Between Us Girls

by Sally John

  Nova’s dark eyes were depthless pools reflecting the candlelight behind Jasmyn. She laid a gnarled hand on Jasmyn’s wrist. “Not everything can be explained. Through the years, many people experienced the reality of the Holy One. The ways of the church spoke to them despite their tragic history.”

  Jasmyn frowned.

  “Forgiveness is a powerful tool.” Nova spoke softly. “Life is a paradox, Jasmyn. Have you walked the land where your ancestors walked out their story?”

  Instantly she saw the farm. Her stomach flip-flopped. The farm’s very first crop had been planted by her great-great-great-grandfather.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “And have you sat in a room where they sat?”

  Her heart raced. The farmhouse had been built by her great-great-grandparents. Her attic bedroom had at different times been a sewing room, a great-aunt’s bedroom, and a distant cousin’s temporary home when he came to help with the harvest.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Heartbreak and joy, right? Both together. Never one without the other.”

  Jasmyn shut her eyes.

  Hers had not been a storybook childhood in the least. And yet what had she known if not pure joy in that tiny room with its dolls and its view of stars and cornfields, where no one disturbed her? Or in the rambling woods? And even on the tractor she learned to drive at age nine?

  Nova patted her arm and straightened. “I am an old woman. Someday this place will no longer speak to anyone except the ones who love olden days. And that is all right. These days the church needs air-conditioning and microphones.”

  Jasmyn opened her eyes. “It wasn’t my choice to raze it. A tornado destroyed it.”

  Nova stared at her.

  “My home. Mine and my family’s, all the way back to my great-great-grandparents.”

  “Jasmyn, I am sorry.”

  “But then I sold the land.”

  Nova nodded. “Because it no longer spoke to you.”

  Jasmyn shrugged.

  “Do you have siblings? Or children?”

  “No.”

  “And it was a tornado?”

  “Yes.”

  Nova did not respond for a long moment. “Then you can trust it was time to let it go.” She pulled a handkerchief from a skirt pocket and dabbed Jasmyn’s cheeks. “I haven’t used it.” She smiled.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

  “You cry because you have a sad story. Don’t worry. Joy will weave its way through it in time. Would you like to pray?”

  Jasmyn stifled a sob. Hot tears fell. Her body shook.

  Nova knelt on the stone floor. “No air-conditioning, no microphones, no padded kneelers. How in the world do we keep going?” She giggled to herself, made the sign of the cross, and, with arms propped on the pew in front of her, buried her face in her hands.

  The quiet enveloped Jasmyn as it had outdoors, at the entrance to the desert, a hush so loud it nearly hurt her ears.

  Her tears subsided. Her breathing returned to normal.

  She was still working on her Liv-style prayer, walking and talking to God in the courtyard, eyes open. Kneeling on a stone floor with her face buried in her hands seemed an odd way to pray. Maybe a little over-the-top.

  The hush pressed in on her again. It pressed away the sad stories, Nova’s and her own. It pressed her to her knees.

  And she knelt there in a wordless, nameless embrace.

  The scenery whizzed past them as they flew along the freeway. Sam jabbered, excited about her meeting. Jasmyn nodded and smiled.

  “Good grief! We’ve switched roles. I’m talking and you’re not,” Sam said. “Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

  “Um. Well. I’m not sure exactly.” And then, just like heat lightning that flashed across the sky back home, it came to her.

  She had been meeting the Holy One.

  And oh, how He loved her!

  Thirty-Six

  On the drive home from the desert, when Jasmyn had echoed Randy’s suggestion that a special dinner was in order, Sam surprised herself and agreed. After all, it was happy news and friends celebrated happy news, right? They let someone else cook and even serve them at a table in a restaurant near the coast.

  Now they sat at a table in a restaurant near the coast. It wasn’t exactly what Sam had imagined.

  Not because the table was long and covered with a linen cloth. Not because it was on a veranda, under a trellis, warmed by propane heaters, and lit by fake candles and patio lights. Not because a mariachi band strolled by, singing and playing festive music. Not even because others had joined them. Of course Jasmyn had invited others, phoning them from the car on their way to the city. And of course some came…Liv, Inez and Louis, Riley and Tasha, and Chad.

