Late Tuesday night, Jasmyn sat in her borrowed rocker in her borrowed cottage and, using a borrowed cell phone, she phoned Quinn.
No way was she going to tell her about how Liv prayed and thought she got answers or how Jasmyn felt definite mom vibes coming from the woman. But she did describe the sense of homecoming to end all homecomings.
“Quinn, it feels like I’ve been away for such a long time and now I’m back. I’m back home.”
“You’re back home. In California. Jasmyn, that’s the loopiest thing you have ever said. But then again, you are loopy. I mean that in the most affectionate way.”
It was a running joke. Jasmyn was loopy, Quinn was sassy.
Quinn sighed. “It sounds more like heaven. No work, no humidity, no bugs. Movie stars around every corner. Not to mention you’re on vacation, loafing on the beach, and doing those number puzzles to your heart’s content.”
“I haven’t seen a movie star.”
“You wouldn’t recognize one in the flesh. On the street they look just like us.”
“Oh, Quinn, it’s more than that kind of stuff.” How could she describe the impact of Southern California?
She was a country girl who had never been anywhere before. She loved the Midwest and its beautiful, changing seasons. By now the cornstalks would be elephant-eye high, the soybeans beginning to yellow, the air wobbling with late summer heat. Potted mums of every color would be on everyone’s front stoop. Tree-covered hillsides would soon be masses of brilliant reds, yellows, and oranges.
Which was why the effect of the crowded city and its ocean surprised her so much.
“It could be that California feels good simply because it’s not Valley Oaks where a tornado turned your life on its ear.”
“Maybe. But still…” Still, it felt as if she had landed in a never-never land of unbelievably exquisite sights and smells. Sights they had seen on television and smells they paid for. “Quinn, you know how we buy dried eucalyptus stems at the craft store?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So guess what. Eucalyptus trees actually grow here. Whole entire blocks smell like our little bouquets. And the flowers. Oh my goodness. Jasmine blooms outside my cottage. Jasmine! Walking down the street is like walking past the perfume counter at Dillards. And the sky! It’s every shade of blue rolled into one and coated with a pearly glaze. And the ocean! Surfers ride on the waves, on top of the waves with seagulls and pelicans and dolphins. And people are so happy. They’re always smiling.”
Quinn laughed. “Well, yeah they’re smiling. They’re all either on vacation or they get to live there full-time at the perfume counter with the seagulls and the pelicans and the dolphins.”
“That was mean.”
“Sorry. Hey, I get it. I do. After what happened here, I don’t blame you for feeling at home somewhere else. A vacation was definitely in order, but I really think you should cut it short.”
“Why? I planned to stay four weeks. It’s only been ten days, and I haven’t been to Disneyland yet, and some people here said they’d go with me and even loan me the money if the debit card doesn’t get here soon.”
“But all your new stuff was stolen! It’s like you’re jinxed. At least back here you know people. Not to mention I miss you like crazy. We all do. Customers ask about you every day. Danno’s having fits over the new girl, who is absolutely clueless. No kidding. I’m talking true-blue space cadet.”
Jasmyn could imagine Danno scowling at the new girl the exact same way he had scowled at her when she started, pretending he didn’t have a heart of gold.
“Work is a total drag with Miss Airhead. Sorry. That was mean. Again. I’m nicer when you’re here. You know, we don’t call you Sunshine for nothing.”
Suddenly Jasmyn felt tired, way down, bone-deep tired. She wished with all her heart she had a safe place to go to. Living in a borrowed cottage with borrowed things and surrounded by borrowed friends did not exactly fill the bill.
But then neither did Valley Oaks anymore, not since the tornado.