Story is rated G and all characters except for Madeline are property of Alliance Communications.
Kimberly A. Klaus
September 22, 2009. Chicago,IL
Dear Diary:
Well, tomorrow I will be thirteen years old, but it's turning out to be a lousy birthday so far. Mom and Dad sprung some news on me today: they are going to be senior instructors at the RCMP training center in Regina, wherever that is, and of course that means having to move. This is not a good time for me,Diary. It's bad enough being the only girl in seventh grade who's less than five feet tall and completely flat-chested; the only thing separating my body from the boys' is a dress. If I didn't have long hair I don't think anyone could tell any difference. But I managed to finally get onto a sports team that being small doesn't matter-in fact, it's preferred, and that is gymnastics. I'm hardly Olympic caliber but it's something fun to do after school. But now we have to move, and I am not thrilled. It won't be a big deal for Robbie (that's my four-year-old brother) he's not in school and so doesn't have any real attachments, but for me it's going to be pure anguish. I've only been to Canada twice since I came to live with my parents when I was four, and didn't care for it either time. They're all worried that Robbie and I will not "grow up Canadian" and I don't see what the big deal is. Neither of them has been there much either since they came to Chicago. But the worst part of this is that Mark Francella(that's Uncle Ray's nephew) has finally started to notice me! As a girl, I mean. I was hoping he'd ask me to the junior high dance in November but I guess if I'm going to be hauled back to the mother ship that isn't going to happen. I'm sorry to sound whiny, Diary, but if I can't complain to you, who can I tell?
My birthday has made me wonder something else. I wonder about who my real mother is. Oh, don't be shocked, Diary. I know Meg isn't my real mother. I love her a lot but-I just know she's not the one who gave birth to me. I never asked about it, and maybe they hope I won't, but I've been thinking about her lately. I have vague memories of a bus ride and a lady with dark hair, and of Daddy calling her "Victoria". As long as I can really remember, I'm Madeline Fraser, daughter of Benton and Margaret (Thatcher) Fraser, both of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. (Did I mention Daddy got promoted to sergeant to get his new position?) But when I look in the mirror, I see someone else in my face, too. I have Daddy's blue eyes and my features are like his, but I'm not built like either of them. If Iwas I might actually be tall...
"Madeline? Lights out now, honey. You'll be a year older tomorrow and you'll need the rest."
I sighed and concluded the diary entry,then hid it in the cedar chest at the foot of my bed.
"Are you ready for me to come tuck you in?"
Actually, I had outgrown the tucking in ritual but I liked to have Mom come in to talk before lights out. The only time she didn't was when she was mad at me about something, and I hated that.
"Sure. Come in."
She sat on my bed."I know we sprung a big surprise on you today, Linny,but I want you to know we did a lot of thinking before we accepted. I know you really like living here, and your dad and I have been here for quite a while ourselves. It's not going to be easy for us, either. But we want you and Robbie to experience and grow up in your home country, especially because in five years you'll be eighteen and you'll have to decide which country you want to be a citizen of."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You're the only one that has dual citizenship. You were born in Alaska so that makes you an American citizen. But because both your parents were Canadian, you are also a Canadian citizen. We want you to be able to make...an informed decision."
"I was born in Alaska? Not Canada?"
She looked a little uncomfortable. "Well, I think you've known for a while-on your own-that I'm not your real mother. You came to live with your dad and I when you were four; at the time we thought we couldn't have any children of our own, so we adopted you. Well, let me tell you this, your dad is your biological father. But I am not your biological mother."
"Do you know who she was?"
Mom bit her lip; I could understand why she might feel bad about telling me.
"Mom, I'm not going to run away and go looking for her."
"That's good, because she's not living. Her name was Victoria, Linny, and that's really all I know about her. She and Daddy were- once very close.."
"Obviously," I said a little saucily.
"Anyway, she went away without telling your dad that she was going to have you. Then when you were four years old-Dad and I had been married about two years-she came one day with you in tow and asked us to take you because she was dying of cancer. She died shortly after that, and we adopted you officially and here you are."
