Page 101 of Find Me in California

“Black.”

She smiles sweetly. “Just like your father. Never could understand how he drank it that way. He and Hal used to take their coffees out here every morning before they went off for work.” Matt frowns and she clarifies, “My ex-husband. We divorced years ago.”

“Ah.” He takes a seat. She goes inside the house and returns a moment later with another mug.

“Thanks.”

“Did you move back to Florida?”

He shakes his head. “Just visiting.”

She gives him a knowing look. “California, then? Are you still there?”

“New Mexico.” He gives her a few brief highlights of his life: his photography, assignments, and travels.

“No wife?” she asks when he finishes.

“No wife.”

“Girlfriend? Partner?”

“Neither. One day.” He says that with surprising ease, amazed he feels excited at the possibility.

“I miss your parents.”

“I do too.”

“They were good people.”

Matt nods, sullen.

“I think of them every so often, especially your mom. I really liked her.”

“She was wonderful.”

After a beat, Kathy throws up her hands. “I just remembered. Wait here.”

While she’s gone, Matt looks around. Many homes have been updated, but much about the canal hasn’t changed. He can almost picture his dad tossing their fishing rods into the skiff. He can see his mom correcting test papers on the rear deck. And he smiles. He regrets not returning sooner than he has, but he’s glad he finally did.

The glass door slides open and Kathy returns. “I’ve kept this for years, not quite sure what to do with it. Maybe I hoped you’d come back someday. I found it after the estate company moved everything from your parents’ house. It must have fallen off a shelf or out of a drawer. It belongs to you. You should take it.”

She gives him a photograph, and Matt stares at it in stunned silence.

“Do you know who they are? I could never tell but figure it must have been important for your mom to keep it.”

He flips the photo over. Penciled on back isLiza & Magnolia Blu, Beverly Hills, 1972.

“It’s my grandmother,” he says, not taking his eyes off the photo. “And her friend, Magnolia Blu.” The photo is almost an exact replica of the one Ruby Rose had at Julia’s house. They’re so similar that the pictures must have been taken in sequence.

Kathy’s smile is smug. “I knew it was important. Glad I kept it.”

“Me too.” Because his memory is slowly returning. His mom kept the photo in the middle drawer of her desk. Matt recalls finding it when he went looking for a sharpened pencil once. He’d asked his mom about it, and she told him, “That’s your grandmother and the only genuine friend I think she ever had.” It was the only photo of her mother Aubrey had.

Matt releases a shaky breath and settles back into the chair. Turns out he had seen Magnolia Blu before. He remembers returning to this photo on numerous occasions just to look at it. And sure enough—he peers closer—Magnolia is wearing the crystal pendant.

Well, I’ll be damned.

Magnolia was buried deep in his subconscious.

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