Stealing Second: Sam's Story: Book 4 in the Clarksonville Series

by Clanton, Barbara L.

  “Found you?”

  “Your mother couldn’t have children—“

  “She must have been devastated.” Sam felt bad for the woman she had called Mother for eighteen years.

  “I think she was. That’s why they looked for a surrogate.”

  “And that was you.” So it wasn’t an accident. I wasn’t an accident. “How did they find you exactly?”

  Helene sat again. Both cups of tea went untouched. “I was eighteen and had moved out on my own. My mother—“

  “My grandmother?”

  “I guess so. She died a few years ago.”

  “I’m sorry, Helene. I didn’t know.”

  “Thank you. Back then my father left us right after my sister Chantal was born. I guess he wasn’t too keen on being a family man. He drank himself to death a few years later.”

  “You never talked about your family before. I feel stupid that I never asked about them.”

  “You did ask. When you were little, but I never gave you many details. You stopped asking after a while. So, anyway, my mother was having trouble raising the two of us in the small town where we lived, so as soon as I could I moved to the big city.”

  “Montréal.”

  “Yes. I moved out and rented a room from two girls who had a three-bedroom apartment. I got a job waitressing and sent as much money to my mother as I could spare. That whole apartment thing didn’t work out. The other two always forgot to pay their share of the rent.” Helene made air quotes around the word forgot.

  “And I bet they weren’t as neat as you are either.”

  “No, they weren’t.” Helene chuckled. ”I moved into a studio apartment on my own. My waitressing job paid for the rent and not much else. Luckily Vinny, the owner of the restaurant, took pity on me and let me eat for free, but there wasn’t a lot of money left over to pay bills after I sent money home. I had to choose between paying the electric or the water bill.”

  As Sam listened to Helene tell the tale of her difficult early adult life, she felt guilty about the riches she took for granted. She took in Helene’s blond hair, and minus the streaks of gray, it was the same color as hers. And Helene’s facial features, they were so much like her own. Sam realized with a start, that her life could have been incredibly different. It was a sobering thought. She took a sip of her now cooling tea, not really tasting the sugary concoction.

  “After a while,” Helene continued, “I knew I had to do something. Then one day, a regular customer of mine made me an offer.”

  “Daddy?”

  “No, it was someone that worked for him.”

  “Oh.” Sam wondered how much money Helene’s surrogate services had been worth but figured that was one of life’s questions she was better off not knowing the answer to. “He told you about becoming a surrogate mother?”

  Helene nodded. “Except it’s illegal in the Province of Québec.”

  “How about in New York?”

  “It’s illegal here, too.”

  Sam’s eyes grew wide. She wasn’t legally born.

  “Your father has wide influence, Samantha Rose. You know that. What your father wants, your father gets.”

  “But doesn’t everybody think Mother is my biological mother?”

  Helene nodded slowly.

  “How did you guys pull that one off? And why are you still here after eighteen years? Why did they keep you around? I don’t mean to be blunt, but my father easily rids himself of potential problems. And, I’m not sure I want to know, but how did you get pregnant in the first place?”

  “Whoa, slow down with the questions. You always were such an inquisitive child.” Helene laughed and got up. She went to the cupboard and pulled out a box of shortbread cookies.

  “Ooh, my favorite.”

  “I know. We need sustenance because I think we’re going to be here for a while. More tea?”

  Sam shook her head, and Helene sat back down.

  “Okay.” Helene opened the box of cookies. “Let me try to answer your questions. You’ve earned that right.”

  “Start at the beginning. Wherever that is.” As perverse as it sounded, Sam actually enjoyed their exchange. She was going to miss Helene fiercely when she went back to Montréal. When her insides had finally stopped shaking, she reached for a cookie, amazed she could eat anything at all.

  “Oh, my God,” Sam blurted. “I just realized. I’m half Canadian. That’s why I like hockey so much.”

  Helene burst out laughing. Sam chuckled, too, glad she was able to ease a little of the tension.

  Sam blew out a sigh once she caught her breath from laughing. Her thoughts turned serious again. “Helene?”

