Wildflowers 05 Into the Garden

by V. C. Andrews

  He nodded, smiling.

  What would I do after two days? I wondered. I needed to talk to Jade or Star desperately. We had to come up with some sensible explanation. Hopefully, Stuart wouldn't keep asking me about Geraldine.

  "I thought I'd take you to Laguna Beach," he said. "It'll take us a little over an hour, if that's all right."

  "Yes, fine," I said.

  "I had a great time last night," he continued as he started the engine and backed out of the driveway. I looked back, studying all the cars down the street, waiting for one to start up and follow. "I guess I've been shut up in my house of responsibilities too long. I almost feel like a guy traveling in a desert who reached an oasis. You're the oasis," he added

  His words made me blush and I didn't know what to say. I started to laugh and stopped, recalling Jade's advice about giggling stupidly after something a boy had said.

  "Jade says the trouble with most people she knows is that they don't balance their lives with fun and work. Star accuses her of putting too much emphasis on fun and says she doesn't know the meaning of work." Stuart laughed. Was I talking too much already, sounding like a little idiot?

  "I guess you girls are all getting along pretty well, despite the differences. That's terrific. Most of the girls I know at school stay in their safe little cocoons, their own little cliques. I guess you all have something in common"

  "Yes, we do."

  "I kind of lost contact with my best friends?'

  "Oh, too bad."

  "It's okay," he said, smiling "I'm back. I'll have best friends again. I hope you'll be one of them," he continued. I didn't know what to say to that. It just about took the breath out of me. I didn't want to just say sure or of course I will. I wanted to sound sincere and smart.

  "It takes time for people to become real friends," I finally said.

  "You're right. I'm glad you feel that way, too. All I mean is I think you and I can be friends and I hope you feel the same way about me. Jeez," he said, shaking his head. "I must sound like the biggest jerk spouting off like this. I'm sorry."

  "No, you don't. Really," I said, amused and encouraged that he had the same fears about himself.

  He looked at me with those warm, trusting eyes and I smiled at him.

  "Let's wait until the end of the afternoon and then you'll get another chance to tell me I don't talk too much," he said. "You look great," he added as if he had just looked at me.

  "Thank you."

  I turned and looked straight ahead, my heart thumping. What a beautiful day loomed before us: the sky was a soft blue with just a few small puffs of clouds dabbed against it. We soon saw the ocean glittering as if there were mirrors floating on the surface, the breakers fresh and exciting. Sailboats appeared, popping up like props on a perfect set. The world can be beautiful, I thought. I can be happy, can't I? I can put all the sadness behind me for a while. Please, I told my nervous conscience, take a day off.

  Stuart and I got to know each other much more during the trip. He told me about his ambitions to pursue a career in medical research.

  "I really started to think about it after my father's death," he explained. "Some day I'd like to be responsible for discovering a cure for the heart problem he had and preventing what happened to my family from happening to others. I know this might sound silly to you but sometimes I think of it as a way of getting revenge?'

  "That doesn't sound silly at all," I told him. "Anger often pushes us to do more, to work harder?'

  He nodded and gazed at me.

  "You sound pretty smart. I bet you do really well in school, huh?"

  "I have and haven't," I admitted. "This past year's been difficult."

  "Sure, I understand," he said. "I nearly dropped out after Dad died, I kept thinking I should just go and get a job and be my mother's main support. We're fine as far as money goes, but I just felt responsible. Gosh, listen to me talking about these problems. You've got to be thinking I'm a deadly serious person who doesn't know how to relax. Sorry."

  "It's all right," I said, laughing. "It's nice to have a sensible conversation, too."

  "Right," he said. "Do you like wraps? I know this great little place on the beach that makes a bunch of different kinds ..."

  "Wraps?"

  "You don't know what they are?"

  "No," I said. Why did every answer I gave seem like a terrible revelation? He could easily tell I've practically been incarcerated most of my life.

