Between Us Girls (32 page)

“Exactly. What's beyond discombobulated?”

He chuckled. “A dozen water balloons going
splat
?”

She smiled. “Right in front of me.”

“Want to tell me the whole goofy story?”

She heard Quinn's voice again and her own constantly interrupting the words that made absolutely no sense. She needed to put it in some sort of order. The first thing Quinn had said was that Jasmyn had a sister. Jasmyn said that was impossible. Quinn said she didn't think so. Jasmyn had actually argued with her before she heard anything else.

She looked at Keagan, trying to comprehend how she had gotten from bumping bags in the check-in line to drinking tea and watching the sky turn pink above the hilly peninsula behind Keagan's shoulder.

“They lived there.” She pointed.

“Point Loma?”

“Yes. The grandfather was a Portuguese fisherman. He caught tuna. It was big business for decades. I read about it when Liv and I went to the Maritime Museum.” She leaned forward. “Now that I think about it, I could have actually seen a photograph of my grandfather there.”

“Your grandfather?”

She straightened. She was chasing so many rabbit trails. “This woman's grandfather. This maybe-sister of mine, her grandfather.”

“Why don't you start at the beginning?” Keagan spoke gently. “Did Quinn meet her?”

“Yes. She walked into the Flying Pig today for a late lunch. Quinn did a double take. Danno did a double take. Mrs. Benson and Mr. Anderson did double takes. Nancy Standard—she was my sixth grade teacher—said, ‘Jasmyn! Holy Moses! When did you get back in town?' ”

“Hmm.”

“Yeah. Quinn said we could pass for identical twins. No joke. This woman wondered what in the world was going on. Quinn told her about her ‘twin' and they got to talking. Manda Smith. That's her name. Manda Smith.” Jasmyn repeated the name slowly, feeling the new sounds in her mouth.

“You must not favor your mom or your grandparents then?”

“No, not at all. They were tall and blond. Mom was beautiful. Gramma called her a loser magnet. It's not nice to say, but she was.” She scrunched her nose at the memory of the losers her mother dated. It was obvious why Jasmyn had always shied away from men and why she assumed her father was not a man she cared to meet. “I always figured I looked like my dad.” The tears stung again. “Manda said he died last year. It shouldn't matter. It's not like I met him or even have a clue if he was my dad.”

Keagan reached across the table and touched her hand briefly. “It matters and you do have clues. Quinn told you more, right?”

She nodded. “He grew up out here, on the water. His grandparents came over from Portugal to fish.” She stopped again. “Keagan, the first time I saw the ocean, I felt like I was home. Like something inside of me got settled.”

He tilted his head, as if he disagreed.

“I know. It's one of those things no one could believe.”

“It's not that. I had a friend who went to Scotland once, where her ancestors had come from. She basically said the same thing.”

“Really? Then maybe it's not my imagination?”

He shrugged.

“Sorry. Another rabbit trail. I can't focus.”

“It's okay. What put Manda's dad in proximity of your mother?”

She took a deep breath. “He was an over-the-road driver. He had his own trucking firm. For a time, he hauled things between here and Chicago. Manda's a driver too. She and her husband run the company now. They cover the West Coast, but she had always wanted to follow her dad's old route someday. He kept a detailed log of every town, restaurant, park, and rest stop he was at. So that's what she was doing in Valley Oaks.”

“It's in writing that he was in Valley Oaks?”

She shook her head. “He wrote the name of the truck stop on I-80, twenty miles from Valley Oaks. My mom worked there thirty-six years ago. Manda took the exit, but the place is gone. She got back on the interstate, saw the billboard advertising the Flying Pig, and took that exit. I guess she was hungry.”

“And she met Quinn and Danno.”

“Right.”

“Hmm.”

They sat in silence a few moments. Jasmyn picked apart a roll. Keagan dipped his spoon into his bowl of chowder.

“The guy stopped at the place your mother worked. We're not quite into convincing evidence yet.”

“You never met my mother.”

He eyed her over his spoon.

She was glad not to see judgment. “Mom was eighteen and already had a reputation. It wasn't a nice one. She pretty much kept it going until she died. People weren't always accepting of us.”

He lowered his spoon. “I'm sorry.”

“The only thing she ever told me about him was that he was handsome and just passing through town. I should get over it.”

He winced.

“So I did. Old news. Anyway, Quinn and I agree that this guy stopping by where she worked could easily mean she got pregnant with me.”

“Did Quinn tell Manda all of this?”

“No. Goodness, no. She just showed Manda my picture and said she was sure I'd like to meet her. Quinn told her I was in Seaside Village and there was a coffee shop. Manda knew it and agreed to see me there on Friday. She didn't want to exchange any contact information. At first she was all friendly and jabbered with Quinn about why she was there and where she was from. But the more they talked, she became a little standoffish. Although she gushed over Danno's sauce.” Jasmyn couldn't help but smile.

“Maybe you could make it for us sometime.”

“No way. He's never given the correct recipe to anyone.”

“From what you've said, I think you're special to him. I bet when he retires, he'll give it to you. What did he think about all this?”

“Quinn said he ducked out while they were still talking and didn't come back until after Manda had left.” She picked at her roll, shredding it to crumbs on a plate. “She could back out. Not show up at Jitters.”

“Or you could.”

Jasmyn looked at him. “No, I couldn't. She's my sister.”

“She's a set of coincidences.”

Jasmyn shook her head. “Danno went looking for her semi. They don't exactly fit in our lot. He found it, on a side road, on the edge of town. The road I used to take to the farm.” She wondered now if God had directed where the woman had parked. It was a silly thing. Another coincidence, that thing Liv said rarely happened.