  “Mmm?”

  “I got my music from you, didn’t I?”

  Helene nodded. “I’ve always thought so.”

  “That makes sense. Neither Mother nor Daddy has much musical ability.”

  They sat quietly for a moment, each lost in thought, until Helene cleared her throat. “Your parents told everyone around here that they were off on an extended vacation while your mother was pregnant.” She made air quotes around the word pregnant. “They were actually hiding out in Phoenix.”

  “So I really was born there?”

  “Mm hmm.”

  “Were my parents there for nine whole months?”

  “No, about six or seven. They brought me here to the US when I began my second trimester with you. We lived in a gorgeous Adobe house in an old part of Phoenix. Your father accompanied me to all the prenatal doctor appointments. He was so excited when he learned you were a girl.”

  “He was?”

  Helene nodded. “When the time came for you to be born, your mother stayed in the house while he took me to the hospital.”

  “So no one ever realized you were a surrogate. Maybe they thought you were his, uh, his...” She couldn’t say the word mistress out loud.

  Helene nodded. “They knew we weren’t married. And he was twenty years older, so, yes they might have thought that.”

  “But why Phoenix?”

  “You know how small towns like East Valley are.”

  “I found that out today. No secrets.”

  “They knew they couldn’t get away with faking your mother’s pregnancy here. I think your father made a big donation to some hospital fund or something. That way he had an in with a doctor in Phoenix.”

  “Which bought the doctor’s silence.” Sam recognized it as something her father might do. “The doctor didn’t have all the facts, did he?”

  “Nope. For some reason, your father never tried to get the birth certificate altered. Maybe he didn’t want to push his luck.”

  “Or maybe he thought he could keep it hidden from me my whole life.”

  “He did for eighteen years,” Helene said.

  “You all did.”

  Helene’s cheeks tinged red.

  “Was I a difficult pregnancy?”

  “Not the pregnancy.”

  Oh, my God, Sam thought as a wave of dizziness washed over her. She really is my mother. “You had trouble giving birth?”

  Helene nodded. “But you’re getting ahead of our story.”

  “It is our story, isn’t it?” Sam took a deep breath to keep her frayed nerves in line. “This is so surreal, Helene. I never dreamed I’d be sitting here talking to you about this.”

  Helene reached across the table and gave Sam’s hand an affectionate squeeze. She cleared her throat obviously trying to keep her emotions at bay. She stood up. “I have something for you.” She went into the adjoining living room and rifled through one of the boxes she’d been packing. After a minute she pulled out what looked like a scrapbook. She also reached into her mammoth purse and pulled out a plastic shopping bag.

  “First of all,” Helene said, “I’m hoping your parents will come around at some point, but in the meanwhile...“ Helene held out the shopping bag for Sam to take.

  Sam opened the bag and looked in. “Two smartphones?”

  “
One for you and one for Lisa. Maybe Susie can deliver one to Lisa the next time she goes to Clarksonville.”

  Sam threw her arms around Helene and hugged her. “Oh, my God. Thank you so much. I didn’t know what I was going to do without my phone. Lisa’s my rock.”

  “I know. One day I hope your parents see it, too. I got the plan with lots of texting minutes and the feature where you can see each other when you talk on the phone. I made sure of that.”

  “This is so cool. Lisa’s gonna flip. I will pay you back as soon as I get off restrictions.”

  “No need. It’s my gift to you and Lisa. Now all you have to do, young lady, is not get caught using it.”

  “Helene?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Does Chantal know?”

  Tears welled up in Helene’s eyes as she shook her head. “No.”

  Sam’s heart broke. “Your own sister doesn’t know you have a child.” God, Helene had sacrificed so much.

  “It’s okay.” Helene grabbed a tissue and dabbed at the corner of her eyes.

  “It’s not okay,” Sam said. “Helene?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Was it hard hearing me call her Mother?”

