22,700 ~ 25,500

“You look like you could use a drink,” Evelyn said as Sam followed her to the kitchen. “Unfortunately, all I have is sweet tea and water.” She continued with a laugh, trying to lighten Sam’s mood.
 

“Just water, please, Ma’am,” Sam said as she sat down hard at the kitchen table.

Evelyn knew that she had dropped a bomb on Sam. In the last two minutes, Sam had learned a lot. Or at the very least, she had assumed a lot. So, R.G and J.T. were girls. In truth, this took Evelyn by surprise. She could only guess what it had done to Sam. Her mother was J.T. Of course, the plus sign and the heart could have been drawn out of innocence. The 1950s were an innocent time. Girls didn’t think of each other in a romantic sense. Today kids used the term ‘BFF’ maybe that’s what the girls meant. Or maybe not. Evelyn was sure that the ‘maybe not’ was what was eating at Sam.

Sam pulled out her iPhone and pressed the appropriate buttons to send a picture of her discovery to Malin. She needed perspective and she knew Malin could provide it.

“Well, where does this leave you with your search?” asked Evelyn, treading lightly.

“I really don’t know. I know more, but it’s not getting me any closer to where Ruth is today. I guess I’ll pick up where I left off. I was planning to hit the school district office to see if I could get access to a yearbook or even a forwarding address from the Alumni Association. I know the address is an extremely long shot. I settle for knowing where she planned to go to college. If she even went to college…”. Sam’s voice trailed off. She was suddenly tired and could feel the anger creeping back into her psyche. Part of her felt that, given the new information, she HAD to find Ruth because she wanted to know the truth and her mother would likely never tell her the truth. Jean would close herself off and never discuss any of this with her ever again. Another part of her wanted to get in the Xterra and drive back to Texas and never think about it again. Either way, she was at a veritable dead-end.

“Ruth would have gone to school where? South Ham?”, Evelyn asked.

“Yes, Ma’am. At least that’s what we, my cousin and I, assume. It’s where my aunt went before they moved to Michigan. We figured they all probably lived pretty close and would have gone to the same high school.”

Evelyn walked over to the wall, picked up a phone handset, and punched in a number. She stood leaning on the counter even though the curly-cue cord would have reached halfway to the living room. Sam smiled and chuckled slightly. Who had a land-line anymore, she thought.

“Land-line, right? I just can’t give it up. We’ve had this same number for twenty-five years. Jake always laughs at me, too,” Evelyn said while she waited for the other party to pick up.

“Cynthia Campbell, please,” Evelyn spoke into the phone. She held the handset away from her mouth and said to Sam, “My daughter-in-law. She works for SHISD.”

Sam sat up straighter in her chair. What a stroke of luck! Knowing someone on the inside would assuredly get her access to more information. It always helped the characters in her novels.

“Cin, hey it’s Evelyn. Good, good. I have a bit of a strange request. You know those R.G./J.T’s at the house? Well, J.T.’s daughter is here trying to track down R.G.,” Evelyn paused to listen a moment.

“It’s crazy I know. Listen. She thinks R.G. - her real name is Ruth Goldman - went to South Ham back in the late 50s, early 60s. Would you have access to old yearbooks or anything that might give Sam her next clue?” Evelyn paused to listen again.

Evelyn smiled and gave Sam a thumbs-up. “Uh-huh. Ok. I’m going to send her your way. Thanks a bunch. See you on Saturday for Trent’s tee-ball game!”

She hung up the phone and turned to Sam. “Cindy’s an accountant with the school district, but she knows everyone. If there’s information out there that’s not confidential or protected, she’ll find it for you.”

“Evelyn, I don’t know how to thank you. This is great!”

Evelyn walked Sam to the door and gave her directions to the school district office. Sam called out to Kate who had been busy playing with her new friend. About that time, her phone buzzed. Malin. Sam silenced the phone and shook Evelyn’s hand. Evelyn pulled her into a quick hug.

“God bless and good luck, Sam. Everything will be ok. You’ll see. Will you let me know what you find out? You’ve got my curiosity piqued.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I will. Thank you!”

~

 

Sam debated calling Malin back, but decided it would be best to wait until after her visit with Evelyn’s daughter-in-law. Sam couldn’t believe her luck. First the old letters, and now a connection at the South Ham school district. Things were definitely going Sam’s way, but she refused to get her hopes up. Addresses and other personal information were not usually public record and Sam assumed all that would be protected and thus inaccessible to her. Realistically, the path could end right here. She could fail right here.