I could see she was telling me the truth, but I could sense that somehow she wasn't telling me everything. I shrugged it off mentally and asked,
"So, when do you plan on tearing me away from everything I hold dear and effectively ruin my life?"
"You always had a flair for the overdramatic, Madeline. I have something else to tell you, but that can wait until we take you out to dinner tomorrow night for your birthday. "
"Mom, why did you wait so long to tell me about her?"
"Because...well, I think of you as mine, darling, and I want you to feel that you are completely our daughter. I guess I was afraid...afraid of what you would think if you knew for certain. I didn't know how much you remembered and we knew we'd have to tell you eventually, but we thought now was the right time to tell you. But like I said,I think you've known for a long time anyway."
I sighed."I can look in the mirror and know. I look like him a little and not at all like you, and you both are tall and I'm a shrimp. I don't suppose you have a picture of her."
"No," Mom said a little sharply, and I looked at her with surprise.
I guessed I'd better not push it, so I said hastily,"But that's okay." She relented then. "Well, get some sleep now, Linny, and tomorrow is your big day." She kissed me goodnight and left the room, but needless to say sleep was something I didn't get much of that night. I lay awake thinking about me, about my family, about the woman I barely remembered named Victoria. What was the story between her and Daddy? Why had they never married? Most of all, why did they never talk about her? I had friends who had been adopted and sometimes we would talk; most of them knew who their birth parents were, whether they had been orphaned , adopted from a unwed mother, whatever; some had been adopted when their mothers remarried. My case was unique though, at least in my circle of friends.
I would have a birthday party on Saturday, but my parents took me out to dinner that night (thankfully they found a sitter for Robbie) and we went to this really neat restaurant atop a high building that actually revolved slowly, giving you a panoramic view of the Windy City. Frivolously I wondered what would happen if someone would crank the speed up really fast. That would be a sight to see...
"Madeline? Are you listening?"
"Uh, no , sorry, Daddy. I was thinking."
"Ah. Well, listen, honey, we will be leaving for Regina within the next three weeks..."
My heart sank, but just as quickly buoyed up again as he continued to speak.
"....but rather than uproot you in the middle of the school year, we've made arrangements with Ray and Angela for you to stay with them until the Christmas holidays. That will see you through your gymnastics schedule and give us time to get settled in and enroll you in another school up there. But after that...it's time to come home and no argument. Understood?"
"Understood," I said happily.
They looked at each other; apparently I acted a little too over joyed for their satisfaction.
"We'll miss you, of course, but this will make the transition a little less rocky for you."
"Besides, you guys have had me around all the time for the last nine years. You could use a break."
"You can stay with us as long as we're alive, Madeline, that's not why we're doing this. Like I said, we thought we'd ease you into the change."
"Thank you, both of you. I mean it."
After dinner they gave me my present-a beautiful little gold bracelet with my name engraved on it and set with a tiny diamond on either side, one in front of the "M" and one after the last "E".
"That's the main gift- you'll get some other little things at your party on Saturday. There's writing on the underside, too." It read For our beloved daughter on her 13th 09/23/09.
"It's beautiful.Thank you so much."I hugged and kissed both of them and slipped it on my wrist. It slid almost up to my elbow, my arm was so puny.
Things moved pretty fast after that; Mom's replacement arrived at the consulate a week later; she and Dad made a weekend visit up to Regina to make settlement on the house they had purchased for us to live in; two days before they were to leave for the new place, we moved out of the apartment and crowded in with Ray and Angie at the Vecchio homestead. Actually, it wasn't so crowded anymore. Ma Vecchio had died a year ago, and Francesca married Constable Turnbull and they had their own place, and Tony and Maria had finally (gasp!) gotten their own place to live. So it was just Ray, Angie, and their two sons; Michael was nine-and-a-half and Ben (named for Dad) was six. It had been a sad day for us six months ago when old Diefenbaker died; we buried him in the pet cemetery at St. Michael's. (It was the first time I had ever seen Daddy cry. We all did. )
Ray andAngie threw a big farewell party for our family the night before three of the four of us were to leave; there must have been a hundred people there-friends Dad and Mom had made over the years,people they had become very fond of. It hadn't occurred to me til tonight that it might be hard for them to leave, too.
