She’d felt sorry for Linda and had invited her to come out on Valentine’s Day for supper and a movie. “No,” Linda told her. “I don’t want to be a spare wheel.”
Linda turned on the TV. As she flipped channels she could see that all of the shows were about Valentine’s Day. This made her feel even more morose3. Linda decided to go for a walk. She gathered up her wallet and keys. Maybe she would go to the corner store and get a magazine to read. Linda walked downstairs to the front door of her apartment building. A delivery person with flowers was just walking up the steps to the door.
Linda opened the door to let him in. “Thanks,” he said. “What floor is apartment 401 on？” Linda stared at the delivery man. “401 is my apartment.” she said. “Then these must be for you.” said the delivery man. “Oh—I—they can’t be for me,” Linda stuttered. “There must be some kind of mistake.” The man read the card through the plastic bag.“Are you Linda？” he asked. “Yes, I am.” Linda said as she blushed. The man handed the flowers to her. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” he said.
Linda took the flowers up to her apartment. She took off the plastic wrap and read the card. “Linda,” it read. “Happy Valentine’s Day. Love from your secret admirer.”
Linda was shocked. Who could have sent these flowers？She didn’t recognize the writing. She ph