This week marks the conclusion of our original short novel, Forgotten Promise. Let us know what you thought, and if you would like to see this type of feature in the Voice again.

We are still seeking student fiction for our upcoming fiction column. Send your stories, poems, plays, or any other short fiction to voice@ausu.org

Conclusion

Light was filtering through. “So what did you find out?” she asked.

Laura smiled back. His charm was infectious. Now all she had to do was get through the next few hours till supper.

As she returned to her ward, she thought, “Should I phone Adam?”. The remembrance of last night overwhelmed her. Maybe it would be better to wait; he might think it was just an excuse to call. But then she paused and looked inside herself. So what if it was an excuse? She really wanted, needed to hear the reassuring warmth of his deep voice. Unhesitatingly, she stopped at the nearest pay phone and dialed his number.

“Hi, Adam, it’s me”, she stated breathlessly. There was a short pause. Maybe he didn’t know her voice? Her heart plummeted. Then he spoke, “I was just thinking about you. How are you, Laura?”

“Great! I mean, good. I’m at work.” She stopped, suddenly shy and fumbling for words.

“I know. I was waiting till you got home to call you. I’m hoping to see you tonight.” The seductive tone in his voice made her knees weak.

“I . . Uh, Adam. I mean, yes, I would like to see you too. But first I have to tell you my wonderful news.” Quickly she explained what Aaron had found out, and that they were meeting Mrs. Murray for supper after work. Adam didn’t seem to be paying attention to what she was saying. Then he interrupted, questioning, “Aaron? Who’s Aaron?”

Adam, jealous? Choosing her words carefully, she explained who Aaron was, and how he had been helping her. The new, tenuous bond between them didn’t need any further tests right now. Adam seemed mollified by her words. He hesitated, then asked, “Would you like me to join you at dinner?”

Laura was silent for a moment, turning over possibilities, then discarding them. “Much as I would love your company, I really think it would be best if I went alone, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to intimidate Mrs. Murray, it’s too important that she remember what she can. But can we meet after, and I’ll tell you all about it?” She felt weak in anticipation of being near him again.

“You’re probably right, it’s best to do it this way. And yes, of course we can meet. I’m having dinner with mother. Would you like to join us there after?”

Laura agreed and said a hurried goodbye, realizing that she was going to be late getting back.

All through that afternoon, in spite of her eager anticipation, she felt guilty pangs each time she crossed paths with Aaron. He kept giving her that conspiratorial look. It worried her that he knew nothing of Adam. While she didn’t really think his intentions towards her were serious, he deserved to know that there was another man in her life. To allow him any misconceptions about where she stood emotionally would be unfair. Laura made up her mind to speak to him before they left for dinner.

He was waiting for her when she came to the front door, and gave her a brief hug. “Well, let’s hope for the best!” he exclaimed, as he led her to his car. As soon as they were settled, she spoke. “Aaron, There’s something I should have told you before. My daughter … well, she has a father”, she finished quite lamely.

“Of course she does!” He responded jauntily, then noticing her discomfort, changed his tone. “Her father : he’s here in Edmonton?”

“Yes. I’ve been : I mean, he’s been helping me. We’ve been working together to try and find her. He didn’t know anything about it until I came here”, she offered, hoping to ease the explanation. “The thing is, he’s married. I mean, he’s getting a divorce, but it’s nothing to do with me.” She broke off. ‘Ha! liar liar’ her heart chanted. ‘It’s everything to do with you’. She continued, “I should have told you. I’m sorry, it didn’t really seem to matter before.”

They had pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, but Aaron made no move to get out of the car. Then he turned and looked closely at her. “You still love him.” he stated. All she could manage was a small nod. He didn’t say anything for a moment, then reached over, placed his hand under her chin and gently turned her face towards him, smiling reassuringly.

“I knew there was some reason that the famous ‘Grant- charm-that-sends-maidens-swooning’ seemed to have no affect on you! He must be really something for you to pass up a golden opportunity like me!” His mocking words effectively hid any other emotion he might be feeling and Laura was forced to smile back.

“You really are wonderful, Aaron. And the best friend I could ever hope to have. Thank you.”

“I am your friend. Remember that, O.K.?” at her nod he released her and opened the door. “Well – let’s go for it!”

Mrs. Murray was already waiting in the bar when they entered the restaurant. She proved to be a tall, well-endowed, motherly woman, whose Irish heritage became immediately apparent the moment she spoke,

“Well, and it’s a pleasure to meet you I’m sure. The good doctor told me all about you, and I’m looking forward to helping anyway I can. Of course, I canna give you any confidential hospital information, just what’s in my memory.” Her smile was warm and friendly, and Laura felt even more hopeful.

However, information was not that easily obtained. Mrs. Murray loved to talk. It seemed apparent that she was going to thoroughly enjoy dinner with them before she allowed any important tidbits to escape her memory. Laura was frustrated at first, but then resigned herself to the fact that it was a small price to pay for valuable information.

Mrs. Murray reminisced about many things, and the thousands of babies she had seen. She spoke of her four grown children and her two grandchildren, and all of their accomplishments. It didn’t seem necessary for Laura or Aaron to speak – Mrs. Murray had the floor and was milking every minute. She was also enjoying the supper, attacking the food and wine with relish. Aaron caught Laura’s eye and winked at one point. Patience!

Finally the waiter brought coffee, and Mrs. Murray stopped for breath. She smiled at their expectant faces. “Well now, children, I know you want to pick my brain.” She turned to Laura. “If anyone ever tried to separate me from one of my children, to be sure I would kill. So ask me what you want to know.”

Laura glanced at Aaron, and he plunged right in. “Mrs. Murray, on April 7, 1987 Laura had a daughter, born in Vancouver General Hospital. As near as we can determine, the baby was transferred here, possibly three or four weeks later, after having been adopted by a single woman who lived here in Edmonton. Do you remember ever visiting a baby that might fit that description?”

Mrs. Murray apparently was lost in thought for a moment. Then she began to speak. “I think the reason it stuck in my mind was, first of all, it was unusual for a single woman to adopt a baby. Most went to couples. Also, the baby coming from Vancouver was, not rare but uncommon. I remember it was around the May long weekend. I was thinking I had to get my garden planted that weekend; you know I always compare babies to planting a garden. The darlin’s are like little plants that we have to nurture and guide so they grow straight and strong.” She seemed to notice Laura’s restlessness suddenly, and made an effort to get to the point. “Anyhow, I went to visit on Friday afternoon. I canna remember the lady’s name. I’ve tried, but it just doesn’t come to me.” She glanced apologetically at Laura.

“That’s alright. Please tell us what you remember.” Laura tried not to show her impatience.

“Well now, I remember thinking, as I drove up to the house, that this baby had the luck ‘o the Irish! Her adoptive mother was obviously verry rich. A beautiful house, with a view of the river valley. And the inside! When I walked into the door it took my breath away.” She seemed to realize she was becoming sidetracked again. “Well then, when I met the baby’s mother, I was surprised. She wasn’t young. I didna’ think they allowed adoptions to older women. Well the baby was beautiful and healthy. Everything was as it should be. There was another woman there too, a younger one. She said verra little until I was ready to leave. Then she said something to the older lady that made me think that the younger lady was mistress of the house and the older lady just worked for her. I thought that was strange, too. But it looked like the baby would be well taken care of, she had a lovely room, and it looked like no expense would be spared, so I figured it would be O.K.” Then she stopped.

Both Aaron and Laura looked at her expectantly, but she didn’t speak again, just sat with a faraway look in her eyes, a half-smile on her lips.

Laura prompted her, “Is that all you remember?”

Mrs. Murray broke out of her reverie. “The only other thing I remember is the babe’s name. It stuck in my mind because it was the name I gave my youngest daughter.” Again she paused, irritatingly.

“What was the baby’s name, Mrs. Murray?” Aaron prompted, trying to control his frustration.

“Melanie. Her name was Melanie.”

A sudden buzzing filled Laura’s head. Could it be possible? No. Adam wouldn’t do something like that. But wait. It wasn’t Adam. Vicki? Was she capable of such a thing? Laura knew the answer. The shattered pieces of her life began to fall into place. She jumped up from the table. “I must go. I have to .. I have to. I can’t believe it!” was all she could say.

“Laura, wait!” exclaimed Aaron. Let me take you where you have to go!” He threw several bills on the table and quickly reassured Mrs. Murray, “It seems you’ve been a great help. Thank you. Please take care of the bill for me.”

He then rushed off after Laura, leaving behind a curious, bemused Mrs. Murray.

He caught up with her outside the restaurant. She was standing there in dazed confusion when he grabbed her arm. “Laura, whatever it is, I’m here. I’m your friend, remember. Let me help you.”

She turned to him blankly. Then her eyes cleared and she seemed to recognize him. “Please take me to Adam”, was all she could whisper.

He managed to get an address out of her before she lapsed into dead silence. He drove as quickly as he dared, afraid of the way Laura was reacting. What could have put her into this state of shock?

Laura was, indeed in a state of shock, but not in a medical sense. It was the clear revelation of the truth that had left her stunned. In her mind she continued to piece evidence together. Her parent’s sudden, easy departure from Edmonton. The money, the trust fund. Her father’s last words. The house in the river valley. Vicki’s threat to Adam. The easy way the adoption was handled. Money was involved of course. Money. It always came back to money. Adam had sold out to Vicki. Her parents had sold her baby. No, they did it out of love. Love. Then she thought of Melanie. Melanie – that beautiful little girl was hers. Hers and Adam’s.

Melanie’s grandmother suddenly intruded into her thoughts. No, Melanie’s adoptive grandmother. No wonder she had seemed afraid of Laura. The picture. Who had sent the picture? How could Adam have not known anything? Was he in on this, with Vicki, using Laura? Immediately she was ashamed of her foolish suspicions. He was a victim, just as she was. Melanie was a victim. Laura hoped that her young life had been happy. Had her “grandmother” been good to her? She had seemed sharp and angry at Safeway. Why was Melanie so quiet and withdrawn? Laura’s heart contracted painfully. “Oh, baby”, she promised, “I’ll do everything in my power to make up to you what you’ve missed.” Adam. Adam had been good to Melanie. Had it been some primeval instinct, telling his subconscious the truth? Perhaps. But whatever reason, Laura gave a prayer of thanks. Adam had been good to Melanie. Adam and his mother. And now, she and Adam would make things right.

Aaron squealed up in front of Mrs. Jacob’s house, prompting someone to look out the window. Laura opened the door, then turned back to Aaron. He really was her friend. “Thank you Aaron. I can’t begin to tell you what you’ve done. Thank you.”

With that she ran towards the house, where the door was already open, Adam waiting for her, framed by the light. She ran into the strong circle of his arms and as he drew her inside, started to incoherently stammer the story. Somehow, as her words tumbled over each other frantically, he understood. She felt his embrace stiffen in tightly controlled rage as comprehension dawned. “The bitch.” Was all he said. “The evil, wicked, bitch.”

He released Laura gently and headed for the front door. Fortunately his mother had retained her senses. “Stop, Adam!”, she ordered. “You can’t just storm in there and grab Melanie. You have to do things the right way. Legally she has been adopted. God knows, she may have affection for the woman who pretended to be her grandmother. You can’t traumatize her in your anger. And you must deal with Vicki; successfully break any hold she might have over you. You’ve waited this long, a few more hours won’t make a difference. Let’s plan this properly.”

The flame in Adam’s eyes calmed at his mother’s words. She was right, of course. So they sat down and in mutual shock and disbelief, planned the best course of action. None of them wanted to put into words what they felt inside. It was too incredibly unbelievable. That Vicki could have done this, right under their noses, so to speak! But their shock was tempered by another emotion. The search was over. Melanie had been found. Now they had to make sure they never lost her again.

