Book Review: Find Me in California

Synopsis:

Raised by her fiercely passionate and free-spirited grandmother, Julia Hope has always known love. But as she cares for her beloved grandmother during her final days, Julia struggles to overcome her fear of being alone.

A thousand miles away, Matt Gatlin has long been estranged from the cold-hearted, callous grandmother with whom he lived as a child. But now, after twelve years of her being blessedly out of his life, she needs him. His resentment is still raw, but Matt packs up his car and reluctantly heads to California to confront his bitter past and ensure that the woman who never cared for him receives the care she now needs.

Over the next six days, Julia’s and Matt’s fates intersect. An old diary exposes the tragedy of a long-lost love. Two families’ histories of long-buried secrets come to light.

And on a lonely back road, Matt picks up an unusual, yet captivating hitchhiker with a secret of her own.

Something heartbreaking and heartwarming, mysterious and beautiful, touches the lives of Julia and Matt with neither of them realizing that just maybe they’re destined for each other.

Review:

Author Kerry Lonsdale knew from a young age that she wanted to be a writer, but she lacked the confidence to pursue her dream until 2010. Opting to leave her marketing career to be a stay-at-home mother to her children, she gave herself a time limit of five years to secure an agent and publishing contract. Now she is the author of the popular “Everything” series (Everything We Keep, Everything We Leave Behind, and Everything We Give) and the “No More” trilogy (No More Words, No More Lies, and No More Secrets), as well as three previous stand-alone novels: All the Breaking Waves, Last Summer , and Side Trip.

With Find Me in California, she once again examines the far-reaching ramifications of familial secrets, turmoil, and psychological trauma. She describes the story as “romantic book club fiction,” noting that at its most basic level, the story is a romance. But it unfolds within the context of “themes of found family, chance meetings, and two estranged friends tangled in secrets that span decades.”

Find Me in California delivers everything that readers have come to expect from a Lonsdale novel. It is an absorbing, evenly paced story effectively related from the varying perspectives of her fully developed, intriguing characters. Matt Gatlin is a successful photographer with looming deadlines who has avoided serious relationships. When he was just ten years old, he was sent to live with his grandmother, Elizabeth “Liza” Holloway, following the death of his mother. Not only did Liza withhold affection and warmth from Matt, she actually banished him from her presence whenever they ended up in the same room of her palatial Beverly Hills home. As soon as he turned eighteen, he moved out and never looked back, swearing that he would never “sacrifice his sanity for her peace of mind again” and locking away his memories of the miserable years during which she failed and refused to comfort or console him after he lost his parents. As the story opens, Matt learns that Liza is living in the Rosemont Assisted Living and Memory Care facility. But she is going to be evicted in just five days because she is financially insolvent. The man to whom she delegated power of attorney to handle her affairs appears to have absconded. Matt is her designated alternate representative, but he has no intention of rescuing her.

Ruby Rose Hope (Mama Rose) resides in the same facility, having been afflicted with Alzheimer’s disease for some time. She is lucid at times, and her granddaughter, Julia, cherishes those increasingly fleeting moments because she is experiencing the nearly unbearable grief of watching the grandmother to whom she is completely devoted gradually fade away. She has no social life and her last relationship ended badly due to her commitment to Mama Rose. Five days per week, Julia works at a country club spa before spending another four hours, and up to twelve hours on her days off, volunteering as the in-house massage therapist at Rosemont to defray the costs of Mama Rose’s care. For reasons Julia has never understood, Mama Rose was adamant about spending her final days at Rosemont, and Julia has mortgaged Mama Rose’s home, in which she still resides, to help pay for her grandmother’s care. Now new management is refusing to honor the fee reduction agreement, insisting upon payment in full from every resident. The modified terms will take effect in just five days. She has no idea how she is going to be able to honor her promise to her grandmother that she would not relocate her.

Inexplicably, Liza has been hostile to Mama Rose, who doesn’t seem to recognize her, since she arrived at Rosemont. In a surprising moment of clarity, Mama Rose emphatically implores Julia to find her diary. Overhearing her request, Liza remarks, “All those secrets. She was very good at keeping them.” Julia suddenly realizes that her grandmother and Liza knew each other before they both became residents at Rosemont.

Back at Mama Rose’s house, Julia locates the diary with “Magnolia Blu” embossed on the cover. It was the name of her grandmother’s successful landscaping business. Lonsdale effectively intersperses Mama Rose’s diary entries, dating back to June 1972, into the narrative. She employs them to gradually reveal how Ruby Rose, who then called herself Magnolia Blu, ran away from her Arizona home, eventually making her way to California, and met Liza in a grocery story parking lot on her very first day there.