  Nope. It wasn’t any of those things that tied her brain into a pretzel.

  It was because of the guy in a tie.

  What was going on? First Jasmyn channeled Randy. Then Beau Jenner showed up, wearing a tie and looking nothing like the guy in a Fix-It Jenner work shirt, cap, and blue jeans.

  “Miss Sam.” He handed her a single red rose wrapped in white tissue paper. “Congratulations for the spectacular accomplishment you made today. I do apologize for my tardiness.” He pulled out the chair across from her. There were two vacant chairs at the other end.

  “It wasn’t spectacular.” She laid the rose next to her plate. “I sketched some buildings. The right people liked them. Not a big deal.”

  “You’re an artist too?”

  Her eyelids fluttered. She had no control over them.

  From the other end of the table, Chad called out to Beau. “Hey, dude!” He touched the neck of his T-shirt where a tie would have gone. “Nice.”

  Beau gave him a thumbs-up and opened his menu. “What do y’all like here?”

  Sam used to like the taco salad with chicken. She tuned out the chatter. What had she been thinking to agree to this? She wasn’t good at chitchat, at celebrating, at camaraderie. She wasn’t all that good at being civil.

  She most certainly was not good at keeping her cool while sitting across the table from an overly well-mannered, rose-giving, eye-twinkling guy wearing brown slacks, a robin’s egg-blue shirt, a tie in spring green with blue dots, and some very pleasant cologne.

  Thirty-Seven

  Swell. Jasmyn tore her gaze from Sam at the other end of the table and picked up a fish taco from her plate.

  That makes two for two. Apparently, she was not all that good at planning parties to honor someone. Liv’s potluck last week had prompted only polite smiles from the woman. And right now, Sam was obviously not enjoying her celebration at all.

  Earlier, Jasmyn had spotted a genuine smile or two. But then, in two whisks of a squirrel’s tail, her friend had shrunk back into her turtle shell. What happened?

  Sam had agreed to the dinner out. She’d agreed to the casual restaurant. She had even agreed—after a slight hesitation—to inviting Casa folks. She’d agreed to sharing the fact that she’d received extraordinarily good feedback on her work, but the details were not to be discussed. Jasmyn’s lips were sealed. Sam did not want to invite her boss and his wife. Fine with Jasmyn.

  So what was with the furrowed brow aimed now at Beau?

  Jasmyn wished Keagan were there. The angel could decipher the problem, or at least remind her it was not her fault.

  Okay, it was not her fault. Nor was it her responsibility to fix it. Maybe Mr. Fix-It Jenner could do that. He looked as if he could fix just about anything in that dress shirt and tie. Pipes, wires, lonely hearts.

  Liv touched her arm. “Jasmyn, dear, what a delightful celebration!”

  She swallowed her bite. “Really?”

  “Yes. It’s wonderful to make people feel special like this.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Especially us single people. Who else is going to do it?”

  Hmm. Unsure how to respond, Jasmyn watched Liv scoop a forkful of salad, the dinner Jasmyn had convinced her t
o order rather than the one she wanted: a deep-fried chimichanga with cheese, sour cream, and guacamole.

  Since that morning at the reservation, a phrase from the old woman Nova had been on repeat play. Now it replayed once again. To gain wisdom, you must ask the difficult questions. Okay. She needed to ask Liv why the potluck had been a bad idea. But that seemed too in-your-face. Maybe she could ask it and skirt it at the same time.

  “Liv,” she whispered, “Sam doesn’t appear to be feeling special.”

  “I noticed. Some people don’t like attention.”

  “I shouldn’t have invited others.”

  “Maybe not. But it may be that she’s resisting the warm-fuzzies rush. It can be hard to handle. Stubborn old ladies who resent heart attacks behave in a similar manner.” She winked, a slow, obvious lowering of one eyelid over the blue eye behind the large silver-rimmed glasses. “I truly appreciated the potluck, dear.” She turned to Chad across the table from them. “May I have one tiny little bite of your chimichanga?”

  Jasmyn chided. “Liv.”

