Dexter is delicious

But today it had lost the rosy glow that had for so many years kept me enchanted. I did not want to be here, browsing through the residue of someone else's happy frolic-and even more, I did not want to be off on a carefree romp of my own. I needed different vistas today. I had come to the old turf unwillingly, out of duty to Deborah, and now I wanted to go back to my new country, where all was bright and beautiful, the Land of Lily A

Deborah glanced up at me without any real recognition and then back to Mr. Aldovar. I was scenery to her, part of what a crime scene looked like, Dexter as Background. Enough: It was time for me to leave, to go back to Lily A

And so without lingering for any awkward farewells, I slid out the door and walked back to my car, where it still sat nestled in by the Dumpster. I drove to the hospital in the prelude to evening rush hour, a magical time when everyone on the road felt empowered and entitled to all the lanes at once because they had left work early, and in my past life I had taken great joy in the sight of so much naked contempt for life. Today it left me cold. These people were endangering others, not something I could tolerate in a world where I would soon be driving Lily A

As I came off the elevator on the floor for maternity I paused for a second as the faint echo of a whisper rattled off the back wall of Dexter's Dark Subbasement. This was where I had almost seen somebody who might have been watching me for some reason. But the thought came out sounding so ludicrous that I could do no more than shake my head and send a distant Tut-tut to the Passenger. "Almost Somebody" indeed. I moved on past, turning the corner to the nursery.

All my new friends at the nursery window were gone, replaced by a new crop, and Lily A

But happily for all, I heard the soft and mocking chuckle that lives inside, and I had to agree. Come now, Dexter: If you suddenly choose to feel emotions, is breast envy the best one to start with? Your role is just as important: to provide firm and loving guidance on the thorny path through Lily A

It was all so neat and logical. I had lived the wicked life in order to know how to steer Lily A

Feeling greatly enlightened and uplifted, I walked briskly past the nurses' station and down to Rita's room at the far end of the hall, right where it was supposed to be. Even better, Lily A

Rita opened her eyes and looked up at me with a tired smile. "Dexter," she said. "Where have you been?"

"There was an emergency at work," I said, and she looked at me blankly.

"Work," she said, and she shook her head. "Dexter, I-This is your newborn child here." And right on cue, Lily A

"Yes, I know," I said reassuringly.

"It's not-How can you just wander off to work?" she said, and she sounded very peeved, in a way I had never heard before. "When your brand-new baby is-I mean, work? At a time like this?"

"I'm sorry," I said. "Deborah needed me."

"So did I," she said.

"I'm really very sorry," I said, and weirdly enough, I really was. "I'm very new at this, Rita." She looked at me, shaking her head again. "I'll try to get better," I added hopefully.

Rita sighed and closed her eyes. "At least the flowers you sent were nice," she said, and a tiny bell began to ring in the dark backseat of Dexter's wicked wagon. I had not sent any flowers, of course. I was not experienced enough at all the many subtle hypocrisies of married life to think of such a clever ploy-I had not even realized that responding to an emergency at work was wrong, let alone that I needed to apologize with flowers. Of course, Rita had many friends who might have sent them, and I knew several people who were theoretically friends-even Deborah might have had a moment of sensitivity, unlikely as that seemed. In any case, there was absolutely no reason a few fragrant blossoms should set off any kind of alarm.

But they did. They definitely did-a steady, a

From the same general region that provided the little alarm bell, I heard a soft and wicked chuckle well up. The Dark Passenger was amused, and no wonder. Dexter is many things, but "admirable" is not one of the top ten. As far as I knew, I had no admirers. Anyone who really knew me well enough to admire me was theoretically already dead, dissected, and disposed. So who would sign the card like that? I knew enough about humans to know that a friend or family member would sign their own name to make absolutely sure they got credit for the flowers. An ordinary human, in fact, would already have called on the telephone to say, "Did you get my flowers? I wanted to be sure because they're so expensive!"

Clearly, no such call had come, since Rita assumed the roses were from me. Just as clearly, there was nothing really threatening about such a minor mystery.

So why did I feel small and icy feet walking up the back of my neck? Why was I so certain that some hidden danger threatened me and, therefore, Lily A

Put that way, in clear and logical form, it made perfect sense for me to feel uneasy. Lily A

Me.