Between Us Girls (28 page)

“Hey.” Keagan came into view.

Of course Keagan came into view at that particular moment, the weight of leaving as heavy as the television and probably as obvious.

He reached for the TV. “Let me help.”

“It's not heavy.” As he scooped the television from her arms, she grabbed the box of candy.

“This belongs to Sam, right?” He veered toward her cottage. “I suppose this means you decided to go back.”

“People don't uproot themselves to turn a vacation spot into their permanent place of residence.”

“Right.”

Jasmyn stubbed her toe. Was that a hint of sarcasm in his tone? The voice usually parked in neutral? She glanced down at her neon yellow shoe. The flagstone had left its mark. She wanted to cry.

“Do you have more to deliver?”

“Nothing big.” She didn't want his help.

He turned toward her. A brief flash of sunlight bounced off the lenses of his dark glasses. The corners of his mouth curved. He didn't believe her.

“Really. Sam's fold-up rocker and TV trays. Linens and kitchen things to Riley, Liv, and Inez. Shampoo and soap and stuff to Piper. She gave me way more than I could use. Little things. Chad said he'd get the big ones after I leave, like Inez's bed and his table.”

“Okay. So how are you doing?”

“Awful.” She winced. The vocal fire hydrant was fully engaged. “I'm okay. There's just too much to do. I should have packed earlier this week, but I didn't want to miss out on anything. I took Tasha to get a DVD and Coco to get groceries. Inez and Louis took me to lunch. Piper helped me pick out a gift for Quinn. And…” The flow stopped. “And a lot of other stuff.”

He chuckled.

Chuckled?

“You didn't want to miss out on spending time with people. I'm sure it was mutual. We are going to miss you, Ms. All Bright.”

“Ditto,” she muttered and stepped around him to knock on Sam's door, the goldenrod yellow one.

“By the way, I'll be happy to drive you to the airport on Monday. In Liv's minivan.”

“Thanks, but I'll take a shuttle.”

Sam opened the door. “Jasmyn! I said you can keep the TV until you leave.” She moved aside for them to enter. “Set it on the counter there. Thanks, Keagan.”

“I offered to take her to the airport, but she wants to take a shuttle.”

Sam frowned at him. They shook their heads in unison and turned to her. Sam said, “No, you don't want to do that. They'll cart you around the county for half the day and then you'll sit in the airport for the other half.”

“I don't mind—”

“Keagan will do it. I can't get away from the office, and Liv's not up for driving the freeway yet.”

Jasmyn wondered if they had rehearsed the conversation already. “Whatever.”

“Keagan, did you get the word yet? Goodbye pizza party, tomorrow night, on my new, old patio table.”

“I did, thanks. I'll go get the rocker and trays.” He went back outside.

Jasmyn puffed out a breath.

Sam picked up her television and carried it to the far end of the counter, nearer the kitchen table. “I bet he'll come to the party. I mean, the guy let you ride his motorcycle.” She plugged in the power cord. “Did I tell you about the time he let me use his T-shirt for a hankie?”

“What?”

Sam chuckled. “The day Liv had her heart attack. I lost it at the hospital, and he was standing right there when it happened. I've changed my mind about him. He's an okay guy.” Her smile wavered. “Actually, I've changed my mind about a lot of people and things thanks to you.”

Jasmyn blinked to keep the tears from spilling. She changed the subject. “Is that where you usually keep your TV?”

“Yeah.” Sam sniffed. “Sometimes I watch the news while I eat.”

“I'm sorry I kept it for so long.”

“I'm not.” She tore off a few paper towels and handed some to Jasmyn. “Here. Unless you want to wait and use Keagan's shirt.”

They laughed and cried and buried their faces in paper towels.

It was going to be a long two days.

Forty-Six

Early Sunday morning, Liv's courtyard circuit stalled in front of Cottage Three. The aquamarine on its front door all but reached out and smacked her. Samantha had been right. The color had to go. Today.

She whispered, “Lord, have mercy.”

It was the easiest prayer in the universe, easier than saying thanks or admitting need or letting someone off the hook. Since the awful incident months and months ago, those words had been the only prayer she could come up with when passing it. Wasn't it time for something different?

Of course she'd already prayed over the work to be done, for creativity and safety for those involved. She had prayed for the boy who had briefly lived in it. She had prayed for the perpetrators. May they all know God's mercy.

But could it be time for the other prayers, the ones that opened her heart to usher someone new into the fold?

She waited, quiet for a moment.

Nothing came to her.

She shook her head. Nope. It was too soon. Or she was too old.

Or Jasmyn's exit was too much to bear.

Oh, dear.
She was not herself. Not herself at all.

“Wretched heart attack.”

She pulled keys from her pocket, unlocked the door, and entered.

The interior's appearance had changed drastically, thanks to Beau. He had scrubbed down the walls and removed all the kitchen cabinet doors.
There were white spots on the hardwood floors, as if he'd bleached them. He'd probably needed to use extreme measures.

Her heart, with its wretched damage, sank. The work was going to be far more involved than she had imagined. She felt overwhelmed.

“Liv.” Jasmyn stepped inside, her eyes wide in alarm. “Are you all right? You're rubbing your chest.”

Liv glanced down at her hand and lowered it. “I don't know why I do that. I'm fine. Just fine. Well, except for…” She gestured and sighed. “All this.”

Jasmyn grasped Liv's hands between hers and held them tightly. “Liv, if this stresses you out, maybe you shouldn't come in here. Let Beau work. You know he's good. It's wonderful you're feeling up to taking charge again, but you don't have to do it all.”