Finally it was decided that Adam would call his partner, Jerry, and take him along as an impartial witness, unknown to Vicki if possible. His confirmation of the confession they hoped Vicki would make would go a long way in any conceivable court action. Much as Laura wanted to go along, she realized the wisdom of her staying put.

Adam’s main concern was how to get Vicki to admit what she had done. “If I confront her, she’ll just deny it, and we have no proof.” He rubbed his forehead with his hand in frustration. “There has to be a way!”

“Why don’t you appeal to her ego?” Mrs. Jacob’s suggested gently. “Compliment her on her cleverness. Act like you know all the details. Bluff her.”

Adam’s eyes lit up. “You’re right, mother. I think that will work! But I’ll make sure Agnes is there as well. Then I can watch her reaction too.”

“Agnes?” Laura looked questioningly at him.

“Melanie’s grand : I mean, adoptive grandmother. We still don’t know how she fits in. But she has been working for Vicki since Vicki was a baby, and I don’t doubt that her loyalty would lead her to any extreme for Vicki’s sake.”

By now it was past nine, and time suddenly became of the essence. Adam called Jerry, and in hushed tones briefly explained the situation and what he needed from him. It was arranged to meet in front of the house in 15 minutes.

Adam embraced Laura once, tightly, confidently. Then he kissed her hard. “We’ll win this together, love. I promise.” Then he was gone, leaving her watching helplessly at the front door as he roared away. There was nothing left to do but wait.

Mrs. Jacobs was a silent support in the hour that followed. Nothing needed to be said, for it was plainly written in their hearts. They drank cup after cup of tea, and minutes began to seem endless. Laura took to pacing, running to the window at the sound of any passing car. “What could be happening?” She wondered. But her confidence and trust in Adam kept her sane. He would handle it. He would be successful.

When the telephone shrilled shortly after eleven, both Laura and Mrs. Jacobs nearly jumped out of their skins. Laura ran for the phone, Mrs. Jacobs beside her. “Yes? Adam?”

His voice sounded strange, strangled. “Laura. They’re all gone.”

“What do you mean, they’re all gone?” she demanded. She looked up at Mrs. Jacobs, fear in her eyes.

Then he explained as quickly as possible what had happened. “Everything went as planned. Vicki’s ego got the better of her, and she taunted me, laughed at me for what she had done. She admitted that her father had paid your father to leave. She admitted that together they had set up the trust fund. She wasn’t going to accept responsibility for Melanie, though, until I dragged Agnes in. When she tried to put everything on Agnes, the woman got angry. Agnes told the rest of the story and confirmed what we believed. Then I called Jerry in, and Vicki realized he had heard everything. She just went crazy, screaming at us. In the middle of this Agnes got up and stormed out, yelling that she was leaving permanently. I ran after her and asked, ‘what about Melanie?’ She yelled, ‘What about her? The kid’s been a bloody nuisance. Keep her!’ And then she was gone.”

His voice broke a little, but he continued, “When I came back to the front room, Vicki was gone too. But worst of all, when I went to look for Melanie, she was gone. It looks like all the screaming woke her up. None of us noticed, but she must have been in the next room listening. I don’t know how much she heard, but her coat and shoes are gone. She’s run away.” The last words were spoken in a choked voice, as if he was crying. By this time Laura was close to tears as well.

“We’ll be right there”, she assured him, glancing at Mrs. Jacobs’ nod of agreement.

“Jerry and I are going to search the grounds first. Hurry.” The connection was broken, and Laura and Mrs. Jacobs lost no time in getting on their way.

As they drove, Laura explained what had happened. Mrs. Jacobs gasped audibly when Laura relayed Agnes’s cruel words about Melanie, and her lips tightened in anger. A few minutes later they were in Adam’s driveway. He came around from behind the house and enveloped both of them in a hug.

Laura pulled away. “I’ve thought of somewhere I believe Melanie might be, Adam. The park where I first met her. She said she liked to go there. It’s not far – I think we should try there first.” Laura didn’t want to voice the terror she felt in her heart at the thought of her little girl lost somewhere in the dark, at the mercy of whoever might come along. It was late, and the river valley was a dark haven for anyone lurking with evil intent.

“Let’s go then”. They wasted no time, the car in gear and moving as they jumped inside.

Minutes later, they were at the edge of the park. The three of them ran past the rim of trees to the open area where the playground was. Laura almost cried out in relief when she saw the small, forlorn figure sitting on the swings. She was going to run on, but thought better of it. “Oh, Adam. She must be so confused and frightened. We have to be careful.”

Mrs. Jacobs nodded. “I’ll wait here. Adam you go along first. She is comfortable with you. And Laura you go too. She’s your daughter.”

So Adam slowly approached Melanie, making lots of noise so as not to startle her. Laura lagged several feet behind. When he was almost in front of the little girl, he crouched down to his knees. Melanie refused to look up.

“Melanie”, he spoke softly, “I’ve come to take you home.”

After what seemed an eternity, Melanie slowly looked up into his face. Laura still hung back, afraid of saying or doing something that might alienate her child.

“Adam?” Melanie’s voice was very small. “Was it true what she said?” There was a small, angry emphasis on the word “she”.

Adam kept his gaze steadily locked with Melanie’s. “Yes, Melanie. Everything “she” said was true. But what your :,” his voice choked at the word, “grandmother : said. It wasn’t true. She loves you very much.”

Melanie looked down again, then shook her head slowly. “No, I don’t think she does. But : I don’t care.” Her small chin quivered, then she shyly peeked up at Adam again. “I … I always used to pretend you were my real father.” A stray tear rolled down her cheek as she tried to smile a little.

Adam could stand it no longer. He leaned forward and pulled the small form into his arms. She hesitated a moment, then her tiny arms reached around his neck, her cheek pressed tightly against his, his back heaving in silent sobs. Tears flowed freely down Laura’s face as she stood apart, unwilling to intrude.

Finally Adam released Melanie and stood up. He took her small hand in his and said, “Come, Melanie.” Then he turned towards Laura.

Melanie was leaning close, trustingly to Adam, her hand tight in his. Then she turned to face Laura as well. Slowly, tentatively, she reached out her other hand towards Laura. Laura took hesitant, stumbling steps towards her daughter, then clasped the small, cold hand into her own. She looked up through her tears to meet the eyes of her beloved Adam. He blinked back the wetness in his own eyes and smiled lovingly at her.

“Let’s all go home.” His voice pulled her towards his embrace. The three of them stood close, holding on to each other for a moment. Then they turned towards the rim of trees where Mrs. Jacobs waited patiently.

At last Laura spoke. “Yes, Adam.” She paused and again they locked eyes in a silent embrace. “Let’s all go home.”

The End

We hope you have enjoyed this Voice original short novel by Carla Johnson. If you have any poems, short stories, or other short fiction that you would like to submit, contact the editor at voice@ausu.org.

The Voice is pleased to introduce a brand new fiction feature.
To kick off the column, we have a special treat – Forgotten Promise, an original short novel by Carla Johnson. For part one of this story, see: http://www.ausu.org/voice/articles/articledisplay.php?ART=429

After the last installment we will begin running a piece of student fiction each week, so start sending in your submissions. Any form of creative writing is acceptable, including short stories and poems.

Part four :

Laura proceeded to explain about the adoption certificate that she had seen, leaving out details about who had given her the document. Adam seemed irritated that she hadn’t shared this information with him. But after all, he hadn’t called in more than a week! Laura stated as much,

“Laura . . .,” there was a sudden break in his voice. “I’d like to see you.”

.

Why, Adam? There is no point. We’ll talk as soon as we have more information, but that’s as far as it can go.”

“Alright, Laura, I understand. But on Saturday, I’m taking my housekeeper’s granddaughter to West Edmonton Mall. She’s a good kid, very lonely, and I promised I would take her somewhere if she had a good report card for Grade I. Please. . I’d like you to come with us.” The naked hope in his voice stabbed her.

“Well . . . ,” she hesitated long enough for him to know he had the advantage.

“We’ll pick you up at 10:30.” Then he hung up quickly, not giving her a chance to refuse. She mused for a moment. Why would Adam be taking his housekeeper’s granddaughter anywhere? He must have a soft spot – or perhaps it was regret at not being able to enjoy a child of his own. As she thought, she remembered a conversation they had after she first arrived, in which he described his housekeeper’s granddaughter as a “bright, artistic and sweet child, one who needs something more than her grandmother can give her.” Remembering those words convinced her that going with Adam on Saturday would be appropriate. Her experience and training had shown her that children needed all the attention and love they could get. Obviously this little girl was someone special to Adam. She looked forward to seeing what kind of child had touched Adam’s heart.

Saturday dawned full of sunshine and promise of summer. Laura felt a pang as she remembered the warm, breezy mornings she had enjoyed breakfast with her parents on their deck, watching the surf crash over the beach. Life in Vancouver had not been so bad.

Her inquiries into her parent’s source of income had not yet revealed much. The bank manager was unwilling to provide too much information, but indicated that it was a trust fund set up by some external source, payable until death. Blood money? The thought popped into Laura’s head involuntarily. Was there a connection between the unknown person from Edmonton who had taken her child and the large trust fund that had supported them in a comfortable lifestyle in Vancouver? It seemed reasonable. Answers must come soon, she reassured herself. “I feel very close. I feel my daughter within reach. I know she must be here and soon I will know the truth.” These thoughts and feelings overwhelmed her until she heard the rumble of the Caddy promptly at 10:30. “Must be a special occasion” she thought, noting that Adam was punctual as always. She left her room and walked towards the parking lot. As she approached the Caddy, she was brought to a surprise halt. The child in the car was Melanie, the girl she had met in the park. The “Adam” Melanie had spoken of was “her” Adam after all.

They greeted each other like old friends, much to Adam’s surprise, until Laura explained how they had met. He digested the news silently, his manner somewhat distracted. However, Melanie’s good spirits soon dispelled any ghosts, and the day proved to be a magical one. It was the kind of day Laura had always dreamed of. A day a real family would enjoy together. Every smile she and Adam exchanged, every accidental touch – Melanie’s innocent gaze – they all conspired to push reality far away.

All too soon, it was suppertime. Melanie’s choice, of course, was ‘MacDonalds’. As they enjoyed their hamburgers and fries, Adam’s eyes met Laura’s. A sudden electric shock rocked her. She blinked in consternation. Did he feel the same way she did about the day they had just spent together? It seemed so. Laura’s defences were fast falling away.

Melanie asked for permission to go and play in the indoor playground, and ran off happily. Laura reluctantly watched her go, somehow afraid to be alone with Adam.

“Laura!” he spoke quietly but commandingly. She looked up at him. “Thank you for coming. It meant a lot to me, and to Melanie.”

“I was glad to come. Melanie is a lovely child, and I’ve enjoyed being with her.” Laura replied.

“Only Melanie?” he asked. Laura looked up and met the electric gaze. “No. Not only Melanie. I’ve enjoyed being with you too,” she was forced to admit.

“Me too,” he replied, then added, “It’s almost like . .”, then he broke off, changing the subject all at once. “Laura, I’d like to ask one more thing of you today. I want you to come with me to see my mother,” he paused as Laura opened her mouth to object. “No, Laura, before you turn me down, hear me out” He took a deep breath. “Mother has changed. I know she treated you badly, but she’s learned her lesson, believe me. She thought Vicki was everything she ever wanted for me, but she very quickly changed her mind. Since Dad died, she’s been so lonely. I’m all she has. She’d love grandchildren, but as I already told you, Vicki doesn’t :.,” he broke off briefly, then continued, “Mother isn’t the same person. I’ve told her about us, and she asked to see you. It would mean a lot to her, and to me. Please, Laura.” His voice was quiet, humble.

