Authors: Sally John
Great-grandparents. Jasmyn smiled to herself, deep inside where it wouldn't scare Manda off. “What was your dad like?”
Manda looked out the window, quiet for a moment. “He was confident. A hard worker. He started driving a truck when he was seventeen. He grew the company into a huge success, and not because he was a nice guy. He was fair with clients but a royal pain as a boss. He hated fishing.” She turned toward Jasmyn. “He was unfaithful to my mother when I was thirteen. They almost divorced. I doubt that was the only time. I mean, he did long hauls for twenty-five years. Pretty easy to hook up with someone else when you're basically gone four out of every six weeks.”
“When did he stop driving?”
“After that incident. She gave him an ultimatum. He hired more drivers and worked in the office.”
“He drove to Chicago all those years?”
“No. He built up a territory on the coast and gave up that run.”
“When?”
“I don't know exactly. It was before I was born.”
“So⦔ Jasmyn hadn't felt the bubble of hope until now, as it popped. “Then he might not have known that Jerri Albright was pregnant.”
“Or he did and he bailed.” She sighed. “I loved my father. We were friends. He taught me everything about the business. I'm a good driver because he was a good driver. But given his history, I don't know what he would have done if he had known.”
“When you drove to Chicago, you were following a diary of his?”
“It's more of a list. He liked to keep track of places he visited. A quirk of his.”
“Are there dates in it? Like exactly when before you were born he was last in Chicago?”
“That would be in the manifest.” She paused, lost in thought. “I think we still have them from back then, buried somewhere in the garage. I can't promise when I'll get to themâ I'm sorry, but I have to say this. My mom is taking Dad's death badly. I hope you won't contact her?”
Jasmyn sat back, surprised. “I wouldn't do that.”
They stared at each other.
“No, I believe you wouldn't. Thank you.” Manda scooted her chair from the table. “I really have to go. Maybe someday we can⦔ She shrugged.
Jasmyn stood with her and smiled. “Maybe.”
Manda returned her smile and they shook hands.
“Did you ever want a brother or a sister?” Jasmyn asked.
“Nope. Guess I was having too good a time being the one and only. Take care.”
“You too.”
As Manda hurried to the door, Jasmyn sank back into her chair. Her legs weren't quite ready to carry her to the door, let alone down the street.
Well, she had wanted a brother or a sister. Not that it mattered now. She had one and did not even know her phone number or email address. They hadn't been offered, and after Manda told her not to contact her mother, Jasmyn wasn't asking. It was clear they were going nowhere.
That last smile of Manda's? The tip of her nose had tilted, her brows rose up just a bit. It was the same smile Jasmyn gave customers who changed their order umpteen times and then asked for the moon.
Sure. No problem.
Maybe someday we canâ¦
Do what? Exchange contact information? Send Christmas cardsâ
“Hey.” Manda stood beside her. “I just wanted to tell you something about my dad. For all his macho posturing, he liked gardening. He spent a lot of time taking care of our yard.” She paused, as if deciding whether to go on or not, and then she took a breath. “The whole back fence was lined with jasmine.” With a quick nod, she scurried off again.
Jasmyn's chest felt as if a whole rack of barbecued ribs had gone down the wrong pipe.
After Manda left the coffee shop a second time, Jasmyn sat for several minutes, waiting for the pain in her chest to clear.
Carlos Anibal apparently liked the jasmine plant.
Jasmyn Annabelle's mother had chosen her name well. Purposefully.
Which meantâ¦
Honestly? It probably meant very little except Jerri knew a lot more about Jasmyn's father than she had admitted.
A loud banging on the window caught her attention.
On the other side, Chad grinned at her. He made senseless sweeping gestures. She shrugged. He put his palm against the pane, mouthed
Wait
, and walked toward the door.
Like she was going somewhere? Breathing was still an issue.
Chad plunked a large shopping bag on the table and disappeared behind it as he sat down. “How'd it go?”
“How'd what go?”
He peeked around the corner of the bag. “Oh, dear. That bad?”
Jasmyn's forehead hurt, as if the skin were all knitted into furrows. “I'll be fine.”
“PDA alert!” he called out. “PDA!”
“What?”
Before the word was out of her mouth, he was at her side and pulling her up into his arms. “Public Demonstration of Affection.”
The hug felt awkward. Her head was buried in his shoulder, but she
knew people must be watching after his announcement. He held on to her tightly, until it began to feel like exactly what she needed.
“But,” he murmured, “I don't do public display of tears.”
“Me neither.” She disengaged herself and wiped her eyes with her sweater sleeves. “I did once, in front of my smashed-up house. Got my picture in the newspaper in five counties. It was awesome.”
“Oh, Jazzie.” He pointed to the bag. “This will cheer you up.”
She looked inside and saw rubbery material, black with a wide streak of pink. “A wetsuit?” She lifted the thick, bulky suit out partway.
“My sister's. I recalled this morning that she had left one at home. She's taller than you, so it might be a bit long, but it should suffice for today. We never did get to our surfing lesson. I don't know where the time went. You'll probably be winging your way back to Illinois soon, so we better hop to it. As in right now. Seriously, the surf's up, dude.”
“Chad, the tag is still on this suit.”
“What can I say? My sister bought it and never used it. She takes wastefulness to new heights. I suppose all we Rutherfords have that habit. I hope you won't hold it against me.” He exaggerated a sad face. “Mildred does.”
Jasmyn giggled.
