Into the Garden (Wildflowers 5)

and then started down the stairs, hating how clumsy I

looked with this cast and crutches. Even so, I couldn't

remember when I was more excited. This was really

my first date.

Leaning on my crutches, I pulled the door open

only to face a deliveryman from Federal Express. My

expression of disappointment hoisted his eyebrows. "Geraldine Carson?" he asked.

For a moment my throat closed and I couldn't

utter a sound. In an instant, I made a decision. "Yes?" I said, pretending to be Geraldine. "I have a delivery," he said, showing me the big

envelope. "Please sign here," he said, offering me a

clipboard and pointing to a line.

I visualized her signature and tried my best to

do it right even at a moment's notice. The messenger

didn't care or ask for any identification.

"Thank you," he said.

I forced a smile, thanked him, and stepped

back, quickly closing the door. For a few seconds, I

just stood there trembling with the envelope in hand.

Swallowing down a lump in my throat, I went into the

living room, sat on the sofa and studied the envelope.

There was no indication as to who had sent it. Maybe

it was just the hospital or the bank or even Doctor

Marlowe, I thought. I took a deep breath and tore it

open.

A sheet of paper was taped to two slices of

cardboard. First, I read what was on the paper.

Dear GYour so-called innocent is not so innocent after all. There's blame to be shared.

He didn't sign it, but I recognized my father's handwriting. Slowly, I pulled the two pieces of cardboard apart and the picture fell on my lap. It had obviously been taken with a telephoto lens the night before. It had definitely been he in that car parked across the street. The shot caught Stuart and me kissing the second time, the long and romantic kiss. We were under the lights and clearly identifiable. I had been so dazed by the kiss that I hadn't felt his hand at the side of my breast. I know he didn't mean to grope me or anything, but it was just the awkward way we embraced when he had rushed back to give me "a real kiss:'

If Geraldine were alive and looking at this, I thought, she would have found this photo damning. Whatever privileges she had granted would have been revoked. I could almost hear her shouting over my shoulder.

"In the street! You kiss someone like that in the street and in front of our home for anyone to see?"