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Chapter 4 - She Was Just A Surrogate.

The camp agenda for the weekends was generally a little more relaxed than what they tried to cram in during the week. On Saturdays the camp was scheduled to go on various field trips to educational yet fun sites all over the front range. Sundays were the only real free days, allowing the kids to just relax or to take side trips into town to shop or engage in recreational offerings.

This first Saturday of the camp, the plan was to take a hike through the famous Seven Falls Canyon in the hills above the Broadmoor Resort. They’d be escorted by a local geologist who would walk them through the intricate geological history of Colorado’s front range as well as the specific history of Cheyenne Mountain itself. At the end of the hike, they’d all get a chance to experience the adventure of zip-lining hundreds of feet above the gorge, before spending the rest of the afternoon splashing in the Broadmoor’s pools. Needless to say, the camp’s denizens were more than looking forward to the outing.

The girls were no exception. The series of seven magnificent waterfalls filling the 1,400 foot-tall box canyon were spectacular. They also learned a lot about the geological stratification of the rocks that made up the canyon, going back to the days when the land they were standing on had been at the bottom of a shallow inland ocean. Their guide was extremely knowledgeable and showed them several secrets that the average hiker on the trail wouldn’t have seen, including the fossilized imprint of a dinosaur’s footprint and a 2,000-year old petroglyph. The two curious girls were so fascinated by everything they were learning that they were almost disappointed when the hike ended at the top of the gorge.

That feeling immediately dissipated when the prospect of soaring through the air on a zip-line became a reality. The delicious tendrils of fear and anticipation both felt contemplating something neither had done before, were only matched by the exhiliation of the flight itself. The only bad part was that the experience only lasted a mere ninety seconds or so. But everyone agreed it was well worth the long hike up the hill. And then it was on to the beautiful outdoor infinity pool, which was not only huge and set against the backdrop of Cheyenne Mountain itself, but came with two fabulous water slides that kept the camp kids entertained for a good three hours.

The day was a perfect combination of educational, adventurous and fun. It was also exhausting. So by the end, the girls were well done with all the fun and content to just lounge on recliners at the edge of the pool catching some sun.

Qianna was busy slathering on more sunscreen in an attempt to keep her pale skin from burning, when the pair was approached by one of the pool’s lifeguards. “Hey, Ladies. Welcome to the Broadmoor. Enjoying the sun?”

Qianna looked up at the tall, athletic-looking boy, a little bit surprised to be approached by such a handsome young man. “Um . . . yeah. Except that I think I’m starting to burn.”

“The sun here in Colorado will do that to you. Folks burn a lot faster here since we’re at a higher altitude,” the trim youth in the tight red swim trunks advised them. “I take it you ladies aren’t from around here?”

Quinne spoke up for the both of them since Qianna seemed a little tongue-tied by all the attention directed at her by the young hunk. “Not hardly. I’m from Pittsburgh and she’s from California. But we already knew about the altitude thing. Thanks.”

“Huh?” Their questioner looked perplexed. “How can identical twins be from different states?”

“Who said we were identical, let alone twins?” Quinne asked cheekily, directing a challenging look up at the boy.

“Like, duh! Look at you two. Except for the hair . . .” The boy stood there pointing at the pair of girls like his conclusion was obvious. “You even have the same birthmark.”

Qianna and Quinne both looked down at themselves at the same time, their identical movements reinforcing their similarities at that moment. Quinne sat up, twisting around so that she was sitting sideways on her lounger and facing Qianna, who was still reclining on the chair to Quinne’s left. Seated that way, they could clearly see that they did indeed share the same small, heart-shaped mole high up on their right thighs. They hadn’t noticed this peculiar similarity before, but with nothing on other than their swimwear, it was plain as day. The lifeguard boy had a point.

To cover up their own moment of confusion and excitement, the bolder Quinne turned back to the boy smirking down at them. “You could have continued ogling our thighs from the other side of the pool. Was there some reason you came over here?”

