Jasmine dug her toes into the warm sand as she picked through the pile of seashells she and Zoey had collected that morning.
“Is dere a tiny one?” Zoey pinched her fingers together squinting.
Jasmine laughed, sunlight warming her from the inside out as her chest expanded. “I love you so much, Z.”
“I love you too much, Mommy.”
Jasmine’s laughter grew and Zoey joined in with her. “Don’t ever change, baby girl.”
Zoey picked up a small white shell from the pile and put it atop her sandcastle. “We needs a mermaid now.”
As Zoey went to work digging into the bin of beach toys, Jasmine took the time to admire the bounce in her black pigtails. And the way those eyes glittered with a thirst for life and determination to experience every moment to its fullest. Was I ever as carefree as this?
Moments like this made all her hard work worth it. To see her daughter laugh and play, happy and safe—there was no greater honor. I did this for her. But how long could this go on? Soon they wouldn’t have a car to get her to school. She could ask her brothers for help with a loan. But it’s not their job to take care of me and Zoey. It’s mine. Not to mention the issue with her teacher. Was her baby safe at school? Perhaps most other mothers would have let it slide, ignored the seemingly insignificant actions. But Jasmine wasn’t other moms. I might be a fuckup in a hundred ways, but my daughter will be safe and know what’s right and what’s wrong.
And now Zoey might be able to have her father in her life. Jasmine had wanted to make sure he was a good person—and it seemed he was. She’d tell him . . . but not with her family around. Tomorrow. She’d tell him tomorrow.
“Anybody home?” Remy’s voice called out.
Zoey jumped up and down excitedly. “Yes!”
Jasmine stood and dusted the sand off her shorts. Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself to greet her family and the questions she’d have to fend off all afternoon.
“Hey, guys.” She waved as Zoey’s cousins came barreling around the corner.
“Little sister.” Mikel stepped down the porch steps and pulled her into a hug. “How are you doing?”
“Just peachy,” she snarked.
“I think you try to make up for all the teen years I missed with your sass now.” He chuckled.
She winced. It was a bittersweet reminder of the time he’d left—abandoned her like her parents had. He’d needed to heal, and she’d forgiven him. But the reminder still hurt.
Bently walked through the back door with Belle trailing him. Andre and Mia followed with their son, Matteo.
“I see the gang’s all here,” Jasmine said, giving everyone hugs.
Bently looked her up and down, worry creasing his brow. “You look thinner.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “I guess it’s a good thing we’re having a cookout, then.”
“Leave her be,” Belle said, putting her hand on her husband’s shoulder.
“I already stuck the enchiladas in the oven to keep them warm,” Mia said, handing over the chubby, drooling baby to Andre.
“Perfect. Who’s manning the grill?” Jasmine asked.
“I’ll do it.” Bently waved his hand and pulled the cover off.
“I guess that means we got kid duty,” Mikel said, nodding to Andre.
Everyone dispersed to do their respective jobs. The women filed into the kitchen before setting up the various salads and fruit. Mia poured wine for them all. Jasmine gladly took her plastic cupful. She didn’t usually indulge, except for the occasional five-dollar bottle of the cheap stuff. So this was a treat. After the week she’d had, she deserved it.
“So . . . where is he?” Remy whispered.
Jasmine tensed. “I don’t know. His car is gone. He’s a guest on vacation—it’s not my job to keep tabs on him. Pretty sure that would be called stalking.”
Remy crossed her arms over her chest. “Have you decided when you’re going to tell him?”
Jasmine sighed. “No. And I would appreciate it if you stopped asking and minded your own business.”
“She’s just worried for you. We all are,” Mia said.
Because you think I can’t handle my own problems. “This is why I didn’t tell you. Emma gives me space; you hover. It’s like all your shyness disappeared when you and my brother got together, and it’s morphed into nosiness.”
Remy shook her head. “You see it as being nosy. I see it as caring about my best friend. My sister.”
Jasmine considered Remy’s eyes before glancing at the faces around her. All different shades of brown. All full of pity. She stepped back and opened the refrigerator before pulling out two beers and a soda. “Gonna go give the guys a drink.”
Remy sighed. “Jaz—”
She pushed open the back door and headed towards the grill.
“Here.” She handed Bently the beer.
“Why thank you.” He smiled. “I could run a background check on him if you want?”
Jasmine shook her head. “Isn’t that illegal?”
His gaze hardened. “I’ll do whatever I have to so I can keep you and Zoey safe. It might help to know if he has any skeletons in his closet.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, Bently. And I appreciate you being so worried about this, but I can handle this situation by myself.” She moved on before he could ask her another question or comment on her predicament. She walked towards Mikel and Andre. “Here ya go, guys.”