“That's better.” He smiled and looked somber at the same time, as only handsome Chadwick could. “You know, Jasmyn, the biological family is not all it's cracked up to be. Which explains my presence at the Casa. We're family without being family.”
She nodded and folded the wetsuit back into the bag. “Which explains your presence here too?”
He grinned. “I suppose so! Okay, let's go hang ten and all that business.”
As they headed toward the door, she noticed a coffee mug in his hand. “I forgot to put my cup in the bin. Here, I'll take that one too.”
He yanked his hand away. “I'm stealing this one.”
“Not really.”
“Yeah, really. They don't sell these and you can't find them anywhere. The heft is perfect. I could offer to pay an inordinate amount of money for it. Or tell them we need it for a criminal investigation and I left my badge at home.”
She touched his arm and stopped walking. “Chad, what are you doing?”
He rolled his eyes. “Now everyone is looking.” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “It's for the DNA. Keagan can do something with it.”
Jasmyn took the mug from him, walked back to the table, picked up her mug, and deposited both of them in the collection bin. At the door, she smiled at Chad. “Thanks but no thanks.”
“You're sure?”
“I'm sure. She's my sister.”
Friday evening Liv opened her front door and saw, of all people, Samantha. She couldn't remember the last time Samantha had knocked on her cottage door without a specific invitation. Typically, she sought Liv out in the office. This might be a first.
Liv was all but certain that the expression of concern on the girl's face was a first. “Samanthaâ”
“She's not at home. Is she here?”
There was no need to ask who. “Yes, she's here.”
“Mmm. Do I smell mac and cheese?”
Liv smiled. “There's plenty.”
“Thanks.”
Liv followed her across the living room. Samantha still wore her work outfitâblack slacks, black blazer, plain off-white silk shell, small gold stud earrings. According to her clothing, her company did not have casual days. Liv figured that suited their prestigious reputation.
They entered the kitchen, where Jasmyn sat at the table. Samantha sighed loudly, a sound of relief. “Jasmyn.”
“Hi.” She smiled. “Just in time for mac and cheese.”
Samantha slid onto a chair beside her. “You're smiling. That's a good sign.”
“Chad taught me to surf.”
“Okay. Nice.” She leaned forward. “And the meeting went how?”
Jasmyn held out a hand and rocked it back and forth. “Did you ever try surfing?”
“Yes. I bruised a rib and nearly broke my arm. You're changing the subject.”
“There's not much to tell, really.”
Liv got another plate from the cupboard and set it in front of Samantha. “Why don't we eat?”
Samantha said to Jasmyn, “Just tell me one thing. Is she or isn't she?”
“She is.”
“Wow.” She blinked. “Wow. Manda Smith is your sister?”
“Half.”
“Half. That's exciting. Isn't it?”
“Yeah. It is. Really. But it's also sort ofâ¦I don't know. That's that?”
Liv pulled her casserole from the oven.
Earlier in the day, Jasmyn had poked her head in the office, relayed the same noninformation about her meeting with Manda Smith, and held up a wetsuit. Liv invited her to dinner later. No matter how at ease the girl appeared, Liv figured comfort food would be in order. She prepared her famous three-cheese macaroni, chicken, and truffle oil dish.
Samantha chatted about her day. Samantha, chatting and making small talk! Who would have imagined she could do that? Jasmyn had worked wonders in her short time at the Casa.
What were they going to do without her?
Liv busied herself setting the table with a bowl of spinach salad and adding lemon slices to glasses of mineral water. She put the eleven-by-fourteen-inch casserole dish near her plate.
“Liv, where's the army?” Samantha asked.
“I never could cook for just a few.” She pulled out her chair, and there was another knock on the door. “Syd asked every night where the guests were.”
“There they are.”
Liv went to the door.
Keagan was less a surprise than Samantha.
He stated with certainty, “She's here.”
“She's fine.”
He cocked his head, waiting, not moving along as he usually would.
Mr. Antisocial wanted to come in? Liv wondered if there was a virus going around.
She shut the door behind him. “Mac and cheese?”
“No, thanks.”
They went to the kitchen and she got out another plate and fork.
“Ladies.” Keagan pulled out a chair and sat.
Jasmyn's brows rose and Samantha squinted a question behind his back at Liv.
Liv shrugged.
There was another knock.
“Really, Liv?” Samantha's tone accused.
The girl probably thought Liv had called a meeting. “I didn't. I swear.”
Keagan said, “She always makes enough to feed a platoon.”
Samantha asked, “Is that smaller than an army?”
Liv opened the door.
Beau stood on her doorstep. “Evening, Miss Olivia. I was just on my way out and smelled something burning.”
“It's cheese. It overflowed out of the casserole.”
He grinned.
She smiled. “Hungry?”
In the kitchen he said, “Well, hey, everybody,” and sat.
Samantha crossed her arms. Keagan nodded. Jasmyn waved.
Liv added a place setting in front of Beau, slid out a chair at the oval table, and noticed the vacant sixth chair. “Why don't I just stand until Chadwick knocks. He usually has a nose for my mac and cheese.”
Jasmyn said, “He told me he was having dinner with his sister tonight.”
Liv sat.
She was at a loss how to melt the ice. It was an odd combination gathered round her table. Keagan avoided socializing, so he was no help. Samantha's small talk had gone silent after Beau arrived. Jasmyn was off, closed in on herself. Beau could normally talk to a wall, but tonight he seemed tongue-tied. Perhaps because he sat next to Samantha?