Page 48 of Find Me in California

“I’m fine,” he says, fully aware his actions yesterday tell a different story.

He leaves the bathroom and adds the toiletries bag to his duffel, then zips that bag.

“You’re not. It sounds to me like you’re having some sort of crisis.”

“I’m fine, honest.” He’ll push through the mental muck as he always does.

“Where are you? I’ll fly in.”

“Are you saying I can’t handle my shit?” He comes off defensive, but he’s not angry at Dave. He’s pissed off with himself for screwing up his alarm.

He stalks the room, making sure he’s got everything. He surveys the empty food containers he doesn’t remember picking up. He sniffs at the half-eaten burger and cold fries. When did he go on a food run? He swears he didn’t leave the room.

“I’m not saying that. But you’ve got me worried.”

“Ford’s photos will get done. I’ll work on them some before I leave and send you what I’ve got.” Without downtime on the plane, he didn’t make any progress yesterday. “You’ll have the rest by Tuesday morning.”That’ll give him a day to make changes if Dave doesn’t agree with the selection.

“I’m talking about you, asshole. The photos can wait.”

Matt yanks open the curtain. Daylight blasts into the room. He squints against the glare and the punch the light sends to his head. He jerks the curtain closed.

“I’ll be fine. Honest.”

“So I don’t need to remind you about Le Mans?”

“No, you don’t.”

“Good. I’ll check in with you later. You better be in California by then.”

He will.

Dave hangs up, and Matt glares at the room. What a disaster. Even the bed looks like he was fighting something in his sleep. He dreamed about his mom and one of the last conversations they had. They’d been sitting side by side on the seawall and sharing the blanket he brought to keep her warm. She spent so many hours on that wall after his dad died, gazing out to sea.

“Your dad’s out there,” she told him. “He’s living on a small island now.”

Matt wanted to believe that was true. “Where?”

“There.” She pointed to the horizon. “You can’t see it from here. It’s just a speck, smaller than the stars.”

Matt glanced up at the sheet of glitter above them. “How do you know he’s there?”

She smiled at him, brushed back the hair that had blown in his face. “I just do.”

He was confused. She knew his dad had died. Why did she say he was alive?

“There are coconuts and shrimp there,” she explained. “More than you can eat in a lifetime. He’s waiting for us.”

The paradise she described sounded fantastical. Miraculous. But Matt knew his dad’s island was nothing more than a story to help his mom cope.

His mom, though . . .

He thinks she started to believe her own tales. He shakes the images from his head, doing his best to put them behind him.

It’s after 1:30 p.m. when Matt fires off the first batch of edited photos to Dave, bites off half an edible for his headache, and checks out of the motel. He settles in his car and is about to leave when something in the passenger footwell catches his eye.

He grabs the leather fringed satchel and swears. Magnolia’s purse. How’d he miss this?

He searches the bag for a wallet or something with her phone number so he can call her, but he finds only a lighter, rolling paper, and weed.

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