Page 34 of Find Me in California

Liza lifts her nose. “Why are you bothering me?”

“I don’t mean to.”

“But you do.” Her gaze narrows.

Julia sighs and gets to the point. “Why haven’t you told me you and Mama Rose were friends?” Not that it would make a difference. Julia suspects Liza would have still been rude toward her and Mama Rose like she is with everyone else.

“You found the diary.”

“Yes.”

The flush from the room’s warmth drains from Liza’s face. Pink-tinted lips press to a straight line. The creases around her mouth all but disappear. She looks away and stares out the window.

“What happened between you?” Julia gently asks. Liza’s friendship meant something to Mama Rose at one time, enough for her grandmother to write about it in a diary and then remember it out of the blue a half century later. Surely, Liza must have felt the same.

Liza’s nostrils flare. “You have the diary. Read it.”

“I am, but—”

Liza reaches for the cane leaning against her chair and grasps the polished silver handle until her knuckles strain. The bluish veins on her hand expand with the force of her grip.

Sensing Liza’s desire to leave is as great as her unwillingness to discuss their history, Julia plucks the diary from her bag. “She wrote something here ...”

Liza gasps at the sight of it. She stares pointedly at the powder-blue journal with the gold embossed title, her face pinched.

“Have you read it?” Julia drags her thumbnail along the edge, flipping the pages.

Liza’s gaze flits away.

“Of course you have.” Julia answers her own question. “You mentioned secrets.” She presses back in her chair. “You gave Mama Rosea place to stay. You gave her a job. Why aren’t you talking with her? Why do you ignore her?” As far as she knows, they’ve never eaten a meal together since Liza moved in. They’ve never played cards together. Mama Rose loves gin rummy, but Liza prefers to play alone with games like solitaire and pyramid.

Liza glances erratically around the room.

“From what I’ve read, she really liked you.”

Liza’s head swivels to Julia. She glares at her. “You’re a fool if you believe that.”

“But you’re the one who told her you’d be great friends. The day you met, you wanted to be friends with her. In here”—Julia taps the book—“you are.”

“What has she told you?”

“Nothing, not even before she lost her memory. She never mentioned you, and you never mentioned knowing her. I feel like you’re both keeping secrets.”

“How dare you.” Liza bangs her cane, and Julia lurches at the noise. Liza waves to one of the staff, agitated.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to upset you. But I can’t figure out why my grandmother suddenly wants this diary I never knew she kept.” Julia rushes the apology, wanting Liza to understand why her history with Mama Rose is important to her. Mama Rose was always candid with Julia, sharing stories from her wild past. But she never told her about Liza.

The fact Mama Rose kept her friendship with Liza a secret and that Liza chose Rosemont over all the assisted living facilities in the area, plus Julia’s sworn promise to Mama Rose never to move her from Rosemont, makes Julia believe it’s all connected. That her grandmother expected Liza’s arrival. That this was planned beforehand, perhaps years ago. They might have unfinished business.

Julia could also be reading too much into this. Maybe the entire situation is coincidental.

But if her grandmother has a last wish she never shared with Julia, one she couldn’t remember except for that brief lucid moment she requested Julia to locate the diary, Julia is determined to find out what it is.

Liza struggles to her feet. Her book drops onto the floor, followed by Mama Rose’s diary when Julia leans forward to assist.

“Don’t touch me,” Liza seethes.

Julia lurches back. “Sorry.”

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