Casting About

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Casting About Page 12

by Terri DuLong


  I caught the look of distress that crossed Clarissa’s face. She loved playing with that toy and did so as much as she could.

  “Well?” Adam said, looking at his daughter.

  Clarissa slowly raised her bowed head. “Yeah, all right,” she replied reluctantly.

  “Go into your room and bring it out here to Monica. She’ll return it to you in one week.”

  When Clarissa left the kitchen, Adam came and stood in front of me. Taking my face in his hands, he said, “I missed you last night. I missed not having you next to me. I’m glad you’re back.”

  “I’m glad I’m back too. And, Adam…I love how you love me.”

  20

  The morning of the birthday party I was filling paper cups with nuts and candy when Dora showed up with the cake she’d created.

  “Oh, wow, it’s gorgeous,” I said, holding the back door open.

  She placed the box on the counter and stood back to admire her work.

  “It is kinda nice, isn’t it?”

  Walking closer to inspect the pale pink cake with ribbons of rose-colored frosting and small white flowers, I nodded. “Clarissa will love it. Look at the little dog. It looks just like Billie, and the little girl holding the leash looks just like Clarissa. You’re amazing, Dora.”

  She smiled and waved her hand in the air. “What time does the gala event begin?”

  “At four. First a barbecue, then the cake and ice cream, and then she’ll open her gifts.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot. I have her gift in the car. I’ll run out and get it.”

  Dora returned with Opal behind her.

  “Hey, sweetie,” she said, coming over to plant a kiss on my cheek. “Oh, my, will ya look at this cake. Dora, I swear you should open a bakery on the island. Isn’t that just the cutest thing? Where’s the little birthday girl? I have her gift here.”

  “Clarissa should be right back. She took Billie for a walk. Would you both like some sweet tea?”

  “I have to go open the yarn shop,” Dora said. “But you be sure to wish Clarissa a happy birthday for me.”

  “I will, and thanks so much for the cake, Dora. I really appreciate it.”

  I poured two glasses of tea and joined Opal at the counter.

  “So how’s everything going?” she asked. “Any further word from that wretched Carrie Sue?”

  “No. The court date is set for early November.”

  “Well, no judge in his right mind would award that woman custody a second time. That’s all I have to say. Clearly, Adam is the best parent to raise my granddaughter.”

  I had to agree with her on that.

  “Oh, before I forget,” she said. “I know your birthday and anniversary are the end of October. I’m still going to be here on the island, so I want you to know that I’m offering up my babysitting services. The two of you need to get out and celebrate. Now, I know it’s none of my business, but I think you should go away somewhere for a few nights. Be alone for a while.”

  That had a definite appeal to it. Just Adam and me.

  “That’s so nice of you, Opal. I’ll speak to Adam and we’ll let you know.”

  “Let me know what?” he said, coming into the kitchen.

  “Your mother just offered to take Clarissa in late October so we can go away for a few nights to celebrate our anniversary and my birthday.”

  “That’s a great idea. Thanks, Mom. And yes, we’ll take you up on it.”

  “Really?” I said, welcoming the thought of a romantic interlude.

  “Yeah, how about Amelia Island? You’ve never been there and I think you’ll like it. It’s only about a three-hour drive from here.”

  “Sounds perfect. It’s a deal and thanks, Opal.”

  “It’ll be my pleasure. I sure do love spendin’ time with that granddaughter of mine.”

  It was easy to see she enjoyed Clarissa, and Clarissa always looked forward to spending time at Opal’s house. I was convinced there was a part of Opal that had never grown up, and Clarissa had a way of pulling out that child within her.

  “Dora did a super job with the cake, didn’t she?” Adam said, leaning over to inspect it.

  “Yeah, she has all kinds of creative talents.”

  “Well, I have to be moseying along,” Opal said, jumping off the stool. “Have myself a spa appointment in Gainesville at noontime. Now, if I could just find myself a beau who’d appreciate my assets, I’d be all set.”

