The Foster Girls

by Lin Stepp

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Vivian glared at him.

  “Nothing.” Scott grinned at her and spread his hands. “Quit being so touchy, Vivian. I was just making conversation.”

  They hiked a little over a mile through the camp to Slippery Rock Falls. Vivian had been meaning to hike to the falls ever since she moved into the farmhouse, but she just hadn’t made it up yet. When they climbed over the last little ridge to find the waterfall, Vivian let out an exclamation of delight. The stream dropped down over a high series of rock ledges in a froth of white cascades.

  “Oh, Scott, look how the water tumbles down the rocks like it’s falling down a set of stairs. It’s beautiful!” Vivian’s enthusiasm rushed into her voice as she took in the scene before her.

  Scott smiled. “You can see why the campers like to hike to the falls. They also like to hike on up to the Cascades, where we’re going next. It’s only a half mile farther. Two major streams converge at Deep Hollow Cascades as they tumble down from two directions off Cove Mountain. There’s a spectacular series of cascades at that spot with a good swimming hole below. We’ll hike there next for our lunch stop.”

  “Does one of the streams from the cascades branch off down here to create this falls area?” Vivian looked around curiously.

  “That’s right,” he answered. “The Laurel Prong stream converges with Deep Hollow Creek at the cascades; then it veers right to roll down the mountain and drop over these ledges here on its way. Below the falls, the Prong winds its way on down through Buckeye Camp and then, eventually, out into the valley to pour into Cove Creek. The Deep Hollow Creek angles left after the cascades, and then it runs on down the mountain between the farmhouse and Leo and Mary’s place. It’s the larger stream that sings to you beside the house.”

  “I know, I love listening to it in the quiet of the night with the windows open. Wonder what formed these rock stair ledges that the water cascades over?” Vivian studied the neat layers of rock that the falls plunged across. “They’re so unusual. They look almost manmade, you know, but I know they can’t be.”

  “Walker Bailey, our resident forest ranger who lives nearby on Falls Road, says it’s all due to geological changes that happened here in these mountains thousands of years ago. They shifted rock in certain ways, and then, later, stream changes sent water over them, creating falls and cascades all through these mountains.”

  Vivian smiled at him. “Those water stair-steps make you want to get out and walk on them. But I bet they would be slippery and dangerous.”

  “You’ve got that one right.” Scott nodded in agreement. “That’s why we have to be careful when we bring our campers up this way. We have to keep them out of the water here. There’s a good reason for the name Slippery Rock Falls, and I’m not willing to take a chance with my campers’ safety by letting them play on the rocks in this area. They can come look, but there’s no wading allowed.”

  Vivian looked out over the splashing falls with pleasure. “Well, it’s nice enough just to look at. And I love this great bench you’ve made here out of an old log. It makes a good spot for a rest.”

  She sat down for a minute to try it out, while Scott puttered around the area looking for fallen limbs and moving them out of the pathways. A short time later, they hiked on up to the Deep Hollow Cascades where Deep Hollow and Laurel Prong collided in a series of rushing falls and spills over a tumble of giant boulders. Scott and Vivian ate lunch there by the side of the cascades on an old throw that Scott had brought along for them in his backpack.

  “The sounds of the water here make you want to take a nap,” Vivian said lazily after she and Scott had polished off the last of the brownies.

  “It’s probably because you ate more food than you usually do at lunch,” Scott teased.

  “But everything always tastes so good up here in the mountains.” She grinned. “And Edith Harper’s brownies are really hard to say no to.”

  Scott stood up then. “Well, lounge around here and enjoy the cascades for a little while. I’m going to explore along a couple of these little side trails and make sure no fallen trees or problems need to be reported. We’re inside the National Park now. Slippery Rock Falls, behind us, is almost at the park boundary. Up here in this section of the park, I’m officially a trail volunteer for an area Smokies hiking club. I hike up here once a month to check the trails and look for any trouble to report.”

  “That’s nice. You go look for trouble,” said Vivian sleepily. “I’m going to lie down here for a minute to rest and just enjoy listening to the cascades.”