“Well, yeah, um . . . I get off in about a half hour and I was going to offer to buy you two a soda, if . . .”

“What’s the square root of sixteen?” Quinne interrupted the boy before he could even finish his offer.

“Huh?”

“What’s the square root of sixteen? It’s a simple question. If you can answer that, we’ll have a soda with you. Otherwise, you’re not up to our standards and should probably just keep on walking,” Quinne challenged, looking at the boy with an assessing glare.

“That’s . . . weird,” the boy responded, backing away from the pair as if whatever strange disorder this overly-bold girl had might be catching.

Quinne didn’t seem at all flustered by the reaction she got. Instead, she just laughed at the confused look on the boy’s face. That caused their potential suitor to turn all the way around and stride away from them even more rapidly. Qianna reached out and slapped with the back of her hand against her friend’s arm, snorting with laughter at the joke.

“What was that all about?” Qianna asked when the lifeguard was out of earshot.

“My Pops always says I should never date any guy who isn’t my equal - either intellectually or otherwise. So, awhile back, I started asking any guy who claimed to be interested in me simple math questions. If they can’t answer something as simple as that, they aren’t worth my time to even get to know them better,” Quinne explained succinctly.

“Have you actually been on a date?” Qianna asked, seemingly in awe of her friend.

“Sorta. If you can call coffee at the Diner my Grandma manages - with my Pops and three of my uncles sitting one table over - a date.” They both chuckled at the image. “They totally scared the guy off. Pity. He was a freshman in high school, the running back on the JV Football team, and a total hottie. But Pops was right - he was dumb as dirt. Nice to look at though.”

“At least you got that much. My dad told me I can’t date till I’m twenty-one,” Qianna complained, causing them both to start giggling again. “I wonder if all single dads are this overprotective or if it’s just the gay ones?”

“I don’t know but I suspect my Pops would give your dad a run for his money in the overprotective category,” Quinne replied. “Which makes no sense considering the stories he’s told me - and worse, the stories I’ve overheard when they didn’t know I was listening - about what HE did when he was younger. Hell, he’s STILL a bit of a player, even though he’s almost fifty. But I guess that just proves he knows what he’s talking about and I probably should listen, huh?”

“You’re so lucky. My dad’s practically a saint. I bet he never did anything wrong in his life,” Qianna griped. “I wish he’d loosen up a bit and take a few chances once in a while. At least your dad sounds like he’d be understanding if you did something a little bit crazy. My dad would just lecture me endlessly about how HE would never have done whatever it was. He’s such a goody-two-shoes it makes me sick sometimes. And the endless PSAs are a total drag.”

By that point the girls had completely forgotten about the lifeguard boy and just spent the rest of their time at the pool sharing stories about their respective fathers until it was time to head back to campus and their dorm for another night.

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Sunday was the camp’s day off. Everyone was just lounging around, going down to breakfast in their pajamas, and generally being lazy. There was some desultory talk about getting together a group to go to the local mall later in the afternoon and both girls agreed that would be a good plan. Meanwhile, Qianna was sacked out in a comfortable chair in the lounge, munching on a bagel, and sketching her campmates. Quinne was sitting nearby, playing some online computer game that involved lots of muttering under her breath and occasional cursing. The game was interrupted a minute later, though, when Quinne’s phone started blaring out the melody to ‘It's Raining Men’.

She immediately dropped her tablet and picked up the phone with a happy grin on her face. “Hey, Pops! Perfect timing - I just got taken out by the Beef Boss in Fortnite.” Quinne jumped up, gathering her stuff and tipping her head first in Qianna’s direction then towards to the elevators in a gesture inviting the other girl to join her.

She also hit the speaker button so that Qianna could hear the reply from Quinne’s father. “Hey, Sparks. That sounds ominous. I thought you were supposed to be solving the problem of cold fusion or something like that, not spending your time playing fucking computer games.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think we’ll be getting to cold fusion until later in the summer,” Quinne responded with a chuckle. “So, are you missing me already?”