Meanwhile, Matt’s “damn moral compass” has compelled him to travel to Rosemont and make arrangements for Liza’s care, in part because he learns that Liza’s circumstances are quite dire, but largely because he knows that his late mother would “look past their estrangement to help her mom” now that Liza needs it. Matt meets a captivating and mysterious woman along the road who calls herself Magnolia Blu. He agrees to give her a ride and ends up taking a significant geographical, emotional, and psychological detour that delays his arrival at Rosemont. He abuses alcohol and smokes a lot of marijuana, but whether he’s hallucinating, dreaming, or actually encounters a spirit of some sort is left to readers’ interpretation in what is inarguably the weakest and a wholly unnecessary aspect of the story.

It was Julia who answered the telephone when Matt first called Rosemont and they continue conversing. They don’t like each other much in the beginning, but as they get acquainted, they find themselves drawn to each other, which surprises both of them. They discover that they have a great deal in common. Their grandmothers are both residents of Rosemont and, as Julia learns as she reads Mama Rose’s diary, have a shocking shared history. They both lived with their grandmothers as children, although Mama Rose was the opposite of Liza, doting on and adoring Julia. They were both abandoned by their mothers – in different ways — and bear the resultant psychological scars that have made it impossible for either of them to sustain a romantic relationship . . . so far. Might they be able to heal each other? Or will their commonalities drive them apart?

Lonsdale has crafted another emotionally nuanced, multi-layered story with, in addition to the aforementioned romance, a compelling mystery. This time she examines the fraught journeys of four main characters – Matt, Julia, Liza, and Ruby Rose. Two of them are still imagining and crafting their adult lives, while the other two are nearing the conclusion of their earthly sojourns. Through their experiences, Lonsdale illustrates the destructive power of secrets, resentments, and grudges, as well as the crippling pain of abandonment and the ways in which it destroys self-confidence and prohibits the development of a healthy self-concept. In particular, the rejection of a child by a parent impairs the child’s ability to form healthy attachments to and trust others, as shown by Matt’s pattern of short-term, transient relationships before he meets Julia. She also demonstrates how her characters, upon discovering the others’ histories, are able to understand, empathize, and, ultimately, forgive.

Perhaps the most important theme Lonsdale probes with respect to all four characters is how quickly time elapses, and how important it is to ask questions, avoid making assumptions, and seek resolution and reconciliation . . . before it is too late. “Don’t live your life with regrets,” Liza wisely counsels Julia. “Just live as fully as you can. Take it from one who knows: you can reshoot a scene multiple times, but you cannot do over your life.”

Even though her empathetic and likeable characters sustain disappointment and heartbreak, Lonsdale shows how they address their pasts head-on and learn from history in order to move forward, unburdened by what they have endured. Lonsdale emphasizes how important family is and why it is critical to learn from misguided decisions – both our own and our relatives’. As one character notes, “Make peace with your past or you’ll be lonely for the rest of your life. Nobody wants that.” Despite the serious subjects she addresses, Lonsdale demonstrates her characters’ strength and resilience, and infuses the story with touches of humor and hope. Find Me in California is another engrossing and impactful offering from a skillful and imaginative storyteller.

Excerpt from Find Me in California

Matt glares at the departures screen as a heavy curtain of rain drenches the airport. Lightning flashes and thunder rumbles, shaking the building. Visibility is shit. All flights have been delayed or canceled, including his. Even if he catches a later flight with a connection in Phoenix or Las Vegas, depending on the delay, he won’t get into Burbank until late tonight.

His head pounds furiously at this massive inconvenience.

He searches for flights on his app. He could fly out tomorrow, which would get him to Rosemont after 4:00 p.m., but he loses a day in the process.

Or — he pulls up a map — he could drive. It’s twelve hours to Pasadena. Eleven or less given how he drives. He’d arrive by midnight, crash at a hotel, and be at Rosemont first thing in the morning, giving him and Elizabeth the entire day to coordinate her affairs and — he can’t believe he’s thinking this — talk about his mom. And what’s up with appointing him as her secondary? Barring hiccups, he could be back in Santa Fe by midnight Monday. He’d have all Tuesday to work on the Ford assignment.

That’s a ton of driving and miles he doesn’t need to put on his car. A lot of hours he’d be behind the wheel instead of editing photos. But he’s impatient and sees only one option.

Matt ditches the airport and heads west on I-40. The wipers chase sheets of rain across the windshield, but if his career as a professional automobile photographer and his frenetic love of road racing have taught him anything, it’s how to handle himself behind the wheel in extreme driving conditions. He isn’t stupid, but he rarely drives within the speed limit.

As his tires chew up and spit out the miles, Matt searches the backpack in the passenger seat for the edibles that he would have left behind had he flown. He pops one to quell the headache that’s been throbbing since yesterday. He then makes a call to Lenore to update her on the change of plans. He’ll be at Rosemont first thing tomorrow and wants to meet. But when the call goes to her voicemail, he hangs up and rings Julia instead. He needs to tell someone that he’s on the way.