  "Oh. Well, they're like tortillas wrapped around chicken, salads, meats, cheeses. They're fun. You'll see," he said.

  "I'm sorry I don't know about them."

  "No, that's great. It's more fun for me because I can enjoy your discovery, too," he explained.

  It was nice the way he made me feel

  comfortable about everything. Before we arrived at the beach, I really relaxed and even stopped gazing surreptitiously out the rear window and in the side mirrors to see if we were being followed.

  Stuart parked as close to the beach cafe as possible.

  "I don't want you to have to walk too far," he said, but I protested.

  "Don't worry about that. I'm fine. It doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you to move slower."

  "I'd rather move slowly," he said. "I hope this day goes on forever?'

  Once again, I felt the heat rise to my face. I blushed so much after the nice things he said that I was sure he thought I was a walking thermometer. We paused to go into the shops along the way and some interesting art galleries. He decided he just had to buy me a necklace of hand-painted tiny seashells. After that we went to lunch and I did enjoy the wrap sandwich.

  Afterward, we found a place on the beach where we could sit and watch people playing volleyball and we could look out at the sailboats. I never thought about the time. What a luxury that was. Most of my life, I worried about each passing minute whenever I went anywhere because if I didn't get home on or before Geraldine had expected, I would have to undergo a vigorous cross- examination. It just wasn't worth it. Now, without that hanging over my head, it was as if a great weight had been lifted. I could laugh and talk and enjoy myself. I felt free and that sense of freedom opened doors I had kept locked in my mind for as long as I could remember.

  When Stuart talked about his youth, his favorite things, his fears and hopes, I could do the same. Sometimes, we started to talk at the same time. We'd stop and laugh, and he'd always insist I go first. We had a great deal to look at and enjoy, but we ended up looking at each other more and concentrating on ourselves far more than anything around us. We could have remained at my house for all it mattered, I thought, and then I thought that maybe it took the trip, the new surroundings, the sun and the water and the laughter around us to help us both become less inhibited.

  Whenever there were periods of silence between us, I remembered my fear and gazed around, searching for signs of my father. I didn't see anything to suggest he was nearby, and toward the later part of the afternoon, Stuart went to get us something cold to drink. We had decided to make dinner at my house when we returned. He was calling his mother to let her know. He said he wanted to pre- pare a pasta meal and show off his culinary talents. We envisioned the others coming over as well and it sounded like a good way to keep our fun day rolling on and on into the evening.

  I sat there feeling so warm and happy. In the sand I traced a heart and smiled to myself. My eyes shifted for- ward after a shadow fell over me and I saw a very familiar pair of feet. When I looked up, he was smiling down at me.

  "How did you hurt your leg, Cathy?" my father asked with a tone of concern.

  Because the sun was directly behind him, I couldn't see his face that well. I squinted, my heart suddenly pounding like a prisoner would pound on a wall.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked instead of answering.

  "Walking on the beach. It's a public beach. What are you doing here, Cathy?" he countered, now with a note of amusement.

  "Leave me alone," I moaned, cringi
ng back.

  "You didn't tell me how you hurt your leg?"

  "I fractured my ankle."

  "How?"

  "I fell."

  "I wouldn't let you fall, Cathy. I'd always take better care of you. I always did," he said, and turned away to walk up the beach just as Stuart was returning.

  "Who was that?" he asked, handing me my cold lemonade.

  "Nobody," I said quickly.

  "Nobody?"

  "Someone asking me directions to someplace. I couldn't help him," I added. I watched my father turn off the beach and head for the street. Stuart stared after him as well.

  "Are you all right?" he asked, kneeling down beside me again.

  "I'm just getting tired I guess," I said.

  "Sure. Let's head back. I want to stop at a grocery store and pick up a few things for our dinner. Okay?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "I hope you had a good time."

  "Oh, I did, Stuart Thank you."

  "Great," he said, helping me to my feet. We started for the car. I tried not to watch my father walking away, but it was difficult to just ignore him.

