Chapter Twenty-Eight

Rikki

I was surprised when Becca emerged from her room with Kyle. Allia, back from her short walk with Lauren, rushed inside to get ready, but I stared at my daughter. She was so beautiful and so young. Helpless. Sometimes she acted grown up, but at that moment I knew she’d need me for years and years.

Her eyes ran over me. “You feeling better?”

“Perfect.” They didn’t have to know how much I was fighting to stay on my feet. A little food should help, though.

Kyle leaned on me, and I put my arm around her. I felt weepy, but I told myself it was the medication.

“Come on,” Becca said. “I’ll go hurry Allia so we can eat. Oh, and Dante called. Joel Flemming is awake and stable. He doesn’t seem to have experienced any brain damage.”

I smiled. “That’s a relief. He’s a good man.” He’d never been anything but kind to me, though enduring daddy-daughter activities with a child who wasn’t his daughter couldn’t have been all that comfortable for him.

At breakfast, James and Lauren promptly forgot their battle and began playing so much that Becca had her hands full keeping them at the table. She didn’t seem to mind.

We left the older girls at the hotel’s playroom with the room keys, instructions for the lunch in Becca’s cooler, strict orders not to swim in either of the two pools until we returned, and a cell phone in case of emergency.

The first garden was easy, with even paths and uniform beds. The next was tougher—a hilly patch of ground with ups and downs that made me sweat. The flower beds here were overgrowing with apparent abandon, but Becca pointed out how carefully the garden was tended, from the aerated soil to the tiny ties that trained the vines. As she talked, she glowed, and not for the first time I could see what Dante loved about her. I was beginning to love her myself.

I had to rest frequently. “Sorry,” I muttered once, sinking onto a decorative metal bench. “Still a bit under the weather, I guess.”

“Don’t be. Gives me more of a chance to feel the gardens.”

I smiled. “Getting any ideas?”

“Yeah. I think I should use some trellises. I’ve always been a little scared to try, but it doesn’t look all that hard after all.”

“Yes, it does.”

She laughed. “No, it’s kids that are hard.”

“You can say that again. Speaking of that, I was really surprised when Kyle came out with you this morning.” I didn’t add that once I’d known everything about my daughter but suddenly she’d become a bit of a stranger. Becca understood the way teens grew up better than I did. “I like what you did with her makeup.”

“She’s a beautiful girl.”

“I wish you’d tell her that.”

“I did.”

I felt a rush of gratitude toward her, knowing how far that would go with Kyle. We sat on the bench in silence for several minutes. A bird flitted overhead, its shadow passing over the cobblestone walkway. I found myself wishing for the courage to finally confide my secret to someone, but a group of people came toward us and the moment passed.

Swallowing a bout of nausea, I jumped up from the bench—or tried to. In the end it was more a rolling up out of the seat. “Let’s go to the next garden,” I said. “Isn’t that the one by all those outlet malls? We should stop there and see if they have any specials. You should buy something to remember your first garden show.”

Becca laughed and followed me down the path.

I wished I believed in God so I could pray. I needed a miracle.