Page 17 of Escape Girl
I didn’t evenwait for Bobby to ring the door. As soon as I saw him climb out of the Jeep, I ran downstairs and opened the front door without a moment’s hesitation. Apparently, I was not going to play hard to get.
“Hi!” He beamed at me as I appeared in the street. It was annoying how good he looked first thing in the morning. We’d only seen each other in Selma’s carefully lit rooms, but now, in broad daylight, he looked even better, like he’d just mountain-climbed out of a Patagonia catalog.
“You look wonderful.” He almost looked surprised at the words as they burst through his lips.
“Thanks.” I hoped I wasn’t blushing. I knew exactly what I looked like, and it did not match the reverent tone in his voice. I gestured to his Jeep. “Where are we going?”
He opened the passenger door for me. “I’m taking you on a tour of my favorite places. But they’re all the same kind of place.”
When he got in the driver’s seat and started the car, I started guessing. “Favorite…diners? Dog parks? Tattoo parlors?”
He grinned. “Glad you’re thinking ahead to our next three dates already.” He started the car. “But today, we’re starting with my favorite libraries.”
We drove to Potrero Hill, a hilly area of the city with bay and skyline views. I hadn’t been over here in ages, and I’d certainly never gone for the library. “The Potrero Hill Branch was the twenty-second branch in the San Francisco Public Library system,” Bobby lectured like a tour guide as we parked.
“Why are we starting here?” I asked, already completely giddy with the day stretched out in front of us.
He pointed to a small coffee shop across the street. “Because we’re going to go get beverages and sneak them inside up to the second floor. There are gorgeous views of the city up there.” He smiled at me, and this time I saw a twinge of nerves. “I thought starting the day with caffeine and scenery might be just the thing.”
Warmth spread in my chest. He’d reallyplannedthis. He was as excited to be with me as I was with him. How…intoxicating. “Perfect.”
It really, really was. We sipped hot drinks overlooking our gorgeous city, and Bobby told me more about the library. This particular branch had children’s Spanish, Chinese, and Italian collections. Even cooler, it had a seed library. Visitors could take seeds to plant and later bring back the best seeds from what they had grown.
The librarians all knew Bobby. They waved, said hello, gave pointed glances at the rule-breaking coffee cups in our hands but didn’t say anything. “How often do you come here?” I asked.
“Once a week, usually.” He reached down a hand to pull me up. “Ready for the next?”
It was a quick drive to SOMA, or South of Market, which is a part of town that encompasses Mission Bay and South Beach. It’s filled with warehouses and dotted with upscale dining options and nightclubs. “Now this library is only open on Wednesdays, so we’re lucky today.”
The Prelinger Library wasn’t part of the San Francisco Public Library system. It was an independent research center, primarily a collection of nineteenth- and twentieth-century ephemera, periodicals, maps, and books. Much of the collection was image-rich and in the public domain. We spent some time poking at the enormous collection of maps, the part of this library Bobby particularly admired. “What’s your favorite place in the world?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet,” I said—and immediately felt stupid.
But Bobby just looked charmed. “I like that answer. It implies that there’s so much yet to be seen or discovered before making a decision.”
“Do you have a favorite place in the world?” He seemed like one of those people who was absolutely at home wherever they were.
“Not exactly,” he said thoughtfully. “More like, I have favorite moments in time that are associated with different places.”
“Give me some examples,” I demanded.
He nodded, brow furrowed. “The town of Sonoma is one of my favorite places because I have so many memories of summer fireworks there with my family when I was a kid. An amazing restaurant in the town of Kinsale, Ireland, where I fell into lifelong love with seafood. A certain dive bar in New York because my college friends and I went there almost every day for four years to play darts. That kind of thing. I love places because they’re all wrapped up in memories.”
I appreciated his self-awareness and knew exactly what he meant. “I used to love the dressing room at Nordstrom,” I said quietly, shocking myself. “Because that’s where my mom would take me for special growing-up bonding stuff. Like when I first got a bra. Or when I needed a prom dress. My first suit for law school interviews.”
I shut up quickly, hearing my voice grow hoarse. I couldn’t even go near Nordstrom now.
Bobby looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but when he saw my tight lips, he paused. “One more stop before lunch?”
“Ah! I’ve actually been here before!” I called out as our next destination came into view. The Bernal Heights Branch of the San Francisco Public Library had a distinctive colorful mural on its outside that always made me smile. I’d donated money to its impressive array of community programs.
“It’s a favorite within my favorites,” Bobby said. Once again, the librarians inside all waved and said hello to him by name as we browsed the bulletin board advertising monthly Lego nights, origami club meetings, poetry workshops, and Teen Fridays.
“Do you come to this one every week too?” I asked.
He glanced over and nodded, looking mildly embarrassed. “I go to all of them once a week.”
My mouth dropped open. “You do?”