  I laughed. “Opal, you’re too much. You’ll be back later for the party?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

  With Grace’s help I managed to throw a successful party for my stepdaughter, and with her ingenuity we managed to keep them entertained with games and fun. Clarissa seemed happy to be the center of attention and I was impressed with the sincerity she demonstrated in appreciation of her gifts. She had a knack for making each girl feel the gift she’d chosen was extremely special.

  Adam walked out to the deck and passed me a glass of white wine.

  “I think you earned this,” he said, pulling up a lounge beside me. “It was a great party, Monica, and I know Clarissa loved it.”

  “Yeah, I think she did,” I said, smiling. “Is she still in her bubble bath?”

  He laughed and nodded. “I just hollered in to her. Told her she’d better be careful or she’ll come out looking like a prune.”

  “She really loved all those French bath products my mother sent her.” I took a sip of wine and sighed.

  “Something wrong?”

  “I guess I’m just surprised that Carrie Sue didn’t acknowledge her birthday at all. No card, no gift, not even a phone call.”

  “I think that’s why this party meant so much to Clarissa. It’s the first time in four years she’s had one. But you’re right—there she is moaning about wanting more custody rights, and she doesn’t even remember her daughter’s birthday.”

  “I wonder what Clarissa thinks, though. I mean, for your mother to forget your birthday—that borders on abandonment.”

  “That’s why I feel she likes it so much here with us. She just wants to be part of a family, and we’ve given that to her. She hasn’t said anything to me about Carrie Sue, and I feel it’s better not to mention the subject.”

  “I know—even with the incident over the perfume and her punishment, I do get the feeling she’d rather be here with us.”

  “Parents are supposed to guide and protect their children. Disciplining them is part of the deal. Deep down inside, kids know that. When they’re left to flounder on their own, like Clarissa was with Carrie Sue, it makes them feel lost and uncertain. Children learn by example. She might not like the punishment, but I’d bet anything she understands it. She knows I love her, and that’s all that matters.”

  I hadn’t discussed it with Adam, but I wasn’t so sure that I loved Clarissa. Those maternal instincts still weren’t surging inside me. Maybe they never would. Maybe this was the best I could hope for—a neutral relationship where we tolerated each other. My thoughts were interrupted by her voice in the doorway.

  “Monica?”

  “Yeah?” I looked over as she walked onto the deck, clad in her new Dora the Explorer pajamas and matching slippers, with Billie trailing behind her.

  “Thank you for my party.”

  “Oh,” I said, taken by surprise with her gratitude. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “I did. All the girls said it was the best party they’d ever been to.”

  I smiled. “It was a fun time. I enjoyed it too.”

  “I’m ready for bed now, Dad,” she told Adam.

  “Okay, birthday girl,” he said, getting up and following her into the house.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if Clarissa thought it odd that I’d never offered to tuck her into bed. She always said good night to me, but we didn’t exchange any hugs or kisses at bedtime like she did with Adam. It was like we had an invisible wall between us—a barrier that prevented us from getting too
close.

  21

  Sipping my coffee, I glanced at Adam and Clarissa across the breakfast table. Had it only been six months since we received the phone call from social services? It was beginning to feel like Clarissa had always been a part of our life.

  “So what’s your plan for today?” I asked them.

  Clarissa’s face broke out into a smile. “Miss Tilly said she’ll take me to paint plein air today. That means painting outdoors, you know.”

  I saw Adam grin. “Does it? My goodness, you’re beginning to sound like a professional artist.”

  “Oh, Miss Tilly says I’m an artist-in-training,” Clarissa said, with pride in her voice.

  “What is it that you’ll be painting outdoors?” I inquired.

  She hesitated for a second and then said, “I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”

  Must be something for Adam, I thought.

  “And what are you doing today?” I asked him.

  “Well, you’ll be at the yarn shop for a few hours, so I think I’ll take a drive into Chiefland and get those rose bushes you wanted to plant.”