“Matt,” Julia answers in a flat tone. She doesn’t sound pleased to hear from him. It throws him off.

“Hey, uh, hi. About last night,” is all he can get out before she interrupts.

“Worst phrase ever to start a conversation. But if we’re hashing this out, so far you’ve hung up on me and tried to pick a fight. What’s next? Are you going to dump me before we get together?” Her voice is soaked in sarcasm. He doesn’t know why, but he laughs. “That wasn’t meant to be funny,” she says, dryly. “And now I feel stupid because you’re probably married with kids.”

“Not married and no kids. It’s just . . .” He laughs some more. “This whole situation is absurd.”

“I assume you’re talking about Liza and what an inconvenience your grandmother is to you. Well, you aren’t the only one responsible for an elderly relative. The world doesn’t revolve around you and your dislike for voicemail and filial responsibility.”

“Whoa.” He clues in that there’s more going on than her irritation with him. “Everything okay?”

A long exhale. “It’s been a day.”

He glances at the dash clock. “It’s just after noon.”

“That’s all?” Her laugh is hollow. “Seems later.”

“Want to talk about it? I’m driving. I’m a captive audience.” He’d rather focus on her problems than his own.

“With you?” She laughs. “I’m sort of busy right now.” A reflective pause or a move to get off the phone, he can’t tell. “I hear you’re coming here.”

“Ah, so you already know I’m on my way.” He closes the distance on an eighteen-wheeler, his wipers barely keeping up with the water its rear tires dump on his windshield. He switches lanes to pass.

“Lenore told me this morning. Look — ” She sighs. “Sorry I seem short, but if it helps any, I sort of get what you’re going through. My grandmother’s fees increased. I don’t want to move her, but if I can’t cover her expenses, I’ll have to, even though I promised her I’d never take her out of Rosemont. And why am I telling you this? I don’t know you.”

“I’m thirty, single, and live alone in Santa Fe. I like photography, fast cars, and southwestern tacos. I identify as a man, prefer to date women, and failed the only marathon I ever ran. Strained my Achilles. I love the water, but you’ll never catch me in a boat or swimming in the open ocean.”

Why, for the love of God, did he tell her that?

“How’s that for starters?” he says, shaking his head at himself.

“Is that your Tinder bio?”

“I don’t do dating apps,” he says, balking. Relationships should evolve organically. He also prefers solitude to company, and singlehood to coupledom. He’s not about to unload his baggage on anyone, let alone a woman looking for love. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I don’t know you either.” Matt chews on his bottom lip, waiting for her to share something. Keeps him from dwelling on who’s waiting for him at his destination. “Not much of a talker?” he asks when she doesn’t offer up anything.

“What are we doing? What is this?” she asks.

He has no clue. What he does know is she’s kind of fun to talk with. He picks a safer subject. “Your grandmother, she’s at Rosemont?”

“Yes, three years now. I volunteer here as a massage therapist to keep the cost down. They can’t honor that anymore, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

“Are you close with her?”

“About as close as I can be with someone who doesn’t remember who I am. She has Alzheimer’s.” She doesn’t disguise her love for her grandmother, or her pain. Matt only wishes Elizabeth had forgotten about him.

“That must be tough. I’m assuming you guys were close?”

“You’ve no idea. She raised me. Tell you what, Matt: You seem to regret how our last two conversations went. I’m going to do you a solid out of the goodness of my heart.”

“Is that sarcasm?”

“Take it as you see fit. Lenore gave me brochures to a few assisted living facilities. I guess I should make some calls, plan for a worst-case scenario. If you’re interested, I can pass along what I find out. Save you some time when you get here.”

“If I’m interested? That—wow. That would be huge, thank you. One problem—” He starts to explain he won’t be able to meet until tomorrow morning since he’s driving instead of flying, but a wave of dizziness tilts the horizon sideways. He eases his foot off the accelerator and slows the Porsche to the speed limit. He blinks hard to regain focus. “Whoa, that was weird.”

“What was?”

“Nothing.” He frowns. Whatever just happened passed. “Julia, the weather here is crap. My flight was canceled. I’m driving instead.”

“From New Mexico?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a long drive.”

“I don’t expect to be in Pasadena until midnight. Can we meet tomorrow? Can I buy you lunch, or breakfast? I like coffee. You like coffee?” He realizes as he asks that he doesn’t know what she looks like. He hasn’t even tried to picture her or google her. She could be decades older than him, or much younger. And why is his brain taking him on this trip? Why does he care?

“I like coffee. And I’m here all day tomorrow. I’ll make some calls today. Not sure I can set up tours. Tomorrow’s Sunday. But I’ll try.”