  “Just a little.” She sliced an end off of Chad’s stuffed tortilla and put it on her plate. “Just one teensy, itsy-bitsy bite.”

  Chad took back his plate. “It’s half gone.” Holding out the plate, he spoke to the others. “Anybody else want what’s left of my dinner?”

  Louis accepted his offer.

  The bantering began and Jasmyn turned to Liv. “You sound like your old self again.”

  “Oh, dear. Is that a good thing?”

  “You know it is.”

  “I hope so. But I don’t want to completely be my old self again. I may have learned a thing or two through the ordeal.”

  “Are you up for managing again?”

  “I believe so.” She sighed and folded her hands on her lap. “I wish you didn’t have to leave in two weeks.”

  Ten days, Jasmyn silently corrected. Who wanted to count out loud?

  After dinner, Jasmyn and Sam strolled along a crowded sidewalk toward the Jeep parked several blocks away, past boutique and souvenir shops still open in the late evening to cater to ever-present tourists.

  If Sam were Quinn, Jasmyn imagined they would pop in and out of stores, giggle over the silly things, drool over the chic clothing, and buy chocolate and refrigerator magnets. It was the sort of thing they did in the mall at Rockville, Illinois, population fifty-two thousand.

  Not so with cool Sam. From the looks of her tailored clothes, she probably shopped in that one store at the mall geared toward businesswomen. She wouldn’t give these places a second glance.

  “Jasmyn.” Sam cleared her throat. “I, um, thank you for dinner. You didn’t have to buy mine.”

  “Yeah, I did. Consider it thanks for the desert trip and congratulations on your work.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m sorry if I pushed you into having all those people there.”

  “Don’t apologize for doing something nice.”

  “But you didn’t have a good time.”

  “I had a fine time.”

  “Come on.” Jasmyn pointed at the plastic container in Sam’s hand. “You didn’t eat a fourth of your dinner.”

  “Why would you notice what I ate?”

  “Didn’t eat.”

  “Whatever. You’re acting like Liv more and more.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jasmyn nudged her. “Really, tell me what was wrong about tonight. I don’t want it to happen again.”

  “Nothing was wrong. I have social issues, that’s all.”

  “Yeah. You should get over that.”

  Sam snickered.

  Progress. Jasmyn smiled. The whole day and evening had been progress until Sam went quiet at the table. It was as if she crawled back behind that wall she kept up, that fortress. Things were fine until after the food had been served—“Oh my gosh!” Jasmyn said. “You have a problem with Beau.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Jasmyn burst out laughing. Sam’s answer had been way too quick. “You got all quiet after he came.”

  “I did not.”

  “Did too.”

  “Jasmyn! Good grief!”

  She whispered, “Did too.”

  “If I got quiet after he came, it was because he monopolizes every conversation. I didn’t know you invited him.”

  “Chad did.”

  Sam exhaled what sounded like a big lump of frustration.

  “Hey,” Jasmyn said. “Beau brought you a rose. Where’s the rose?”

  “I guess I left it at the table.”

  “Aw, Sam.”

  “It was over-the-top. He’s over-the-top. Miss this and Miss that. Please and thank you and my Granny Mibs and all that homespun Kentucky jibber jabber.”

  “Jibber jabber?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jasmyn giggled. “He knows how to push your buttons.”

  “He’s obnoxious.”

  “He looked good in a tie.”

  “Nobody wears a tie for casual dining in San Diego.”

  “He’s flirting.”

  Sam whipped around to face her, so abruptly Jasmyn thought she’d lose her balance. “He is not.”

  “He might be.”

  Sam faced forward again and they crossed a street, the parking lot within sight.

  Jasmyn wondered what Sam had against flirting. Hadn’t she ever dated anyone? Or fallen in love? Or had a crush on someone?

  Jasmyn sighed. She refused to end the evening on such a note. She grasped Sam’s elbow and steered them both back toward the shops. “Let’s get some chocolate. I saw chocolate truffles in a window back there.”

  “I don’t eat chocolate truffles.”

  “Mm-hmm. Maybe we’ll get some refrigerator magnets too.”

