From the passenger seat in Sam’s car, Jasmyn watched the scenery zip by along the two-lane highway. Except for distant mountains, it was curiously similar to Illinois country: wide open, full of trees, rolling hills, cows and horses, little traffic.
She was so excited about her first visit to the desert that she could hardly sit still or stop jabbering about every tree they passed. “Sorry. I’m a little bouncy.”
Sam glanced over, the scenery reflected in her sunglasses. “A little? That ‘what would Liv do’ business is nowhere in sight.”
Jasmyn thought she heard teasing in her friend’s tone, but she should probably give up trying to read Samantha Whitley. The only thing she understood for sure was that Sam most often resembled the big Jeep they rode in: dark, moody, and full of attitude, her interior concealed by tinted windows.
“You mean Liv wouldn’t be excited about going to the desert with you?”
“She wouldn’t be going in the first place.” Sam scrunched her lips together and muttered under her breath, “Probably because I wouldn’t invite her.”
Jasmyn didn’t bother to ask why. Sam was the most private person she had ever met. Jasmyn doubted she would invite anyone except maybe Chad. She hadn’t exactly asked Jasmyn. “See, there’s the difference between Liv and me. I didn’t wait for an invitation. I barged my way in.” She raised her voice to a falsetto. “ ‘Sam! For real? You’re going to the desert? I’ve never, ever been to a desert!’ Hint, hint.”
Sam smiled at her, a full-on, un-Sam-like smile. “No problem, as long as you don’t need me to play tour guide. Besides, you needed a day off. You’ve been playing Liv for two weeks straight. Which, by the way, you do really well.”
“I’m not so sure. I could keep the courtyard and laundry room clean in my sleep. The ‘mama’ part totally escapes me.”
“You throw a pretty mean potluck, though. Very Mama Liv style.”
Jasmyn felt her face blush. “I was so far outside my comfort zone.”
“Really? You seemed like a natural, being all social butterflyish.”
She laughed. “I guess it’s similar to waitressing. But at the restaurant I’m only responsible for putting food on the table, not asking people to come to my place and then making sure they’re comfortable. That’s what Liv does so well. That’s her ‘mama’ persona.”
“Okay, no ‘Mama Jasmyn’ nickname. But honestly, the Casa would have fallen apart by now without you.”
Two compliments from Sam? Quinn would tell Jasmyn to shut up and accept them. “Thanks.”
“It’s true. You’re not Liv, but you are you and that’s what we needed. Like a ray of sunshine. Hey, that fits your name, doesn’t it? All bright.”
Jasmyn groaned.
“You’ve been told that before.”
“Once or twice.”
Sam chuckled as she slowed the car and turned off the pavement onto a narrow dirt path.
They drove for several moments, up a hill, winding around boulders and low-lying bushes. The Jeep easily rumbled over rocks and crevices.
She braked and turned off the car. “Follow me.”
The instant Jasmyn stepped outside, a sudden quiet hit her. It was physical enough to feel like hands clapping over her ears, deafening her.
She scrambled behind Sam on blond-colored dirt strewn with rock up a steep incline. Ahead she could only see its rim and above it the bluest of blue skies. She caught up to Sam at the top, saw beyond the rim, and gasped.
“Welcome to the desert, Jasmyn Albright.”
The vista before them seemed larger than even the ocean. It stretched on and on and on. It was bigger than enormous. There were mountains in the distance painted in reds and browns and purples…boulders of all shapes and sizes scattered about like confetti…plants in gray-greens and browns, small and low to the ground. The highway looped like a thread in and out, behind and through it all.
Jasmyn exhaled. “Oh my gosh. I thought it would be…I don’t know. Dull. I never imagined…” How could she have imagined? The desert was too vast and too beautiful for words.
“Next March this will be a carpet of flowers. The scents, unbelievable.”
“Can we come?”
Sam chuckled. “Jasmyn, you can drive yourself here anytime you want. You saw how short and easy the route is.”
“I could, couldn’t I? I’ll bring Liv. The ride would do her good. Maybe Tasha and her mom. Inez would enjoy it. Oh, Sam, thank you for showing this to me.”
“You’re welcome.”
They stood for a while longer. Sam seemed to soak it in as much as Jasmyn did.
Jasmyn remembered how Sam had agreed the city felt confining, like a straitjacket. She wondered then why Sam didn’t leave it more often. And if her home in Arizona was anything like this, why wouldn’t she go back there, at least for visits.
Which begged the question, if Jasmyn also thought the city felt like a straitjacket, why would she dread going back to Valley Oaks and her beloved green fields?
She was dreading it.
But who needed to wonder about that right now? She was in the desert.
“Hey,” Jasmyn said. “I thought you weren’t going to play tour guide.”
“I’m not. It begins and ends here. I just wanted you to see this.” She pressed her lips together. She appeared to be having an emotional moment.
Sam? Emotional? Maybe she’d left dark and moody back in the car.
At last she spoke. “In all honesty, you know how it is to see something through someone else’s eyes? It changes your perspective somehow. Things look brand new. Uncluttered.” She paused. “I used to love the wilderness, but I’d lost sight of that. Today it’s back. Thanks.”
“Anytime.” Jasmyn smiled. “You could return the favor. I used to love the cornfields and my hometown. Maybe if you came with me to Valley Oaks…”
“In your dreams.”
“You could have ribs slathered in Danno’s sauce.”
“No, thanks. I hear it’s cold there. Come on, I have to get to my meeting.”
Jasmyn took one last gaze at the bigness and whispered, “Thank You.”
It was what Liv would have done. And it felt good.