Early the next morning, Ray crowded all of us into the family van (he still had the Riv but it wasn't fit to drive) and took us to the airport where Mom, Dad , and Robbie would catch the plane that would take them to Regina. I stood there with a lump in my throat that wouldn't go up and wouldn't go down, and suddenly wished I was going with them. Dad came to me to give me a good bye hug and saw I was about three seconds from the waterworks bursting, and drew me close and said softly,"We'll wait for you if you want to go back and get your things."
I shook my head and gulped,"N-no. After all the fuss I made..."
"Linny, that doesn't matter. You can come with us right now."
He hardly ever called me by the short form of my name, only when I needed comforting, and that did it. I started crying in earnest. All of a sudden Christmas sounded an eternity away and all I wanted was to be with my family.
I heard Ray say, "Want me to see if there's a seat left on this flight?"
My head was buried against Dad's belly (I was so short that's all the farther I could reach) and I just nodded mutely. Mom returned from taking Robbie to the restroom and looked at us, and Dad said,"She changed her mind."
"Glory be,"Mom said, and Robbie jumped up and down with excitement. The excitement was short-lived however; their flight was booked and they were expected in Regina the next day. There wasn't going to be another flight up for a week-and of course that was booked, too. The best the airline could do was put me on standby for next week and book me a definite seat for the week after that. In the meantime, I could finish up any outstanding school projects, compete in the big fall meet, and say goodbye to my friends.
"If you change your mind again,I'm going to choke you,"Mom told me sternly, then hugged me close."But thank God you did. I was beginning to think you didn't care if you were with us or not."
Their flight left right on time, but as I waved good bye it was a lot easier knowing I'd see them in three weeks instead of three months. And I knew in my heart I'd done the right thing. But in the meantime, I had a lot to accomplish.
Mom and Dad and Robbie left on a Sunday, and the next day I was back in school. I told everyone that I would be joining my parents before Christmas after all, and I went to each teacher asking what projects I needed to finish to get credit for the first half of the school year. By the time I got to Sister Kate Marie for history, I already had to read and do a ten-page report on Great Expectations, finish up to chapter 11 in my pre-algebra book, and have a collection of at least twenty specimens of insects for science. So I was already totally boggled down by the time I got to her.
"I had a project I was going to assign just before Thanksgiving, but you'll be gone by then so I'll assign it to everyone now. That way it'll be over with well before the holidays. We'll just study the causes of World War II later instead of sooner. I'll announce it in class tomorrow."
That evening I had two hours of gymnastics practice, did two chapters of pre-algebra , and managed to catch, but almost bitten by, a grasshopper, a cockroach, two kinds of spiders, a cricket, and a ladybug. And this just in Ray's old car.
The next afternoon Sister Kate Marie announced the project. "What you're going to do , class, is to report on a major event that occurred here in Chicago in the year that you were born..."
"But we can't remember anything that happened when we were babies."This from Arnold Frobnitz, who has been in seventh grade three times and is the school big mouth and bully.
"Very true, Arnold. But the wonderful world of modern technology has found a way to preserve what has happened in the past. It's called microfilm. There are three libraries within five miles of here all of which have local newspapers on microfilm as far back as the 1800s. It can be on any major event that occurred between 1995 and 1996 which is when most of you were born, as long as you have two full pages and at least two sources. This handout will explain the particulars, and I'll take questions AFTER we have read the instructions together."
Gymnastics practice was cancelled that night because our coach got the flu, so I asked Angie to take me to the library so I could get started on the project.