  Helene looked down for a moment. “Yes.” She sighed and then looked up. “I’m not going to lie, but since I was allowed to be part of your life, anything was fine.” Helene patted the thick book in her lap. “This is a scrapbook I’ve been putting together for you since the day I had you. I had one of the nurses take pictures of me holding you. I knew that one day I’d be leaving, and I wanted something to remember you by. I’m so happy that I can give you this, so you’ll remember me, too.”

  “I will always remember you, Helene. And when I turn eighteen, I’ll be keeping the road to Montréal hot.” Helene held the scrapbook out for Sam to take, but Sam put a hand out to stop her. “Wait. I have an idea.”

  “What’s that?”

  “How about we meet back here every night and you show me a few pages at a time. That way we can kind of relive my childhood together, but this time...” Sam cleared her throat as emotion choked her up. “But this time we’ll relive it as mother and daughter. Okay?” The last word got caught in her throat as she started crying.

  Helene nodded as the tears rolled down her own cheeks. Sam was the one who supplied the comforting arm that time.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Can I Call You Mom?

  SAM STARED AT her reflection in the lighted makeup mirror. She had already applied a light foundation, but was waiting for Alivia to make her way down the row of performers to finish the job. It was the second Friday in November, the opening night of the play, and Sam was doing her best to keep her nerves under control. Not only was this her first performance as an actual actor on a stage, but it was the first time she would see Lisa in the flesh in over a month. Having a long-distance relationship using only smartphones wasn’t fun, although it had lessened the separation somewhat. They had even managed to use the phones to study together for Sam’s SATs and Lisa’s PSATs. With any luck they could find a way to be together for their six month anniversary on Monday. Not being together for their five-month celebration still weighed heavily on Sam’s mind. Sam wasn’t hopeful, though. Her father hadn’t given any signs of ungrounding her.

  Sam touched the mood ring on her hand. It was green indicating mixed emotions, but Sam smiled anyway. It would turn happy blue the moment she saw Lisa. Oh, God. Lisa would be in the audience. So close. Lisa’s family would be there, too, William and Evelyn included. Sam’s anxiety ratcheted up a notch. Susie and Marlee were coming, and even Sam’s parents would be there—a small miracle.

  Alivia smiled at Sam as she moved closer. “I’ll be with you as soon as I’m done with Karl.”

  “Ha,” Sam said with a devilish grin, “the way I’ve seen you two look at each other, you won’t ever be done with him.” Sam waggled her eyebrows at Alivia and then reached over and smacked Karl on the arm. Alivia and Karl had become an item shortly after the trouble started for Sam at school.

  Sam wouldn’t say the month since her public outing had flown by, because it certainly hadn’t, but at least school had become more bearable. With her friends backing her up, the taunts lessened after the first week. In fact, many of her other classmates found their voices and were friendly and supportive toward her. Every day she found things to look forward to — lunch with her friends, play rehearsals, phone calls with Lisa, and nightly chats with Helene. Sometimes after she left Helene’s apartment and went back to her suite, there would be a text from Lisa waiting for her. Those nights were the best. There was no way her father could stop Lisa from attending the public performances, especially when Lisa planned to be at all four—Friday night, both on Saturday, and the last one on Sunday.

  Alivia tapped Karl on the top of his head when she was done making him up and then sent him a smoldering smile. Sam grinned. She knew the feeling.

  “Are you ready, fiddler?” Alivia swiveled Sam around in her seat.

  “Yes, Golde.”

  Alivia was already in costume for her role as Golde, Tevye’s wife. “Let’s finish getting your makeup on, and then we’ll get your hair tucked under your cap so it won’t come out, okay?”

  “And then you have to put your own make up on.”

  “Yep. There’s plenty of time.” Alivia put her fingertips on Sam’s chin and moved Sam’s head to the left. She brushed a finger along Sam’s eyebrow. “I love this little scar from your car accident. It’s kind of sexy.”

  Sam felt her cheeks get warm. Was Alivia flirting with her? No way. She was straight. And besides, she had Karl.

  Alivia leaned closer and applied the stage makeup to Sam’s cheeks, nose, and forehead. Alivia’s femaleness, so close, made Sam realize how much she missed Lisa. When Alivia turned to put the makeup away, Sam brushed a tear back. She hadn’t known how lonely she had been.

