Alone in the Casa’s office, Jasmyn sat at a desk, on the phone with Quinn. As she had imagined, her friend assumed Jasmyn had stumbled upon the sort of group that made national freaky headlines.
“You should come home right now. Tomorrow.”
“When I said everything was stolen, that meant my purse and my wallet and my driver’s license. You can’t get on a plane without ID. I’ll call in the morning about getting it replaced.”
“Oh, no. What are we going to do?”
“Quinn, I’m fine. Really and truly.”
“Would you know if you weren’t? Nope. Cult wackos are always super nice at first. That’s how they get you to trust them. Tell me again about the scary guy.”
“I said he was kind of intimidating, not scary.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Jasmyn wondered how to describe the energy she’d felt when Keagan said with such certainty that Liv was the real deal. “He’s like Sheriff Cal. You wouldn’t want to cross him, but he makes you feel safe.”
“This guy sounds bizarre. Who names their kid Keagan? It’s probably his special cult name.”
Jasmyn stifled a sigh and looked through the office window. Everyone milled about the pretty courtyard and seemed to be having a good time. Liv was easy to spot, tall and laughing.
“Liv is one big heart walking around on two legs.”
“Every cult needs a mother figure and an enforcer. You’ve met them both. What are the others like?”
“Quinn, honestly, they’re just regular people. Sam is a little uptight. She’s the one who got me online. She has short, coal-black hair. You’d call her chic. I thought she was the manager, but she told me Liv manages and owns the place.”
“You should check out the office. See if you can find any incriminating evidence.”
“What in the world would that look like?”
“I have no idea, but you’d recognize it.”
“Right.” Jasmyn swiveled in the chair and took in again the pretty room that, according to uptight Sam, was originally one of the cottages. It had been divided in half to create an office and a laundry room. “I don’t see any. The room looks like a big heart must have decorated it.”
Quinn moaned. “Okay, fine. I’m just concerned.”
“No need. I’m looking at pretty pink floral curtains and wallpaper. Comfy chairs. A rose in a crystal vase. Old photos on the walls. A kitchenette with a super cute teapot on the counter. Only a lovely person has an office like this. I will be fine, Quinn. How’s the picnic going?”
“It’s going.”
Jasmyn pictured her friend right now at the Valley Oaks Labor Day picnic, out at the park by the baseball fields with half the town. Her natural curls would be wound extra tight because of the humidity and sticking to her head like a blond swim cap, but she wouldn’t give a hoot.
“Jasmyn, don’t change the subject. You can’t go through loss like this again, especially not with a bunch of strangers, no matter how regular they seem. We have to get you home.”
Home. Home…
Funny thing. San Diego felt like home. Two weeks ago, she landed, drove straight from the airport to the beach, and dipped her toes into the ocean—the Pacific Ocean!—and an indescribable sense of coming home, of homecoming, washed over her. It was as real as the wave that immediately knocked her flat.
Amazing, awesome, and really, really weird.
Then things got even weirder.
The feeling didn’t go away. For days on end she swam in salt water that drenched her over and over again with a deep, bone-melting, laugh-out-loud happiness. She had come home.
Liv slipped naturally into the home scene. She was the fairy godmother, the heart on two legs, the mother figure. A version of mom that Jasmyn wished she had experienced.
How on earth was she going to explain such things to Quinn?
In the end, Jasmyn did not try to explain such things to Quinn. She gave her friend Casa de Vida’s address and phone number and made a bunch of silly promises, such as she would lock the door, lock the windows, and not give out any PIN numbers or passwords.
Beyond exhausted now, Jasmyn followed Liv through the rooms of Cottage Eleven, blinked, and tried not to cry at the gift being handed to her. Was she awake or asleep? She wasn’t sure.
The tour ended back in the living room.
Liv turned to her. “Jasmyn, dear, what’s wrong?”
She shook her head and shrugged. “It’s so…so…” She shrugged again.
Liv leaned in until she was eye-level with her. “Good or bad?”
Jasmyn whispered, “It’s so good it’s almost bad.”
Liv clapped her hands once and laughed. “I know just what you mean.”
Jasmyn wasn’t sure she did, but how else could she say it? Not two hours ago she had the clothes on her back, a pair of sweats, and a stack of magazines inside a beach bag, and nothing else. Now she had a roof over her head and a home that was filled with necessities and then some. Was it too good to be true?
Of course it was too good to be true. Everything was borrowed. The home was temporary.
“Just remember that you are welcome to stay for as long as you need. Or want.” Liv smiled. “I’m right next door in Ten if you need me. Coco is on your other side in Twelve, but she couldn’t hear fireworks set off in her kitchen. Now get some rest. We’ll tackle the details tomorrow.”
She was out the door before Jasmyn could thank her properly. But what was properly for such an enormous gift?
She roamed back through the cottage. It was small, quaint, and almost as pretty as Liv’s office. The walls were a soft yellow. The hardwood floors gleamed. The bathroom and galley kitchen were spotless.
While she had been on the phone, Liv and the others had created a haven. The living room invited her to sit and relax with a padded rocker, floor lamp, and small television. A fragrant bouquet of flowers graced the wide, built-in seat in front of the bay window.
The kitchen was empty except for a few dishes and cups in the glass-front cupboards, a coffeemaker on the counter, and food from the picnic inside the fridge.
Even sparsely furnished, the bedroom surpassed her motel room when it came to cozy. A multicolored quilt covered the rollaway. On top of it sat a stack of fluffy sea-green towels. Soft light shone from a single reading lamp on a TV tray.
Clothes hung in the closet and toiletries were spread across the vanity in the bathroom. Piper, the beautiful young woman from Four who worked at a department store, had provided all of those things. Apparently clothes and cosmetics were her life, so she had plenty to spare and loved equipping others with them, but still…
It was so good it was almost bad.
Jasmyn giggled. Then she cried. Then she took a shower, slipped into a lavender cotton nightshirt that still had the tags on it, and crawled into bed.