Judith Wall - The Surrogate

When her turn came, the plump female clerk studied the form Jamie handed her. “Are you Janet Marie Wisdom?” she asked.

By way of an answer, Jamie handed the woman the newly arrived birth certificate.

The woman looked it over then asked, “Have you ever been married or used another name?” Her tone of voice suggested she had asked that same question many times before.

“No.”

“Have you ever applied for a Social Security number before?” the woman asked in the same bored voice.

“My parents are deceased,” Jamie said, with no idea at all if Janet Wisdom’s parents were still alive. “I don’t know if they ever obtained a Social Security number for me or not,” she fabricated. “I was raised by my aunt and uncle in Canada and haven’t needed one until now.”

The woman attached a note to the application. “We’ll have to research it and see if you’ve already been assigned a number,” she said.

“How long will that take?” Jamie asked.

“Two to three weeks,” the woman said. Then she looked over Jamie’s shoulder and called the next number.

Mrs. Duffy was sitting on the front porch when she returned to the apartment house.

“Hey, Janet, I’ve got some fresh sandwich fixings,” she said as she struggled to her feet. “You bring that baby inside and nurse him while I set out lunch.”

“That’s very nice of you,” Jamie said, thinking how strange it was to be called by another name.

She followed the woman through her cluttered living room to the kitchen. On the refrigerator door was a large, colored picture of Amanda Tutt Hartmann.

Jamie gasped.

“Isn’t that the most wonderful picture!” Ruby exclaimed. “I ordered it from Alliance headquarters in Virginia.”

WHEN THE TIME finally arrived for Jamie to call Mrs. Brammer once again, she and Billy rode the bus east to Shawnee, a small town with huge grain elevators towering over it. If anyone was monitoring the Brammers’ phone calls, they would have realized that Jamie was living in central Oklahoma, but she was determined that they would not be able to pinpoint her location any more closely than that. Next time, if there was a next time, she planned to go farther east, rather than always fanning out from Oklahoma City.

Like before, Mrs. Brammer answered on the fourth ring.

“Oh, Jamie,” she said. “Joe called, but Art and I weren’t home so he called our next-door neighbor just to make sure we were okay. He was calling from someplace in Turkey and said it would probably be a couple of weeks before he called again. With that in mind, Art and I decided we’d head over to Arkansas for a little fishing. I hope that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it is,” Jamie said, trying to conceal her disappointment. “I hope you have a wonderful time.”

“Is your…your situation still the same?” Mrs. Brammer asked.

“Yes, still the same. But I’m okay for now,” Jamie said halfheartedly. “Enjoy your trip, and I’ll call in two weeks. If you’re not back, I’ll try the following week.”

“Jamie, it seems to me that whatever your trouble is, you probably need someone with an established law practice. Joe has a law degree but has yet to take the bar exam. And I know I said that Joe was coming home this summer, but I don’t want you to count on that. We really have no idea what his plans are. He has an inheritance from his great-aunt and can do pretty much what he wants. He might even decide to take another course at Oxford, so I really think you need to find someone on this side of the ocean to help you.”

“You may be right,” Jamie allowed. “It’s just so complicated. I’m afraid someone else might think I’m crazy or paranoid.”

The bus was only half full for the ride back to Oklahoma City. Jamie sat in the rear and went over the conversation with Mrs. Brammer, who was probably getting weary of all the intrigue. Just as Jamie herself was. After all, she was not in jail. Other than the abrupt cancellation of her bank account, she had no evidence that anyone was looking for her or following her or plotting her demise.

Then she remembered how she had felt at that ATM machine in Liberal, Kansas-like a housefly that was about to be swatted. She could not begin to imagine the power and resources of someone who had the ability to manipulate other people’s lives in such a manner.

Jamie felt almost angry with Joe. He was off having the time of his life while she was having the worst of hers. What was the point of all this waiting around for him anyway, she asked herself. He had earned a law degree but he wasn’t a practicing attorney. He hadn’t even taken the bar exam. What could he do? What could anyone do to change her “situation”? She was living in limbo, and maybe she would have to settle for such an existence for years and years to come. To settle for always being afraid. Always thinking that disaster was just around the next corner.

She looked down at Billy, who was the reason for it all. What a confusing, frightening, catastrophic mess her life was in, yet at its center was love.

Evelyn Washburn watched through the screen door as the two nice-looking young men in dark suits walked down the front walk toward their car. With a sigh, she closed the door and headed for the kitchen.

She sat at the bar and picked up the telephone, anxious to tell her daughter and son-in-law about the two visitors.

Evelyn started to dial their number in Houston, then remembered that Millie and Art were on a trip. Millie was good about checking in every few days when they were away from home, but Evelyn wished that they weren’t so stubborn about getting a cell phone. It was ridiculous for them not to have one in this day and age. And a computer, for goodness sake! Some folks were so old-fashioned.

She opened the sliding-glass door and stepped out onto the patio, where she had been watering her potted plants and hanging baskets before the two men rang her doorbell and flashed their badges. She turned on the hose and went over the strange encounter in her mind while she finished up. The badges had certainly looked official and the men were very polite, but the entire encounter had made her uncomfortable.

She had answered their questions but volunteered nothing. Yes, she and her husband had been neighbors of Jamie Long and her grandmother, but they hadn’t seen or heard from Jamie since her grandmother’s funeral. And no, her grandson Joe had never dated the girl.

When Evelyn finished watering the plants, she paused to admire her yard. Everything was so green and lush in Georgia. In Mesquite, it had been a battle to keep a pretty yard throughout the long, hot summer.

She went inside to wash some salad greens and start dinner. Shortly, she heard the garage door opening and dried her hands. “Good haircut,” she said as her husband came through the door.

She accepted his peck on her cheek. “The strangest thing happened,” she told him as she took her usual perch at the bar and watched as Paul poured two glasses of wine.

In the middle of her story, the phone rang. Evelyn had a feeling that it might be Millie.

“Hi, Mother. How’s it going?” her daughter’s voice asked.

“Where are you?” Evelyn asked.

“In Texarkana. We’re having car trouble and will be here overnight.”

“Well, I’m glad you called,” Evelyn said. “I have something rather disturbing to tell you.”

Ruby Duffy continued to make overtures of friendship toward “Janet” and little Billy, but Jamie found herself making excuses when the landlady invited her for lunch or dinner. Or offered her a ride to the grocery store, even though it would have made her life easier. She was fearful of giving herself away, what with the web of lies she had created around herself, and was disturbed by Ruby’s adoration of Amanda Hartmann, whose name she seemed to work into every conversation.