"That's fine. And by lucky coincidence, Sister Kate announced the same project in the eighth grade class so I told Maria that I would take Mark over to the library as well since the new baby has colic. You two can study and then maybe we'll pick up a pizza on the way home." My heart did a little flip flop. Mark really was so good looking, and so nice. I'd seen him in a tux when Francesca got married last summer and he looked like something off the cover of GQ. I ran upstairs and changed into my new blue jumpsuit I'd gotten for my birthday and put my hair up. I studied my reflection. I looked like a ten-year-old no matter what I did. I wondered wildly whether I should stuff my bra (or what passed for one) then just shook my head and ran downstairs so I wouldn't keep Angie waiting.
Mark was wearing jeans and a Bulls sweatshirt and didn't look any less gorgeous than he had in a tux. He grinned at me and chatted casually about this and that during the whole drive; I was too nervous to do more than nod and smile like a moron.
Angie dropped us off in front of the Chicago Public Library and said, "OK, you two , you be waiting out front in exactly two hours. And behave yourselves."
"Ok, Aunt Angie," Mark said easily, and opened the car door on my side for me.
"Th-thank you kindly," I stammered, and turned as bright red as my parents' dress uniforms.
"Red suits you," Mark said, trying to lighten me up, but it only made me more self-conscious. Come on, Madeline Pinsent Fraser, snap out of it and quit acting like a moron.
I almost ran up the steps and squeaked,"Do you know where the microfilm room is?"
"Oh, sure. Sister Kate is big on these kind of projects. It's no big deal. I brought a bunch of dimes in case we need to print anything off the machine. It used to be a nickel but the prices went up because the machines keep breaking down."
"So let's hope the copies turn out the first time."
He took me to a room full of tall gray cabinets. "This is the Chicago Tribune here, and over there is the Sun-Times and Daily Herald. The indexes are here, grouped under topics...here's the cum index for 1994-1996. This is what we want." He dropped the heavy book on the desk with a thump. "This same information is on the computers but they're always jammed, usually it's quicker just to look stuff up here. So look through this and see if there's a news story that suits you and falls in the right year. I'll look in 1994 because that's my birth year, and you can start with this one-November 1995 to November 1996. You were born in September '96, right?"
"Right," I said, pleased that he remembered.
I scanned the long lists of topics-everything from the Pillsbury Bake-Off finals winner from Chicago to a plane crash out on Lake Michigan. I flipped through the book and came to the topics under CRIME-now this was a really long list. I ran my finger down til I came to ROBBERY- DIAMONDS. A brief summary followed it"Twenty million in diamonds stolen in December 1995. It then gave the dates and issues of the Tribune in which the story had been covered.
"Mark, here's one about twenty million dollars' worth of diamonds stolen. I bet there's two pages worth of coverage there. December 1995."
"Ok, I'll help you get the film loaded, and I'll keep looking for something good."
"I saw one about the winner of the Pillsbury Bake-Off you could do," I teased.
"You mean the Pillsbury Bore-Off. Here you go-December 1995. The machines are over here."
He showed me how to work the machine, then went back to the indexes to find an article of comparable interest. I checked the citation from the information I'd jotted down; the robbery had gotten nearly a full week of front page coverage. I loaded the reel on to the machine (upside down the first time), then cranked the reel slowly, scanning each page until I saw the "teaser": MILLIONS IN DIAMONDS STOLEN:EX-CON IS SUSPECTED. It was dated December 18,1995. There was a photograph in the center of the column of a young woman with long dark hair,very beautiful, but with an expression on her face that can only be described as a smirk. The caption read:VICTORIA METCALFE, SUSPECT IN ROBBERY. I felt very strange all of a sudden, very stuffed and strange. Except for the dark hair, the woman looked alarmingly like me. And her name was Victoria.
No, Madeline, you're being stupid. People never look like their pictures; you're just imagining things. Until I read the ensuing article.
Victoria Helen Metcalfe, 31, of Fairbanks, Alaska , but Canadian by nationality, is the alleged robber in a heist that resulted in nearly $20 million in diamonds slated for a shipment to Harry Winston's Jewelers in California.....
