The next day we got to sleep in a bit longer since there were only a couple hours left to get to River Glen. No point getting there at the crack of dawn when the housing office wouldn’t even be open.

Beckett seemed more relaxed in the morning as we packed up the car for the last time. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he looked happy, but he seemed to be in a better place than he’d been when we arrived at the hotel.

We got on the road mid-morning, and we were in River Glen by lunch time.

The town was small, and so unbelievably quaint I was pretty sure we’d run over Norman Rockwell if we weren’t careful. There was a small downtown area with all one- and two-story buildings. Restaurants, cafes, and local shops lined the main street, and pedestrians milled along the sidewalks in the bright midday sun. There were dogs on leashes wagging their tails and giving doggy grins to everyone who passed. There were moms pushing strollers and business people out for their lunch breaks.

“Is this place for real?” I asked as we drove by a small park where kids swarmed the playground equipment and moms sat on benches with iced coffees in hand.

“Seriously. Do you think Andy Griffith is the sheriff here?”

“I’m positive he is.”

Beckett drove slowly to let the foot traffic get safely from one place to another. I caught a few people looking at his car with mild interest. The California license plate was probably an unusual sight in this town.

After we passed out of the business district, we drove through a few residential areas on our way to the campus. The houses were as cute as downtown. Some of them had actual white picket fences.

I was seriously starting to wonder when the camera crew would appear. This was clearly a movie set.

The large, low stone wall with the brass letters spelling MIDDLESEX announced that we’d reached the edge of campus. We passed a few administrative and maintenance buildings before we hit the high wall that surrounded the main academic buildings. There was a large metal archway over the entrance to the tree-shaded main path through the green space. It was so god damn perfect, I asked Beckett to pull over so I could take a picture.

I sent it to Ash with the caption, Have arrived in Pleasantville.

Beckett followed the GPS to the Housing Office, which was only another mile away, and parked in a spot designated 15 minute parking only. The RAV4’s engine ticked in the silence after he turned it off.

“We’re here,” he said.

“Do you think they’ll issue us 2.3 children and a golden retriever with our apartment?”

“It’s entirely possible.”

We climbed the short flight of stone steps to the entrance and went inside. There was a large wooden window on the wall opposite the doors with an older woman seated behind the counter there. A bulletin board hung beside the window, covered in notices and official posters. A wire basket sat on the counter with a sign labeled “Deposits.”

The woman looked up with a pleasant smile. She was fair-skinned and gray-haired, with a welcoming face. The complete opposite of the woman at the chapel back in Vegas.

“Can I help you?”

Beckett and I approached. My heart began to pound with nervousness. This was it. The moment of truth.

“I’m Beckett Anderson,” he said. “I’m here to pick up my keys?”

“Let me take a look.” She had him spell his name and confirm his birth date while she clacked away at a computer on the counter. A few mouse clicks later, she said, “Okay I see you’re assigned to apartment 203 in Overlook. There’s a note here that says we’re supposed to confirm your marital status. Would you happen to have that with you?”

“Yes,” I said, holding out the temporary copy of our marriage license from Nevada. There would be an official one later, but the chapel staff had assured us this would do the same job until then. My hand shook slightly, making the page rattle, but she didn’t seem to notice.

The woman took our form, looking it over carefully. “Oh, I see you’re newlyweds!”

“Yeah,” Beckett said.

“Congratulations!” She looked up at us with starry eyes. “Well, come on, let’s see the ring!”

Just like that my stomach was in my shoes. But Beckett was ready. “We’re getting it sized. It didn’t fit quite right.”

She nodded, looking sympathetic. “Oh, too bad.”

My jaw quivered but I forced a smile that I hoped didn’t look completely terrified. Beckett swung his arm around my shoulders, giving me a squeeze. “I guess driving across the country isn’t the usual honeymoon, but it worked for Emmy and me.”

“How wonderful!” she gushed.

“Nebraska was really flat.” What the actual fuck? My eyes went wide in surprise. Those were my first words to this woman? What was wrong with me?

Beckett just gave me another squeeze. “Yeah, it was.”

The woman laughed, delighted. “Well, we’re sure happy you made it. Welcome to Middlesex. Let me get you your keys.” She got up from her seat and went to a large locked cabinet across the office.

“Nebraska was really flat?” Beckett whispered softly.

“I don’t know!” I hissed.

He chuckled. “That was perfect.”

“Shut up.” I shrugged my shoulders until his hand dropped away.

The woman returned with a set of keys and an envelope. She led us through a bit of administrative work, signing forms and showing our drivers’ licenses to prove we were who we said we were. Then she handed over our lease agreement, a barely readable campus map with the route to our apartment highlighted, and gave us the keys.

“All right, you two,” she said, “go get yourselves settled at Overlook. You’re going to love it there. Lots of young couples just like you. And if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call or stop by. I’m always here.”

We went on our way, neither of us speaking until we were safely back in Beckett's car.

“Holy crap.” I sagged in my seat. “She bought it.”

“Man I was so nervous.” Beckett confessed. Then he shot me a look. “Not, like ‘Nebraska was really flat’ nervous, but you know.”

“Shut up!” I laughed and shoved him half-heartedly. “I can’t believe you had an answer for the ring thing.”

“I thought of it while we were in Nebraska.” He paused. “Which was really flat, incidentally.”

“Oh my god, I hate you.” I covered my face with both hands. “I should un-marry you.”

“Not yet,” he said.

“Just drive, okay?”

He laughed and pulled onto the street.

Overlook wasn’t far away or hard to find, and soon enough we were carrying our first load of stuff up from the car. Beckett unlocked the door and shoved it open.

Inside, the tiny apartment was utterly bare. Dark, industrial-strength carpet and dark woodwork. There was a kitchen with white counters in a U shape, leaving a small peninsula separating the living area from the food prep area. Through a door there was a small, empty square room featuring only a closet. Another door led to the small but functional bathroom, completely tiled in white walls with a brown speckled floor.

I turned slowly in a circle, taking it all in, my heart now racing again.

“There’s only one bedroom,” I said.

“Um, yeah.”

“There’s no furniture,” I said.

“Nope.”

“Uh, Beck…you didn’t mention that there was only one bedroom.”

“It’s all they give to people with no kids.”

“And the no furniture?”

“Surprise?”

“Oh my god.”

“We should get the rest of our stuff. I’m parked in the loading zone.”

“Oh my god.”

“Focus, Emmy.”

“Oh. My. God.”

Beckett shook his head and turned back toward the hall. “Come help me when your brain reboots.”