An achingly romantic novel about chance meetings, buried secrets, and the multiple facets of love and family bonds by Wall Street Journal bestselling author Kerry Lonsdale.
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Kerry Lonsdale’s Find Me In California, which is out June 11th 2024.
Raised by her fiercely passionate and free-spirited grandmother, Julia Hope has never gone without love. But as she tends to her only living relative during her final days, Julia struggles to overcome her fear of being alone.
A thousand miles away, Matt Gatlin has managed to avoid the coldhearted grandmother with whom he once lived. But after twelve years of her being blessedly out of sight, she needs him. His resentments still raw, Matt packs up his car and reluctantly heads to California to confront a bitter past he thought was long gone.
Over the next six days, Julia’s and Matt’s fates intersect. An old diary exposes the tragedy of a long-lost love. A history of secrets in two families comes to light. And on a lonely back road, Matt picks up an unusual yet captivating hitchhiker with a secret of her own.
For Julia and Matt, something heartbreaking and heartwarming, mysterious and beautiful, will touch their lives—with neither of them realizing that maybe they’re destined for each other.
Her stomach knotted like the tangled wad of bras she removed from the washer this morning, Julia tables her worries and knocks on her grandmother’s door in Rosemont’s memory care unit. She can’t discuss finances and brainstorm options with Mama Rose. Rarely does her grandmother remember who Julia is, and several months back, when Julia mentioned money to her, Mama Rose believed she still had a nest egg. She can’t comprehend it’s already been exhausted. Julia’s on her own with this dilemma.
“It’s open.” Her grandmother’s voice comes through the thick door. A soft chime sends a signal to the caretaker’s station when Julia enters. She quickly punches in a code on the keypad to silence the alarm and stops short with a look of horror when she sees her grandmother. Mama Rose stands amid a pile of blankets, her wheelchair on the other side of the room. She clutches a thick green-and-pink knit throw.
Panic explodes in Julia’s chest as a likely scene plays out in her head. Mama Rose will forget why she’s doing whatever she’s doing. She’ll forget about the blankets on the floor. Her foot will tangle in the wool and fleece. She’ll topple over and break her hip. Again. She’s been using the wheelchair because of a previous fall.
Dropping her shoulder bag on the table, Julia rushes to her grandmother’s side and gently grasps Mama Rose’s shoulders so she doesn’t lose her balance as she folds a blanket. Her grandmother’s face lights up at the sight of her.
“Have you come to get me out of this dreadful place?”
“You love it here,” Julia says. “You told me you wanted to stay.” It’s far more pleasant than other facilities.
“I said no such thing.”
Julia hums under her breath and resists getting sucked into this conversation. It’s old and repetitive, a symptom of Mama Rose’s condition. “What are you doing here?” She gestures to the pile on the floor.
“I’m . . .” Mama Rose smiles apologetically. “Forgive me. I can’t remember your name.”
Julia deflates. She’ll never get used to Mama Rose not recognizing her. “Call me Jules.”
Mama Rose pats her arm. “Beautiful name. My granddaughter’s named Julia. Have you met her?”
“I haven’t, but I’m sure she’s lovely. May I help?” She breathes through the hollowness in her chest. Reassured that Mama Rose is steady on her feet, she picks up the other end of the blanket and helps her fold. “Were you looking for something?” Her grandmother is always searching for objects from her past, be they keys or seeds or mail.
“A book.”
“In your blanket chest?” Julia sweeps the blankets off the floor to get them out of the way and drops the pile on the bed to fold.
“I found a toothbrush in there, so it’s possible.” Mama Rose puts the folded green-and-pink knit blanket into the chest and shuffles to the table.
“Tell me about the book. Is it one of those?” Julia asks of the books shelved above the dresser. Paperback mysteries and romances, their covers and spines creased from age and love. Books her grandmother read repeatedly before her eyesight deteriorated and Julia introduced her to audiobooks.
“No, none of those.” Mama Rose digs through Julia’s shoulder bag.
“Now what are you looking for?”
“These.” Mama Rose jingles Julia’s keys like she won a round in The Price Is Right. “We’re bugging out.”
“No, we’re not.”
“I’m driving.” Mama Rose shuffles to the door, or what she thinks is the door. The entire wall has been painted to look like a scene out of Monet’s garden, camouflaging the door. “I always get turned around. Where’s the door, love? You can’t keep me here forever. I’ll call the police. Soon as I get out of this dreadful place.” She runs her hands along the wall in search of the door, and the keys drop on the floor. “Oops.”
Julia is at her side and snags the keys before her grandmother has the chance.
“How about we go for a walk instead,” Julia says and gently takes her arm.
“I don’t want to go for a walk.” Mama Rose yanks her elbow away. “I want to go home.”
Moisture bites Julia’s eyes. “But you are home. You love it here. This is where you want to be.”
“Stop telling me what I want. Lies! All of them.” Mama Rose’s face flushes with her ire, and she wags a finger in Julia’s face. “I see right through them.”
“How about we see the garden instead? You always enjoy the gardens this time of evening.”
Mama Rose’s lips pinch. She rubs her thumbs across her fingertips over and over, her gaze darting around the room. “Yes, yes, you’re right. We’ll go see the garden. Maybe the book will be here after.”
“A wonderful plan.” Julia despises the relief that floods her forced calm. She’s curious about the book and wouldn’t mind helping her grandmother search for it later, but a visit to view Rosemont’s gardens is the distraction Mama Rose needs. Some days, Julia can’t derail her grandmother from her quest for some random object or her determination to break out of Rosemont until her frustration violently escalates and her caretaker has to medicate her.
“Hurry. The sun is setting.” Mama Rose pads to the wheelchair with Julia at her side.
