Beth handed out new homemade earrings to everyone: miniature snail shells for Jack, coral for herself, sea glass for Lana. Lana marveled at the tiny treasures in her palm, using a finger to trace the silver wire her daughter had coiled around the pale teardrops of light.
“Oh! I have a present for you too,” Jack said. She disappeared behind the house, coming back with a redwood branch that had been sanded into an uneven staff.
“What’s this?” Lana asked.
“A big stick.” Jack grinned. “For your new office, when you find one.”
“Thank you.” Lana hefted the stick in her hands. “I’m looking at a potential sublet in the marina tomorrow. It could be the new headquarters for Lana Rubicon and Associates.”
“Associates, Ma?” Beth raised an eyebrow.
Lana smiled. “It has a nice ring to it.”
They piled into Beth’s car, and twenty minutes later, they rolled into the Hot Diggity, thoroughly surprising the owner, Lolo, who was accustomed to seeing the two younger Rubicon women in scrubs and sweats. He dropped a vat of relish on his right foot, causing him to shot-put the wiener in his left hand out the service window of the little red hut. Once his foot stopped throbbing, Lolo apologized for swearing, handed them three foot-longs with onions on the house, and offered to take their picture. Even Lana had to admit that the hot dogs were delicious.
When they got to the drive-in in Salinas, Lana talked the farmer into letting them park in the middle of the front row, in a space Beth was pretty sure the farmer reserved for his own wife. Lana opened a cooler and passed out sodas to all of them—Coke for Jack, Sprite for her and Beth. Beth looked at the Sprite bottle, confused. She’d never seen Lana drink any soda other than Diet Coke. But Lana was already mid-swig. Beth opened her own bottle and took a sip. It was some kind of sparkling wine. Not bad.
The movie was a whodunit. It might have been a good one, but Lana and Jack’s loud, premature conclusions about the murderer made it impossible for Beth to follow the story. By her second bottle of Sprite, it didn’t really matter to Beth either.
Beth looked at Lana. Her mother’s eyes were shining in the reflected light from the screen, her new suit hidden under the patchwork quilt she was sharing with Jack in the back seat. Beth didn’t know, couldn’t know, all the ways it would prove insufferable to have Monterey County’s newest land consultant living in what had once been her garage. She didn’t know the disasters would start the very next day, when she’d come home to find a massive hole punched in her roof to install skylights she hadn’t ordered. All Beth knew was that they were together, they were safe, and they were laughing. And that was enough.
Acknowledgments
This book was born out of desperation and love. Three years ago, my mother—my smart, energetic, independent mother—was diagnosed with metastatic lung cancer. I changed my life and quit my job to care for her. We were grateful to be together, but as the surgeries and treatments mounted, we started to lose hope. We needed a distraction, a project that could connect us in joy instead of anxiety. This book was that project. My mom and I have always enjoyed reading mysteries, so we started imagining one that featured characters a bit like us—hardworking California women trying to balance professional ambition and motherhood. I wrote, and my mom read, and we immersed ourselves in the world of the Rubicons. This book is dedicated to my mother, Sarina, who continues to bring strength, love, and humor into the world.
While this story started with me and my mom, it didn’t end with us. The business of inventing a story is terrifying, and I hit about a million moments when I wondered if I should give up. Each time, a kind word from a loved one kept me going. It was my mom texting me to ask what would happen next, my best friend cooking me dinner, my husband reassuring me this was a good use of time. Henri Matisse once said that creativity takes courage. It does. But it also takes encouragement. Thank you to all the family, friends, and generous humans who read early drafts and gave valuable feedback, including Sibley Simon, Morgan Simon, Carson Nicodemus, Beck Tench, Elise Granata, Meg Watt, Scott Simon, Debbie Richetta Simon, Kay Sibley, Mike Sibley, Paul Dichter, Susan Dichter, Abby Saul, Jessica BrodeFrank, Katherine Caldwell, Kate Coltun, Maria Daversa, Will Delhagen, Jo Dwyer, Elaine Heumann Gurian, Chloe Jones, Allison Kraft, Erin Leary, Taylor Lilley, Lilia Marotta, Kiera Peacock, Serena Rivera, Kate Roberts, Sierra Van Ryck DeGroot, and Susan Walter. Your suggestions made this book stronger, and I was buoyed by your support.