Laura hesitated. Her memories of Adam’s mother weren’t particularly pleasant. Mrs. Jacobs had made it so clear that Laura would never marry Adam if she had any say in it. Yet … people could change, do unexpected things. Her parents had. It was time to forgive. “Alright, Adam, I’ll go with you,” she answered.

“Let’s collect Melanie and leave, then.” he stated, and got up.

“Now? You mean .. go see her now?”

“Yes, what did you think I meant?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s O.K. I guess.” In reality, Laura had been hoping for time to brace herself mentally.

“Mom loves to see Melanie, and Melanie really enjoys going there too. She’s expecting us at 7:00, so we should leave now.”

Again, his arrogant assurance that she would agree to accompany him. Laura refused to let it bother her; it had been a wonderful day, and nothing was going to ruin it. And as for this visit, well, she would just make the best of it.

It seemed strange to be close to her old neighbourhood once again. She was lost in memories of good times with Adam. Happy times, loving times. The empty, lost, lonely times hadn’t touched her here, for she had taken them with her to Vancouver. Adam seemed wrapped in thought as well. He again wore that worried, distracted air.

“Something’s happened,” Laura thought. Well, perhaps he would confide in her soon. Even Melanie seemed touched by the strange atmosphere, and sat quietly, looking out the window. Then she broke the silence.

“There it is!” she said, excitedly, “Grandma Jacob’s house!” Laura again revised her opinion of Mrs. Jacobs. She must really have changed to inspire such excitement in Melanie!

Adam’s mother answered the door on the first ring, obviously waiting for them. Her welcoming smile was for Melanie first, as she gave her a warm hug. Then she looked up at Laura. She smiled tentatively and reached to hold Laura’s hand in both of hers. “Thank you for coming”, was all she said.

Melanie’s obvious enjoyment in Mrs. Jacobs’ company eased the tension as they sat in the elegant living room. “Angie has gone home already, but she baked your favorite cookies”, she said to an excited Melanie. “Come with me and we’ll bring them out, along with some tea”, she invited. Laura was forced to admit to herself that Mrs. Jacobs had changed for the better.

As they disguised their nervousness in the routine of having tea and cookies, conversation remained on general topics. Mrs. Jacobs asked about Laura’s work and expressed proper sympathy at the loss of her parents; but what was foremost on their minds was not spoken of. After an hour, Adam got up. “Laura, I’m going to take Melanie home since she has school tomorrow. Perhaps you would stay here with Mother and wait for me.” Laura was about to refuse, eager to escape, when Mrs. Jacobs spoke.

“Yes, of course dear, Laura will stay here with me. We have years of catching up to do!” It seemed obvious where Adam had inherited his habit of ordering people around. Laura sat back down, acquiescent. “Time to bite the bullet!” she said to herself.

The moment Adam and Melanie left, Mrs. Jacobs cut straight to the heart of the matter. “Laura, dear, first of all I want to say . . .,” it seemed difficult for her to form the right words. “It’s hard to admit when you are wrong. I was wrong about you and Adam. I’m sorry. I hope : you can find a way to forgive me.” Adam had said almost the same words. It was time to have things out in the open.

“I won’t deny that you hurt me.” Laura wasn’t letting her off the hook too easily, “But I’ve realized that I must learn how to forgive many people, including my own parents. The most I can say right now is that I’m trying. I’d like the past to disappear. All I want now is a future for me and my daughter.”

“Yes dear. Adam told me. I hope you don’t mind, but he told me everything. He wanted my help. I’d like to offer it to you as well. Whatever way I can help you both, you have only to ask.” She paused, her voice becoming unsteady, then she added, “She’s my granddaughter too.”

Laura nodded and looked down at her hands. She had never expected this once cold, rude woman to one day admit any relationship between them. Laura was learning that others had deep, intense feelings about what had happened. Things were never as they seemed on the surface.

After that a comfortable camaraderie filled the room. Laura found herself confiding in Mrs. Jacobs, telling her of her feelings about her own parents, confessing her inability to understand why they had done what they had. Mrs. Jacobs’ words were an unexpected comfort.

“Sometimes, we as parents try too hard. We have dreams. We dream that our children will be everything we wish, the culmination of all our hopes.” She gave a little laugh. “It rarely turns out that way, of course, but we keep trying to make it happen. I think your parents chose the way they believed would be the best for you to find the dream they envisioned for you. They, as we all do, believed that if your child always follows the path you lay for him, he will always be happy and successful in life. You strayed from that path. They tried to find a way to put you back on.” With that, they both sat quietly for some time, each given to their own private thoughts.

Adam’s arrival broke the mood. He stood at the doorway uncertainly, “Well, it looks like you had a nice visit”, he stated, rather lamely.

Laura couldn’t help but laugh. Trust a man to be a master of understatement. “We said things that needed to be said,” Laura said, glancing over at Mrs. Jacobs and sharing a secret smile. “But I think I should be getting back now, if you don’t mind.” They said their goodbyes, with promises to speak again soon.

As they drove, Adam seemed restless, wanting to tell her something, until finally Laura lost patience. “O.K., Adam. Spit it out!” she ordered, then softened her tone. “I know something’s bothering you. I know you. Please, tell me.”

His jaw tightened. “I spoke to Vicki this morning. I served her with a petition for divorce. As I expected, it wasn’t a pleasant scene.”

“Oh, Adam, I’m sorry.” Laura couldn’t think of anything to say to somehow comfort him.

“It’s alright. I expected her to react that way, but still : I guess Vicki feels that somehow, she’s ended up being a loser. I was a prize she won, and she was determined to keep me. You know Vicki – if she owns something, she will never give it up. Her father brought her up to believe she could always have her own way, that she could always control people. But this time, there’s nothing she can do. I’ve made up my mind. She can have everything. I just want my freedom. More than that, I want :,” he suddenly pulled over to the curb and stopped the car. Laura looked at him uncertainly.

“I was waiting for the right time, but maybe this is it. Laura, whatever happens, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’ve never stopped loving you.” He made no move to touch her, just gazed at her with eyes glowing with desire.

His words were not entirely unexpected. Laura had been unable to deny the feelings that still lived between them. He obviously had had the same problem. Yet, could she live with what he had done? “People change,” she reminded herself. Adam had changed. So had she. Was there a chance for them?

“Will you : will you give me a little more time?” was all she managed. “So much has happened :” Her heart and body yearned for him to hold her, cover her with the security of his embrace, kiss her until her crazy heart promised him anything. But Adam sat very still and made no move towards her, as if afraid to touch her. Then all at once he grabbed her in a tight embrace and kissed her fiercely. Just as suddenly he let her go and started the car again, leaving her reeling.

“I have all the time in the world”, he stated, and put the car in gear. Laura leaned back against the seat, somewhat dazed. What had just happened? What had she promised? Their love had not won out under test seven years ago, how could it do so now? But she put no voice to her thoughts.

When they were close to her motel, Adam spoke again. “When I talked to Vicki this morning, she said something odd. She was screaming and raging, and I didn’t think much of it at the time. But now I wonder if maybe she really could make trouble :”

“What is it, Adam”, Laura asked, reaching her hand to touch his arm gently.

“She said . . let me think what exactly her words were : she said, ‘Don’t think you’ve won. You don’t know what I have. I will still win. You can leave me but I’ll always have the best of you.'” He paused, thinking. “That was about it, and it didn’t worry me much then. Now I wonder what she was talking about. Vicki can be : very vindictive. I can’t help but worry that perhaps she could make things difficult somehow. I just don’t know how, nor what she was threatening, for that’s what it was, a threat.”

Laura rubbed her hand softly along his arm, feeling his distress as acutely as if it were her own. “I don’t know what she could have meant either, Adam. Divorces happen everyday, and she can’t stop you if you really want one. Other than taking you for everything you own financially :”

“I don’t care about money,” he spat out angrily. “She can have it all. It’s all just blood money anyway. I just don’t want any unexpected surprises.” Then he lapsed into silence.

Laura dropped her arm and sat up straighter. What an odd choice of words! She struggled to remember the echo of those words in her own thoughts recently. But her train of thought was interrupted as they drove into the parking lot.

“I wish this day didn’t have to come to an end, Laura”, he spoke, as he stopped the car, his voice soft and caressing once more. “But I hope it will be just one of many in our future together.”

“Please don’t rush me, Adam”, she pleaded. “I’ve got a lot to think about right now. But”, she softened, “It was a wonderful day, and Melanie was a treat. Thank you for taking me.” She opened the door and got out quickly before he could act on the obvious intention in his eyes, but he was too fast for her. He jumped out, and had reached her door in seconds, his hand on her arm as he helped her out. “Ever the old-fashioned gentleman!” she thought. But his intentions were far from gentlemanly.

“Don’t I get a good night kiss?” he growled. Before she realized it, he had wrapped her in his embrace, and her lips met his in wild abandon. It was like no goodnight kiss she had ever received, and she was trembling when he finally released her. When she leaned back towards him to continue the embrace, he pushed her firmly away. “Goodnight, Laura”, he said. “If I don’t stop now, I’m coming in, and I don’t think you want that.”

“How do you know what I want?” Laura thought, still dizzy from his kiss, her heart pounding. But she agreed with him. It would be too dangerous to continue. It was not time. “Goodnight, Adam,” she said softly, as she pulled away from him and turned to her door. “My love”, she added, almost to herself, as he turned on his heel and walked away.

Laura’s sleep was tormented by vivid dreams. Morning came too quickly, and with it an early shift at the hospital. Aaron greeted her with excitement. “Laura, I’ve thought of something! I’ll check it out on my coffee break and let you know later.” By now Laura knew better than to pressure him. He obviously liked to keep people in suspense. Coffee break came and went, and both were kept busy in emergency. Finally, shortly before lunch, Aaron cornered her.

“I think we’re on to something. We have a supper date in the restaurant across the street, if you’re free. Meanwhile, come to lunch with me in the cafeteria and I’ll explain everything.”

After they were settled in a quiet corner, Aaron leaned forward, his face aglow. “I got thinking about where we might find a connection between the hospital and the baby’s home. Most of the time when the baby is born in the hospital we keep records. As we already saw, that didn’t apply when your daughter was transferred here and adopted. But I figured there had to be a way, somehow, that the hospital would retain some kind of contact, some kind of record. I thought about standard policy when the baby is born, forms that are filled out, and so on. But what about after the baby leaves? Most parents just continue with their own personal physician, and only return to the hospital for emergencies. But suddenly I remembered!” he paused irritatingly.

“Aaron, please, go on. Don’t keep me in suspense any longer!” she begged.

He looked contrite. “Sorry. Anyway what I remembered was – The Public Health Nurse!”

Laura let her puzzlement show. “The Public Health Nurse? What do you mean?”

“Well, we have a system here in Edmonton where all birth records go to the Public Health Nurse. She then contacts the parents shortly after they return home from the hospital to arrange a home visit, just to make sure everything is all right”, he explained.

Light was filtering through. “So what did you find out?” she asked.

“One of the nurses I worked with when I interned is a Public Health Nurse. I called her and asked if she could help me. I explained the circumstances surrounding your daughter’s transfer here, and when it had happened. She wasn’t Public Health Nurse then, but her supervisor was. Anyway, to make a long story shorter, she put me in contact with Mrs. Murray. When I asked her about the chances of her remembering a specific child, she said it wasn’t likely. But when I mentioned the date, Vancouver, and adoption, it rang a few bells for her. She said she definitely remembered the occasion, but would have to think for a bit to remember details. When I suggested we meet later and treat her to dinner, she jumped at the chance. So what do you think?” he finally paused for breath.

“I think you are wonderful, Aaron. Maybe I shouldn’t get my hopes up too high, but this seems so promising. If she actually remembers the home visit!” Her face shone with pleasure. “I just don’t know how to thank you, Aaron.”