  Chapter 17

  Scott came back from his hike to find Vivian asleep, curled up on the blanket with her arm wrapped under her head like a pillow. He sat down beside her quietly to just watch her for a minute.

  She was so beautiful, with such a regal elegance and presence about her, even when she was asleep. Her long hair was tied up in a ponytail, but little tendrils had escaped to curl around her ears and over the nape of her neck. Her long legs were pulled up under her so that he could see the soft skin of her upper legs peeping out from beneath her shorts. Scott sucked in his breath softly.

  He sat there and just studied her, enjoying being able to indulge his passions about her freely without her being able to see his face and guess his feelings. He’d worked hard these last weeks to keep their relationship on a friendship level. And he’d watched Vivian relax in his company, and begin to talk to him more easily, now that she knew he wasn’t likely to jump her at every turn. Not that he still didn’t want to do that. Scott grinned at the thought. And not that the electricity didn’t still flow like hot voltage between them whenever they got too close to each other.

  It was amazing, that. He’d never known another woman who had made him feel the way Vivian had. Lusty but protective and tender, too. Like right now. He wanted to just touch her face, run his hands over her, explore the wonder of touching her, getting close to her. He hadn’t even given a thought to another woman since the night he met Vivian. That knowledge really made him nervous. Scott liked women, and he always noticed women. But lately …

  Vivian moved slightly, and sighed in her sleep. Then she rolled over a little more onto her back, exposing the tops of her breasts to him where the button had come undone. Scott might have avoided temptation even then, if she hadn’t licked her lips a little in her sleep, almost in invitation.

  With a groan of pent up sexual frustration, he dropped down over her, gathering her up in his arms and burying his face in her neck. However, she didn’t curl sleepily into his embrace, as he had hoped. She screamed - not with surprise, but with sheer terror.

  “Joe, no!” she screamed, moaning pitifully and beginning to try to coil her body up into a ball away from him. “Please no. Oh, Joe, please no. Don’t hurt me.”

  He realized she was dreaming then, and he shook her awake harshly.

  “Vivian,” he said sharply. “Vivian, wake up. It’s a dream. It’s only a dream. Vivian, wake up. It’s Scott, not Joe.”

  She woke up, with another scream just starting in her throat. Then seeing his face, Vivian threw her arms around him and started sobbing.

  He held her and crooned soft words to her, just like he would to one of the children at the camp who had a bad scare. Anguished tears streamed down her face, and she shook and shuddered in his arms as she fought to escape her memories. Scott found that he was shaking, too.

  At last, the crying and hiccupping sobs subsided, and Vivian began to calm. Scott rolled her around then to curl her up on his lap, propping his back against a tree.

  “It’s all right,” he told her over and over. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

  Her eyes grew wide then as she came fully awake and realized her situation.

  “Oh, Scott, I’m sorry,” she murmured, trying to wipe off her tears and pull herself off his lap at the same time.

  “No, stay here.” Scott held her gently in place. “Relax a minute. Everything’s all right. I’m a
master comforter of bad dreams, Vivian. Don’t be embarrassed; just relax here a minute.”

  Surprisingly, she minded him, leaning against him, letting her shaking gradually subside and her breathing calm down. Her head was tucked up against his shoulder and her legs were still curled up, almost in a fetal position.

  “Tell me.” He dropped his voice in a comforting tone. “Tell me what happened.”

  She shook her head. “It was just a bad dream.”

  “No,” Scott said firmly. “This was a bad memory. Tell me, Vivian. If you’ll get it out, the dream will be less likely to occur again. Surely, as an academic woman you should know that. This is some bottled up memory you’ve kept inside yourself. Let’s get it out today so you can leave it behind.”

  She shook her head against his chest. “I don’t want to tell,” she said in a small voice. “It’s too embarrassing.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Just tell, Vivian.” He smoothed her hair back gently from her face. “We’re friends. You can trust me. I know how to keep a confidence.”

  She looked up at him, weighing the idea.