I scanned the rest of the article in haste, then two familiar names caught my eye. My heart slowed to dull, heavy thuds as I read: While pursuing the suspect to the train station where she was allegedly making her escape, Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP and deputy liaison officer at the Canadian Consulate here in Chicago, was shot in error by Police Detective Raymond Vecchio, who was there to allegedly attempt to capture Miss Metcalfe and recover the stolen goods...
It can't be. It couldn't be coincidence that my father's former love and this bank robber were the one and the same Victoria. December 1995: I was born in September 1996. Exactly nine months.
Suddenly ill, I jumped up and ran to the bathroom and was sick for a few minutes. Then I sank down by the toilet bowl and began to cry. My mother was a bank robber! That was what my parents were trying to keep me from finding out. But what in the world was my law-and-order father doing being in love with a criminal? Sure, she looked to be very pretty, but Dad was so careful about seeing to it the law was enforced...
let himself fall for a woman who apparently had not committed only one crime.
I washed up as best I could, and returned to my seat, wobbling slightly as I walked. Mark took one look at my face and asked,"Geez, what happened,Linny? Did you come across a really sad story?"
"You might say that," I said softly. "I'm okay,Mark."
He didn't look convinced, but didn't press the point. I didn't mention it to him; I borrowed enough dimes to print off the articles relating to the robbery, then concealed the roll of film in the drawers covering the 1930's. I put the articles in my notebook, then quickly found a couple stories dealing with that plane crash on Lake Michigan. I resolved to say nothing to anyone about what I had learned; it was something I would have to discuss with Daddy-alone.
Over the next couple weeks, everyone could tell there was something weighing heavy on my mind; as much as I loved Ray and Angie I just couldn't tell them. They might understand but only Dad could supply the answers I needed.
I finished all the projects on time and received A's on all of them; I didn't do nearly so well in the gymnastics meet-I placed sixth out of fifteen-but that didn't bother me so much. All I could think about was Victoria Metcalfe; her face haunted me every minute. The night before I was to leave for Regina to join my family, I dreamed about Victoria; I dreamed that I was running through a field of daffodils, crying out, "Mommy,Mommy! Wait! Wait!"She appeared before me in a long white dress, smiling at me, holding out her hand to me, but continuing to move rapidly away from me.
"Mommy!" I sobbed. "Mommy, please wait! Don't leave me!"
"Come to me, Madeline! Grab my hand, darling! Come to me!" But I couldn't catch her. I was too small and my legs too short to catch her; she disappeared into a wood and soon I was lost...totally lost and alone...
I woke up screaming. Ray and Angie both came into the room; they were both still up downstairs watching a late movie.
"What's the matter, Linny? Bad dream?" Angie sat on the bed to comfort me. I shook my head. "Y-yes... but I don't remember what it was that scared me."
"That scream sure scared the bejeebers out of me," Ray said with mock disgust, but the concern was plain in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, you guys. I didn't mean to scare you. I'll be okay."
"All right. You have an early flight tomorrow-today-so try to get some sleep."
I left at nine the next morning; I kept the folder with the articles in it tight in my grasp; if the airline managed to lose my luggage during the flight to Regina I didn't want anyone to find those pieces of paper. The night before, Mark and I had exchanged addresses, and he gave me goodbye gift- a bottle of my favorite sparkling cider.
"I wish you were staying," he said."I was going to ask you to the dance in November. You're the nicest girl I've ever known-and the prettiest."
My face turned bright red again-darn, I hated that!-and I gave him a big hug.
The plane landed at twelve-ten; the family was all there and I was so glad to see them I almost forgot about my depression over my discovery. Almost.
I didn't get a chance to speak to Dad alone until a couple days later; the first few days I was busy getting settled into my new room and finding out where everything was and where my school would be. My chance came when Mom was teaching an evening session and my little brother was spending the evening with a buddy of his, the son of another Mountie at the center.
