Kiss of the Silver Wolf by Sharon Buchbinder

after school. You need to get some rest and do some reading. Love, Zack."
    She smiled and placed the now limp red rose from the night before next to the note. “Maybe I will keep him."
    She pulled out the kitchen chair to sit down and found a shoebox with her name on the lid. She opened it, and saw stacks of envelopes addressed to her Aunt Jessie, postmarked from Baltimore, Maryland. Her breath whooshed out.
    Was she really ready for this?
    She plopped into the chair and fanned the letters out with shaking hands. She began with the oldest one.
    Dear Jessie—
    I miss Eden so much. I can't tell you how lonely I've been. I've been trying to decide what to do about the baby. Here in Baltimore, there are options—but I can't bring myself to do any of them. Please don't tell Father I've decided to keep the baby, raise it myself. I found a job as a nurse's aide. I'll write when I can.
    Love, Joanna
    She thought of her mother—pregnant, young, alone, afraid to go home, terrified of her father. Charlene wondered what she would have done, had she been in her mother's shoes.
    Dear Jessie—
    I've met a nice man. His name is Fred Johnson. He wants to marry me, doesn't care that I'm pregnant.
    Can you believe that? He's working on a doctorate in genetics. I think I will marry him. He is very kind. He would never hurt me or my baby.
    Love, Joanna.
    Tears blurred Charlene's vision. Her mother married Fred because he was kind. Not because she fell madly in love with him. But they loved each other. Didn't they?
    Dear Jessie—
    Fred and I were married in a courthouse in Baltimore. We have a nice little apartment near Hopkins and our neighbors are all students, too.
    The baby is due any day now.
    Love, Joanna
    PS: I'm looking forward to your visit.
    Jessie had gone to Baltimore?
    Dear Jessie—
    It was so good to see you. And so nice you arrived right after Joey was born. If you hadn't been here to help, I think I would have lost my mind! The doctors kept reassuring me that my “pregnancy related hair and skin condition” would go away after I delivered. If they only knew ! Thank you for telling Fred that Joey's problems run in our family. He is convinced that he will find a cure for whatever it is. Isn't he a dear sweet man?
    Love, Joanna
    Charlene flipped through the years, and found the news of her birth.
    Dear Jessie—
    I wish you could be here to meet your niece.
    She is PERFECT . Not a single thing wrong. I cannot bring myself to give her a J name as a first name. I know it's our family tradition, but thanks to Fred, she has a fresh start in life, untainted by Eden and our “condition.” I've decided to name her Charlene Jessie Johnson.
    Isn't that pretty? Here's a photo of your beautiful, perfect, perfect, perfect niece.
    Love, Joanna
    PS: I hope this pregnancy mask goes away soon. It reminds me too much of you-know-what.
    Smiling, she pulled the snapshot out of the envelope. A perfect infant peered up at the camera from her mother's arms. Joanna had long, luxuriant shiny blonde hair and a symmetrical brown discoloration across her cheeks, the pregnancy mask. What did she mean by “you-know-what?"
    The letters were filled with chitchat about daily life in Baltimore. The tone was always upbeat, and each missive extolled Charlene's brilliance and perfection. Why was her mother so hung up on her being “perfect, perfect, perfect?"
    Dear Jessie—
    I cannot thank you enough for the loan.
    I promise we will pay it all off. The school is so good for Joey. He's happy there and now we can give Charlene the opportunities and attention she needs, too. She's so smart. She loves her science classes. I think she's going to be a scientist like her father.
    Thank you, thank you, thank you.
    Love, Joanna
    Now she knew where the money came for Joey's school. That horrid Mrs. Morton was right. It was expensive, more than her parents could afford on two incomes. Money was tight, but they made sure she had ballet lessons, summer camp and never