  “Great. We can do that later this afternoon when I get home.”

  “You didn’t forget about my sleepover tonight, did you?” Clarissa asked.

  I shot a glance across the table to Adam. Sleepover? Oh God, it was Saturday, and I now recalled she’d planned to have a few girlfriends spend the night.

  “No, no…I didn’t forget,” I told her. “What time will they be here?”

  “Dad said we could do a barbecue, so they’re coming over around six.”

  “Just some hamburgers and hot dogs,” Adam said. “Nothing special.”

  “Right. Well, I’ll be home from the shop around two, so I can do up a batch of macaroni and cheese to go with it.”

  “Oh, goody. I love macaroni and cheese.” The smile on Clarissa’s face confirmed this.

  “Okay,” I said, getting up from the table. “So that’s all set, and I’m headed to the shower.”

  I was just finishing up the salad I’d brought for lunch when the phone rang.

  “Spinning Forward,” I said.

  I had finally gotten myself to the bank a few weeks before, so I was happy to hear the bank manager’s voice.

  “Monica, I’m pleased to let you know that your loan has been approved.”

  “Oh! Wow! That’s terrific! That’ll really help with some new ideas that I have. Thank you so much.”

  “It’s our pleasure doing business with you. You can stop by on Monday to sign the final papers. Let me be the first to congratulate you on being the official new owner of Spinning Forward. I hope your business will be very successful.”

  “Thanks. See you on Monday.”

  Hanging up the phone, I turned around to see Grace coming in the door.

  “Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”

  “What’s up is that good-for-nothing-scoundrel has a huge sign in front of his shop announcing the opening of his posh coffee café for next week.”

  “He’s finished with the remodeling?”

  Grace went to the table in back of me to pour herself a cup of coffee.

  “Apparently so,” she said, flopping onto the sofa.

  “He is a rat, but I tend to doubt that his business will interfere with yours, Gracie.”

  “Don’t be too sure of that. I heard he has a ritzy atmosphere in there. Leather sofas and chairs and he’s offering free Wi-Fi. He also hired somebody who’s going to make quiches and Cuban sandwiches at lunchtime.”

  Hmm, this guy was determined to pull in the customers.

  “Well, I have difficulty seeing any of the locals going to such a place. That’s not their style. They love your place because they just sit around and enjoy the good coffee and sweets with the conversation.”

  “That might be, but I have a sick feeling that I’ll be losing all of my tourist customers on the weekend.”

  “There must be something we can do.”

  “Short of burning the place down, I don’t know what that might be.”

  I laughed, but I hoped that Grace was only making an attempt at being humorous.

  “Well…we can…I know! We can boycott the place. You know, gather together a bunch of the locals and walk past there with picket signs.”

  Now Grace was laughing. “Oh, right. And we’ll all end up in the Levy County jail.”

  “Not necessarily. Nonviolent protests aren’t against the law.”

  Grace plunked her coffee cup onto the table and jumped up. “Wait! I have an idea. I can have some T-shirts made up. You know, stuff like ‘Don’t Support Developers’ and ‘Locals Rock at Grace’s Place.’ I’ll pass them out free to my customers to wear around town on the weekends.” She began pacing back and forth across the shop. “Oh, and I know…. I can turn my place into a sixties-style coffeehouse with authors visiting and poetry readings, even some music.”

  Maybe she was on to something. “Might not be a bad idea. If you could contact some Southern writers, they just might be willing to come here to do readings and sell their books. You play the guitar. Why not drag it out and have some folk music to offer your customers?”

  She ran toward me, hand lifted in the air for a high five. “I can do this. Thanks for your suggestions. This just might work and push Mr. High and Mighty right off this island.”

  I laughed as my hand made contact with Grace’s. It wouldn’t be easy, but I had a feeling that Grace had the tenacity to pull this off.

  “Oh, hey! The bank just called. I got the loan.”

  Excitement covered Grace’s face. “That’s great, Monica. I’m so happy for you. You’ve now officially joined the ranks of us businesswomen. You go, girl!”

