The Surrogate

Except for a ten-thousand-dollar bequest to Ginger, six-year-old Jamie was the sole recipient of her father’s estate, and it didn’t take Ginger long to realize that being named her sister’s guardian was an answer to her prayers. She sold her stepfather’s interest in the flight school and his family home on Galveston Island, and-so that little Jamie could have a room of her own-bought a brand-new house with a swimming pool in north Dallas and promised herself that she would do right by the kid.

Ginger tried to love the little girl. Or at least like her. But she became pregnant with twins and, what with feeling so damned tired all the time and decorating her new home, she just didn’t have the energy. Sometimes she forgot to pick Jamie up at school, and the school secretary would call to remind her, her voice icy with disapproval. One day Ginger got a note from the school nurse saying that Jamie’s shoes were too small and as a result she was suffering from severely ingrown toenails and needed to be taken to a podiatrist.

Ginger decided the kid was bound to feel more at home with their grandmother Gladys and started leaving Jamie in Mesquite for longer and longer periods of time until Gladys finally hired an attorney. By the time Gladys had been granted permanent custody of Jamie, the money that was supposed to pay for raising her was almost gone. The lawyer suggested that Gladys sue Ginger on Jamie’s behalf. The court could force Ginger to sell her house and whatever else she had bought with the money.

“I can’t do that,” Gladys told the lawyer. “Ginger is my granddaughter, too.”

Gladys was then well into her seventies. She didn’t much believe in asking the Lord for favors but did suggest in her nightly prayer that it would sure be nice if she could live long enough to get the child raised.

Jamie understood that her sister had not wanted her and that her grandmother had decided to do what was best for her. It took her a while to realize that her grandmother also loved her. Gra

Being raised by an elderly grandmother made Jamie different from the other kids. A few of her classmates also lived with their grandmothers, but those grandmothers weren’t elderly. They didn’t wear cotton dresses that had been washed so many times the printed flowers had almost faded away. They didn’t wear their granddaughter’s outgrown athletic shoes. They didn’t clean houses to supplement their Social Security checks.

And there was the matter of Jamie’s height. She was the tallest kid in her grade until some of the boys caught up with her in high school, and it didn’t help a bit that her last name was Long. By the time she finished growing, she was five feet ten.

Jamie had always loved to run. Gra

Joe Brammer lived in Houston but every summer came to spend a month with his grandparents. Joe was almost six years older than Jamie, and his grandparents would send him over to help with the heavy stuff, like pruning trees, digging out a stump, changing a tire, or hauling off a broken-down washing machine. Gra

Joe was right. Jamie had excellent times for both long and middle distances. And was competitive at the long jump.

High school was better than grade school. She felt at home with the other girls on the track team, some of whom were as tall as or taller than she was. They called one another on the telephone and went to the movies together. One girl, Charlene, even became her best friend, and they often slept over at each other’s houses and both worked Saturdays at the VIP Car Wash.

Jamie never had a boyfriend, though. Never had a real date. Sometimes this or that boy would hang out around her locker between classes and act like maybe he wanted to say more than “Hi” or “See you in class,” but she always pretended she didn’t notice. The only boy she ever had romantic thoughts about was Joe Brammer, which was silly of her. She knew Joe’s feelings for her were of the big-brother variety, but maybe when she was older…

By this time, however, Joe was in college and working summers as an oil-field roustabout. The only time he came to Mesquite was with his parents for Thanksgiving, Easter, and an occasional weekend. There were no more foot races or shooting hoops in the driveway. But instead of thinking about him less, thoughts of Joe were always there at some level of Jamie’s consciousness. In her mind she would playact entire conversations with him. When she closed her eyes at night, she imagined more than conversations.

Whenever he was in town Joe would come over to pay his respects to Jamie and her grandmother and admire Jamie’s growing collection of track medals. He said he didn’t feel quite so bad now that she had beat him whenever they raced to the highway and back.

Easter weekend during Jamie’s junior year, Joe stopped by like always. He asked Jamie about school and track and inquired about Gra

“If you went to law school, would you stay in Austin or go out of state?” she asked Joe, thinking that if she got a track scholarship to UT and he was a law student there, they might see each other from time to time. Maybe he would stop thinking of her as a kid sister of sorts if she were a college student.

“I’m not sure,” Joe answered. “The girl I’m going with is majoring in broadcast journalism. If she gets a job out of state, I might apply someplace else.”

“Oh,” was all Jamie could say. She felt as though all the air had gone out of her lungs. As though her bones had gone soft. When she stumbled, Joe grabbed her arm, but as soon as she got her balance he let go.