by Sally John
She and the cute Marine had been wild about each other. If she were the impetuous sort or even a romantic, she would have accepted his proposal. But she was not and she did not. He never contacted her again.
And she never loved anyone as wildly again until Syd.
She sighed and petted Tobi on her lap. They sat in the recliner, both just awake from catnaps. Dusk had fallen and the living room lay in shadows. Outside the bay window the jacaranda tree shone with vertical strands of twinkle lights. An automatic timer lit them and brightened a corner of the courtyard where the source of her foolish thoughts stood with Samantha.
Liv tried not to feel like a beady-eyed private investigator. Snooping simply came with the managerial territory. It was a necessity, right? She managed better if she remained abreast of what was going on.
A small wheeled suitcase was propped beside Samantha. She was probably arriving home after her work week in the desert. Jasmyn, thankfully, had no suitcase in sight.
Not yet anyway.
Liv’s eyes burned and she blinked rapidly so the tears would not fall.
Jasmyn was scheduled to fly back to the Midwest tomorrow. Liv had suggested she stay longer, that the theft experience had interfered with her vacation, that it had subtracted days from her emotional time of R and R, that she owed herself at least another week. Jasmyn only said she needed to get on with her life.
“Lord, she wants to stay. When we ate at Betsy’s Café, she said she could see herself working there. She was dreaming about life here. I know she was. She should give it more time.”
Outside now, Jasmyn and Samantha appeared to be laughing.
Odd. Liv had thought Riley would be the one to tug Jasmyn’s heartstrings. They were closer in age, more alike than different. Jasmyn was small-town sweet and—Liv imagined—a crackerjack of a waitress because she easily put regular people at ease.
Samantha was anything but regular. Mum about her background, overeducated—why the summer postgrad studies?—and consumed with work, she walked around in a Plexiglas bubble.
Hmm.
“Lord, Jasmyn could be a good influence on Samantha. And Samantha could be, well, she might very well be the friend Jasmyn needs. What do You think?”
Liv did not have to sit long with the question. She immediately recognized her dishonesty.
The truth was, ever since Jasmyn’s arrival, a deep loneliness had taken hold of her unlike any she’d known since Syd’s death.
The truth was, she had begun to hope that the something wondrous she assumed was in store for Jasmyn might actually be in store for herself. Was that too foolish? Too selfish?
Yes, but…
“All right. The truth is, Lord, I want a daughter. Jasmyn’s the best candidate. It’s my last season of life and the biological clock seems to be ticking. Better late than never? I don’t know. You’re the one who dropped Jasmyn Albright on my doorstep. So now what?”
There, she’d quit hemming and hawing.
Tears stung again, and this time she let them fall.
Twenty
Sam stood in the dusky courtyard with Jasmyn. With her suitcase beside her and a casserole from her boss’s wife heavy in her arms, she laughed and laughed.
Laughed. For real. Out loud. It felt like when an antibiotic kicked in and her body sensed the absence of illness and an energy zinged every nerve ending with new life.
Jasmyn was describing her trip to Disneyland. Mostly she talked about goofy Chad at Disneyland. Her sweet voice still bugged Sam, but it also pulled her in, the call of honey to a bear.
Which made Sam the bear?
“Chad finally showed up, in the dark, on Main Street after the parade as if that had been our original plan all along. Inez had Keagan on the phone because Chad wasn’t answering his. He told me he’d made a new friend.”
“I bet he got her phone number.”
“Yes, he did. You know, he’s so adorable. None of us could stay mad at him. Tasha was exhausted, and he carried her to the car. But first we stopped at a store because she wanted Minnie Mouse ears and Riley was out of money, so he bought them. Then the whole way home he and the twins chattered on and on about rides they hadn’t taken together.”
“What did Inez say?”
“She shook her finger at him and said, ‘You must grow up someday.’ He hugged her and said, ‘But not today. Peter Pan cannot grow up at Disneyland, a-a—’ What does he call her?”