  “All right,” she said in a quiet voice, moving herself off his lap to lean against the tree beside him now. “You know my mother died when I was nine.”

  “Yes, I remember,” he answered, tucking an arm around her shoulder in encouragement.

  Vivian sighed heavily. “Well, I didn’t go straight to the Meros then. They put me in foster homes. First I went to the Clayburn’s farm - an older couple that kept a lot of kids. They were good to me. I was in a lot of pain after losing my mother, and the farm was a healing place that summer. I wanted to stay there, but they moved me. When you’re a foster child, you don’t get any choices. Other people decide about you. Other people shape your life. They don’t even ask you what you want.”

  She stopped to cry a little then.

  “They sent me to the Kemper’s next. They thought it would be better for me. The Kemper’s were rich, and their daughter, Amanda, wanted to have a little sister. She thought I was fun at first, and then she tired of me, like someone would of a new toy. I was nicer than Amanda, who wasn’t always kind. Her friends soon started liking me better than her. Her parents liked me, too. Amanda wasn’t always nice to her parents, either. But pretty soon, she convinced them to send me away. So they moved me again.”

  She sniffed and cried some more, leaning into Scott with a painful sigh that nearly broke his heart.

  “I went to the Patterson’s then. It wasn’t a nice home like the others. It was shabby. A large group of foster children lived there; many of them were boys and they were older. They looked at the girls and said things that I didn’t understand, but it scared the girls and it scared me. The Patterson’s son Joe was a bad person, too. He would come and peep at the girls in the bathroom or in their rooms at night. I would see him sometimes, and he would smile at me like we had some secret. Then one night, while I was asleep, he was suddenly there. He lay on top of me, groping me. And he didn’t have any clothes on. I was only ten, Scott, and frightened. I didn’t know anything, but I knew to fight. I’m sure Joe would have raped me if he hadn’t heard his parents come in the door, calling for him. He whispered that he would be back later.”

  Vivian started to sob then.

  “Finish it, Vivian. What happened,” he said quietly, his own heart beating, the anger churning up inside him that boys like Joe even existed to take advantage of innocent little girls like Vivian.

  She took a ragged breath. “I dressed and put my things in a backpack. I slipped into the Patterson’s room next door and stole some money. I knew where Mrs. Patterson kept her emergency cash. I’d heard her talking about it. Then I climbed out the window and ran. I ran all the way to the old Greyhound station downtown. There, I heard this old black lady say she was taking the bus to Mendocino. I took a chance, told her what happened, and begged her to help me get to a friend’s home in Mendocino. She believed me. Thank God. I don’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t.

  “I remember she hugged me and said: ‘Girls have to deal with painful things in this world, honey, before it’s all done. But you be strong, girl. The Lord will help you through.’” She helped me buy my ticket and told everyone she was a family friend and that she was traveling with me out to my uncle’s place in Mendocino. I was so scared, Scott. I couldn’t even sleep on the bus. I was terrified they would come after me and take me back.”

  Vivian stopped to cry again before she could continue. “That dear lady cared for me. When we got to Mendocino, her daughter picked her up, and she took me straight over to Henri Bernard’s house. I still remembered the way to his place. Henri had the wine store right next to my mother’s old bookstore. He was a sweet middle-aged gay man who had always been kind to my mother and I. I fell into his arms sobbing when he opened his door early that morning, and he took me in.”

  Vivian sighed. “Henri hid me for awhile, and he sent back the money I’d taken from the Patterson’s to protect me from any possibility of a theft charge. He sent it anonymously as a money order with a note that said that I’d gone to stay with relatives and that they shouldn’t try to find me or the authorities would be notified about Joe’s actions. So I was a fugitive for a while. Henri said he didn’t trust the social services department to do the right thing by me after all I’d been through. But he knew they’d never let him have me.”

  “How did you get to the Mero’s?” Scott asked.

  “Dorothy Mero was Henri’s sister. He told them about me, about my mother, about how smart I was. He was my advocate. He found me a good foster home and then got social services to approve it. I got to grow up with his sister and her husband. And I stayed close to Henri, too, until he died. I’ll never forget him, Scott, what he did for me. What his family did for me. They saved me.”

