The Escape Diaries (41 page)

The carhop came,
checked out Labeck, took our order, checked out Labeck again, and skated off with
a lot more hip sway than was strictly necessary. I borrowed Labeck’s phone and
called my mother to give her the good news about my release.

“Was she happy?”
Labeck asked when I hung up.

“Delirious. She
wants me to come down to Florida and visit. You’re invited, too.”

“Florida sounds
good. Let’s go in January and stay until July.”

“Pretty wimpy for
a guy who grew up on the frozen tundra.”

Labeck took my
hand, turning it palm side up and studying my nearly healed Girdle of Venus.
“The boys are throwing you a welcome home bash at my place later today.”

“Eddie and Rico?”

“And Muffin. And
Magenta. Be prepared—Magenta is wearing a butterfly costume in honor of
the fact that you’ve emerged.”

“I can hardly
wait.”

“It’s supposed to
be a surprise party. So act surprised.”

“Hey, I’ve acted
my way out of a lot worse situations than a surprise party.”

He leaned across
the seat and brushed his lips across mine. “I’ve got a couple of other
surprises planned for you.”
 

“You didn’t have
a sex change operation, did you?”

He smiled lazily.
“You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

An image of
Bonaparte Labeck, wearing only a cummerbund, flashed through my mind and I
suddenly found it hard to breathe. I was holding hands with a hot guy who’d
attracted the drooling attention of every mini-skirted carhop on the lot. And I
was
free
!
It was just starting to sink in. No one was chasing me,
trying to slice off my fingers, or forcing me to pick tomatoes. I was going to
a party, and even though it would feature an oversized female impersonator in a
butterfly costume, it was still a party. There might be balloons and cake.

Life was sweet.

The carhop
brought our order then, and life got even sweeter.

She set two hot
fudge sundaes in tulip-shaped glasses on the tray that attached to the window.
Labeck handed me mine. I held it up, examining it with loving eyes. Truly a
thing of beauty. Double scoops of Kopps to-die-for custard smothered in hot,
rich fudge sauce, topped with whipped cream and a cherry.

I took my first
spoonful and moaned in ecstasy. It was even better than I remembered.

“Mazie,” Labeck
choked out. “If you keep making those sounds, I’m going to be so turned on we
won’t even make it back to my place.”

I thought of the
bed waiting back in his apartment.

It was too soon
to be hopping in the sack with someone. It was too soon to be falling in love,
no matter how brave or smart the guy was, no matter that he’d risked his own
freedom to help me gain mine, no matter how great he looked wearing only a
cummerbund.

But life is
uncertain. I’d learned that over the past four years.

And when life
gives you hot fudge sundaes, always eat the cherry first.

About the Author

Juliet
Rosetti
grew up on a Wisconsin farm with four brothers and a dozen cats.
She has managed a bookstore, taught school, and coached an Australian cricket
team. Currently she lives in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, with her husband and son, eats
way too much dark chocolate, and is plotting new escapades for Mazie Maguire.