“Abuela. Grandmother.”
“That’s it. How does he get away with being Peter Pan?”
Sam heard concern in Jasmyn’s tone. Despite the differences of age, body type, and voice pitch, she and Liv could pass for clones. Which was downright spooky.
“Big safety net. He’ll inherit millions and just keep on keeping on.”
“Seriously?” Jasmyn looked appalled.
“Yeah. His family is filthy rich.”
“No, I mean you think he’ll just keep on being completely aimless?”
“Who knows? We can’t fix him.”
“Inez said Liv gave him an ultimatum. If he messes up again, he has to move out. I think Liv’s on to something. He needs boundaries. He needs a job. I need a job.”
“Oh?” A woman after her own heart.
“Definitely. You can’t go to Disneyland every day. Or be on vacation forever. This aimlessness is getting old.”
“What would you like to do?”
“What I’ve always done. It’s not exactly rocket science, but then I’m not a rocket scientist. I love working at the Flying Pig. I’ll go back to it, easy-peasy.”
“Did you ever dream of doing other things?”
“Not really. In Valley Oaks, it’s not like I had a lot of options. That must sound really boring to you.”
“No. It sounds insanely difficult because I’m not a people person like you.”
“For a while I wanted to be a nurse.”
“Ew. Now you’ve gone too far. You really have to be a people person for that one.”
Jasmyn smiled. “I loved taking care of my grandparents and my mother. Of course, I had to waitress the whole time they were sick and that went on for so many years…” She shrugged. “It’s a little late in life to start over.”
“Liv says thirtysomethings are baby chicks. You know, there’s always a news story about some woman getting her college degree when she’s like eighty-zillion years old. It’s never too late to reinvent yourself.”
“Reinvent?”
“Imagine yourself in a different role and then take the first step toward living it.”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
Sam had always thought of it like that. If she hadn’t created a life for herself beyond the role some labeled half-breed—No reason to go there.
Jasmyn said, “You really think I could reinvent myself?”
“Sure. You’re in a sweet space, Jasmyn. Single. No family or house to tie you down. A job you could probably do anywhere.”
“Put that way, it sounds just plain sad.”
“Just plain sad can be a catalyst. Off the top of your head, what’s the wildest thing you can think of? If nothing could hold you back, what would you do?”
Jasmyn frowned.
Spontaneity and the waitress from Illinois probably did not meet on a regular basis.
“Um.” Jasmyn smiled shyly. “Seriously?”
No. Impulsively! “Go for it.”
“I’d like to manage an apartment complex.”
Spoken like a true Liv clone. “Okay.” She couldn’t let it go. “Um, you’re sure? You don’t want to join the Peace Corps? Climb Machu Picchu?”
“No.”
“Write the Great American Novel?”
“No.”
“Be a movie star?”
“Nope.”
“You want to be Olivia McAlister.’ ”
“No. I want to be Jasmyn Albright.” She smiled. “Anyway, I’m going home tomorrow.”
Sam let the words sink
in, and then she said with conviction, “I’m sorry.”
“Me too. But vacation is over.”
“I suppose it has to end.”
Jasmyn wrinkled her nose. “There’s a little corner of me that would rather do the Peter Pan–Chad thing.”
Sam chuckled and shifted the weight of the heavy dish in her arms. “Hey, I have this mystery casserole from my boss’s wife. It’s probably full of chicken and a creamy soup and could feed an army. Do you want to come over and eat?”
Jasmyn’s jaw dropped. “Really?”
Sam understood the surprised response and, if it weren’t so pathetically true, she would have laughed again. The detached businesswoman who disliked everyone was inviting a guest for dinner?
She was. The thought of having an uninterrupted conversation with a like-minded woman felt…nice.
Sam said, “No, not really. I’d rather have pizza.”
Jasmyn laughed with her.
Twenty-One
At airport security, Jasmyn gathered her things from the gray bins on the conveyor belt. Shoes, sweater, handbag, belt, bracelet, bag of liquids, and the beach bag she was using as a catchall.