Sam was no stranger to failure, especially where her mother was concerned. To Jean, Sam’s life was a succession of failures - no ‘real’ career, no spouse, no children, no advanced degree. That was how Jean determined success. Best selling novels and USTA tennis rankings were not on her radar. Jean felt that those were distractions that took Sam’s focus away from what really mattered in life. However this time, something in Sam didn’t want to fail. This whole wild goose chase was being funded by Sam’s success. If not for a best selling novel or two, Sam wouldn’t be here right now cruising down the tree lined streets of Hamilton, Ohio. She wouldn’t have been able to afford to grant this damn Bucket List Wish. Maybe if she was successful, thought Sam, Jean would finally change her mind about Sam’s choice of career. Or maybe she wouldn’t. That, Sam knew, was out of her control. Success or failure, Jean could stay the cast iron bitch she’d always been.

Regardless, Sam was going to try. She would follow the trail, as Malin had suggested, until there were no more leads. At the very least, Sam could say that she’d done her best. It wouldn’t be good enough for Jean, but it would be good enough for Malin. It had been a long time since Sam had worried about being ‘good enough’ for someone. Damn, Malin, thought Sam. Damn her.

Sam pulled into the ISD parking lot and shot Malin a quick text - “Working a new lead. I’ll call when I’m thru.” She didn’t want Malin to worry about her or think that she was in a twist about the R.G./J.T. heart thing. Sam also wanted her to know that she wasn’t blowing her off and not returning her calls. For some reason, this had become important to Sam. Sam rolled down a window and told Kate she’d have to sit this one out.

Sam opened one of the deeply tinted glass doors and let her eyes adjust to the fluorescent lighting in the office. She approached the counter and spoke to the young, attractive receptionist.

“I’m here to see Cynthia Campbell. I think she’s expecting me. Samantha Stephens.”

“Oh yes, she is. Let me page her for you,” she paused a moment then looked back up at Sam. “Samantha Stephens? Like the writer?”

For an instant, Sam wanted to give her usual denial. The last thing she wanted right now was to be distracted by a fan. Sam loved her fans, but this wasn’t the time or the place for discussing characters, her next book, and what it was like to be on the New York Times Best Seller List. Or was it. She remembered what Chris (or was it Malin?) had said about playing the famous author card. If it could be used to her advantage, it might be worth it. Sam made her decision.

“Yes, Ma’am. Just like the writer,” Sam said with a smile.

“Oh my God. No way. Shit. I mean, shoot. Let me page Cindy for you,” the receptionist stammered.

Sam was had always been fairly non-plussed by famous people. They put their pants on one leg at a time just like everyone else. Sam refused to think that they were special in any way. Since becoming ‘Samantha J. Stephens, the best selling novelist’, Sam had met her share of famous people. With the exception of certain professional tennis players, she was largely unimpressed. When Sam ran into fans, she always had to remind herself that not everyone was like her. Some people loved meeting ‘famous’ people. Sam generally put that term in air quotes when referring to herself. She didn’t see herself as ‘famous’, at least not as famous as most famous people. Truly the great thing about being a writer to Sam was that she was seldom recognized so she didn’t have to deal with fans all that often outside of book signings and promotional interviews.

Sam heard the page on the overhead, said a polite thank you, and stepped away from the counter to wait.

“I’ve read all your books. My mom loves you, too, even though Nic is gay. The only gay people she likes are you, Nic, and Ellen. This is so incredible. I can’t believe THE Samantha J. Stephens in right here in Hamilton, Ohio,” the young receptionist continued to stammer.

Thankfully, a woman approached. She was about Sam’s height but appeared to be a few pounds heavier. She had a friendly smile and approached Sam with a hand extended.

“Cindy Campbell.”

“Samantha Stephens. Sam. Thank you so much for meeting me”.

“Oh my God! Cindy! This is Samantha Stephens, the writer. The writer. You know, Nicola Martin? She writes Nicola Martin!”

“No, Tess, I didn’t know that,” Cindy turned to Sam with a ‘sorry’ in her eyes and said, “Come on. Follow me.”

When they got out of earshot, Cindy apologized for the receptionist’s enthusiasm.

“No worries. Doesn’t happen very often, but it’s kind of cool when it does.”

“Give her an autograph on your way out. You’ll make her life,” Cindy laughed. She led Sam through a series of burgundy cubicles to an office in the back corner. Cindy sat at her desk and indicated to Sam to pull up a chair.

“Ok, so you’re looking for someone your mother went to school with?”

Sam gave Cindy a quick run-down. She was getting better at telling the story quickly.

“Cool. So this is where the path has led so far.”

“I’m really hoping you can shed some light on where Ruth went after high school. I know it’s long shot.”