“Your Auntie Em sure is. I saw him at the gym yesterday and he was moaning about not having anyone to paint his damn toenails. It was fucking embarrassing. I may have to start interviewing new friends.” The girls could hear the mixture of exasperation and grudging humor in the voice coming through the speaker.

“You can’t get rid of Em now, Pops. You owe him for all those years of babysitting me every weekend so you could go out and ‘get your needs met’,” Quinne reminded him.

“I suppose. You better hurry up and get back here, though, or he’ll have ME painting his fucking toes.” Qianna had to put her hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter at that point, but luckily the sound of the elevator doors opening up on their floor covered any sounds she might have made. “So, what amazing discoveries have you made at this science camp so far?”

“I’ve only been here a week, Pops, so no publishable discoveries yet,” Quinne tried to temper her father’s expectations. “We did kick ass in the robotics competition last week though. My coding was epic and my roommate, QiQi, designed this totally lit catapult arm thing. We beat the next best team by eons.”

“Of course you did - you’re my kid after all,” Brian bragged, his pride coming out clearly in his tone.

“Next week is geology and archeology - which could be really dope since we’re gonna get to help out in the college archeology lab on a project about preserving some actual Precambrian fossils they discovered in the mountains west of Denver. I’m totally stoked,” Quinne boasted.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself, Spark. Sounds like my money is being well spent. Just don’t have so much fun you forget to come home. This house is way too quiet without you around. Even Gus agreed when he came out here last night.”

“You two are probably just pissed that I’m not there to do all your laundry when Ms. Ortiz isn’t around,” Quinne teased as she shut the door to their room behind them and flopped down on her bed.

“No problem. I’m sure I can find someone to fill in as ‘house boy’ for the summer while you’re gone.”

“Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone, Pops.”

“Me? Never.” Qianna could hear the suppressed laughter in the man’s tone and thought his voice was rather pleasing. “You know me; I’m a fucking choir boy. I’m just going to stay home and take up needlepoint till you get back.” They all laughed at that. “So, what else is on the science camp agenda? Anything I need to be prepared for or that’ll require me to refill my Xanax prescription? You’re not skydiving over the Mojave Desert or touring the core of a nuclear reactor or anything, right?”

“No. But we did zipline over a thousand foot deep canyon yesterday. Does that count?”

“I’m glad I didn’t find out until after you survived.”

Quinne chuckled and winked at her friend, remembering their conversation about overprotective fathers. “You can relax, Pops. The most dangerous thing on today’s agenda is a trip to the mall for some junk food and shopping.”

“Now I AM scared. You know I don’t approve of being ‘malled’. Kinneys only shop at REAL stores.”

“Sorry, but I don’t get to pick out which stores we visit. And I’m sure nobody else here has your Prada fetish.”

“Hey, don’t make fun of my shoes. A man can never have too many pairs of Prada. It’s in the gay men’s handbook.” Brian insisted vociferously. “If you’re not good, I’m going to turn your room into a second shoe closet and you’ll have to move into the garage when you get back.”

“That’s all we need, more shoes in the house,” Quinne groaned theatrically. Then, with another wink to her friend, she turned to the topic they both really wanted to hear about. “Before you go, Pops, there is one thing I need your input on. See, we’re going to be doing this Genetics project coming up in a couple of weeks - I was reading ahead in the schedule, you know - and it would really help if I knew something more about my mother.”

There was instant silence on the other end of the phone line.

“You still there, Pops?”

“Yeah . . . What did you need to know?” All humor had disappeared from the man’s voice.

“Whatever you can tell me. Her name, what she looked like, her medical history . . . Anything that might have a bearing on my genetic makeup.”

“Sparks . . . She was just a surrogate. She wasn’t meant to have any ongoing ties to you or our family. I’m not sure what the point of this is.”

