Page 59 of The Delivery

“Mr. Evans wanted to thank you for the care you showed Sydney in the aftermath of the accident.”

“Of course,” Rebecca says.

“He wanted to send something over as a token of his appreciation.”

“What might that be?”

“A new technology, still in beta phase. It’s not yet to market, but because Mr. Evans invested heavily in the Series B, he has a plus-one he’d like to offer to you.”

Rebecca laughs.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Higgins. Is something amusing?”

“No,” she says. “Please tell Mr. Evans he can save his plus-one for someone else.” In the rearview she watches Mr. Elephant pirouette on Maddy’s knee. “We’re fine just as we are.”

Chapter 44

They reach Zuma in Malibu, park in the overpriced lot, and hold hands across the stretch of cool sand. Maddy has no texture issues with sand, actually loves the feel of it between her bare toes.

As she splashes at the water edge and digs for sand crabs, Rebecca stares out across the endless ocean. Each swell seems like the earth taking a breath.

Since the sky has yet to shake off last night’s storm, the beach is relatively empty, just a few solo walkers, an old lady with a labradoodle, and a clutch of not-to-be-deterred surfers floating in place, waiting on a good break.

Rebecca shoves her hands into the pockets of her hooded sweatshirt, makes a fist around the Porsche key from the dryer.

While Maddy is distracted, scaring seagulls into flight, Rebecca pulls the key free and hurls it into the ocean, fob and all.

It plunks into the water, the slate-gray surface closes around it, and it is as if the key never existed.

Rebecca shuts her eyes, tilts her face to the sun, and breathes the ocean air. All she can hear is the rush of the sea, the cawing of the gulls, and the sound of her daughter’s laughter.

She never imagined that simple gratitude could feel so emancipating.

Chapter 45

Delivery Joe is back on their porch. Same hipster beard, same gauge earrings, different knit cap. The prism rests atop the futuristic dolly at his side, and the sleek, unmarked van waits at the curb.

Both front doors have been laid open to accommodate the prism’s removal, and Mark hastens to close them now.

“Didn’t work out, huh?” Delivery Joe says.

“Nope,” Mark says. “Wasn’t for us.”

Maddy shuffles through the foyer, hugging not-Bao-Bao to her stomach, his front legs sticking straight out above her arms.

Delivery Joe produces an electronic pad from somewhere on the dolly and holds it out in his gloved hands. “Confirming the return.” His breath carries a whiff of nicotine gum.

Rebecca takes the stylus and signs her name.

With a whir, the dolly revs into motion, its wheels rotating like tank tread to convey its load down the stairs. Mark and Rebecca stand in the doorway and watch it roll across the gouged-up lawn. A tree crew was here all day, chainsawing the wreckage of the tree and hauling it off.

The remaining pine looks strong yet vulnerable, fresh pulp exposed at the split.

Delivery Joe lays open the van’s rear door, and then the dolly elevates on robot-dog legs, slides the prism inside, and climbs in around it, the effect like a spider disappearing into a tiny hole.

Mark and Rebecca stay until the van pulls out, until it drives up the street, until it turns the corner and disappears.

Chapter 46