Page 81 of Find Me in California

Matt’s back goes rigid. “So he didn’t know.”

“Apparently not.” Julia imagines things would have turned out differently for Matt had Adam known about their relationship. To think his daughter Aubrey grew up right under his nose and neither of them knew. “Liza told Adam last month. She believes that’s why he disappeared. He left her quite upset and broke off contact.”

“He fell and hit his head. Broke his leg too,” Matt says. “Lenore told me. His daughter called this evening to say he had amnesia and forgot about Liza.”

“You have an aunt.” He could have uncles and cousins too. A whole family of relatives. Jealousy slithers underneath her skin. “Are you going to call him?” she asks of Adam.

He’s quiet for a breath. “I want to.”

The combined longing and hesitation in his tone is unmistakable. She knows from Mama Rose’s diary that Adam was married and had his own kids while working for Liza. She imagines Adam’s family, especially his wife if she’s still alive, might not take kindly to the news that Adam had a child with his employer, or that he has a grandson through her too.

The probability of them rejecting him is high and might not be something he wants to explore given what he went through with Liza. She hasn’t reached out to her mom for that very reason. Lea rejecting her once was too much. But to go through that twice? Julia won’t risk her scarred heart.

Matt has gone quiet, presumably lost in thought like her. His head falls forward as she moves down his neck to relieve the tension in his shoulders. “This is ... awesome. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” She squeezes his shoulders, her thumbs pressing into the muscles between the blades, and a sharp pain shoots up her forearms. She makes a noise in the back of her throat.

“You okay?” Matt twists to look up at her.

“Yeah, fine.” She shakes out her wrists, and his gaze drops to see her rubbing the base of her palms.

“You’re not fine.” He grasps her hand and tugs her into the chair beside him.

“What are you doing?” she asks. But once she’s seated, the tension she’s been holding on to all day pours out. She falls back against the chair, and his smile is slight, understanding.

“Who massages the massage therapist?” He smirks and they fall into a companionable silence. He’s massaging her hands, and she wants to melt into a puddle at his feet. Their eyes make contact, and something indiscernible passes between them. An understanding of sorts, a common goal—she doesn’t know. But whatever it is, it’s steadily growing, and she’s sorely tempted to explore it.

Matt studies her hands as he draws his knuckles along her forearm. She stares at his fair scalp where his hair parts. Questions she’s been dying to ask bubble to the roof of her mouth.

“So, you weren’t with a woman this weekend. You were hallucinating?”

He pauses midstroke and then starts up again, applying firmer pressure. “I honestly don’t know what happened this weekend. I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

“You don’t sound delusional, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She was raised by a woman who regularly smoked pot and hosted 420 parties well into the early 2000s. Mama Rose had an eclectic group of friends who frequently saw illusions, as they’d describe them, when they were high. Their visions sparked lively conversations that often led to deep introspection about what they meant.

“Do you think it was those gummies your friend gave you?” she asks.

“Must have been.”

Julia chews on that a moment. “So, you were drugged and stoned—”

“And drunk,” he adds with a self-deprecating smirk.

“—imagining yourself with Mama Rose.”

He clears his throat. “Magnolia Blu. That’s who she told me she was.”

“Right. And all this was happening while you were talking with me, while I was telling you about Magnolia Blu and reading from her diary, and during all that other stuff we talked about?” Like falling in love and whether life is worth living if you don’t allow yourself to love.

He nods. “Strange, I know.”

Julia nibbles her lip. “What were you imagining yourself doing with her while you were talking with me?”

With fascination, she watches a flush move up his neck to his cheeks.

“Matt?”

“Nothing much.”

---