Sheesh. What a lot of fuss. Practically undress while standing next to a bunch of strangers who were also undressing. Wait. Get scanned. Wait. Carry everything to a bench. Put it back on or back into a bag or a pocket. Search for the boarding pass shoved into her purse. And what had she done with her ID?
At least she hadn’t been detained and wanded or had to stand by while a guard dug through her bag the way she saw happening to others.
At least everyone was nice about it all.
Nice. Something she was not feeling or exhibiting. She should be ashamed of herself.
She slipped on the outrageously priced sandals Piper had talked her into because they were, in all honesty, the most comfy things she’d ever had on her feet. She hugged the purse and beach bag to herself, and stared at the escalator. It moved people upward, but it somehow appeared insurmountable.
She really, truly did not want to go home.
There. She’d admitted it at last. After a night of tossing and turning—her first since that first night at the Casa—she was too exhausted to fight it any longer. She wanted to stay in California.
The questions of why, how long, and when would have to wait for answers. For now she would get on the plane, return to her studio apartment, go to work tomorrow, and then…Well, and then she would plan another vacation.
Danno would tell her to take it ASAP. He had sent her away in the first place to go find her smile. Well, she had found it in California. The trouble was, she’d lost it that morning somewhere between the Casa and the airport. It was not getting on board with her. It would not be going with her to the Flying Pig tomorrow. Leaving a strange place should not be this difficult, should it?
Sam had driven Jasmyn to the airport and basically repeated Inez’s Go get your things. “Maybe it’s time for a new start. What better place for a reinvention than in California?”
Sam had meant well, and Liv had meant well as they hugged goodbye in the alley behind the Casa. Choking back tears, she repeated three times that Cottage Eleven was Jasmyn’s home whenever she returned, which she hoped was two shakes of a lamb’s tail away.
Their words haunted Jasmyn now. What happened to Valley Oaks being home, the place she had always belonged?
She sighed. That one was easy. Stupid tornado. Stupid hurt feelings because she did what she had to do by selling the property. Stupid dead-end job. Stupid, ugly apartment.
Stupid memories that still defined her. She doesn’t have a dad. She’s Jerri’s daughter. You know Jerri, the slutty one. That grandpa of hers is a real piece of work. The grandma’s not much better. Do you believe she sold that land? It’ll put her boss out of business. That was really smart.
Jasmyn got on the escalator.
Upstairs, hordes of people milled around a gift shop and a Peet’s Coffee counter. They strode past her from every direction. They lined up at gates and filled row after row of seats as far as she could see.
She found her gate and an empty seat near it that faced a window. Pouting had always been at the bottom of her list of favorite pastimes, but she freely engaged in it now as she gazed at the runway and distant hills dotted with houses.
Quinn had been happy to hear she was coming home. Happy? More like ecstatic. She promised to pick Jasmyn up at the airport that evening, which meant she had to get off work early on a Saturday night, the busiest shift of the week. It meant a sacrifice of major tips. It meant—
“Jasmyn.”
She blinked and saw Keagan looking down at her. “Keagan?”
Mr. Kung Fu Dude slid onto the seat beside her. “You can’t leave.” His black leather jacket rustled as he smoothed the jeans against his thighs. He turned to her, a deep crease between his blue-green eyes. His usual intimidation factor was missing.
“What do you mean I can’t leave?”
“Liv had a heart attack.”
Jasmyn scurried after Keagan, who never slowed his pace, not even on escalators. They trotted down one now, an outdoor one that descended steeply into a parking lot.
Quinn would totally have a cow over this latest decision. Jasmyn was staying in San Diego because someone she barely knew had a heart attack? Because that all-but-total stranger told the weird kung fu guy, while they had waited for the paramedics, that she needed Jasmyn? Baloney.
No, not baloney. She owed Liv McAlister for all she had done for her. If the woman said she needed Jasmyn, then Jasmyn was there for her. Flight or no flight.