“I know that, Pops. I’m not looking for a mother figure or anything like that. You and Gus and the rest of our family have always been more than enough for me. I promise,” Quinne tried to reassure her father. “But I am curious. I want to know stuff about what makes me ME, you know?”

Brian hesitated several seconds before answering in a much more subdued voice. “Her name was Lizette Richards, but I know she got married, so that probably won’t help. No idea what her married name is.”

“Well, that’s a start,” Quinne seemed cheered by even that small scrap of info. “Do you have any contact info on her? I know it was a long time ago, but maybe I could track her down.”

“No. I have no idea where she is these days. I haven’t talked to her since the day she gave you to me.”

Qianna scribbled something on the corner of her sketch pad and showed it to Quinne, who nodded.

“Was she from a surrogacy agency? If so, maybe I could find her through them.”

“No. She was just a friend of Ju . . . a friend of a friend,” Brian explained, sounding even more flustered.

“Damn. Well . . .” Qianna circled her own face with an index finger, gesturing to Quinne to ask about the surrogate’s appearance. “What did she look like, then? I know everybody says I look like you but is that cuz she resembled you too?”

“You expect ME to remember what some chick looked like?” Brian complained, sounding a bit more like himself. “Now, if she’d been a guy with a hot ass, I might have remembered, but . . .”

“Pops, be serious for a minute. Please. This is important,” Quinne admonished.

“Fine,” he sighed deeply. “She was shorter than me by about a head. Slim build. Blond hair . . .”

Qianna gasped loudly enough that Brian obviously heard. “Why blond?” Quinne asked to cover up her friend’s interruption.

“We were kinda hoping for a baby with blond hair but, lucky you, you got my coloring.”

“And your eyes too.”

“At least that part went according to plan - the surrogate had hazel eyes as well,” Brian disclosed, a strange sort of regretfulness tingeing his voice.

Neither girl knew what to ask next, so there was a moment of silence all round. Quinne was confused by how evasive her father was being. Usually Brian was brutally direct about everything. He hadn’t batted an eye when she’d first asked about her missing mother back when she’d been about five. Brian had immediately launched into a full explanation about surrogacy, interspersed with a modified ‘Birds ‘n Bees’ tutorial, all without even a modicum of embarrassment. But now, when Quinne was asking more personal questions about her biological mother, her dad seemed to clam up. It didn’t make sense.

Qianna finally interrupted the moment of silent contemplation, thinking of one last question, and quickly scribbling it onto her sketch pad.

Quinne read it, nodded and asked, “Did you think to ask her for medical records or anything like that? In case I ever need to know about that stuff in the future?”

“Of course we did, but . . . I don’t have it,” Brian admitted, again sounding so curt and unlike himself that Quinne was stymied.

“Okay, well . . . I guess I’ll just wing the genetics project then. Thanks anyway, Pops. But if you do think of anything more that would be helpful, could you text it to me?”

“Uh, yeah,” Brian didn’t sound like he was interested in following up on that request. “Hey, Sparks, I’ve got to go. I’m taking Gus to go pick out a new computer - that’s what he says he wants for a graduation present.”

“Sounds like fun. Tell Gus I love him and I’m sorry I won’t be there for his graduation next weekend.”

“Will Do. Be good and have fun, Sparks.”

“Always. Love you, Pops.”

“Ditto, Kiddo. Later.”

The second she disconnected the call, Quinne was up, leaping off her bed and landing on Qianna’s. “THAT was the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had with my Pops.”

“Why? Just because he didn’t know anything helpful?” Qianna asked, genuinely lost as to why her friend seemed so upset by what she’d seen as a run-of-the-mill phone call.

“If you knew my dad, you wouldn’t be asking that,” Quinne insisted. “First of all, he’s never that quiet and reserved about shit. He usually can’t say more than a sentence or two without getting sarcastic or cursing or making some off-color remark. His whole tone was just off, you know? It was totally weird.” Qianna just shrugged, taking her roommate’s word for it. “And secondly, what’s with him saying ‘we’ all the time? ‘We’ who? There’s never been a ‘we’ . . .”