“Don’t thank me yet. It could be a false lead. But it does sound good. At the very least, I get to have dinner with you again!” he added, smiling boyishly.

Laura smiled back. His charm was infectious. Now all she had to do was get through the next few hours till supper.

Read The Voice next week for the conclusion of Forgotten Promise.
For submissions for the upcoming Voice student fiction column, contact voice@ausu.org.

Carla Johnson grew up in Western Canada. She loves to read and tell stories to her cousins and younger sisters; and especially loves creating mystery romance stories because love is like that. If she could change the world she would do it through peace, love and song. Her favourite pastime is baking goodies for her family and friends, riding her bike, traveling to new places, and staying up waaaaay past everyone else’s bedtime. She is not related to Johnson & Johnson product providers although she avidly uses most of them.

The Voice is pleased to introduce a brand new fiction feature.
To kick off the column, we have a special treat – Forgotten Promise, an original short novel by Carla Johnson. For part one of this story, see: http://www.ausu.org/voice/articles/articledisplay.php?ART=429

After the last installment we will begin running a piece of student fiction each week, so start sending in your submissions. Any form of creative writing is acceptable, including short stories and poems.

Part three :

Thinking back now, it had seemed so easy. Immediately after arriving in Vancouver they had a house to live in. It was only after her parent’s death that Laura had discovered the house had a clear title in her parent’s name. Among their financial records, Laura had found bank statements that showed a regular automatic monthly deposit of $2000.00. Laura had assumed that it was a pension of some sort, and in her rush to search for her daughter, had not investigated further. Now she wondered. Where was the money coming from? Where had they found the money to purchase a house? To make the move to Vancouver? Where had her father been that whole night before they left? Again she cursed her many years of lack of attention to important details.

Turning these things around and around in her brain didn’t appear to be leading to any useful conclusions, so finally Laura gave up. She resolved that first thing Monday she would contact her parent’s bank in Vancouver and try to trace that mysterious deposit. But now it was late, and time to get ready for her “date”:

While she showered, her thoughts turned to Adam and his present role in her life. Again she reminded herself that he was not now, nor ever would be again, a part of her. Even if he were not married to Vicki, his betrayal still loomed large in her mind. She could never trust him. But oh! her treacherous heart fought. All the time her head was telling her to be rational; her heart was dressing for Adam. Putting on perfume for Adam. Doing her hair the way Adam liked.

The turmoil in her heart and mind were brought to a halt by the knock on her door. Nervously she glanced in the mirror yet another time, making sure she would present the most perfect appearance possible. She had let her hair loose, and it swung shining to her shoulders. Her favourite dress of red silk swirled around her svelte figure. Yes, she looked her best. “Now, be still, heart!” she warned as she opened the door.

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at Adam. How handsome he was in his cream suit! How black and shiny his hair was – making her fingers itch to caress it! “Oh Adam”, she thought. “You were mine. How could you have left me?”

His eyes caressed her as he walked with her to his car. With a gasp she recognized his old white ’59 Cadillac. Seven years ago it had been his pride and joy, although aged and battered. Now it sat, gleaming and new, completely restored to its original splendour.

“I finally found enough money to do my baby justice.” He explained proudly. Although Laura flinched at the use of the word “baby”, she couldn’t suppress a sigh of pleasure as he opened the door for her and she once again slid into the luxury of white leather, now perfect and new once more. “I only use it on special occasions”, he added.

“Yes”, she thought, “Special occasions indeed.” It had been a special occasion when he had picked her up to take her to her Grade 12 graduation. She had arrived in style in his Cadillac, secure in his love for her, celebrating that milestone of life. And later, much later, they had parked at the edge of the river. The moon was a golden reflection in the rear-view mirror as they had leaned into the cracked white leather and held each other as if they would never let go. They had made plans that night and the future shone brightly as the moon.

“As Juliet’s inconstant moon!” Laura now thought in scorn. What a fool she had been. Still, the smooth luxury and rich scent of old leather swept her nostalgically into a bemused state.

“Adam, I love it.” She stated. “I always loved this car. Now it’s like everything is renewed. The queen has been given a second chance.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance.” He stated abruptly, putting the car into gear and leaving her to regret her choice of words.

Feeling the purr of the Cadillac’s motor beneath her, Laura was again swept into the past. How many times had they cruised downtown on a Saturday night, enjoying the attention only a car like this could command? How many times had they washed and waxed their “baby” together, splashing each other, laughing as they worked, until the Caddy shone like glass?

She glanced sideways at Adam, recalling all the times they had driven around with Laura cuddled close to him on the wide seat, like the “two-headed driver” they always laughed about. But suddenly the warm glow of her remembrance was chilled by the thought of Vicki. Had she sat close to Adam on this wide white leather seat? How often had they cruised Jasper Avenue together, revelling in the envious stares of other drivers?

As if aware of her thoughts, Adam spoke, “You are the only one who ever appreciated this car. Vicki thinks it beneath her dignity to ride in anything more than a year old. If . .” he corrected himself, “when . . we go out together, it’s in her Mercedes, or one of the new Cadillacs her father keeps in our garage.”

The mention of Vicki hurt deeply, yet Laura knew that she must become accustomed to not only hearing the name, but discussing it impersonally.

Their destination appeared to be an old house, but turned out to be an exclusive French restaurant. The main floor rooms had been converted into exclusive small eating areas; the one Adam led her to only contained two other tables which were presently empty. Her glance strayed to stairs leading upward, and Adam explained,

“This restaurant also offers several upstairs rooms available for overnight rental for special occasions.”

There was that term again, ‘special occasions’. Surely this WAS a special occasion. Laura felt her cheeks fill with warmth as she speculated on those upstairs rooms. Oh to be with Adam alone again in such a romantic environment! With a rush she realized that, in spite of seven years separation, and in spite of everything Adam had done to her, her feelings towards him had not changed. Her love was still as strong and true as it had been when she was a tender, innocent teenager.

The shock of realization hit her and she glanced up into Adam’s eyes. Could he still read her thoughts? The hunger she saw there frightened her. It wasn’t possible that Adam felt what she did. If his love had been as strong and true as hers, they would have been together always until now. They would have their daughter, their family would be united, no shadows, no nightmares.

The rest of the evening passed by all too quickly. The food was exquisite, as was the environment. But nothing surpassed the company. It was Laura and Adam. Lovers true and honest. They talked of nothing, yet they talked of everything. By the time coffee arrived, Laura felt dazed. She no longer had another life beyond Adam.

“Laura,” he spoke warmly, “It means so much to have you here.” Perhaps the wine had made him bold. “I. . . I’d like you to know: that I’ve never stopped loving you. I looked for you. Oh, Laura, you are the only one I’ve ever wanted or loved.”

Laura wasn’t sure if she was hearing right. After all, the last time they had been together this way, he had proposed that she become his mistress while Vicki retained the position of wife. “Adam” she spoke gently, “you have a wife. You made a choice seven years ago, and now . . . there is no future for us. I can’t say . .”, at this she paused, “that I don’t feel the right things. What I felt for you seven years ago has not changed. But”, she added, “time and unforeseen circumstance befalls us all. We make our choices and then live with them.
Sometimes it hurts.” she added, as he flinched with the cruelty of her words, “but . . ” her voice faltered, “that’s the way it is.”

His eyes were shadowed and there was pain in his voice. “Laura,” he whispered, “Let’s forget the past. Let’s make a new future. Me and you. And our daughter when we find her.” He paused and grasped for words.

“We’ve both paid a heavy price. Can’t we let the past go and make a new beginning?” The hope in his voice was almost her undoing.

“No, Adam.” She forced harshness into her voice. “It’s over. It was over a long time ago. But if . . ” she corrected herself, “when . . we find our daughter, I hope to share her with you, if that proves to be possible.”

Adam made as if to speak again, but stopped. After some minutes, he signaled the waiter and they left the restaurant, silence unbroken. Later that night Laura was to reflect on that silence and wonder if it meant something beyond the words she and Adam had spoken thus far.

As they cruised home in the Caddy, both were lost in thought and feelings. Then Adam sped off and Laura was left unceremoniously at her motel, with only memories of fond good-night kisses to sustain her. She forced herself to focus on their daughter. “You are only here for one purpose. Don’t let him get to you again”. Warning bells sounded in her brain and in her heart, but to no avail. Adam had once again spun his magic. Laura was his victim, helpless to run away from the remembered desire of youth and the new reality of mature love.

To cope, Laura immersed herself in her work. After several days, Aaron managed to corner her. “Laura – have you been deliberately avoiding me?” His teasing tone seemed to mask some deeper emotion. “I’ve wanted to ask you out again, but whenever I phone you aren’t in. Are you free for dinner and a movie tonight?” His tone was so hopeful, his smile so charming, that Laura didn’t have the heart to turn him down, and so she reluctantly agreed.

Aaron again proved to be good company. “I could really get to like this guy.” Laura thought to herself. Still she stayed conscious of her need to somehow use him as a source of information. Somewhere between dessert and coffee she decided to take the plunge.

“Aaron . . ” she began uncertainly, “I . . haven’t told you everything about myself.” She noted the sudden flash of worry in his eyes. Perhaps he was expecting some bizarre revelation; Something that would change his opinion of her forever.

“I had a baby many years ago. She was taken from me. I’m here now to look for her.” Laura waited for a reaction.

The relief in his face was palpable. “I knew you had a secret of some kind. Something you didn’t want to tell. I’m glad you’ve decided to share it with me.” he paused, playing with his empty coffee cup. Then he looked directly at her. “Is there any way I can help?”

Laura felt suddenly ashamed that she had thought to take advantage of this kind, sensitive man. “Aaron . . I’m not sure right now, but I appreciate your offer.” She then proceeded to explain all the steps she had taken up until now in her search, leaving out any personal reference to Adam, simply stating, “A friend here in Edmonton is making inquiries as well”. A great weight seemed to lift off her, and they were talking as old friends. Possibilities and ideas flew between them, and they talked for hours, drinking coffee. When they became conscious of the fact that they were the only ones left in the restaurant, they both looked guiltily at the waitress tactfully hovering by, obviously waiting for them to leave. Laura glanced at Aaron as he paid the bill, and a twinkle of unspoken humour passed between them. Again Laura was assailed by a feeling of guilt. Was she using Aaron? He had offered his help. Surely that absolved her. But she couldn’t deny that niggling feeling – knowing Aaron was interested in her personally, knowing she couldn’t return the interest. Again she hardened herself. “Stop being sentimental.” She thought. “Finding your daughter is all that matters.”

A warm camaraderie filled the car as Aaron drove her home. They were now allies. As they turned down 101st Avenue, minutes from home, he said, “I think maybe there might be some information I can access at the hospital. Leave it with me for a couple of days, and I’ll see what I can do.” Before Laura could express her gratitude, he added, “Don’t get your hopes up, there may be nothing, and I may not be able to find it even if it is there. But I’ll do all I can.” With those reassuring words, he stopped the car in front of her hotel. Laura reached for the door handle, thanking him sincerely for a lovely evening. As she turned to him, he reached over and gave her a brotherly hug, as if realizing that any closer contact would be unwelcome.

“It will be O.K. Laura, I feel it inside. Trust Doctor Grant”, he added flippantly. With a smile on her face she escaped the car, waving to him as she inserted her key in the lock.

“He really is a nice man”, she thought to herself. “If only . .” but she didn’t want to admit that something was still holding her back from loving again – something called “Adam”. She did feel heartened, however, having confided in Aaron. Even if he couldn’t help her, it was nice to have finally shared her burden with someone else; someone who had no vested interest in the whole situation. Laura sighed as she got ready for bed.

“Sometimes things seem so close!” She thought ruefully.