She took a shaky breath. “Growing old is for the birds.”

Jasmyn dropped her hands and gave her a quick hug. “Think of it as a vacation.”

“A permanent one?”

“You need some cheese and crackers to go with that whine.”

“Well, aren't we the feisty one this morning?”

“Somebody has to do it.”

“Especially when someone else is having a moment?”

“Exactly.” She nudged Liv toward the door and they went outside. “I was wondering if I could go to church with you this morning.”

Liv turned to shut and lock the door, hiding what must be a dumbfounded expression. “I hadn't planned on going.”

“I know. What's up with that, anyway?”

Liv opened her mouth to speak but didn't have a real reply, except for the standby that was probably becoming overused. She turned and said it anyway. “Heart attack?”

Jasmyn's eyebrows rose, but she didn't voice what she was probably thinking, that Liv's excuse for everything was indeed overused.

“Okay,” Jasmyn said. “I thought maybe you'd stopped talking to God.”

“Really? Goodness gracious, no. You do realize I think the Holy Presence is everywhere, not just in church.”

“I do, but you like your church, right? Don't you feel well enough by now?”

“But I can't drive yet.” Actually, the doctor had said she could, but the thought of possibly losing control behind the wheel frightened her to no end.

“Your friends offered to pick you up, Liv. Remember, I was there when you turned them down. Maybe it's the control issue again. Or having a hard time asking for help.”

Jasmyn certainly was on a roll.

“The thing is, when I sat in that church on the reservation with Nova, I remembered that I liked going to Sunday school. I usually felt, I don't know, quiet. Deep inside.”

Liv had heard the story about the small-town church in Valley Oaks and how Jasmyn's grandmother had gotten her feelings hurt and quit going.

“This is my last day, you know.”

Liv shook her head. Several days ago she had announced it was best if she played ostrich and buried her head in the sand. “We are not to talk of that.”

“That was your idea. I decided I'd rather not pretend. I'd rather embrace the moment. So, what do you say? Are you up for it?”

“Oh, Jasmyn, dear. I just don't want you to be disappointed. We're all so old at Seaside Village Grace. You might like Noah's church better. It's full of young people and they sing contemporary music. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to…”

Jasmyn's face fell, literally. Liv had no idea such sadness could be expressed in the slight shift of skin.

Fiddlesticks!
What on earth was she thinking? This surrogate daughter whom Liv had begged for stood right there before her, graciously putting the kibosh on a silly woman's whining, asking to take that woman to church and not wanting to miss their final hours together.

This is sheer love, Liv. Why can't you accept it?

At the blast of clarity, she nearly plopped down into the aquamarine chair in front of the aquamarine door.

Instead, she straightened her shoulders and cleared her throat. “I have missed church. By the way, I always swing by the donut shop and pick up a couple dozen glazed—”

“Olivia McAlister.” Jasmyn smiled. “That is not going to happen. I'm sure everyone will be happy to see you even without donuts.”

Forty-Seven

Everyone at Seaside Village Grace Church was indeed happy to see Liv. Jasmyn doubted they missed her donuts one iota. The table—set up for coffee hour on a covered patio between the church and the parking lot—nearly sagged under Danish rolls and whatnot.

Jasmyn stood off to the side, munching the gooiest pumpkin bar she'd ever had. She watched people shower Liv with attention and gave up on separating her friend from the sugar-and-fat-laden goodie someone had handed her and was now making its way toward Liv's mouth.

Jasmyn's hovering stage had to end at some point. Unlike Jasmyn's mother and grandparents, Liv was getting better. Reminding her she had been ill would only reinforce the struggle she'd had earlier that morning about being old.

Whatever old was, it hadn't shown up yet among the mainly white- and silver-haired folks surrounding Liv. Their laughter and energy obviously affected Liv in a good way. The extra crease in her forehead had disappeared.

Jasmyn's phone beeped softly, a text alert.
Oops.
She'd forgotten to turn it off. No one stood nearby, so she reached inside her shoulder bag, expecting to see a note from Quinn. She palmed the phone and angled it so the screen faced up.

Keagan? The text was from Keagan?

His name and number were in her phone because she had entered all the Casa folks' information, a necessity while filling in for Liv. Evidently her number was in his phone as well, maybe from when she had texted him—and everyone—about the potluck.

She rubbed her throat, pulled out the phone, and read the message.
How was church?

How was church? How did he even know they'd gone to church?

The guy certainly had a knack for knowing, and he seemed to have an angel's way about him when it came to Liv's well-being. Being concerned about her going to church was a little over-the-top. Jasmyn needn't worry that no one would hover after she left. Keagan fit the bill.

She popped the last sweet bite into her mouth, wiped her fingers on a napkin, and typed a reply.
No worries. Liv is happy here.

Before she could tuck the phone away, another text appeared.

Meant for you.

For her? How was church for her? Is that what he meant?

Now why would he ask that? Why would the thought even cross his mind to text her when they were neighbors and likely to see each other later that day?

She tapped out
Just fine
, sent it, turned off the phone, and shoved it deep into her bag.

Technology was just plain intrusive. To be able to instantaneously read Keagan's thoughts felt too…well, it made her feel as if they were close friends. Really close friends. Like Quinn.

But not exactly. More like friends who had crushes on each other.

“Are you okay, dear?” Liv came into focus, her face beaming like the sun.