  Thirty-Eight

  Standing beside the trickling fountain, in shadows cast by the patio lights, Liv clasped her hands together and raved about the dinner to Keagan. “It was lovely.”

  “That explains why you feel well enough to make your nightly rounds.” He turned toward his cottage. “Don’t overdo it.”

  Liv watched him walk away and called out, “Jasmyn fits in perfectly, don’t you think?”

  He didn’t even look back. A moment later he opened his door and disappeared inside.

  Liv smiled. He knew what she was talking about.

  Jasmyn added a lovely spark to the Casa. Liv noticed that Keagan noticed because although he had skipped the restaurant gathering earlier that evening, he had attended the potluck last week, a rare occurrence.

  Samantha was touched too. To think that Jasmyn had spent the entire day with her, that Samantha had told her about some work accomplishment, that Jasmyn had thrown together a festive dinner and Samantha came, that they weren’t home yet because they must be out enjoying life— Well, that all said a lot.

  If Liv polled the Casa family, she was certain they would all agree that Jasmyn was a perfect fit.

  Of course she was. “Because You brought her to us, didn’t You, Abba? And my old lady biological clock seems to have stopped its incessant ticking. Unless that was just my heart acting up.”

  Smiling, she slid a cushioned chair out from a patio table and sat to enjoy the night’s beauty. The damp coastal air enhanced every fragrance the courtyard offered, a heady mix of floral, pine, eucalyptus, cedar mulch, and plain old dirt. The patio lights cast a soft glow over it all. Solar lamps in the ground lit pathways to the cottages.

  She heard Jasmyn and Samantha before she saw them. Jasmyn’s infectious giggle was at full volume—which was never very loud—and then, wonder of wonders, Samantha’s low chuckle escalated into a burst of laughter.

  They emerged from the back gate area, spotted her, and walked over.

  “Liv!” Jasmyn sat on a chair beside her. “You’re up awfully late.”

  “For an invalid. I’m not an invalid anymore.”

  Samantha stood before them and thrust a fist in the air. “Yesss! Mama Liv is back.�
�

  Liv stared at her.

  Jasmyn laughed. “Way to be excited, Sam.”

  “It’s the sugar. Liv, she made me eat truffles.” Samantha slapped a hand to her mouth and her eyes grew wide.

  Jasmyn said, “Oops.”

  Samantha lowered her hand. “We would have bought some for you, but, you know, it’s not on your diet. We did get a magnet for you, though.”

  Jasmyn dug into a shopping bag, pulled out a small sack, and handed it to her. “For your fridge. It says ‘I heart Seaside Village.’ The heart’s supposed to remind you to take care of yours.”

  Liv took out a square magnet and chuckled. “Aren’t you ladies thoughtful?”

  “No,” Samantha said. “We just felt guilty about the truffles. Speaking of which, the sugar crash is coming.” She yawned. “Good night all.” She turned and walked toward her cottage.

  Jasmyn called out, “See you tomorrow, BFF.”

  Samantha waved over her shoulder.

  Jasmyn whispered to Liv, “Do you think that was too much, the BFF part?”

  “Best Friend Forever?” Liv smiled. “Yesterday, I would have said yes, but she’s different tonight. The way she teased just now was simply amazing. I haven’t heard her say a silly word in four years.”

  “We had such a great time today. She really loosened up.”

  “She’s always so tense. I worry she’s going to pop.”

  “Exactly. I think she has a lot of hurt inside. Are we gossiping?”

  “Not quite. We’re both concerned for her well-being.” She squeezed Jasmyn’s arm. “I must say that organizing the dinner for her was a stroke of genius.”

  “I’m so glad you think so. Is it what you would’ve done?”

  “No. She’s always been a puzzle to me. I love on her the best I can, make her soup or whatnot, and encourage her with words, but I never have had a clue how to honor her and include our family in on it. Only a BFF could’ve done what you did.”

  “It just came to me out of the blue, this wild idea to treat her to dinner. She was a little reluctant about inviting others, but I told her you and Chad especially would want to celebrate her accomplishment. Whatever it is.” She grinned and leaned closer. “I think Beau has a crush on her.”