Keagan took her hand, turned it over, and brushed crumbs from the palm. “And Danno saw the name of the trucking firm.”

“Yes. Anibal Cargo, El Cajon, California. A-N-I-B-A-L. He looked it up online. Nice website, he said. It gave the history, how Carlos Anibal got started by delivering his father's tuna.”

“Then Manda's story is true.”

“Yeah. The thing is, my mom said she never even knew the guy's name or where he was from. She said she just picked ‘Annabelle' out of a name book. She thought it was pretty.”

“Annabelle?”

“My middle name. Coincidence?” She shook her head. “I don't think so.”

Fifty-Four

After Keagan's heads-up phone call to say he was bringing Jasmyn home, Liv whooped in the privacy of her cottage. The explanation was a tad worrisome—a sister in San Diego?—but the bottom line was that she had been given more time to spend with Jasmyn.

After they arrived, Liv reined in her emotions. To some extent.

Her bear hug was probably a bit overdone. She effused too much about how her casa was still Jasmyn's casa, that the sofa, table, and bed were still in place, that she had stocked the refrigerator with just a
few
items to tide Jasmyn through the night and morning, that they would figure out tomorrow, tomorrow.

At least she had stopped short of tucking the girl into bed. Mama Liv doling out that much smothery effort might send the wrong message. Like she was glad Jasmyn's world had once again been turned upside down.

Jasmyn saw her to the door, clearly exhausted, clearly a jumble of emotions. “How do we pray?”

“Thanks and help.” Liv kissed her cheek. “Lots of unknowns, Jasmyn, dear, but they will become known in due time. Get some sleep.”

Outside, Liv kept her feet on the flagstones instead of dancing a jig. Jasmyn might be watching from the window. She rounded the corner of her cottage and saw Keagan in the shadows, leaning against the office door, his arms crossed.

She pulled her ring of keys from a pocket. “You kept her out long enough.”

“She wasn't ready to come home yet.”

“ ‘Home.' ”

“Figure of speech.”

Liv chuckled and unlocked the door. Keagan entered behind her and shut it against the cool night air while she turned on lamps. Of course he was thinking the same thing she was. “Google?”

He carried one of the overstuffed chairs around the desk, sat down in her leather executive chair, and pulled out the keyboard. “I'll drive.”

She smiled and sank onto the more comfy chair beside him. The desk was a big old thing with enough legroom for two. “You can be such a guy sometimes.”

“Mm-hmm.” He turned on the computer, which she had already shut down for the night. “We went to the Maritime Museum. She wanted to see the displays again about the tuna fishermen in the early days.”

“I thought she might have wanted to do some online research.”

He shook his head, typing, eyes on the monitor. “I'm not sure she has a technical bone in her body.”

“Probably not. She's all heart. She kept saying she doesn't know where to put this information. It's a shock to her system, for sure. How was she when you picked her up at the airport?”

“What you just saw, only ten times worse.”

“Weepy and giggly?” Liv tried to imagine ten times worse. Then she tried to imagine Keagan dealing with that. “What did you do?”

For a moment, he did not reply. His hands stilled over the keyboard. “Took her over to the Blue Crab for clam chowder.” He typed again.

“Clam chowder? Now that's the way to comfort a woman.”

He clicked the mouse, apparently engrossed in where the links were leading him.

Or he might be keeping a private moment between him and Jasmyn private. Had he offered a hug? Any other guy would have, but stoic Keagan? She wasn't sure, but if he had, it had been a significant event.

And she should stop meddling.

“It is the best chowder in the county,” she said. “Did you find anything at the museum?”

“No. She studied those faded photos until we were kicked out at eight.”

“It's after ten.” She winced.
Meddler.

“Then we drove around Point Loma,” he offered, no hint of exasperation. “She seemed to just want to hang out where her distant relatives might have lived.”

“Do you think they are her relatives?”

He tilted the monitor to give her a better view. “What do you think?”

Liv adjusted her glasses and looked at a family photo. An elderly couple, a middle-aged couple, a twentysomething couple, and two little tykes stood in front of a fishing boat, its hull and cabin painted an aqua color. The caption read: Carlos Anibal, center, founder of Anibal Cargo, and his family. From Tuna to Total Shipping Services—Transportation You Can Trust.

Except for the young woman, the people faded from Liv's sight. “Oh, my. Do you see the same spitting image of Jasmyn that I see?”

“There's a resemblance in Carlos too.”

Liv refocused her eyes. It was true. The hair, the skin tone, the stature, something about the nose. “Oh, my.”

There was a rap on the office door and Liv jumped. It opened a crack and Samantha peered inside. “Hey. Private party?”

“Come in, dear. Have you talked to Jasmyn tonight?”

“Jasmyn?”

“She's still here.”

Sam, speechless, sat in the chair across the desk. She had just arrived home from work. Liv and Keagan filled her in. They showed her the online photo. Her eyes grew larger and larger.

“This is freaky,” she said more than once.

Keagan continued his research. He found the date of Carlos's death—a year ago in September—and Manda Smith's name as his daughter and owner, with her husband Jake Smith, of Anibal Cargo.

He looked up. “What else?”

Samantha stood. “DNA?”

“I'll work on that.”

It was hard to tell when Keagan was joking. For all Liv knew, he had a plan to get samples from both Jasmyn and these people. She halfway hoped he did have such a plan. That would be true meddling.

Samantha stood. “I should go see her.”