On Saturday she went grocery shopping. She was looking over the fruit, choosing the nicest apples; when she became aware of someone beside her. She moved over a little to make room for the intruder to find space, and glanced at her. To her surprise, she recognized Melanie, the little girl she had met in the park.

“Hi Melanie!” she exclaimed. The little girl looked up at her, and her face lit up with momentary pleasure.

“I know you!” she exclaimed, “I saw you in the park.”

“Yes, we swung together. How have you been? Are you picking apples?” Laura added.

“Yes, my grandma asked me to choose some good ones. She taught me how to pick the nicest ones.”

“Your grandma is very smart to teach you things like that,” Laura smiled. Melanie really was a very pretty child, in spite of her seriousness. “So have you been to the park lately?” she added, in an attempt to make light conversation.

“Well”, Melanie said, “I like to go every day, but right now everything is kind of upset in the house I live in, so my grandma makes me stay home most of the time. But tomorrow, Adam promised me he would take me to the zoo, and I can hardly wait!”

Something clutched at Laura’s heart. “Adam . .?” She said quietly. “Is that your dad’s name?”

“Oh no”, Melanie answered quickly. “Adam is . . “, she was suddenly stopped by a tall, grey-haired lady who had come beside them unawares.

“Melanie”, she admonished, “You know better than to be bothering strangers. Let’s go.” Her tone seemed unusually harsh.

“But grandma . . I was just . . ” The little girl’s protests were cut off as her grandma grabbed her arm roughly.

“I said let’s go.” The woman spoke quietly but sharply.

“It’s O.K.”, Laura tried to mollify the grandmother. “I met Melanie at the park. I was enjoying talking to her.” At Laura’s words, the grandmother looked up into her eyes. Laura shrank back at the malevolence of that look. What had she done to merit such animosity? But before she could speak again, Melanie’s grandmother had grabbed her and quickly walked towards the checkouts.

Melanie turned back once and gave a little wave, as if to say, “Don’t mind my grandma, I still like you!”

Laura finished her shopping with a sense of disquiet. Why had Melanie’s grandmother been so hostile? Why had the name “Adam” come up in their conversation? What strange coincidences!

Later that evening, as Laura was preparing her lonely supper, the phone rang. It was Aaron. “Laura!” his voice was excited, “I’ve found out some things that I think might fit! Can we get together?”

Laura could not contain her excitement. “Aaron! Tell me! Don’t make me wait!” Her heart swelled in anticipation. A breakthrough at last?

“No, Laura, I’ve got to show you what I found. Are you free right now?”

Of course she was. “Alright. You win. Come over Aaron, and tell me in person.” She resigned herself to having to wait. “Have you had supper? If not, I’m just making mine. You’re welcome to join me.”

“Supper sounds great. I’ll be there in about 15 minutes”, and they terminated the conversation in order to hurry his arrival.

Laura rushed about trying to stretch her supper to feed two; fortunately she had stocked up at Safeway. All too soon it seemed (where was her sense of urgency?) his knock sounded at the door.

Aaron refused to enlighten her until they had eaten supper and shared the bottle of wine he had brought. Finally, relaxed and replete, they sat on the hard motel sofa and faced each other.

“Tell me, tell me Aaron! I’ve waited long enough. What have you found?” she demanded. In answer he pulled a white paper from his jacket pocket. He held it towards her. It was a photocopy of a standard form of some kind. The title on the top read, “Record of Adoption of a Minor Child Within the Province of Alberta”. As Laura scanned the information in front of her, she gathered that this was a record of the adoption of a child born on April 7, 1987; in Vancouver, Canada. With a cold shock she recognized her name under the “name of mother”. “My baby!” she whispered. She quickly and excitedly glanced at the entry under “name of father”. It was blank. In fact the rest of the document held no other identifying information whatsoever. Under the heading “name of adoptive parents”, the entry was again blank. Laura let go an audible sigh of disappointment.

Aaron seemed to sense what she was thinking. “I know it doesn’t seem to give us (she noted the use of “us” and warmed to it) much to go on, but it does confirm that your daughter was brought here to be adopted. At the hospital at which we work, in fact!” he added jubilantly. “If we can find out this much, we can find out more!” he stated confidently.

Laura hesitated, then spoke, “Thank you Aaron. What you have found means a great deal. At least I know for sure I’m on the right track. I have a feeling that my daughter is still here, somewhere, in Edmonton. Thank you for giving me that confidence.”

Aaron beamed with pleasure. “I like you, Laura, I like you a lot. It gives me a great deal of happiness to help you and make you happy. I just wish I could find out more for you, but I’ll keep looking.” His warm words were accompanied by an even warmer look. It was obvious that Aaron wanted more than just a “working relationship” with Laura. How she wished she could give it to him!

Aaron gave her a chaste peck on the lips as he left the motel a little while later. He was so sweet! “Please, God,” she prayed, “let me feel something for this dear man. Let me forget Adam. Please wipe him out of my mind!” It was her best chance now. Find her baby, and forget Adam in the arms of another man.

Her search now became heated, confirmation that her daughter had come to Edmonton seemed to give her new impetus. After some days, she heard from Adam. “Laura,” he stated without preamble, “I have information from Vancouver. Apparently your”, he abruptly corrected himself, “our daughter, was adopted by a single woman. All I can confirm so far is that she was living in Edmonton at the time.”

“I already know that she lived here, Adam.”

Laura proceeded to explain about the adoption certificate that she had seen, leaving out details about who had given her the document. Adam seemed irritated that she hadn’t shared this information with him. But after all, he hadn’t called in more than a week! Laura stated as much,

“Well, you hadn’t called, and I don’t like to call you. But”, she added, ashamed suddenly – after all, it was his daughter too, “I should have told you. We did agree to always compare notes.” She didn’t add that Aaron’s involvement had complicated things somewhat for her. Adam had no right to be jealous anyway.

“Laura . . .,” there was a sudden break in his voice. “I’d like to see you:”

Read The Voice next week for part four of Forgotten Promise.
For submissions for the upcoming Voice student fiction column, contact voice@ausu.org.

Carla Johnson grew up in Western Canada. She loves to read and tell stories to her cousins and younger sisters; and especially loves creating mystery romance stories because love is like that. If she could change the world she would do it through peace, love and song. Her favourite pastime is baking goodies for her family and friends, riding her bike, traveling to new places, and staying up waaaaay past everyone else’s bedtime. She is not related to Johnson & Johnson product providers although she avidly uses most of them.

The Voice is pleased to introduce a brand new fiction feature.
To kick off the column, we have a special treat – Forgotten Promise, an original short novel by Carla Johnson. For part one of this story, see: http://www.ausu.org/voice/articles/articledisplay.php?ART=429

After the last installment we will begin running a piece of student fiction each week, so start sending in your submissions. Any form of creative writing is acceptable, including short stories and poems.

Part two :

He poured her another glass of wine, and standing, took her hand and led her back to the sofa. He sat next to her, but not too close, sensing her tension. Without releasing her hand, he turned to face her. “Well, Laura?” He prompted her, “How can I help you?”

The warmth of his eyes made her legs turn to Jello, and she forgot all the practiced speech. “Adam . .” she hesitated, “I..I need you to help me,” she paused, then blurted out, “I need you to help me find our daughter!”

.
.

Shock darkened his eyes and his cheeks reddened. “What are you saying, Laura?”

“I’m saying . . . we had a daughter . . . but they said she was dead . . . now I know the truth . . . when dad was dying . . . please, Adam, please help me find her!” She burst into tears, unable to continue.

Suddenly she was being held tightly against him, his arms tender around her as she wept, his hand caressing her shoulder blades, keeping her close to the beating of his heart.

“Tell me”, he whispered, “tell me everything, Laura. Please . . tell me everything. Let me help you.”

So she told him about waking to hear that soft voice saying, “Miss Carey, I’m sorry . . I have bad news. Your child was born dead.” She told him how she had screamed like a madwoman for hours until they injected her with something to make her sleep. She told him how her parents had taken her home and lovingly tried to convince her that everything was for the best. And as days turned into weeks, it seemed that perhaps it was true. Maybe the past needed to be wiped out in order to forget. After a while, her emotions forever numbed, Laura went back to school and got her degree. Then she started work at the same hospital; studiously avoiding any contact with the maternity ward. Her work with children suffering various degrees of psychosis totally occupied her every waking hour. Her attempts to heal their young psyches somehow managed to heal hers – or so it seemed. Adam and her daughter were pushed back into a dark recess of her mind. They no longer existed.

Her work became her panacea; her life, her obsession. She avoided all but the most casual of relationships with her workmates. A few of the doctors made tentative attempts to develop a closer friendship, but after her constant rejections, they gave up. While they respected her in the workplace, she developed the reputation of being aloof and cold, and except for hospital matters, everyone pretty much left her alone.

Then two months ago the life she had so carefully constructed for herself fell apart. Her parents were driving home from shopping when a truck crossed the median and hit them head on. Her mother was killed instantly, her father fatally injured. Laura was on duty when they brought her father in and stayed all night with him in emergency, praying that he would regain consciousness. Near dawn his eyes had opened.

“Laura, honey?” his voice was weak and shaky. “I’m here, dad” she replied, hope springing in her heart.

“Must tell you . . Laura . . before I go. Please forgive me. We thought it was best . . ” his voice drifted off.

“It’s O.K. dad, I forgive you, please don’t worry. Please save your strength so you can get well for me.” Her voice caught on a sob. “Don’t leave me, dad!”

“Must tell you Laura . . your mother and I . . thought it best. Didn’t want you to hurt anymore. And she . . she promised the baby would have a good life. A better life . . than you or we could give her.” His voice drifted off again, but this time Laura was in shock.

“What are you saying, dad?” she almost screamed the words as her heart plummeted. “What are you talking about? My baby? What happened to my baby? What have you done?”

But his voice was faint, and fading fast. “Such a pretty little thing . . my little Laura . . . wanted to keep her . . but it was for the best . . be happy . . .” his voice had trickled to a whisper, and Laura wasn’t even sure of the last few words.

“Please don’t go dad!” she screamed. But even as she spoke the words, his hand went limp and the machines began beeping their steady warning. “Nurse!” Laura yelled, “Someone! Help him!”

Within minutes it was all over. Laura was now alone in the world. But her father’s words had changed her forever. Her daughter had not died. But what had happened to her?

In the days that followed, Laura struggled to comprehend what had transpired. In the blur of arranging her parent’s funeral and disposing of their property, she tried to think why and how things had come to this point. She searched in vain among their papers, but her parents had foolishly believed death would never rear its ugly head and had left no clues, no words to guide her.

Finally, hidden away in the dresser in their room, beneath piles of clothing, she discovered the only piece of evidence she had. An envelope postmarked October 1987, Edmonton. Inside the envelope was a small picture of a curly haired, smiling baby in a ruffled dress, looking to be about six months old. When Laura calculated back in her mind, she knew with a certainty that this must be her daughter. But who had sent the picture? Where was her baby? Back in Edmonton? Who was the “she” her father had referred to? Or perhaps he was just rambling, and the “she” was some nameless social worker. No, that could not be, for someone had sent a picture.

Laura began to spend all her free waking hours investigating all possibilities. Days turned into weeks. She went to Social Services, but of course they refused to give her any information. She went to several private adoption agencies, and they referred her to the adoption registry. When she explained her story yet again, she found them sympathetic and helpful. But as they explained, their ability to help was limited, since the adoption records were still sealed. She could register her name and her desire to meet her daughter, and then when her daughter turned 18, she might possibly register as well, at which time the registry could put them in contact with each other.