  I hope so, I thought. I hope that even with a shaky economy I’ll be able to stay afloat.

  Adam and I sat on the deck watching the girls toast marshmallows on the grill. Laughter and giggles filled the backyard and it occurred to me that children really did know how to enjoy the simple things in life. It made me wonder how we seemed to lose that ability on our way to adulthood.

  “They’re having fun, aren’t they?” Adam said.

  “Yeah, that was a good idea you had. I’m thinking when they’re finished maybe I’ll bake some cookies with them. They’ll probably want a snack later tonight.”

  I felt Adam reach for my hand.

  “You’re getting into this mothering, aren’t you?”

  The look of love on his face was difficult to miss, and I smiled. “Oh, I don’t know about that. But…I guess you could say I’m trying.”

  When the girls finished roasting marshmallows, they joined us on the deck. I realized I enjoyed hearing their conversations about school projects, television shows, and childish tidbits of gossip. I thought back to my own childhood friends and was sad that over the years I’d lost touch with all of them. I’d always envied my mother her relationship with Ali—a friendship that spanned almost forty years. I felt even more grateful to have Grace in my life.

  “Did you say we’re going to bake cookies?” Clarissa asked.

  “I did. Would you girls like to help me?”

  “Can we lick the bowl after?” Kathryn questioned.

  “You’re not supposed to ask that,” Zoe informed her.

  I laughed and headed inside to the kitchen. “Come on, and yes, I think some bowl licking can be arranged.”

  Following Aunt Dora’s recipe, we managed to get the cookies into the oven. The girls assisted in the cleanup and I noticed Zoe had been unusually quiet since she’d arrived.

  “How’s your mom doing?” I asked her.

  When I saw the sad look across her face, I was sorry I’d inquired.

  After a moment, Clarissa said, “She isn’t very good. They might have to have hops spits come to the house.”

  For a second I didn’t understand what she was saying. “Oh…you mean hospice?” I said and saw Zoe nod.

  That wasn’t a good sign at all.

 
; “And Zoe might have to leave Cedar Key to go live with her dad up north,” Clarissa explained.

  Geez, this seemed to be a huge burden for such a little girl. I felt my heart tug at the sorrow this child would be facing, and I knew Clarissa would miss her best friend a lot.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Zoe, I want you to know that if you do have to leave…you’ll always be welcome to come and visit us. If your dad is agreeable, we’d love to have you stay with us during school vacations.”

  Zoe’s face shot up to stare at me. “Really?” she asked hopefully. “Because when I spoke to my dad on the phone, he did say that. He said I could always come back here to visit.”

  “Of course you can,” I reassured her. “Now why don’t you girls get into your pajamas, and by then the cookies will be cool enough to eat.”

  Adam walked in from the deck. “I heard that conversation. That was nice of you to extend an invitation to Zoe.”

  “It’s going to be really tough on both her and Clarissa. It’s not right at all that children have to go through adult sorrow.”

  “I know,” he said, pulling me into an embrace.

  I got up during the night and was headed to the kitchen for a glass of water when I saw the light still on beneath Clarissa’s door. The clock on the mantel said 2:05, and the girls were still awake.

  Tiptoeing toward the bedroom, I heard soft murmuring and put my ear to the door.

  “You’re very lucky,” I heard Zoe say. “Even though your real mama didn’t want you, your daddy’s new wife is very nice to you.”

  This didn’t sound like a nine-year-old conversation to me.

  “I know I am,” Clarissa said. “I’m not sure Monica likes me, but she’s never mean to me. Maybe your daddy’s wife will be nice to you too.”

  “I don’t think so,” Zoe replied. “She doesn’t like any children. I could tell when I visited them last time.”

  “It’ll be okay, Zoe. We’ll always be friends, and when we get grown-up, you can come back here and live forever.”

  “I wish I was going to live with somebody like Monica. I like her.”

 

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