Like hell he’s going to spend time touring facilities. He’ll go with whichever one Julia recommends. Buoyant with gratitude, he grins. She just saved him time and hassle.

“Thank you, Julia. I really appreciate it.”

The rain lets up to a drizzle. He guns the car to make up time.

“Can I share something with you? Do you have a moment?” she asks.

“Shoot.” He’s driving across three states. He’s got nothing but time.

“Did you know our grandmothers knew each other when they were younger? They met in seventy-two, and they were friends.”

“Really?” He’s about to ask why anyone would want to be friends with Elizabeth when his vision fuzzes along the edges. He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them. The sky is now utterly blue, not a cloud in sight. As if the storm evaporated in a snap. Poof. Gone. Everything is dry: the road, the dirt, his car. He leans over the steering wheel and peers upward. It’s so bright outside it burns. “Weird,” he murmurs to himself.

“Right? Small world. Liza’s been here for a year and she never mentioned anything. I mean, I suspected, and there were signs when I think back on it, but it wasn’t until I read Mama Rose’s diary—oh, gosh. You didn’t hear that from me. Don’t mention it to either of them when you get here. I feel guilty enough for reading it.”

“No worries. I’ve got you covered.” He takes a right off the freeway and coasts a quarter mile until the shoulder’s wide enough to pull off. He eases to a stop.

“I plan to tell her. I have so many questions for her and Liza. But I worry Mama Rose won’t remember she asked for the diary. And Liza, I doubt she’ll even talk to me. She’s never been forthcoming about anything unless she’s pressed. It took forever to get her to admit you’re her grandson when I asked her. Maybe that’s why I’m telling you. I’m worried they won’t talk about it, and I need to discuss it.”

“Then tell me everything. Where did they meet?” He puts the car in Park, not particularly interested in anything that has to do with Elizabeth. He just wants to keep Julia talking. Resting his forehead on the steering wheel, he breathes through the rising nausea. What’s going on with him?

Keep talking, he silently begs. He doesn’t know what’s come over him, but her voice is calming. He decides he’ll wait here and let this run its course and then get back on the road.

“Hollywood, in a Ralph’s parking lot of all places.” She tells him an outlandish story about a young Elizabeth inviting Ruby Rose, a fresh-off-the-commune early twentysomething-or-other, to her home after a chance meeting over a torn bag of groceries.

All the while, Matt is tripping. She’s talking about his grandmother, but the woman Julia is describing doesn’t match up with the woman he knew. That woman hadn’t been generous or inviting, not with him.

Julia’s voice lulls him into a near trance. He recalls she mentioned she’s a massage therapist, and his mind drifts in an inappropriate direction. He pictures Julia’s hands, and then he pictures her hands on him, as appeasing as her voice. They release taut muscles, harden other parts. A delicious ache forms below his belt, and a groan builds in his throat.

Then he remembers where he is and who he’s speaking with. A practical stranger.

Get a hold of yourself, man.

He lifts his head and startles at the sight before him. There’s a woman outside sitting on a large hard-sided suitcase, the old kind without wheels. A smaller case covered in peeling bumper stickers rests at her feet. Her sheer paisley blouse flutters on her arms. Her face is tilted toward the sun, soaking in warmth. Long wheat tresses of the silkiest hair he’s seen reach her waist.

Who is she and where did she come from?

Aside from the highway, the area is desolate, nothing but barren land for miles.

Slowly, she turns her head and looks at him. Then she smiles. Holy —

Matt sucks in a sharp breath. She’s gorgeous. Like drop dead. Flowing hair and pixie eyes. All the feels hit him with force, and his chest hollows on a powerful exhale.

Gaze locked with his, she approaches the car. Through her shirt, Matt can make out her dark areolae. Her tongue glides along her bottom lip suggestively and sends an arrow of heat to his groin.

He tracks her to the passenger side. He feels compelled to open the door, invite her along for a ride. Uncover her secrets. Undress her.

What is his problem?

The logical side of him tells him she’s an illusion. She’s not real.

But his curious side? The photographer who wants to lay bare his subjects? That guy opens the window.

She folds her arms on the door and offers a ravishing smile, revealing a small gap between her two front teeth. Through the opening of her shirt, he sees the sharp peaks of her breasts, the flat plane of her stomach.

“Hey, stranger.” Her voice is buttery soft.

“Hey.” He frowns. “Do I know you?” He feels like he does.

Skin puckers between her brows. “You don’t remember me?”

He wants to say yes. He has a feeling this isn’t the first time he’s seen her. He knows this woman. But the origins of his feelings are elusive when he attempts to grasp them.

“I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name.”

She clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth. Then her smile turns full wattage.

“Baby, it’s Magnolia Blu.”