Orphan X

58 Parting Gift

It had been just two days since her mother’s body was found in Griffith Park in a wooded creek behind the old-fashioned carousel, and though Samantha White had expected a variation of that middle-of-the-night phone call for years, a part of her was still in shock. And a part of her had finally accepted defeat. Of her own path in life. It was as if her mother had cleared the way for Sam to step up and take the miserable spot she’d left behind.

With a stack of student-loan late notices in hand, Sam legged across campus to the financial-aid office. Her adviser had left her three messages, and the fact that she was willing to come in on this of all days to meet Sam meant that something was truly amiss.

She passed a crew of frat boys in Bruins-wear, still abuzz from last weekend’s football game. The premed students scurried out of Boyer Hall with their color-coded notebooks and stacks of textbooks. Who was she kidding anyway? She’d never belonged here. She’d always been an impostor — a loser from a loser past. And finally it was time to give in and accept her loser future.

She had a friend who worked as a banker at the Hustler Casino in Gardena. It was sleazy, sure, but the girl made decent cash, enough to cover rent on her place and lease a Civic. Maybe Sam could score a job there, start paying down the UCLA loans from the semesters she’d managed to get in. Eventually she could make her way to Vegas for bigger money. Like her mom. Ouch, she thought. There’s the rub.

After an upbringing that saw Sam sleeping in station wagons outside Indian casinos and all-night diners, she’d craved the straight and narrow. Her mom had always been in and out, more trouble than help, but she’d made gestures when she could. A gift card here. Some gas money there. Until it had gone the other way.

Once the coroner released the body, Sam was going to use what was left in her emaciated checking account to pay for a burial. A funeral-home bill wasn’t the parting gift she’d hoped for, but Danika was still her mom and she deserved a resting place.

Sam paused outside the financial-aid office, late notices fluttering in the breeze. So this was how it ended, not with a bang but a whimper on a cold-ass December morning.

She entered, stepping into a rush of warmth and the smell of pine. No one was working reception, of course, not today, but Geraldine’s door was open, and she called Sam back.

Sam entered the office, and Geraldine glanced up with those sympathetic eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“How do you know about that?”

Geraldine gestured to the chair before her desk. “Why don’t you sit down?”

“Look, I get it,” Sam said. “I have to withdraw. Just give me some time to line out a real job, and I’ll start—”

“Sam,” Geraldine said. “Sit down.”

Sam flopped into the chair.

“It seems your loans have been repaid.”

“It’s been a long couple days, Geraldine. This isn’t funny.”

“I was contacted by an estate lawyer for your mother. It appears that she’d been paying into some sort of education fund for you.”

“A fund? What fund? From where?”

“Out of the Balearic Islands of all places.”

Sam felt a rush of heat behind her face, and she was worried she’d start crying and that Geraldine would think it was because of the money.

She swallowed. Bit her lower lip. “She did?”

“There’s enough left over to cover your final two years of tuition,” Geraldine said. “You’ll still have to work to pay for housing.”

Unable to find her voice, Sam nodded. She had to get out of there or she was going to start bawling like some reality-show moron who’d had a surprise family reunion sprung on her. She stood up quickly, and across the desk Geraldine matched her.

Geraldine offered her cool, slim hand above her blotter.

“Merry Christmas,” she said.