  Stuart gazed at me curiously when he opened the car door for me. Then he looked toward my father, too, squinted with suspicion, and got into the car. We drove in silence for a while.

  "I really enjoyed myself today," he said finally. He smiled at me. "Thanks for coming along."

  "Thanks for asking me."

  "That was the easy part," he said. His smile had a way of wiping the anxiety out of my eyes and my heart.

  He reached down for my hand and held it a moment. I moved closer to him and we rode on in a softer sort of silence as if both of us were afraid of ending a magic moment.

  After Stuart bought some groceries, we returned to my house. I half expected to find either Star or Jade there, but the house was empty. I went upstairs to freshen up while Stuart started on the dinner. He wanted to make a pasta sauce and prepare some shrimp.

  While I was upstairs, I phoned Jade, who was so breathless when she answered, I thought she might have been on a treadmill.

  "Oh, Cat," she cried, "I've been calling you all day. We've got to get you either an answering machine or an answering service ASAP. Where have you been?"

  I told her about my date with Stuart, but I quickly went on to the photograph and to my not-soaccidentally meeting my father on the beach.

  "I've got to think about this," she said. "If you call the police and complain, they'll only ask to speak with Geraldine."

  "I know. What do I do?" I asked with some panic.

  "Stay calm. That's the first thing. I need to think more. He knows he's breaking his agreement, but he probably thinks you're doing things behind

  Geraldine's back and won't tell on him or something It's complicated. Why doesn't he just leave you alone? Have you spoken to Star?"

  "Not yet," I said. "When I called, she was out with Larry?'

  "Hmm. Well, let's schedule a meeting of the OWP's tomorrow late in the morning?'

  "What about tonight?"

  "Oh, I promised to go to the movies with David tonight, and I don't want to cause anyone to become suspicious about us," she added, but I had the sense that it was more like she didn't want to give up her date.

  "Okay," I said.

  "What are you doing tonight?" she asked, and I told her that Stuart was making dinner.

  "We were hoping to have you all over."

  "Oh. Maybe another time. David's taking me to one of my favorite restaurants on Melrose. Maybe Star will come or Misty," she added. "Tell them about our meeting. And don't worry too much. It will be all right," she insisted.

  If only that all it took was her saying it, I thought.

  As soon as I hung up, I called Star. Rodney answered and then called her to the phone.

  "Sorry I didn't call you today yet," she began immediately, "but I had a big blow-out with Ma'ama. She was drinking, of course, and when she met Larry, she started to be disgusting and flirt with him. It made me sick with embarrassment and I let her know it. Granny came home and it was a horrible scene. Ma'ama ran out of the house and I hope she stays away for good. I'm supposed to meet Larry's mother and father tonight, too," she wailed. She was complaining and crying so much, I didn't have the heart to tell her about my problems, but I knew I must.

  She listened and then after a moment of silence said, "I just knew that man was going to be more trouble. I could try to come over later," she said, "but it might be hard with me going over to Larry's house and all."

  "I know. I understand," I said. "I'll be all right." I told her about Jade's plan for a meeting and she said she would be sure to be here. "Maybe Misty will spend another night with you," she concluded.

  When I called Misty, however, all I got was her answering machine. I left an urgent message and then finally went to my bathroom to freshen up. I couldn't stop the trembling inside myself. Seeing my father like that so suddenly on the beach, hearing his voice and what he had to say had sent sharp shivers through my body. A montage of bad memories exploded in my mind. It brought tears to my eyes and for a long while, all I could do was sit on the edge of the bathtub and embrace myself as if I were two people, one trying to comfort the other.

  I didn't realize- just how long I had been upstairs until I started to change my clothes and looked at the clock. It had been well over an hour. I rushed to cover up the redness around my eyes and tried to get myself to look calm and relaxed. I had put on one of my new skirts and blouses. After one final brushing of my hair and after putting on fresh lipstick, I started downstairs.

  It was so quiet, I thought Stuart might have given up on me and left.

  "Stuart?" I called. "Sorry, I was so long."

  I made the turn at the base of the stairs, but stopped at the entrance to the living room. He was sitting on the sofa and looking rather odd, I thought. His head was slightly tilted and his eyes were glazed and full of confusion.

  "Hi. Sorry. I got on the phone and you know how that can be when girls talk. It doesn't look like any of them will be coming tonight. Maybe Misty. I haven't heard back from her yet. Anything I can do?"

  "The sauce is simmering," he said. "I've got dinner under control, but there is something you can do," he added.

  "Oh." I went farther into the living room. Smiling, but anxious, I asked, "What?"

  "You can explain this," he said, and held up the photo I had left under the magazine.

  My heart felt like a yo-yo, falling, falling, falling until it almost touched the bottom of my stomach and then jerking up again only to bounce and wobble. Words fell over themselves clumsily in my mind as I tried to develop some sensible answer. My mouth actually opened and closed without my making a sound.

  "Who would do this?" he asked.

  I wondered if I could somehow ration the truth the way someone lost in the desert might ration her water. There was that part of me that didn't want to ration anything and that part of me that wanted to just gulp it all and stop pretending I could survive anyway.

  "I didn't mean to snoop or anything," he continued, uncomfortable with my silence. "I was waiting for you and just started to look at this magazine when I found the picture."

  "I'm sorry," I said, "I didn't tell you everything about my family."

  "I don't mean to be nosy. It's just that. . . this picture... it's weird to find it like this."

  "I know?' My thoughts were gathering, straightening up like bowling pins. I nodded and sat across from him. "My mother recently got divorced," I said. "I had a stepfather and he's the one who took that picture. He sent it here today by Federal Express."

  "Why?"

  Jade's parents' divorce battle came to mind first. It gave me fodder for fabrication.

  "My mother and he fought over who was a better parent and he was just trying to prove she wasn't as good as she thought she was. They're still going to do legal battle over custody and

  responsibility for me."

  "He thought this was te
rrible?" he asked, holding up the picture.

  "I guess. I didn't tell my mother I was having a party."

  "Oh," he said. "So he thinks he caught you having a wild time behind her back and he's blaming her for leaving you alone?"

  "Something like that," I said. "I'm sorry you're in the middle of it."

  "No, that's all right."

  He looked somewhat satisfied and I breathed with relief. "It was just strange to come upon this. Do you see him much anymore?" Stuart asked.

  "No. Well, yes. I saw him today," I said, deciding to use every opportunity I had to bring in truth.

  "What? When? Before I came?"

  "No. He was the man on the beach I said was nobody. I'm sorry I didn't tell you who he really was."

  "You mean you just accidentally met him there?" "I don't think it was accidental," I said.

  Stuart's face grew tight and serious as his eyes darkened. Suddenly, he looked at the window.

  "He's spying on you. Is that it?"

  "Yes," I said. "If you want to leave, I'll understand," I said.

  "No. That's stupid. He's just being stupid. How long after your real father's death did your mother wait before remarrying?"

  "Not long."

  "And how long were they married?"

  "Nearly my whole life. I never knew my real father," I admitted.

  "Oh," he said, nodding.

  "I'm sorry I didn't tell you all this."

  "No, you don't have any reason to apologize. Why should you have told me? I was a complete stranger."

  "I don't mind telling you now," I said, "and I did feel bad deceiving you into believing something else." He smiled.

  "I'm happy you trust me now. Don't worry about your stepfather. When your mother comes back, if she has any doubts about you, I'll be an expert witness as to your good behavior."

  I laughed, but then I thought what am I going to do about Geraldine never coming back? I had never dreamed I would meet someone who would

  complicate things like this. I never imagined I would want someone here always and to do that, I would have to explain Geraldine's absence. How many lies could I tell and when would the weight of them collapse around me and leave me broken and alone again?