Between Us Girls (14 page)

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.

God, I promise if we make it, I'll be nicer to everyone and not complain about Quinn and I'll go home as soon as I can…

Twenty-Two

Liv hadn't planned on having a heart attack that day. True, she wasn't feeling well when she'd gotten out of bed, but what was a little nausea and sweating? They were evidence of fatigue. They were inconveniences caused by a restless night and anxiety over Jasmyn's departure.

And so she had worked, planting sweet alyssum—they did so well in the coastal winters and filled the courtyard with their intoxicating fragrance—and then boom. She could scarcely breathe.

Now, lying in a hospital bed, she felt suspended, a marionette with feet—or in this case, backside—not quite touching the earth. She was awake, but not fully. She was asleep, but not fully. She was drugged, but not to the point of pain-free. She spoke coherently, but because no one responded, she assumed the conversation was an internal monologue.

“Apparently, I am alive. Otherwise Syd would have shown up to greet me. Instead, I got Keagan and paramedics.”

They said it was a mild heart attack. Mild.

“
Mild
. I suppose that means it was a pickup and not a semi that parked itself on my chest.”

The thing had immobilized her right in front of the fountain. Naturally, Keagan was the one to find her there, gazing at the blue sky as though she were sunbathing. She heard his typical, unruffled voice long before she saw his face bent over hers.

“Olivia, what are you doing? Taking a break?” When he knelt, he was already talking into his cell to a 911 operator.

Everyone else at the Casa had left for the day. It was Saturday, their day
to play, run errands, or, like Sam and Piper, to work extra hours. It was Jasmyn's day to go back to Illinois.

Back to Illinois. Less than twenty-four hours after Liv had dared to ask the Creator of the Universe what He was going to do about her undeniable, aching desire for a daughter that had begun to grow all out of proportion the day He plopped Jasmyn Albright on her doorstep…

“You know, Abba, You could have just taken me home. Have it over and done with. I've had a good run, a solid six decades and then some. I would have been fine with leaving. But no. My biological clock starts ticking. Whoever heard of such a thing? I'm pushing seventy and I end up flat on my back, whining and gasping, making a fool of myself. ‘Keagan, oh Keagan. Please,
please
, bring Jasmyn back. I need her. I just need her here.' ”

Not that she thought for one minute that God had zapped her with a heart attack.
Applesauce
. That was her own fault. She ate an appalling diet, forgot on a regular basis to take her prescribed blood pressure and cholesterol medications, and she walked briskly the third Tuesday of every other month.

But the timing. Ah, the timing was curious.

Jasmyn had no reason to stay in Seaside Village, and Liv had had no right to keep telling her she could. Or to think a heart attack gave her an excuse to ask her to.

Sending Keagan after the girl had been wrong. Liv felt like a conniving old biddy. Syd wouldn't recognize her. Or would he? Maybe it was her true self coming out. She hoped Keagan failed.

Liv heard approaching voices now and knew he hadn't. No surprise, really. He never failed at anything.

“Oh!” Jasmyn's whispered breath overflowed with compassion. “She looks so…so…” Her voice trailed away as if she did not want to express how perfectly ghastly Liv must look.

A throat cleared. Keagan. “Well, she did have a heart attack.” His neutral tone slipped a tiny bit.

Liv smiled and opened her eyes. Nothing appeared before them, not even ceiling tiles. She sighed. Like the smile, it was probably real only inside her head. Okay, she could go with that, if only Jasmyn and Keagan were not imaginary.