  Alivia turned around. “Okay, let’s lose the ring.”

  Sam looked at the mood ring on her finger and frowned. She didn’t want to take it off. She wanted to see it turn happy blue, but Alivia was right. Fiddlers in the town of Anatevka didn’t wear mood rings. She tugged it off and tucked it into her pants pocket.

  “Are you upset that Mrs. Dickens decided not to have you wear a beard and mustache?” Alivia asked.

  Sam chuckled. “Nah, I think it’s probably better given my, uh, recent foray into marginalization.”

  “An interesting choice of words, Sam. I can see why you and Ronnie feel pushed to the margins of society. The mainstream population isn’t quite ready for you guys. Maybe one day.”

  “I hope it’s in my lifetime.”

  Alivia smiled and nodded thoughtfully. She patted Sam on the shoulder. “Okay, let’s turn you into a fiddler, shall we?” She tacked Sam’s ponytail up on her head with about a thousand bobby pins. Sam’s head felt heavy. “Hand me your cap.”

  Sam reached out and grabbed the dark cap hanging off the edge of the mirror.

  Alivia plunked the cap on Sam’s head and bobby pinned it fast. “Shake your head.”

  Sam shook her head vigorously, and the cap didn’t move. “Feels good.”

  Alivia tapped her on the shoulder. “You, oh fiddler, are all set.”

  Ronnie came bopping into the green room at that moment. “Whoa, look at you,” he said to Sam.

  Sam stood up and smoothed down her long black coat complete with tails. She made sure the prayer shawl stuck out underneath the vest.

  Ronnie grabbed her hand and twirled her around. “You are so butch. Your girlfriend is going to cream when she sees you.”

  “Ronnie!” Sam smacked him in the chest. She glared at him for a moment and then teased back. “Nice beard. Couldn’t grow one on your own, eh?”

  Ronnie made a face and then said, “C’mon.” He grabbed her hand and led her through the maze of hallways. They weaved their way around stored sets and stagehands until they were in the wings of the stage. Ronnie moved the heavy velvet
curtain an inch. “You can see who’s here. Look,” he gushed making room for Sam to look out, “there’s Jordan.”

  “Where?”

  “One, two, three, fourth row.”

  “I see him.”

  “Isn’t he cute?” Ronnie swooned. “It’ll be one month for us on the morrow.”

  “Happy anniversary.”

  “Thanks.” Ronnie was obviously head over heels. There seemed to be a lot of that going around.

  Sam scanned the audience, but couldn’t find Lisa.

  “Don’t worry,” Ronnie said. “She’ll be here. It’s still early.”

  “Am I that transparent?”

  Ronnie nodded. “I’m going back for vocal warm ups. Don’t stay here too long.”

  “I won’t. Thanks, Ronnie.”

  He was gone before she’d finished saying his name.

  Looking out over the filling auditorium, she watched Helene come in and find a seat in the center section. That’s my mother, Sam thought remembering all the softball games, violin recitals, and orchestra concerts Helene had faithfully attended throughout Sam’s childhood. Her other parents had only attended a smattering of them. She remembered the time she and Helene diligently watched every NHL playoff game leading up to the Montréal Canadiens winning the Stanley Cup. She’d never shared anything like that with her other parents. A lot of things were starting to make sense in her head.

  Sam thought it was ironic that ever since she found out Helene was leaving, they were bonding more. Just about every night since her public outing, Sam had gone to Helene’s apartment, and together they looked through the scrapbook or watched hockey games on Helene’s TV.

  That very first night, though, Sam got answers to many of her questions. They had moved from Helene’s kitchen to the couch in the living room, the teacups forgotten on the kitchen table.

  Helene tucked her feet under her at the same time Sam did. They laughed, and Sam said, “I think we’re more alike than I ever realized.”

  “You may be right.”

  “So,” Sam started, “how exactly did you get, uh...” Sam felt her cheeks get warm.