They reached the sidewalk at the bottom of the escalator and she jogged to catch up to him. “What did she mean, she needs me?”
“Beats me.” His sunglasses hid his eyes. Her beach bag was slung over his shoulder.
She stepped off a curb and walked smack-dab into Keagan’s outstretched arm. A car cruised past them, too fast for a parking lot. Without a word, they continued on their way.
The guy was just plain odd. Who was he anyway? He could have made up the whole entire story about Liv and was kidnapping Jasmyn because he was a serial killer. And how had he gotten through security?
“How did you get through security?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I am worrying about it.”
His sunglasses flashed in her direction. “It was an emergency. I talked to the right people. They let me through.”
The right people? Sure. From what she heard about TSA, the only right people would be in Washington, DC. Why would they believe his emergency story? And what about her checked baggage?
“What about my checked baggage?”
“It’s been X-rayed for bombs. It’s on a domestic flight. It’ll reach its destination. Maybe a friend can pick it up for you.”
Her friend would be too busy having a hissy fit.
Of course it wasn’t as if Jasmyn had had many things to pack. She could let it go to wherever unclaimed suitcases went. What was one more lost batch of clothing? She should be getting used to not owning anything by now. There were those neon yellow shoes, though. She really liked them.
Keagan stopped next to a motorcycle. Jasmyn remembered Liv telling her that he did not own a car.
It was a shiny, dark blue monster. He unlocked a storage compartment, pulled out two helmets, and stuck a white one in her hand.
She held it back out to him, her own hissy fit gathering steam. He’d totally invaded her space, all but yanked her off a plane by her ponytail, and now she was supposed to get on a Harley? “I can’t ride this thing.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t ride motorcycles.”
“Your dad’s rule?”
“My grandpa’s.”
He cocked his head, his lips a thin line. “What happened?”
Her throat closed up and her heart pounded. She whispered, “A friend died.”
“An accident?”
She nodded.
>
“Years ago? When you were a teenager?”
Again she nodded. They had been sixteen. He was Quinn’s boyfriend.
“It’s time to get over it.”
She shook her head. “I’ll find a cab.” Her voice squeaked.
“Jasmyn, take a deep breath.”
She took a deep breath.
“Another.” He slid his sunglasses onto his head and watched her with kind eyes as she breathed. “One more. Okay. Now give me your hand.”
His hand was calloused and gentle around hers. “Listen. My driving record is perfect. My bike is top of the line with all the safety features.”
“Right. It has airbags? I don’t think so. I’ve seen you guys out there on the freeway, cutting in and out between cars, riding the lane markers, racing faster than the craziest drivers.”
“Riding the markers is legal and safer than being in the way of traffic—Okay, okay. I hear you. I won’t do any of those things. I promise.”
A fizzy sensation went up her arm. It spread through her chest and down her other arm like a feathery tickle along the inside of her skin. A sense of calm enveloped her.
“Jasmyn, we’ll go to the hospital. It’s only twenty minutes away. Trust me. Your presence will make all the difference for Liv.”
“Why do you say that? We hardly know each other.”
“Call it a woman thing.” He shrugged off his jacket. “Here. Put this on. Your sweater won’t be warm enough. And the helmet too. Please.”
A few minutes later, swimming in his coat, her bag and purse stowed away, she sat astride the bike. A wave of sheer terror flowed through her. She wasn’t going home. She’d lost all her belongings once again. Dear, sweet Olivia might be dying or dead even. And she was going to ride a motorcycle.
Keagan turned the key and the blue monster roared to life. “Hold on!” he yelled.
Jasmyn hesitated. There wasn’t anything to hold on to except Mr. Kung Fu Dude, who reached back with both hands and pulled her arms around his waist.
It felt like a stone wall covered in a cotton T-shirt.
Inhibition fled. She clung for dear life and pressed her helmet-covered forehead between his shoulder blades.