“Never?”

“Never! My dad’s famous for being a bit of a lone wolf. I told you that he refuses to even date. So who would he have been consulting with over the surrogate he used?” Quinne insisted adamantly. “He said ‘WE were hoping for a baby with blond hair’ and ‘of course WE got the medical records for the surrogate’ but that ‘HE didn’t have them’ anymore. Who is this other person?”

“There’s got to be some sort of explanation. Maybe he’s just referring to a friend or one of your ‘uncles’?” Qianna suggested.

“Maybe. But it just seems . . . It seems like he’s hiding something. And he’s never hidden anything from me before,” Quinne explained, sounding a little hurt by her father’s apparent secretiveness.

Qianna leaned sideways so she could rest her head on the taller girl’s shoulder in a comforting manner. “I’m sure he’s got a good reason for not telling you the whole story, Quinne. If he’s really as overprotective as you’ve told me, maybe that’s the answer. Maybe he’s just trying to protect you from something he thinks will hurt you?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t like it,” Quinne replied, sounding annoyed and resolute at the same time. “And I WILL get to the bottom of whatever is going on here.”

“No, WE will get to the bottom of it,” Qianna piped up, joining her will to that of her friend. “Let’s try asking my dad next and see if he can add anything.”

“Excellent idea,” Quinne agreed and reached over to the desk to grab Qianna’s phone out of the charger. “Why don’t you Skype him, so you can see his face while you talk? If he’s as evasive as my Pops was, we might at least get some clue about what’s going on if we can at least see him.”

“Okay . . .”

Qianna tapped at her phone a couple times until the call went through. Quinne scooted backward so she wouldn’t be within camera range. The phone only rang twice before the call was accepted. Only, it wasn’t Qianna’s father whose image appeared on the screen.

“Hey, Shrimp. What’s up?” asked the bored-sounding bearded face.

“Alex? Why are you answering my dad’s phone?”

“My FIANCE is in the shower,” he explained.

“So? I repeat, why are you answering his phone?” Qianna demanded, her belligerence clearly coming through.

“Did you want something? ‘Cause if you’re just going to be a brat, I’m hanging up now.”

Qianna actually growled a little under her breath but knew better than to voice her anger with her father’s cretin of a boyfriend. “Just tell Dad to call me back, okay?”

“Whatever,” Hairy Alex replied and ended the call without even a goodbye.

“Your father is engaged to marry THAT asshole?” Quinne asked as soon as the call disconnected. “Seriously?”

“I know! I told you how horrible he is. I can’t believe Dad fell for his BS.” Qianna protested bitterly. “And that was him being almost friendly. You should see how he treats me when he’s not in a good mood.”

“Sorry, QiQi. I can see why you hate him. I hate him and I haven’t even really met the guy,” Quinne sympathized, leaning in to give a reassuring hug to her buddy. “And I see what you meant by hairy. Sheesh, he looks like he’s wearing one of those huge fake beards you hook over your ears that you buy in a costume shop.” Both girls laughed weakly at the apt analogy. “I bet kissing him is like trying to find a pair of lips in the middle of one of those scrubby things you use to clean dishes.”

But Qianna was too despondent to succumb to the humor in her friend’s comment. “I wish I wasn’t going to be gone all summer. If I was home, I could maybe find some way to stop this stupid engagement. By the time August comes, it’ll probably be too late.”

“We’ll think of something, QiQi. I promise. I won’t let you go back to a lifetime of Hairy Alex.”

“Thanks, Q. You’re the best,” Qianna answered with a sorrowful smile for her supporter. “Sorry we didn’t get any more info on our surrogate mystery, though. I wonder if we’ll ever figure this thing out?”

“Don’t give up already. We haven’t even started on our real investigation” Quinne assured.

And the glint of determination in the young woman’s eye was proof that she meant what she’d promised.

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