“Beer delivery.” Andre smiled before returning his gaze towards his son sitting at his feet, holding fistfuls of sand.
“Thanks for the soda.” Mikel accepted the cold can before popping the top.
The kids were all working together to dig a hole in the sand with their little shovels.
“What are they up to?” Jasmine asked.
“Dre told them if they dug a hole big enough, he’d let them bury him up to his ears.” Mikel chuckled.
“Ahhhhhh!” Phoenix cried.
“Zoey hit him!” Lyra yelled.
Jasmine’s eyes snapped to her daughter. Zoey’s face reddened as her bottom lip jutted out. Her arms crossed protectively in front of her.
Mikel had already picked up the crying toddler and was soothing him. Andre had scooped little Matteo into his arms who’d started to cry, no doubt due to the other kids’ screams. Jasmine approached her daughter. Zoey’s eyes looked up defiantly towards her.
“What happened?” Jasmine crouched on her knees.
“He put sand on me, Mommy!” Her chin trembled.
“Did it hurt you?”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry you got hurt. But do you think hitting him was okay?”
Zoey looked down and shook her head.
“Hitting hurts. What do you think we can do to make this better?”
“I don’t want to say sorry!”
Jasmine took a deep breath. “Well, what would make you feel better if someone hit you?”
After a minute, Zoey mumbled, “A hug.”
“Let’s ask Phoenix if he wants a hug.”
She got to her feet, guiding her reluctant daughter by the hand.
Phoenix’s tears had been dried and he slid from his father’s arms.
“Phe, Zoey has something to ask you,” Jasmine prompted, giving her daughter a nudge.
“Do you want a hug?” Zoey asked.
Phoenix opened his arms and clung to his older cousin. Zoey hugged him back and whispered, “I sorry for hitting you.”
“Buddy, what do you have to say about throwing sand?” Mikel asked.
Phoenix said, “I sorry.” The kids walked back to their work in the sand holding hands.
Jasmine exhaled a long breath before turning around to return to the inn and froze.
Atlas was on the porch, beer in hand, talking to Bently.
No. No. No.
Her brother nodded towards Jasmine before Atlas walked down the path approaching her.
“So, I finally get to meet the guy,” Andre said under his breath. She didn’t need to turn towards him and Mikel to know where their attention had been diverted. It was like the moments before a train wreck, seeing her two worlds collide.
Atlas stopped a couple of feet from her, nodding to the guys. “Your uh—brother told me to let you guys know the food was ready.”
Jasmine swallowed. The food is ready. Sweat broke out on her forehead. She turned to the kids. “Come on, guys. Time to go wash up and then eat.”
Zoey dropped her shovel and ran ahead, always wanting to beat Lyra. Jasmine turned back to Atlas. “Thanks.”
He nodded.
Mikel clapped a hand over Atlas’s back. “Come on in. Guests get first pick.”
“I don’t want to intrude,” Atlas argued.
“You’re not. But you might offend the ladies if you don’t join and get a plate.” Andre nodded towards the house, adjusting his son on his hip.
What were they doing? The last thing she needed was her family talking with Atlas. What if they said something before she had the chance to explain? Panic squeezed her chest as she shot Mikel a look that would kill any other mere mortal. He gave her a wink as he headed inside, Andre following right behind him.
“Is this okay with you?” Atlas asked, studying her.
No. “Of course,” she squeaked, walking towards the inn. Her heart was pounding, and she had the feeling that it would only get worse from here on in. Her world was about to implode.
Her sisters-in-law got Atlas a plate and her family welcomed him into their fold. Bently’s critical glare was the only abnormal thing about this get-together. That and the fact that her unknowing baby daddy fit right in. He laughed and kept up with the conversation, even answering the never-ending questions about living in the city from Lyra and Zoey. He fits in better than I do. His smiles seemed genuine. His laughter was pure. And every time his eyes landed on her, her heart skipped a beat. She was in trouble.
“So, you helped renovate the inn?” Atlas asked Mikel and Andre.
“Yup,” Andre answered.
“Someone had to make sure it got done right and Jasmine was taken care of,” Mikel said, his smile dropping just a little.
“You should talk,” she snapped.
Mikel’s shoulders sunk. Atlas flicked his gaze to her questioningly.
“Dessert, anyone?” Belle asked.
“I brought the Mexican wedding cookies.” Mia set out the tray filled with white-powdered sweets.
“My favorite.” Andre reached for one.
