The Truth About Victoria    I would like to dedicate this story to Kari
Eissinger for all her help and encouragement in getting a bashful author
to actually produce something for others to read.

 Story is rated G and all characters except for Madeline are property of
Alliance Communications. THE TRUTH ABOUT VICTORIA 

 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? 

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