The icy fingers of depression encircled Laura as she exhausted one avenue after another. She went to the hospital administration requesting information about maternity cases on April 7, 1987, but met a blank wall. Finally in desperation she used her privilege of access as a staff member and tried to look into the records herself. Her search might have been successful, but an eager night watchman had surprised her in the records room. Her tearful explanations were met with cold bureaucracy. The hospital administrator was a harsh dictator type of a woman, who believed in running things strictly according to the rules. Laura had broken the rules. Her excellent work record was of no consequence to this hard, bitter woman. Laura was fired unceremoniously on the spot.

Thus Laura found herself not just alone, but desperate. Finding her daughter had become an obsession that she would never give up. Now she was unemployed, and soon to be out of money. It seemed that no one could, or would, give her any answers. In her deepest discouragement, the thought of Adam entered her mind. She had no doubt that his ambition and his marriage would have firmly ensconced him on the ladder of success. Adam could help her. Money could buy anything. Surely it could buy information.

Drained suddenly, Laura leaned back and relaxed momentarily against Adam’s warm strength. How right it felt, that support which had been denied her all these years. Yet how foolish she had been to believe that her love for Adam could conquer all. Over the years she had come to realize how naive she had been to think he would ever carry through with his promises of marriage. Even without the lure of Vicki’s money and contacts, Laura never really stood a chance. Their backgrounds were totally alien. Adam grew up in an upper middle-class environment; his family only mixed in the “best” social circles. Laura always was the “girl from the other side of the tracks” – the subsidized condos across the street filled with working poor and those unfortunates whose circumstances had left them dependant on government social assistance. Adam’s parents were nice enough to her when she was a young girl; but as she matured, and Adam’s interest became apparent, their hostility began to show. Adam’s mother in particular, made it clear that she had no intention of allowing her son to throw away his life on a girl like Laura. No, Adam had never belonged to her and never would. All that mattered now was finding her daughter.

Yet how comforting his arms. How sweet his breath close to her hair. How she wanted to lean back into his embrace and let his strength wash over her. To become one once again with him. But no, never to be!

“Noo. . .” her moan of distress shattered the silence that had enveloped them in the aftermath of her tale. She pulled herself up and away from his arms and spoke quietly and slowly, “Can you, I mean, will you . . help me?”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” his voice was harsh and demanding.

Suddenly frightened, she glanced up into his eyes. Anger and pain made them dark and fearsome, yet was there a trace of dampness in the corner of his eye?

“Adam, how could I? You were already committed to Vicki. Your marriage was unavoidable. You had made it clear where I stood and what you wanted from me. You had no problem sacrificing your supposed love for me in exchange for money and a career. I couldn’t see that an unplanned, unwanted child would be any different.” With those last words she reminded him of what he had done to her, and she was rewarded when he turned away, refusing to meet her steady gaze. “Besides”, she went on, “I had my choices taken from me. You didn’t want me. My parents gave everything they had to take me from here. Your parents…” at this she broke off, unwilling to voice her thoughts, yet needing to continue. “I was even afraid….that….you and Vicki…or your parents… might try to…..take the baby away from me…..”

“My baby was all I had left. She kept me alive for nine months. When I lost her. .” Again she faltered, and corrected herself, “when she was taken from me . . . I thought I had nothing left. Then to find out that mom and dad were the ones. .” here she stopped herself, unable to put the ambivalence of what she felt for her parents into words.

“No, I can’t blame them. They were frightened for me. After having worked with disturbed children, I can see how they must have viewed me. They truly believed that it would be damaging to me to keep my baby. And yet, . . it was their grandchild . . how could they have done that to me?” Sudden anger surged through her. “How could YOU have done that to me?”

They were all to blame. Adam, her parents, Vicki. They had all conspired to destroy Laura.

“I’m sorry. I . . I’m sorry for saying I’m sorry. I know it isn’t enough. It won’t ever be enough to make up for what I’ve done to you.” Adam’s voice broke slightly, but he maintained control. “I’ll help you. I’ll do anything to try and make it up to you. I want to find our daughter just as much as you do. Laura…I….what can I do? I’ve put you through hell. I will never forgive myself…but maybe….someday… could you somehow, someway, see it in your heart to forgive me?”

The naked pain in his voice sliced through to her heart, and her first impulse was to reach out and reassure him of her forgiveness and undying love. But fortunately she grabbed hold of herself in time and could calmly answer his plea, her voice even,

“Thank you, Adam, I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” She paused, intending to leave it at that, but on seeing his torn expression, added, “I must learn to forgive my parents as well. And myself. Perhaps….time can heal. I need time. But more than that. I need to find my baby.”

“Alright”, he spoke abruptly. He took a deep breath and stood up dismissively. “Tomorrow I’ll contact my lawyers and start a search. You can count on my support in approaching any agencies in Edmonton. Let me know where I can get in touch with you if…when…I have any information.” His business-like tone almost put Laura off, but then she realized that he was deliberately distancing himself. It was best they maintain a strict working relationship.

“I’m staying at a furnished suite in the Patricia Motel. Tomorrow I’m going to apply for a job at the University Hospital. I hope to be able to stay here for as long as necessary. I’ve burned all my bridges in Vancouver”, she added, as she got up from the couch. “I don’t plan on sitting around waiting for you to do everything, either. I will be continuing my own inquiries. I’d like to suggest that we compare notes as often as possible. I believe that will help us find the truth sooner. I will, of course, endeavor to see that Vicki knows nothing of this”, she felt compelled to add.

He softened once again, as if to reach out to her. “Laura, please don’t worry about Vicki. She no longer matters. She should never have mattered.”

Laura’s hand reached out to touch his cheek. “Oh Adam, you are wrong. She will always matter.” Suddenly she found herself taking the first step to forgiveness. “I no longer care about Vicki. I now know you’ve paid a heavy price. But for me, I just want my baby back. I believe you when you say you will stand by me in this. I just don’t want anyone else hurt.”

The longing in his eyes almost undid her, but she somehow found the strength to turn away and walk mechanically, one foot in front of the other, to the door. There she turned back to see him still standing where she had left him, his hand on his cheek as if to guard her caress.

“Until tomorrow, Adam,” she murmured as she let herself out.

Over the next few days, life blurred. She remembered going for an interview, being hired, and being given a time to present herself for work. She also somehow went shopping for immediate necessities, and arranged for a lease of several months on her motel suite. Contrary to her expectations, she had not yet heard from Adam. Many times, late at night, in the crushing loneliness of her hotel room, she was tempted to call him.

“No!” she admonished herself. “Don’t be a fool. He will call when he knows something. Otherwise, there is no reason to call.”

She was due to start work the next morning, but Friday evening Laura was restless. She went for a drive, and somehow, of its own volition, her car drifted towards the empty lot where they had so often lain in the grass and planned Adam’s house.

It was empty no longer. Regret tore her insides as she took in the spectacular beauty of the white columns rising against the hills overlooking the river bank. It was exactly as she had so often envisioned it. In spite of the threats of occasional floods, he had always wanted to live in the river valley, for he said; “I love my city, and I become one with it when I sit on the river bank and watch the skyline reflected in the water”.

He had realized his dream, and his home was everything she imagined it would be – as much a part of his city as he was. Shimmering glass and balconies appeared to be climbing the hillside with second and third levels offering a spectacular view of the river below. Trees and bushes surrounded the house from behind, a mini-forest creating a sense of privacy within the city – something that had always been so important to both of them. From outside it was Adam’s dream come true. Inside, apparently his dreams were ashes.

Once again Laura felt a pang of something – was it sympathy? No. Adam made his choice. He didn’t deserve sympathy. But….he didn’t deserve to be surrounded by such beauty and live in such unhappiness either.

Reluctantly she tore her eyes away from Adam’s house and put her car in gear and drove on. But the warm summer breeze beckoned, and she decided to park her car and walk along the river valley path to enjoy the solitude.

Behind a cover of trees, she came upon a park, a children’s playground, set close to the river. In the gathering dusk, she became aware of a lone figure on the swings. As she approached, she realized that it was the figure of a small girl, swinging slowly back and forth. For a moment Laura stood back in the shadow of the surrounding trees, unwilling to break the child’s reverie. But somehow the little girl seemed so alone, so lonely, that she tugged at Laura’s heart. “My baby would be about that big” she thought, then chastened herself for always comparing everything to her lost daughter. Cautious of frightening the child, she approached slowly, making lots of noise humming to herself. As she drew close, she noticed that the girl had long black hair, tied back in a clumsy pony tail hanging below the seat of the swing. Then as her face came into focus, she noticed large, wide set green eyes and a serious mouth. “Hi”, Laura said, “Mind if I share a swing?”

The child didn’t answer, just gravely acknowledged Laura’s presence with a stare. Laura took that for acceptance, and began to swing. “You know”, she said, “I always wanted to swing as high as the stars – but somehow no matter how I tried, when I reached the top and put out my hand – the stars ran away from me!” At that the child giggled. Laura became bold. “Hey, how about a contest? Let’s see who can go the highest!”

They began to swing, adult and child, pushing their swings higher, higher – trying to reach those elusive stars. Laura yelled, “Look! Reach out and grab one! You can catch it!” and at the same moment they both reached out a hand to the sky. The swings lost momentum and eventually they were still. They sat for a moment in silence.

Laura turned to the little girl and smiled, “Hi, I’m Laura”

The little girl shyly turned to Laura and responded, “My name is Melanie.” Then suddenly, abruptly, as if she remembered counsel to not talk to strangers, she jumped off the swing. “I’ve gotta go,” she said as she ran off, her pony tail swinging. “Bye . . .Laura” she added, her voice drifting in the twilight.

Laura almost doubled over with sudden pain as her heart felt the familiar yearning. “Stop it, Laura”, she reproached herself. “You can’t keep seeing your child in every little girl you meet.”

The beauty of the summer twilight was now lost on her as she morosely made her way back to the car. Laura resolved then and there never to go near a playground again.

Work the next day proved to be a necessary panacea. Learning the ropes in a new hospital occupied Laura’s mind until day’s end. Since she was unable to use her references from Vancouver General, she was forced to start as a beginning nurse, but Laura didn’t care. It was a job, a start, another step towards finding her daughter. It didn’t help that one of the doctors she was assigned to work with obviously found her very attractive.

“Hello”, he had said, “I love getting new assistants”. Her first assignment was emergency, and although it was a busy afternoon, it wasn’t busy enough to prevent unwelcome contact with Dr. Grant. “Call me Aaron”, he had demanded at their introduction, holding her hand just a little too long. He was very good looking, and obviously single, but Laura was apprehensive. The last thing she needed right now was a man’s romantic interest. Unless she could use him as a source of information:

And so it went over the next few days, Laura ignoring Aaron Grant, him trying to impress her and somehow break through her barriers. Finally on the fourth day he asked her, “Excuse me, Nurse Carey, is it just me, or do you find all members of the male sex obnoxious and unacceptable?”

At this, Laura was forced to laugh. In her embarrassment, she was unsure of how to reply, but then he added, “Can I take you out to dinner as a token of my innocence and my desire to simply get to know you better?”

Not knowing how to avoid the invitation without alienating a possible useful contact, Laura agreed to dinner the next night. Inside, however, she prayed, “Please, Adam, Please call. You must have some information by now.” But information or not, her treacherous heart was wishing, “please Adam, please call me.”

But no call came the next day. As Laura readied herself for her date with Dr. Grant, she thought about her options. She trusted Adam was trying to find out everything he could. Maybe money couldn’t buy everything after all. Perhaps Dr. Grant would be a better source of information. It was worth a try.

All through the dinner Laura maintained her guard. In spite of her initial misgivings, Dr. Grant proved to be a likeable companion who truly seemed to care about what she was thinking. It became increasingly hard to hold back. When they left the restaurant Aaron Grant had acquired an alarming amount of information on Laura’s past life and experiences. Nothing that mattered, of course, but enough to make her uneasy, resolving not to allow him to get any closer.

The next morning the phone jerked her shrilly from pleasant slumber. Upon hearing Adam’s voice she was abruptly fully awake.