Julia drapes a blanket over her grandmother’s legs once she’s settled in the chair and wheels her to the common room the memory care unit shares with the assisted living wing that overlooks lush gardens of roses, geraniums, and fuchsias in full bloom. The sun has all but set, blanketing the flowers in shadow. But it’s the scents of violets and begonias her grandmother loves.
She parks Mama Rose before an open window beside a rocking chair already occupied by Liza Holloway. The sight of the willowy woman reminds Julia of Matt’s call and that she needs to update Lenore before she leaves for the evening.
Upon noticing Mama Rose, Liza lifts her chin so she’s looking down her nose at Julia’s grandmother. “I don’t want company. Put her elsewhere.”
“The common room is for everyone, Mrs. Holloway.” Julia winks at the surly woman.
“Doesn’t it smell lovely?” Mama Rose asks.
“Do be quiet. I’m trying to read.” Liza flips a page in her hardback with enough flair to prove her point.
Julia pulls up a chair on the other side of Mama Rose. “We’re here for the sunset; then we’ll go.”
“Have I told you about the garden I tended in Beverly Hills one year? The roses were magnificent. I’d just moved to California and had never seen a multicolored floribunda until then.”
“Not this story again.” Liza snaps her book closed. “Can’t you talk about something else? And what’s with that you’ve got on? Weren’t you wearing that yesterday?”
Mama Rose glances down at her maroon tracksuit with a confused smile. Julia bought her several sets in various colors when her grandmother insisted on wearing them daily. Maroon is her favorite, and she has two in that color. Julia doesn’t think it’s the same set she wore yesterday until she notices something crusted on Mama Rose’s chest, a dribble of food alongside the zipper. It looks like yesterday’s corn chowder.
Julia touches her grandmother’s knee. “I like this story.” She’ll listen to anything Mama Rose says, even if it’s the same tired story she repeats each time she gazes at the garden. Julia knows that the day will soon come when she aches to hear her grandmother’s voice.
Upon Julia’s smile of reassurance, Mama Rose prattles on about every plant varietal she recalls from Rosemont’s garden and compares them to that mysterious Beverly Hills garden. It always strikes Julia how much her grandmother remembers about her earlier life and her present surroundings, yet she can’t recall who Julia is to her.
Julia blinks away a flash of hopelessness when Liza barks, “Would you shut up?”
Mama Rose turns to the woman beside her, startled to see her sitting there, so consumed she’d been with her storytelling. She never seems to recognize Liza, which gives Julia a perverse sense of pleasure. She isn’t the only one her grandmother can’t place.
When the sun has set, casting the garden’s far corners into darkness where the landscape lights don’t reach, Julia rises to wheel Mama Rose back to her room. Even she has her limits when it comes to spending time around Liza. But before they depart, Mama Rose’s caretaker Trevor appears. He grasps the wheelchair handles. “Time for your meds, Ruby Rose.” Soft, tender eyes fall on Julia. “Get yourself home, Jules. I’ve got her.”
Julia suddenly feels the full weight of her weariness. She’s been up since four thirty this morning. She touches Trevor’s arm. “Thanks.”
“Got plans for tonight?” He unlocks the wheel brakes.
Had her ex-boyfriend Nolan not run scared a few years back, she might have been meeting him for dinner. She certainly wouldn’t be as paranoid about running out of money if he’d stuck around. He paid half the monthly mortgage when he lived with her.
“Does a hot date with my laptop count?” She intends to spend the evening trying to mold their minuscule savings into a workable solution. An impossible feat that only magic could accomplish, a talent—aside from money—she sorely lacks. Still, she needs to do something, and staring at their account balances may coax forth an answer.
Trevor offers her a sad little smile. They both know she works herself to the bone and has a nonexistent life outside of work, volunteering, and spending time with Mama Rose.
“At the very least, pour yourself a glass of wine.” Trevor swings Mama Rose’s chair around.
“I will.”
Mama Rose looks up behind her. “There you are, Trevor. Looking like the sexy hunk you are.”
Despite how many times he’s heard it, Trevor still blushes. “Now, now, Ruby Rose. You know I’m already taken.” He grins at Julia, and she secretly hates him. Mama Rose always recognizes him.
“Well, you’re still good looking. Just not as handsome as my Matty.”
Beside her, Liza hisses, “He’s not yours.”
“Testy, testy.” Julia clucks her tongue, sharing a look with Trevor. From the day she moved in, Liza’s always had something against Julia’s grandmother. Julia’s never been able to define what, and Liza wasn’t forthcoming the single time she had the courage to press her on it.
Trevor starts to leave with Mama Rose when she snatches Julia’s wrist with startling strength. With a soft gasp, Julia lifts her gaze from her grandmother’s veiny hand to her faded blue-gray eyes. They shine with focus.
“Find my diary, Jules. The light-blue one with gold embossed lettering. You know the one. I need it.”
A sharp inhale from Liza. Julia spares the woman a glance. She has no idea what her grandmother is talking about. She’s never seen such a diary in her possession. She didn’t know her grandmother had kept diaries. But Liza’s complexion has gone ghostly white.
Trevor wheels Mama Rose from the room, and Liza stands with the assistance of a cane, collecting her book and readers. “All those secrets.”
“Excuse me?” Julia’s head swerves toward the woman.
“She was very good at keeping them.”
Shock immobilizes Julia. Did Liza just admit she’d known Mama Rose from before?
“What do you mean by that?” Julia asks. “What secrets?”
“That’s not a question for me.”
But Julia can’t ask her grandmother. Mama Rose has likely already forgotten she wants the diary.
“What do you know of her diary?” Julia asks. Now she must find it.
Liza’s thin, faint brows bob once before she leaves the room, stunningly quick for her age.
Text Copyright © 2024 by Kerry Lonsdale Inc. All rights reserved. Find Me in California is published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle.