“What year would she have graduated?” Cindy inquired.

“Well, she and my mom were the same year. 1961. But I don’t even know if she finished high school here. She may have moved like my mom did…” Sam’s voice trailed off. Whenever she really thought about it, she tended to become discouraged.

“Alright. Well, let’s see.” Cindy turned to her computer and clicked the mouse a few times. “Let’s check the graduation roll from 1961. You said her name is Ruth Goldman?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Ruth Ann Goldman”.

“Ah-ha! Here we go. Ruth Ann Goldman graduated with the Class of ‘61. Hmm… But no recent address is listed”.

“What about in the yearbook. Would there be any indication of where she wanted to do after graduation?” asked Sam.

“It’s possible. We’ve got all the yearbooks lining the walls of the conference room. Come on. Let’s go have a look.”

They walked about of the office and back through the maze of cubicles to the other side of the building. They passed an older woman sitting at a desk outside the superintendent’s office.

Cindy stopped suddenly and turned. “Mrs. Savage? What year did you graduate from South Ham?”

“Now deary, that’s impolite to ask. I know you can do the math and figure out how old I am,” the older woman said with a smile.

“1962. Forever ago, it seems. We’re planning our fiftieth reunion. Fiftieth! Can you girls even imagine?”

Sam immediately saw where Cindy was going with this line of questioning. If this woman, Mrs. Savage, graduated in 1962, she might have known Ruth or at the very least known of her. It was a stretch, but she might know where she went after leaving South Hamilton.

“No, Ma’am, not even close. Mrs. Savage, this is Samantha Stephens. She’s looking for a woman who graduated in 1961. I thought you might remember her,” Cindy said.

“Well, deary, my memory isn’t what it used to be, but we can give it a try.”

“Her name was, is, Ruth Ann Goldman.”

“Ruthie! Well, by high school, she insisted that we call her Ruth. But yes, I knew her. So smart. One of the few who went away to college. It was less common in our day, dears.”

“Do you know what college she went to?” Sam interjected.

“If I’m remembering correctly, she went to the University of Kentucky. It was unusual. Most of the kids went to Cincinnati or junior college. Ruthie was always a bit different.”

“Did she come back for her fiftieth reunion last year?” asked Cindy.

“Oh gosh, I don’t think so. This is the first I’ve heard of her in years,” Mrs. Savage paused to think then continued, “I tell you, the scoop back in the day was that she had married one of her professors, then moved off to California. But that’s just me being an old gossip though. May not be any truth to it at all.”

Sam extended her hand and thanked Mrs. Savage for the information.

“Oh, you’re welcome, deary. Why did you say you are looking for Ruth?”

“It’s for my mom. They lost touch when my mom’s family moved away and my mom wants to know what happened to her.”

Mrs. Savage peered intently at Sam, then smiled.

“Oh my goodness. You look just like her! Jeanie Taylor. Why, I’ll be.”

“You knew my mom?”

“Why everyone knew everyone is those days. The school was so small. Jeanie and Ruthie were a year ahead of me, but yes, I knew them. Those two…” as if in the midst of an old memory, Mrs. Savage’s voice trailed off.

She looked back at Sam and continued her thought, “Those two were inseparable. Where you saw one, you saw the other. How is your mother?”

“She’s good, Ma’am. She lives in Minnesota near my sister, her other daughter, and her family. She’s retired but stays busy doting on my nieces and nephew.”

“Oh well, that’s good to hear. Please tell her Anita Summerfield said hello. That was my maiden name.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I will be sure to. Thank you for your help.”

Cindy walked Sam back to the receptionist’s desk where young Tess was on her cell phone, apparently regaling some friend with her fantastic tail of meeting a famous novelist right here at the South Hamilton school district office. As she walked by, Sam picked up a pink “while you were out” sheet and a pen off Tess’s desk and signed a quick autograph. Cindy walked her out to the Xterra.

“So, where do you go from here?”

“I guess Lexington and the University of Kentucky. I’ll check their Alumni website before I go, but I’m sure it won’t give me much information about where she is today. Might be best just to drive down there.”

“It’s only a two hour drive from here. Well, good luck. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“Cindy, that you so much for taking time out of your day to help. I know you’re probably pretty busy. Oh, and thank Evelyn again for me.”

With that, Sam fired up the Xterra and pulled up her Mapquest app on her iPhone. Sure enough, Cindy was right. Hamilton, Ohio to Lexington, Kentucky was 110 miles, estimated to be a two hour drive. Great, thought Sam. This would give her two hours to decide if she should call Holly and let her know she was coming to town.