goofy is that?â She drew a deep breath, her smile and twinkle fading. âEspecially since I havenât really slept in almost six months.â
âSix months?â
âThere was a tornado.â She inhaled again deeply and blew out loudly. âMy house is gone and everything I owned. Well, except for my bicycle because I rode it to work that day, and thatâs where I was when the tornado struck. It didnât hit the restaurant or the town, for that matter. I liveâI lived on a farm.â
A tornado? The poor child. âIâm so sorry. You and your family werenât harmed?â
âNo. I mean, I wasnât. I donât have any family. No siblings or cousins. My grandparents are gone. My mother died three years ago. There were only the four of us.â
âNo dad?â
âUh, my mom, uh, wasnât sure who he was. He was just passing through town. She was only eighteen.â
Oh my! âIâm so sorry. But you had friends to help you after the tornado? A special young man? Oh, dear. Iâm snooping. Bad habit.â
âThatâs okay. I think I need to talk. Friends, yes. Special guy, no.â She grimaced, as if to say there had been one at some point and that it had not ended well.
âThese past months must have been about the worst in your life.â
âYeah.â She breathed out the word, as if grateful for Livâs two centsâ worth of sympathy. âIâd say the worst. So, you see? It doesnât make any sense why I could sleep here right after I lost everything again. But then, nothing has made sense since the instant I stuck my foot in the ocean and felt like Iâd come home. Everything about San Diego is familiar. Even the freeways. Back home, Valley Oaks doesnât have one stoplight and the highways are two-lanes through farmland. The very first day I got here, I zipped along six lanes of traffic as though it were old hat and I drove straight to the Seaside Village beach without taking one wrong turn.â
Liv held the teacup to her mouth to hide a smile. On second thought, Jasmyn Albright was not in the least bit mousy.
âThen my things were stolen, but I was rescued and treated like a princess. I didnât even have to ask for cream for my coffee. It was right there in the fridge. Poof! Like magic. And I slept for the first time since my house was crushed into a pile of matchsticks. To tell you the truth, itâs getting a little scary. And I canât believe Iâm telling you all this.â
âMy goodness, that is a curious chain of events, isnât it?â Liv set downher cup on the small table between the chairs and cleared her throat. âWhy did you choose the Seaside Village beach over the others?â
âI read about it online.â She shrugged. âIt sounded like the prettiest one.â
âI think it is. Well. Would you like my take on things?â She had learned to ask permission. In her crazy coot days sheâd had a tendency to jump in with both feet and splash others who did not want to get wet. They seldom came back for more.
âOkay?â Jasmynâs voice went up as if she asked a question.
Liv heard it as assent, though, and measured her words. If she said that the Holy Spirit prompted her to stand at the gate yesterday so that she would see Jasmyn in distress and be able to help, the girl might run off. If Liv explained that she had walked through Cottage Eleven, sprinkled holy water around, and prayed for Jasmyn to feel like a princess in it, the girl would hightail it out of there for sure.
Liv chose neutral territory. âLife is a mystery, and it hardly ever makes sense. All I know for sure is that you ended up here when you needed help. And it was Labor Day when no one was working, and we could easily pool our resources. Coco, by the way, donated the cream. She insisted that you have it because she uses it in her coffee.â
Jasmyn gave
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley