Into the Garden (22 page)

"How many bedrooms?"
"Two," I said.
When we looked into the living room, we saw that slower music was being played and everyone was dancing closely. Misty looked very happy and gave me an impish little smile as she tightened her embrace around Chris. For a long moment Stuart and I remained in the doorway, watching.
"How did you all meet?" he asked. "You're all going to different schools and live in different parts of the city, right?"
Once again butterflies of panic fluttered in my chest. There were just too many lies floating around us. One or the other was bound to crash and send up question marks and create suspicions. The best thing to do, I concluded, was stay as close to the truth as possible.
"We all had the same therapist," I told him. "Doctor Marlowe?'
"Oh?' He nodded and looked at them. "I saw a counselor too, after Dad's death. Did it help you?"
"Yes," I said.
"Me too?' He smiled. "It's good to have someone to talk to," he said, "someone who really listens?'
I nodded.
"You wanna try it?" he asked, nodding at the dancers.
"I'll be clumsy," I said.
"So will I. We'll be a perfect couple," he said. He smiled, but with such sincerity, I lost my inhibitions in a moment. It was as if he could fill me with confidence simply by directing those hazel eyes at mine. Our eyes locked as if we were both about to journey through them into our very souls, touching each other deeply before retreating like two people who suddenly snap out of a hypnotic state.
He gently took the crutches from me and placed them against the wall. Then he put his arm around my waist and held me as if he would keep me from falling off the edge of the earth. I never would have thought it, but I actually forgot I had a cast on my leg. We moved about the room with almost as much grace and ease as the others. I saw how the girls were all gazing at us, each with a soft, happy smile o her face. None matched the smile on my face, however.
When the music changed and became upbeat, we didn't retreat. We were all swinging and laughing. In fact, I became so involved with my dancing, I nearly forgot about the meatballs. Stuart reminded me.
"I'm one of those men who could be won over with food," he whispered.
I laughed, but he looked like he really meant it. He and I then returned to the kitchen and prepared the sandwich platters.
"We're a team," he declared. "You make them up and serve them."
Finally, we joined the others and all of us sat around eating and talking. David asked Larry questions about the army and Germany, and even Misty's Chris, who had been so quiet all evening, asked questions. Afterward, everyone helped clean up and for a while, we all just sat around, talking about schools, music, and movies. I could see the curiosity building in Stuart's face as I revealed that I hadn't seen this or done that. I could almost hear him ask, "Where have you been?"
Where had I been? While everyone else was out there, experiencing life, doing things, Geraldine had me practically imprisoned in her own unhappiness and depression. It wasn't hard to understand why I had at first welcomed my father's unholy affections.
Jade and David started to dance again and soon after Star and Larry joined them. Jade looked like she was trying to outdo Star for a while and then everyone just stopped, exhausted. It was getting late, anyway.
It had been decided beforehand that Misty was going to stay over with me. When the party ended, Star left with Larry, and David decided that he and Stuart were going to take Jade homed Chris lingered. I could see Misty really liked him.
"If you're tired," she whispered, "just go up.I'll come up later' She glanced at Chris who sat on the sofa trying not to look conspicuous.
"Oh, sure," I said.
I went out with David, Jade, and Stuart to say good night. Star and Larry had already left.
"I really had a good time," Stuart told me. "I'm glad I let my cousin talk me into it."
"I'm glad too," I said.
"You're a nice girl," he said. "Easy to talk to and not full of yourself like so many girls I meet these days." "Thanks," I said.
Jade and David were waiting patiently in the car and involved in each other. My heart started thumping. What was I supposed to do? Look like I wanted to kiss him good night? Encourage him? Just stick out my hand? Was a handshake okay or silly for a girl?
Before I could ponder the questions long, he leaned forward and brought his lips gently to mine. His eyes were closed, but I kept mine open. It was a quick kiss, almost too quick to be considered anything.
"Good night," he said.
"Good night."
He lingered very close to me.
"I'd like to call you tomorrow. Maybe we can go for a ride or something and have some lunch at the beach," he said. "How's that sound?"
"Good," I said. It sounded more than good.
He smiled, turned to go to the car, paused, and then returned to me.
"I've been out of it so long, I guess I kissed you good night like someone would kiss a relative. You probably think I'm a clumsy fool."
"No, I--"
He embraced me and kissed me harder on the lips, holding me longer, sending a hot shaft of excitement up my spine and around my stomach.
"There," he said. "That's more like it, right?"
All I could do was nod. He smiled softly, squeezed my hand gently and left for the car. Before he got into the backseat, he waved.
"I'll call you midmorning," he promised and got in. I watched the car back away. Jade waved.
"Great party!" David called back to me. I waved to him, too, and remained on the walk as the car moved down the street. Just before it reached the corner, its headlights washed over an automobile parked on the right.
My heart stopped and started.
It looked exactly like my father's car and there was someone sitting inside. I saw his silhouette just for a second. I couldn't move. The car's lights went on; its engine started and it pulled away, disappearing like some short but horrifying nightmare, into the darkness.
I caught my breath and hurried back into the house. I wanted to tell Misty, but the lights were out in the living room. The music was low and I knew she certainly didn't want to hear or see me at the moment. She especially didn't want to hear anything unpleasant tonight.
No matter how close we all got to each other, some burdens would be my own, I thought. I carried this one up to my bedroom with me and closed the door. I had wanted to go to sleep dreaming of Stuart's warm eyes, but instead, when I closed my own, I could see only my father's eyes shining through the darkness like some predatory animal's, waiting patiently, hovering, confident that soon, soon he would get what he wanted.

Misty didn't come up all night. I fell asleep waiting for her and woke up once during the night and realized she wasn't beside me in the bed. I listened for voices below, heard nothing, and concluded she might have left with Chris. However, when I went down in the morning, I found her curled up on the sofa. She had a blanket partially wrapped over her and I could see she was wearing only her bra and panties. Her dress was draped over the back of the sofa. Chris was gone. I didn't wake her. I went into the kitchen and started on breakfast. Just as I sat at the table, she appeared in the doorway with the blanket around her like a toga.

"Hi," she said after a big yawn. She shuffled to the coffeepot and poured herself a cup. After she took a sip, she smiled and said, "Great party." She paused when I didn't respond. "You had fun, didn't you? I saw how close you and Stuart were most of the night."

"Well, why are you so glum looking then? Are you mad at me for spending more time with Chris?" "No, of course not," I replied.
"So?" She sat and sipped her coffee. "What is

it?"
"I think my father was out there last night,
parked across the street. It looked like his car and his
silhouette when he pulled away. He left right after
David drove off with Stuart and Jade."
"Maybe you just imagined it was him," Misty
said. "You're nervous about it since the break-in. I
mean, why would he just sit in his car across the street
and then leave when they left? That doesn't make
sense, does it?"
"I don't know. He was probably stunned by
what he had discovered in here when he broke in, and
now he is spying on the house. Seeing I had a party
surely sharpened his curiosity. He knows Geraldine
would never permit
She thought a moment and then shrugged. "What's he going to do about it?"
"I don't know."
"He's supposed to stay out of your life. He's got
to be afraid you'll call the police if he comes around,
so stop worrying so much. You'll get a wrinkled brow
and Stuart might not like that," she teased.
I blushed and she laughed.
"Guess what," she said, leaning toward me, her
eyes full of glee "Chris isn't as shy as I thought." Her
eyes brightened even more in anticipation of my
reaction.
"What do you mean?" I asked instead. "What do I mean? He didn't leave until about an
hour ago," she said, and stopped as if she had drawn
dots on a page that I was supposed to connect in my
own mind. "I didn't exactly chain him to the sofa," she
added. "Understand?" She laughed. "I think I'll make
some toast," she said, rising. "So," she continued as
she worked, "how far did you two go?"
"How far?"
She turned and raised her eyebrows.
"Yes, how far? Did you take the advice of our
two leaders and make your kisses seem like gold?" "Oh. He kissed me good night," I revealed. She continued to stare at me, waiting. "What?" I asked.
"That's it? You two were dancing very closely
at one point, and you did spend a lot of time with him
in the kitchen, I noticed."
'We were preparing the food:'
"Uh-huh," she sang.
"That was it," I assured her. She still looked
skeptical. "He's calling me this morning. He wants to
take me to the beach and then to lunch."
"That's nice. I'm going with Chris to the Santa
Monica mall this morning. He wants me to help him
buy his mother a birthday present. I wonder where
Star and Larry ended up last night," she added after
the toast popped up.
"Larry was very nice," I said. "All the boys
were:'
"It's our new aura," Misty declared with
dramatic flair. "Jade was right. Our spiritual sessions
have wrapped a ring of charm about us that attracts
only handsome, nice guys. See how we're all
glowing!"
She laughed, and I wondered if she really
believed it or was just having fun and teasing me. Just under an hour later, Stuart called and
arranged to pick me up by eleven. We still hadn't
heard from Jade or Star. Misty helped me clean up the
house, but criticized me for being too vigilant about it. "You act as if we're going to have an
inspection. Geraldine's not coming back," she
emphasized. Then she showered, dressed, and was
ready for Chris when he came.
"Would you like to go with us?" he asked after
Misty and I greeted him at the door.
"She can't. She has a date," Misty sang. "Cat's
on the prowl," she told him, and followed it with a
long meow that made us both laugh. "I'll call you
later," she cried out as she left the house.
I returned to my room and spent the rest of my
time in front of my new vanity mirror trying to decide
if I needed a darker lipstick, more makeup on my
cheeks, or less eye shadow on my lids. It all made me
so nervous, I finally just washed my face and put on
the same lipstick I had on the night before.
I had bell-bottom jeans to wear that would go
over my cast, but I hated how I looked in them. My
hips were too wide. Instead, l chose one of my new
skirts, a blouse, and a cardigan sweater, which I didn't
button. Searching through the bag of jewelry Jade had
discovered in Geraldine's safe, I found a gold bracelet
and a gold ring with diamond baguettes that fit my
pinky finger. When the doorbell rang, I quickly
sprayed on some of the cologne Jade had brought me
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.

Your 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?"
Why had my father done this? What did he want? I thought and thought until a cold, terrifying reason reached the surface of my confusion. Could it be that he was actually jealous? That he didn't want to see me with anyone else? Was he hoping this picture would turn Geraldine against Stuart and have her forbid me from ever seeing him again? Did he revel in the commotion and the dissension he would create in this house? He wanted her to keep me locked away. Maybe he hoped I would hate her so much, I would turn back to him.
Whatever his reasons, another thought occurred to me. He would be spying on me all the time. He might even be out there this very moment, I thought, out there with his camera, waiting, hoping to catch me in some compromising act so he could have more to use in his drive to turn Geraldine into an even worse ogre.
What was I going to do? I had to talk to the others to tell them about all this and get their advice. I went to the phone and called Star. Her granny answered and said Star and Larry had taken Rodney to the zoo. I thanked her and then I called Jade. Her answering machine came on and I left an urgent message. I imagined that she was still in bed, but would call me soon.
When the doorbell rang, I realized that in my turmoil I had completely forgotten about Stuart. It was just a little after eleven. For a moment I spun about in a fluster, the picture still in my hand. I didn't want him to see it. I shoved it under a magazine in the living room and then went to the door. He had rung again.
"Hi," he said. "I didn't mean to rush you, but I wanted to be sure you had heard."
"That's okay," I said.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes." I gazed back into the house as if I somehow still expected Geraldine to appear, especially after the picture had been delivered, and then I hurried out, closing the door behind me quickly.
As soon as I did step out, I paused, leaned on my crutches, and studied every automobile in the street. My father's car wasn't there, but maybe he had a different car, or maybe he had hired someone to follow me and take pictures. All sorts of scenarios ran through my terrified imagination. Stuart sensed my anxiety.
"Anything wrong?" he asked
"Oh, no," I said. "I was just looking to see if Misty was gone. She just left to go shopping with Chris," I added quickly, but I was never a very good liar. Geraldine had eyes that locked on mine and forced me to be truthful most of the time. She was always prying, checking, recon- firming.
"Do you have to be back any specific time?" Stuart asked as we went to his car and he opened the door for me. "No," I said.
"So your mother's going to be away today, too?"
"Oh, yes. She called and said she was staying over another night, maybe even two."
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, cringing 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?'