  “It was a terrible experience, Vivian. I’m so sorry it happened to you.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead.

  “I know it could have been worse,” she whispered.

  “But it wasn’t,” he reminded her. “And like the black lady said, you’ve been strong and the Lord has helped you through.”

  Vivian cried again, and Scott wrapped her up tightly in his arms once more. He kissed her without thinking, and his heart was pained and full at the same time.

  Vivian looked up into his face. “You know I’ve had trouble being close with anyone ever since that time, except with you. But with you, it’s been different, Scott.”

  Her heart was in her eyes. And a side of Scott knew he could make love to her right then if he wanted to. She was vulnerable. She had opened her heart to him, and he had been kind and not judged her, which was what she had always been afraid of. He had helped her to open up and get an old pain lanced out.

  But he kissed her on the nose instead and then kissed her again softly on the mouth. He made no effort to go further. Probably because it was in that moment he realized he loved her. It scared him to know it and to realize it. He had been waiting, he guessed, to see that trust in her eyes, to realize that she needed him. To know that she wasn’t totally self-sufficient without him. That she had weaknesses and soft areas that he could fill.

  He thought of telling her about his feelings then, but somehow it didn’t seem the right time. He was afraid she would just think he was only saying the words because he felt sorry for her. No, he’d find another time. For now, it would keep.

  As a tenderness slipped its fingers around Scott’s heart that he’d never experienced before, he wrapped Vivian tighter into his arms, and let the lightning of their contact forge through him. He knew at that moment, too, without a shadow of a doubt, that he’d found the woman he wanted to spend his life with. He just had to find a way to make her know it, too. He would do that, he thought fiercely. If there was one thing Scott Jamison was good at, it was getting what he wanted. And he didn’t mind to work hard to get it.

  He smoothed Vivian’s hair back from her face and kissed her softly again. “Everythi
ng’s going to be alright, Vivian. Old secrets are out now, and you’ll start to heal.”

  “I do feel better somehow,” she told him, sniffling. “I didn’t think I would. I thought it would be better to keep this all to myself. Only Henri and the Meros know.”

  “Some things aren’t the kind of story you want to tell everyone, Vivian, but there should always be people you feel safe to share yourself with. To trust.”

  “I guess,” she admitted. “I haven’t very been good at trusting.”

  He smiled at her. “Well, you’ve started now. Who knows what layers we’ll peel off before you’re done. You might get to be an open book sort of person just like me.”

  “Oh, I’d say you have your share of secrets, too,” she returned, more saucily now, and beginning to sound more like her old self again.

  “Probably I do,” he told her, grinning. “And one is that I just love to throw gorgeous girls into mountain streams.”

  He picked her up then, pretending he was going to toss her out into the water. She shrieked and struggled, of course. It helped to break the intensity of the moment, and to get Vivian’s dander back up. He knew how to deal with an argumentative and angry Vivian better that this gentler, tender Vivian he’d uncovered. Besides, he sensed that getting her provoked with him in their old teasing way was just the thing she needed at the moment. He also understood better for the first time why she had been so reticent to share herself with him.

  Vivian was right when she had told Scott that he didn’t understand anything about real pain and betrayal. He didn’t have sorrows in his past like Vivian had known, and he found himself deeply thankful for that. When he got home that night, he called his family. It was good just to hear the love of their voices. To know that he had them in his life.

  Chapter 18

  Vivian knew, over the weeks to come, that something had changed in her relationship with Scott. A subtle difference existed in how Scott related to her, how he treated her, how he looked at her. He treated her more gently, and in some ways she liked that, and in other ways she didn’t. She knew the changes occurred after she confessed what happened with Joe when she was ten. Scott knew she had been passed around in foster homes for a year after her mother had died now. Did he feel sorry for her? Was that it? Did he not want to get involved with someone who had so many past problems? Who had been a foster child? Or had their friendship just moved into a different, more comfortable zone? Vivian couldn’t tell.