The two of us went riding, out and away from the post; it was very beautiful up there and I wondered why I had ever thought I would hate to live here. But I knew I wouldn't actually enjoy anything until we'd had The Talk.
"Dad, I need to talk to you about something. Can we stop for a few minutes?"
"Of course," he said. We pulled up and made ourselves comfortable on the grass in a small grove of trees. Dad was forty-four now, but looked thirty-two. He hadn't started to gray yet or put on any extra weight. He still wore the same size uniform as he had when he first graduated from the RCMP academy.
"So what's on your mind?" he asked me. I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the now-crumpled sheets of paper and handed them to him. He opened them and scanned them briefly, then looked up at me with pain in his eyes.
"Daddy- is that the same Victoria who is my mother?"
He was quiet for a long moment. "Yes. She's your mother."
I swallowed hard. "I found the articles when I was doing a project for my history class. I saw the picture and sort of knew then, but it confirmed itself when I read that you were involved. It said you were shot pursuing her to the train station. Were you trying to keep her from getting away."
He looked off at the horizon."No. I was going to go with her."
I stared at him in amazement."You were WHAT?"
"It's a long story, darling, but if you want to hear it, I'm willing to tell it."
It took him about half an hour to tell me the whole story, from Fortitude Pass to that night at the train station. I listened without interruption. He looked at me. "She possessed me like-like a bewitchment. I don't know why I reacted to her the way I did, Madeline. I've wondered why since. I loved her with all my heart and soul-but she did not love me, at least not the way I loved her. She used my guilt over her imprisonment to get me to perform like a puppet on a string- so muc so that I was willing to throw away everything I believed in and push away everyone I loved for her sake, just to be with her. And if Ray hadn't have accidentally shot me, I would have gone with her. She probably would have destroyed me,too." I looked at him, then said with a wry smile, "Sucker."
He nodded regretfully. "That sums it up pretty well. Then, four years later, after I married Meg Thatcher, she showed up one day with a beautiful four-year-old in tow and told me that the little girl was my daughter. My love for Victoria had died long since- Meg was the only woman in my life now-but you-you I could not turn away. We told you the truth when we said Victoria was dying of cancer. What we didn't tell you was that the morning after she brought you to me, she committed suicide to spare you the pain of watching her die.
"At the time, Meg and I thought we couldn't have children of our own, and it was a real struggle for her to accept you. But that's long past and she loves you as deeply as I do, even though she did not give birth to you. We never told you about Victoria for two reasons: first, we wanted you to feel completely accepted and loved and wanted in this family. The second reason is that Victoria told me never to tell you about her past. You were the first person she ever loved completely and truly, Madeline. You changed her from a selfish person to a selfless one. That was someting I couldn't do-and something you accomplished just by being born. The last thing she said to me was: "I want Madeline to remember me as Mommy, not as a criminal.' We knew the truth would hurt you, and I'm sorry you ever had to learn the truth. But you were the one good and beautiful thing that came out of a very painful time for both of us. I wouldn't trade you for anything in the world, and there's nothing you could do that would end my love for you-or your adopted mother's. " He reached out and smoothed my hair, and used his thumb to brush the tears from my cheeks. He took the papers, took a match from his pocket, struck it and set fire to the papers, which were quickly consumed to a cinder.
"So that's how you should remember her, Linny. Not as Victoria Metcalfe the robber-but Victoria Metcalfe the mother who put her daughter before herself and made sure her last act was to put her daughter where she would be loved and cared for always. And she will be too."
I threw my arms around him and kissed his cheek. "I love you,Daddy."
"And I love you, darling. Come on-we should be heading back before it gets dark. Your mother will be worried if we aren't back when they are."
"Race ya," I shouted, and gave the horse's side a kick. We galloped off in a cloud of dust, father and daughter in feeling as well as in blood. Because after all, that's what family is-blood ties and love-bonds.
Now how's that for a happy-while corny-ending?