“And to think you turned them down once upon a time,” Remy teased.
“How do you get them to taste so good?” Bently asked over a mouthful of cookie.
“Not from a cookbook.” Mia laughed. “My great-abuela’s recipe passed on down to my mother and now me.”
A pang of envy sliced through Jasmine’s chest. Mia knew everything there was about her heritage. Jasmine spun around, considering her brothers’ and Andre’s faces. Though her family looked like the United Nations to everyone else, she felt out of place. No one looked like her. No one but Zoey. Jasmine fit with her family, but she didn’t at the same time. She had nothing from her culture but her Asian features—no idea how to speak the language. Only her own poor attempts at following Korean recipes from the internet. Just another missing piece of me.
Maybe if she could find a way to connect to her roots, she’d feel more . . . whole.
Jasmine busied herself with passing out cupcakes and ice cream to those who wanted it. She drained the last of the wine in her cup as Zoey came up to her. “I want another cupcake, Mommy.”
Jasmine shook her head. “Sorry, sweet pea, just one for now.”
“Ahhhh!” Zoey let loose an ear-piercing scream, drawing everyone’s eyes.
“Zoey Jane Evans,” Jasmine said, warning in her tone.
“I want a cupcake! Now!” Zoey yelled, throwing herself to the ground.
The back of Jasmine’s eyes burned as she fought off tears. She was at her emotional limit for the day. She knelt and scooped her daughter up.
“Does she need a nap?” Remy asked, somewhere behind her.
Her skin burned with the realization that not only was her family watching Jasmine fail at this, but Atlas was too. He’s going to think I’m a bad mom.
“Let’s go lie down,” Jasmine said, turning to head inside.
“No!” Zoey lashed out, her tiny but surprisingly strong fist hitting Jasmine square in the jaw.
“Zoey! Stop!” Jasmine yelled, chest heaving.
The little girl erupted into tears as giant sobs wracked her body. Jasmine’s tears fell too as she rushed in the door that Mia held open for her. She ran through the inn and up the stairs to the small bedroom she shared with Zoey.
Jasmine collapsed on the bed, cradling Zoey in her arms as mother and daughter cried together. How could such a good day have gone to hell in just a couple of hours?
After a few minutes, Zoey’s cries subsided. Jasmine looked down and wiped the sticky hair from her forehead. Zoey’s eyes closed as she drifted into sleep. Her long black eyelashes kissed her pink-tinged cheeks.
Jasmine leaned in and pressed her lips to her sleeping daughter’s nose and forehead. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry for yelling. For not being patient. For not being enough.” Tears slid over her cheeks, dripping onto her daughter’s summer dress.
Jasmine held on a little longer before transferring Zoey to her bed, making sure the fan was rotating through the room. After walking into the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face and took her hair out. Jasmine braided it quickly over her shoulder and stared at her reflection. She needed a minute to breathe. A moment to get out this pent-up energy. She glanced from the window. The beach was full of her well-meaning but overbearing family. Jasmine craved a break from here. Her eyes traced the golden coastline.
She went back into the room and turned the baby monitor on, keeping the portable one with her as she quietly exited the room. Closing the bedroom door, she turned towards the staircase and froze. Remy stood at the top step and opened her arms before pulling Jasmine into a hug.
“I know these kinds of days are the toughest.”
It was easy to forget that Remy had lived life as a single mother for almost five years. If anyone knew how hard this was, it was her friend.
Jasmine relaxed into her hold.
“You’re doing all the right things. Zoey is so lucky to have you,” Remy encouraged.
Jasmine’s shoulders felt a little lighter. “Thank you.”
Remy released her. “Anytime, babe. I’m here, ride or die. I mean it. You need anything, I’m your girl.”
“I know.” Jasmine gave her a watery smile. “I need to go for a walk. Can you keep an ear out for Z?” Jasmine handed her the baby monitor.
“Of course.”
Jasmine wiped her eyes one more time. “It sucks that Atlas had to witness me at my worst with her. Do you think he sees me as an unfit mother? Would he try to get full custody of her?”
Remy shook her head. “No way. The looks he’s been sending you all afternoon were more like he wanted you. And then worried for you when you ran inside.”
Jasmine nodded and took a deep breath to steady herself.
“I will try to stop asking so many questions about the situation. I just want you to remember, I’m here and I’ve been in your shoes . . . sort of.”
“I know. I just need some space to figure this out on my own.”
“I’ll try to do that. But your brothers might have other ideas.” Remy smiled mischievously.
“What do you mean?” Nerves buzzed in her stomach. “Remy—what did they do?”