Page 71 of The Escape Plan

Will she be sad to leave this apartment? Or will she welcome the change?

Crossing the room, I take a tentative seat on the couch, sliding over a stuffed capybara who’s wearing a backpack in the shape of a goose. I set the stuffed animal in my lap and retrieve my phone from my jeans pocket.

One new email from Rory Cassidy, the principal of the school where I work.

It’s an email blast to all teaching staff. I can only assume it’s filled with housekeeping items for the upcoming school year.

I ignore it, for now. Even though today brought in colder weather, it’s still summer. I’m not officially on the clock again for another two weeks.

I’m catching up on Mam’s recap of her recent introduction to scuba diving in Greece (which apparently went very poorly because Paul got chased by a rather aggressive little octopus and is now scarred for life) in the family group chat when the bedroom door opens and Keeley comes out. “Sorry about that. Ready now!”

She’s dressed in a short black skirt that wraps around at the front, and a scoop neck t-shirt that’s the same color as her eyes. On her feet are the ever-present black Converse.

Her hair is long and loose and shiny, her cheeks flushed and pink.

“You look…” Still a bit dumbstruck, I fumble for an appropriate word. “Wow.”

Nice one, Beckett. Real smooth.

For some reason, she smiles at my idiocy. “Well, you came in here looking so fancy, I had to match your energy.”

“My jacket was getting lonely, hanging out in my suitcase by itself,” I say with a chuckle. “Today’s the first day that it’s cool enough to actually wear the thing.”

For the first time since getting to Serendipity Springs, I woke up this morning to overcast skies full of gray, swollen-bellied clouds. A chilly breeze has filled the air all day.

“Nothing worse than a lonely jacket,” she confirms solemnly, reaching for a deep blue sweatshirt that’s draped over the back of the couch. She shrugs it on, then spots the stuffed animal in my lap. “Or a lonely capybara, so thank you for getting acquainted with him while I was getting dressed.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” I say as I set the little fella down on the couch and stand up. “He’s cute.”

“His name’s Bert. Gramps won him for me at the fair a few years ago.”

“There’s a fair you haven’t told me about?” I demand playfully.

“Every August.” Keeley’s eyes sparkle. “End of summer kind of thing. Rides and cotton candy and funnel cake and games that are rigged so you can’t win unless you get super lucky.”

“Well. Now I know where I’ll be at the end of the summer.”

“Oh, yes, we should totally go!” she says, and I love her use ofwe. “You can’t leave the USA without trying a deep-fried Oreo, now, can you?”

“I’d never be able to forgive myself,” I say gravely, and I’m rewarded with a laugh.

“It’s a date,” she says. “And speaking of dates, we should get going.”

I pick up my plant and my wine. “I thought the first portion of the evening wasn’t a date given the fact that your family members will be present.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” A wicked little smile dances over her face. “But then, I saw you in that jacket, carrying that plant, and I changed my mind.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Beckett

Ezra and Maelive in a renovated Victorian a few neighborhoods over from The Serendipity. It’s got high, sloped ceilings, dormer windows and a wood burning fireplace, the mantel of which now hosts my gifted plant.

I love the place on sight.

I also love Everett the second I lay eyes on him. It’s the first time I’ve met Ezra and Mae’s three-year-old, and his energy is infectious, his cheeky smile adorable. Even after sixty-five rounds playing on his plastic Fisher Price bongo drums with him while crouched uncomfortably on the hardwood floor.

Keeley is out back with Ezra, assisting him with plating the meat, which we’re going to eat inside now due to the cooler weather. I offered to help, of course, but she said she’d do it so I could continue playing with Everett, who apparently digs me as much as I dig him.

---