“Hello, Laura. How are you?” He seemed to sincerely want to know, but she ignored his question.

“Have you found out anything?” she demanded.

He seemed disappointed by her reaction. “No, not really. I just wanted to let you know I’m working on it. I have a lawyer friend in Vancouver doing some digging, and other friends here in the city are making inquiries. I haven’t let out personal details, just enough to enable them to help us find answers. I feel confident that we will hear something very soon.”

“Oh.” She had been hoping for more. Patience. “Well, thanks for calling”, she added.

“Actually, I was wondering . . if you would join me for dinner tonight. I’d like to discuss the situation with you and perhaps together we can come up with more ideas.”

Warning bells rang in Laura’s head. “No!” screamed her brain. “Yes, alright” she heard her voice say. “Fool, fool” her brain chanted.

Fortunately it was her day off, for she spent the rest of the morning in a daze, mooning around the room like a lovesick teenager. Such behaviour would have been inappropriate and unacceptable in the hospital, especially under the watchful eye of Dr. Grant. Shortly after lunch the telephone rang again, sending Laura into a panic that Adam was calling to cancel. But it was Aaron Grant, his pleasant voice thanking her for a lovely evening and checking to see how she was. She struggled to sound normal in her replies, and thankfully he didn’t prolong the conversation, simply suggested that they would be seeing each other at work.

After his call, Laura sat meditating for a while. How could Dr. Grant help her? The idea struck her that perhaps hospital records might have been transferred from Vancouver to Edmonton when her baby was taken. Dr. Grant might have access to that information. Yes, it would be good to cultivate the friendship.

Meanwhile, Laura was feeling frustrated. Days were passing and her goal seemed no closer. She replayed the last seven years over and over in her head, searching for clues in every remembered conversation with her parents. She cursed herself for having been so distracted and not really paying attention during times when she might have discovered the truth. Again her heart ached as she wondered at her parents’ motivations. Had her emotional distress really been so intense that it led them to think her better off without her child? Had she said or done something to make them believe that was what she wanted? Or was it something else? What could have prompted them to take such a painful course of action?

A sudden thought occurred to Laura. Money. It had caused her to lose Adam. Was it money worries that motivated her parents? And yet, they seemed to have no shortage of money in Vancouver – there was plenty to buy a small home, put her through University, and enable her father to retire once they settled there. All at once a light illuminated her jumbled thoughts. Here was a clue she had missed!

Laura’s parents had no money. In all her years of growing up, of this one fact Laura was sure. Every extra penny went towards Laura’s future education, in hopes that she would find a good-paying job and never have to worry about her next dollar. Had Laura not worked hard in high school and earned a scholarship, her parents could not have sent her to first year university. But suddenly, in Vancouver, money was no longer a problem. Her dad had no job, yet they owned a house in spite of Vancouver’s inflated prices; and paid Laura’s tuition. Where had the money come from? Why had this never occurred to her before? Of course she knew the answer. She had been so intent on destroying her past, she hadn’t noticed what was happening in the present.

Laura thought back to that black day when she had told her parents she was pregnant. As her dad held her and stroked her back to quiet her sobs, he had promised; “I will do anything it takes. Anything to protect you and make sure you are never hurt again.” Then he had left the house, and although Laura had lain awake far into the night, she did not hear his return. The next day the decision to move to Vancouver had been made, and in the whirlwind of packing, Laura had never thought to question the how and the why.

Thinking back now, it had seemed so easy. Immediately after arriving in Vancouver they had a house to live in. It was only after her parent’s death that Laura had discovered the house had a clear title in her parent’s name. Among their financial records, Laura had found bank statements that showed a regular automatic monthly deposit of $2000.00. Laura had assumed that it was a pension of some sort, and in her rush to search for her daughter, had not investigated further. Now she wondered. Where was the money coming from? Where had they found the money to purchase a house? To make the move to Vancouver? Where had her father been that whole night before they left? Again she cursed her many years of lack of attention to important details.

Turning these things around and around in her brain didn’t appear to be leading to any useful conclusions, so finally Laura gave up. She resolved that first thing Monday she would contact her parent’s bank in Vancouver and try to trace that mysterious deposit. But now it was late, and time to get ready for her “date”:

Read The Voice next week for part three of Forgotten Promise. For submissions for the upcoming Voice student fiction column, contact voice@ausu.org.

Carla Johnson grew up in Western Canada. She loves to read and tell stories to her cousins and younger sisters; and especially loves creating mystery romance stories because love is like that. If she could change the world she would do it through peace, love and song. Her favourite pastime is baking goodies for her family and friends, riding her bike, traveling to new places, and staying up waaaaay past everyone else’s bedtime. She is not related to Johnson & Johnson product providers although she avidly uses most of them.

This week The Voice is pleased to introduce our new fiction feature.
To kick off the column, we have a special treat – Forgotten Promise, an original short novel by Carla Johnson which will be presented in five parts.

After the last installment we will begin running a piece of student fiction each week, so start sending in your submissions. Any form of creative writing is acceptable, including short stories and poems.

Part one:

Laura stood in front of the old red brick building uncertainly, trying to build up courage to enter. Was she doing the right thing after all this time? Perhaps she should have stayed in Vancouver and tried to handle it herself. As she wavered, the door burst open and a tall, elegant woman started down the steps. Laura shrunk back quickly in the shadow of the stairs. The years hadn’t changed Vicki too much. The haughty, beautiful face still wore the elegance of old money, the air of thinking herself far too good for the rest of the world. Vicki whirled back towards the entrance and tossed words back to someone inside. She spoke quietly but their sharpness cut through the air clearly.

“You’ll hear from my lawyers, and don’t expect to get off easy. You couldn’t have made it without my money.” Laura could not hear the reply, but her heart began to hammer as she realized who Vicki must be talking to.

Vicki turned and stalked away from the building, her perfect face set in an angry mask. She brushed past Laura in a whirl of designer clothes, the scent of her expensive perfume wafting through the air. Laura retreated further back into the shadows, but Vicki didn’t even glance in her direction. Her red Mercedes convertible was parked in the loading zone (typical Vicki thought Laura – total disregard for the law). As Vicki slammed the door and squealed away from the curb, Laura turned back toward the building with trepidation. Maybe this was not such a good idea. Obviously Adam had problems of his own. Laura stood indecisively in the shadows, then felt her stomach drop sickeningly as she recognized the tall figure coming towards the open door. Sudden crazy courage filled her and she turned and mounted the steps before she could change her mind, stepping inside the door before he reached it. She pulled the door shut behind her and faced him.

“Adam.” Was all she managed before she froze, her eyes hungrily taking in his appearance. His hair was still black, thick and curly, with that errant lock falling over his forehead. The tips of her fingers tingled as they remembered lovingly pushing back that stray, stroking the thickness of those curls in the heat of passion. She blinked as she shook away the image. His eyes seemed even blacker, perhaps a little colder. The handsome, chiselled lines of his face and the litheness of his body were still as she remembered; but now deep grooves of weariness and worry etched wrinkles around his eyes and mouth.

He stood without moving for a moment. She was beginning to think he didn’t recognize her when she saw the expression in his dark eyes. They had come alive suddenly and he was staring at her with a deep hunger and desire she had relived many times in her dreams, yet thought never to see again.

“Laura?” he whispered, unbelieving. Then she was in his arms, being crushed tightly against him. She felt his lips warm against hers and the years between them fell away. Again she was with him in the gazebo, the breeze gently drifting around them, whispering with the fragrance of lilacs and pine, mixing with the heady warm scent of his skin against hers. She shivered as she felt his fingers burning into her flesh of her back, their heat leaving an imprint through the fabric of her dress.

“Nooo!” she murmured against his lips as her arm went up around his chest to push him away. Instead, her treacherous arm pulled him closer, desire overcoming her momentarily. But good sense washed icy droplets over her suddenly and she broke free of his embrace. He refused to release her totally, still keeping her encircled in his arms, gazing at her face as if he couldn’t get enough. His eyes slowly began to caress the length of her body, and something flickered in his expression. Was it dissatisfaction with her appearance?

Self-consciously her hand started up towards her hair, then she angrily pulled it away. In a sudden flash of memory, she saw herself in the mirror – fresh from his betrayal, scissors in hand, her waist-length auburn hair lying forlorn and scattered on the bathroom floor at her feet. As if chopping it off could cut away the memories of his hands caressing it, twisting long fistfuls around his fingers.

“Never cut it Laura…keep it long for me forever”, he had whispered.

Forever had ended abruptly. But during the last few months she had been too lost in pain to pay attention to her personal appearance, and her hair had started to grow out, now falling lightly to her shoulders. She had never considered herself beautiful, but the years had given her a maturity of face and figure that made her now an attractive woman, not the pretty, awkward teenager he had known. Her large, deep-set green eyes were still her most arresting feature, but years of bitter experience, betrayal and hurt had blurred their clarity and innocence.

He painfully pulled his eyes back to her face, to meet hers. “I can’t believe it, Laura. I gave up hope long ago of finding you. Why did you leave me?” he demanded.

Laura pushed herself fully away from him and spoke abruptly, the betrayal and anger of seven years churning to the surface as she replied,

“Do you really not know the answer to that question?”

She was rewarded by a sudden ashamed look as he dropped his gaze. He hesitated, then once again met her look straight on.

“What can I say, Laura? Sorry is not a good enough word. If there were even a way to put it in words. I was a young fool, as I’ve learned these years. I learned too much too late. Believe me, I’ve suffered for the choice I made.”

“Like you even know the meaning of the word “?suffer'” she thought. Briefly she felt a pang of guilt at her uncharitableness. Obviously Adam didn’t have a perfect life. But as quickly as the thought intruded, she banished it. She could not allow any hint of sympathy, nor could she permit any feelings of compassion. Anger had been her only resource for survival. She had to remain hard and accomplish her purpose. Adam did not know the meaning of the word suffer.

She drew a deep breath and pulled herself back mentally.

“Adam, I came here for a specific reason. We can’t change the past, it’s gone. I never intended to come back. God knows I’ve tried to kill my feelings for you after what you did to me. . .” her voice trailed off, and then she got hold of herself again. “Recently things changed for me. I really need to talk to you. I….I need….your help. It….involves you…..I have nowhere else to turn”. She stopped speaking, biting her lower lip nervously. How was the best way to broach this? He really was a stranger to her in so many ways, living a life even more distant than before. He had a wife, one that obviously had a great deal of power. Would he be willing to help her? More importantly, could she maintain the necessary distance? She had been totally unprepared for her emotional lapse.

“You know I will do anything in my power to help you. But let’s not stand here discussing things, where anyone could interrupt.” He glanced briefly at the door, and it was apparent what kind of interruption he was referring to. He continued, “We can have privacy upstairs in my apartment.”

Laura glanced around for the first time, taking in the impressive, high ceilings and long narrow windows. A bright, wide open area, dotted with drafting tables. The late afternoon sun was now stretching its shadows across the patina of the polished hardwood floor, creating an aura of mysterious elegance. The aged grandeur of the building had been restored to perfection: the ultimate creative environment for Adam. He had always said that perfect architecture required a humble respect for the past.

She turned back to him. “Apartment?” She said in a puzzled tone, “What about your beautiful home?” How many hours they had planned it together? How often had they sat side by side in the tall grass on the vacant lot, gazing at the reflection of the city lights in the river below, dreaming of the day their house would become reality. But the reality had turned out to be marriage to Vicki. Reality had been an end to Laura’s dreams.

“Vicki and her .. ah.. friends enjoy it. I spend so much time here that I converted the top floor into an apartment, and I usually stay there. She doesn’t join me here, in case you’re wondering.”

He saw her look of surprise and disbelief, and added, “she was here today because I invited her to discuss . . ” he hesitated, “something. A divorce, in fact. We haven’t shared our lives for some time.” He made no further comment, and Laura said nothing, unwilling to consider the possibilities his words brought up. Right now she had only one goal in mind.

“Let’s go then”, she agreed.

He locked the door and led her down the hall to the elevator. “I usually have a receptionist at the front and the room full of assistants, but we shut down early because of a civic holiday tomorrow.” He placed his hand lightly on her back to escort her into the elevator, and once again the warmth seemed to burn through her, a sharp contrast the chill she had felt in her bones since arriving in Edmonton and its accompanying memories. They rode in silence to the top.

“Welcome to my home, Laura.” He said as he opened the apartment door. His eyes were warm and inviting, but Laura forced herself to look away. She had to try not to let her emotions rise to the fore. Too much had happened and she knew she mustn’t let desire distract her thinking.

It was a beautiful apartment, tastefully decorated. The same high, elegant ceilings and long windows, the warm patina of aged wood panelling. It seemed exactly the kind of place Laura herself would choose. Her eyes were drawn like a magnet to the coffee table.

“Yes, Laura, I keep it where I can see it everyday.” He came up behind her, not touching her, but uncomfortably close. It was a Mexican piggy bank – she had found it in a little import shop and had given it to Adam at his graduation, jokingly telling him, “This is to start saving your millions.” Now she refused to consider the implications behind his words and forced a little laugh.

“It must have outgrown its usefulness long ago.”

“Yes, financially and professionally, I’ve been a success. I’ve got all the material things any man could want. What I don’t have . .” he placed his hands on her shoulders to turn her around to face him, but she twisted away from him and crossed the room to sit on one of the plush velvet couches.

“I told you I’m here for a reason. I must talk to you, Adam. And I want to make it clear right now, we can’t pick up where we left off. You finished what was between us a long time ago. You have a wife. You made your choice. Please don’t make this any harder for me.”

He took a slow breath, then sighed in defeat. “Alright, Laura, we will talk. It’s just….you….I….I thought I would never..” He broke off, then pulled away from his moment of weakness.

“Look, Laura, have you had dinner?” He seemed eager to prolong the moment. “My housekeeper always leaves me something prepared, and I think we’d both be more comfortable if we ate first, then talked later.” He paused, hesitant again. “Please, Laura?” he added.

“But . . . ” Laura started to protest that food was far from her mind, but then realized that her stomach churnings were in part due to hunger. She hadn’t been able to eat on the plane, in fact had not really eaten for days. Perhaps the ritual of sharing a meal would make her less nervous. Maybe he was right. Adam was always a practical man first. Ignoring the warning bells, she agreed. “Alright, we’ll eat first, then talk”.

“You mix the drinks while I change.” he ordered, taking off his tie and jacket as he headed down the hall.

His confidence that she had not forgotten what he drank irked her; all the more because it was true. She went to the sideboard and found the scotch. “Nothing but the best”, she thought as she read the label. Yes, he obviously was a financial success. All the better for what she needed. She poured two drinks of scotch – he had taught her to share his taste in alcohol as well; and went into the kitchen in search of ice. She was returning to the living room when Adam opened the kitchen door and almost collided with her.

“Sorry”, she mumbled as she pulled back from his touch, “just getting ice.” He had changed into more casual clothes, dark pants and a white shirt that emphasized his dark eyes and made the honey glow of his tan stand out.

Laura started to blush as she realized he was looking her over as well; and was glad she had worn a dress. He had always liked her in a dress, and she knew she looked good in the one she was wearing. She felt an absurd rush of pleasure, then quashed it “I’m just softening him up”, she said to herself, unwilling to derive any satisfaction from his admiring gaze.

“You’ve become a beautiful woman, Laura.” The corner of his mouth began to twitch, dimpling his cheek. “I can see in your eyes that you like the way I look too.”

Embarrassed, Laura dropped her eyes and said in a low voice, “Well, you always were the handsomest man I knew.” She handed him the glass of scotch and pushed past him through the doorway, pausing and turning to add, “and the most conceited, too.”

He turned back to the kitchen, his harsh laugh following her return to the living room. It sounded rusty and unused. By the looks of him, he didn’t laugh often any more. How she wished she could shut out the memories of the happy times they had spent before laughter had turned to tears. “Get a hold of yourself, Laura! Just get the job done, remember.” But as she leaned back into the plush sofa and sipped her drink, the wildly painted piggy bank mocked her, flooding her mind with uncontrolled memories.

How he had laughed with her when she gave him the bank. “Yes,” he said, “I’ll have my million. You know what I want from life. But I want it for us, and for our children.” Then he had dazzled her with his smile and held her close. They walked, and somehow ended up in his parent’s garden gazebo. There he had kissed her and made love to her, his promises making her heart sing, passion carrying them away into mindless ecstasy.

Less than a month later, as she lay dreamily by his side in the warm late summer evening, Laura’s life was shattered into little pieces as Adam calmly and coolly told her he was going to marry Vicki Robinson.

“I knew you would understand”, he had told her. “I need money and connections to set up my practice, and with her father’s help I’ll soon have my career exactly where I want it. It’s my golden opportunity. You know me, Laura; you know what success means to me. Surely you understand, and we can sacrifice ourselves for a while”.

She didn’t comprehend at first what he meant, just stared in bewilderment, tears rolling down her face. But then he kissed away her tears and said, “You’re the only one I’ll ever love, Laura. Don’t you understand? I’m doing this for us. My marriage will really only be in name. Surely you can’t imagine I’d want to make love to that cold piece of glass.”

A sudden wave of horror made her physically sick as she slowly realized what he was asking of her. All his sweet words about life and children together were lies. She pushed him away, and with a calmness that surprised her, told him, “Yes, Adam, I understand. To you a career and money come first. It’s always been money. You never intended that I be part of your world. I thought I knew you, but I was mistaken. The man I was in love with doesn’t exist. Goodbye, Adam.” Her voice caught on a sob, and she got to her feet. She walked away, forcing herself not to turn around, for if she had looked back and seen the hurt expression in his eyes, she knew she would have turned around and promised him anything. Anything not to lose him.

But she didn’t turn around. She forced herself to concentrate on Vicki. He was going to marry Vicki. Vicki. The rich spoiled heiress who always got what she wanted. And poor little Laura from the “wrong side of town”? He wanted her to wait around for him. In what capacity? Lover? Mistress? Lady-in-waiting? Perhaps he intended to install her as a housekeeper/mistress in his home.

Her heart began to bleed and pain enveloped her as she started blindly running through the grass. Her only thought was, “run, run away. It won’t hurt if I keep running”. And as she ran, the sky darkened with the grey clouds of a coming thunderstorm. Flashes of lightening began to tear across the sky, the dark rumble of thunder roared in her ears, and the sky opened up, the warm rain washing the salt tears from her face. On she ran, heedless of the wind whipping her hair wildly around, the blackness of the sky matching the emptiness inside, each illuminating crash of light stabbing deeply into her heart. On she ran, hopelessly attempting to escape, the rain soaking her clothing as she splashed through the puddles. The headlights of an approaching car caught her before she almost stumbled off the curb onto the street, stopping her mad dash.

Mindlessly she slowed to a dejected walk. Her life was over. The storm raged unabated around her, but she no longer felt the wind or the rain. At some point during that long lonely night trek, she felt something surround her. A protective wall. A new emotion. A way to survive. Somehow she found herself at her back porch. She gave a prayer of thanks that her parents were asleep as she stumbled into her room. Tomorrow. Tomorrow there would be more things to run from.

But running no longer seemed a possible solution the next day when she woke up violently ill. After the nausea passed, she splashed cold water on her face and realized she no longer had a choice. She had to face her parents and tell them the truth.

Their eager smiles awaited her when she finally stumbled down the stairs. They raised hopeful eyes, awaiting the good news – that she had set the wedding date. Laura felt as if her hopelessness and despair was colouring her as black as last night’s thunderclouds, but they seemed to notice nothing. Her heart plummeted as she contemplated how to break the news.

She poured herself a coffee and slowly sat at the table, mumbling a good morning.

Her parents were old-fashioned, loving but strict. They had always made Laura feel that they would stand by her no matter what, but that she better not break the rules or else. Laura didn’t know what to expect. She took a deep breath and with trepidation, broached the subject.

“Dad, I . . .I have to tell you and mom something. I love you and I know you love me, but I’ve done something . . .” her voice tapered off as her courage deserted her.

“Laura honey, what are you trying to say? Is it you and Adam? Have you called off the wedding?” My mother gasped.

“No….Yes….No….I mean…it’s not….” Laura stumbled over the words, realizing that this was going to be harder than she thought. Frantically she lifted pleading eyes to her mother, her hands moved protectively to her abdomen. “Mom….I’m….” Sudden comprehension dawned in her mother’s eyes, and she turned to look at her husband.

“No!” was all her dad said. A silence enveloped the room. Finally her mother reached over and covered Laura’s hand with her own.

“Well,” she said, in a practical way, trying to find a neat resolution to the problem, “we will move up the wedding date.”

“You don’t understand”, Laura said. “There isn’t going to be a wedding. He’s marrying someone else.” With that bald statement of betrayal she broke down. How could she go on?

Mom and Dad were her salvation. Within days they were off to a new life in Vancouver. Laura was blind with grief and did not know how to endure the hours, days, weeks and months ahead. She did not question anything they did or anything they said. Too late she realized what a mistake that had been. But at the time she was happy to let them take care of her. To let them hide her and heal her.

As weeks turned into months, her unborn child became her comfort, her salvation. As she sat dreaming, her parents often looked at her with strange expressions, as if assessing her mental state. They often talked late into the night, voices a low murmur across the hall. But they never shared their thoughts with Laura, and she shut everything out. She concentrated on the new life inside her. Soon she would always have a piece of her beloved with her.

The night they took her to the hospital she was overcome with conflicting emotions. How she longed for Adam. How eagerly she awaited their child. Then the black nightmare descended. After an eternity of screaming pain, Laura awoke to a quiet voice telling her,

“Supper’s ready!” She blinked, startled, as Adam’s voice brought her back to reality. “Focus on what you must do!” She said to herself. “Stop drifting!”

They made small talk as they ate. Laura tried to completely blot out her awareness of Adam, keeping things deliberately casual and light. Carefully skirting around anything too personal, they discussed what they were doing with their lives. She told Adam about going back to school and getting a nursing degree, specializing in psychiatric nursing, and about her work with disturbed children. In turn he told her about his successful architectural firm, the many projects completed, and the wonderful buildings that would forever bear witness to his vision.

He told her a little about some of the people who worked for him: his partner Jerry and Jerry’s family, his housekeeper, and her little granddaughter, who in particular seemed to have caught his interest. Perhaps Laura’s discussion of her work with disturbed children brought the subject on, and he told her of this unusual, artistic and sensitive child. In answer to her unspoken question, he confirmed that he and Vicki had no children of their own. Pain flashed in his eyes at his admission, but Laura did not question any further.

All too soon the temporary respite dinner offered had ended. Adam seemed more relaxed. Laura, however, felt even more tense and ill at ease. Many times over the last few days she had rehearsed what she would say, but now she could not speak.

He poured her another glass of wine, and standing, took her hand and led her back to the sofa. He sat next to her, but not too close, sensing her tension. Without releasing her hand, he turned to face her. “Well, Laura?” He prompted her, “How can I help you?”

The warmth of his eyes made her legs turn to Jello, and she forgot all the practiced speech. “Adam :” she hesitated, “I..I need you to help me,” she paused, then blurted out, “I need you to help me find our daughter!”

Read The Voice next week for part two of Carla Johnson’s Forgotten Promise.

For submissions for the upcoming Voice student fiction column, contact voice@ausu.org.