Casting About

by Terri DuLong

  Laughing, I pushed my chair away from the computer. “Yeah, we’ve done record business for a Tuesday. There were quite a few mail orders too. How about some coffee?”

  “Sounds good,” Dora said, settling on the sofa.

  I measured coffee into the filter and poured water into the machine. Within seconds the aroma of freshly brewing coffee filled the shop.

  “Any word from Adam yet?” Dora asked.

  “Yeah, he called last night when he arrived at the hotel.” I glanced at my watch and saw it was 2:30. “The hearing should be going on now.”

  “I sure hope it works out the way you want it to. Doesn’t seem right to make a child leave her home once a month to travel up to Georgia. And how’s she supposed to get there?”

  “I’ve wondered about that myself. Adam will probably be forced to drive her.”

  “Land sakes alive, that’s just plain nonsense. All that driving back and forth.”

  I nodded. “Yup, but that’s just what might happen.”

  “How’s Clarissa feel about all of this?”

  I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “Well, I think she made it pretty clear to the social worker that she’d much prefer to stay here full-time. I’m not sure that’ll count for anything.”

  Before Dora could respond, the wind chimes tinkled and three more women walked in the door.

  “So much for a coffee break,” I heard Dora say under her breath.

  I smiled as I poured a cup for both of us and joined her on the sofa.

  The women looked to be in their sixties, and each one headed toward a different type of yarn filling the wooden cubbyholes.

  I took a sip of coffee and picked up the sweater I was trying to complete for Clarissa. So far I’d managed to keep it a secret from her, but that meant working on it only at the shop and not at home.

  “Oh, look at that,” one woman exclaimed, walking toward me. “That’s just gorgeous. Do you have any of that yarn here?”

  “We do,” I told her, pointing to where it was kept.

  “Oh, look at this,” another woman said, holding up a luscious shade of cornflower blue. “Perfect for the scarves I want to make.”

  “And I found the cashmere I was looking for,” the third one said. “Don’t ya just love this peach color? It’ll make a beautiful vest for me.”

  I smiled. What was it about yarn and the unlimited colors and textures that drew women like a shoe sale? All I knew was that once I picked up those needles again a few years ago, I was as addicted to the stock available as I was to the actual process.

  “And what’s this?” one of them said, spying a photo of two finished Ewedora Stockings. “That’s right, I’d heard the owner did this,” she said, turning around to look at me. “Are you the owner?”

  “Yes,” I said, feeling a sense of pride. “I recently bought the shop from my mother, and I’m specializing in Ewedora Stockings—personalized with a Christmas theme. And this just happens to be Aunt Dora, my partner.”

  “Oh, my goodness—well, I just have to have two of these made. My grandson, Jason, just turned three, and we have a new grandbaby due in February. My first granddaughter. What a wonderful keepsake these stockings will be. Do you think I could have them by next Christmas?”

  “Absolutely,” I told her, getting up to get an order sheet.

  After taking down the required information, she said, “I just live in Ocala, so I try to get here at least once a month. Your mother did spinning of dog and cat fur, but I don’t have any pets. But these knitted stockings—I simply don’t have the time to do something as involved as this. I’m limited to scarves, so it’s wonderful that you’re now offering this service.”

  When the women had finished browsing and had their purchases lined up on the counter, Dora tallied up their sales, and it was then that one of the women caught sight of my T-shirt.

  “What’s that all about?” she questioned. “I noticed a lot of people wearing those around town today.”

  I explained about Grace’s coffee shop and the opening of the posh one down the street.

  “You mean to tell me that this guy only opened his shop to run her out of business?”

  “I’m afraid so,” I said, filling a shopping bag with yarn.

  “Well, that’s terrible. I’ve been going to Grace’s place since I started visiting the island. You can bet I won’t step foot inside his doorway.”

  “We appreciate your support,” I told her.

  “And why are there so many for-sale signs on the houses around the island now?” another woman asked.

  “Pretty much it’s because the taxes have gone sky high. The locals just can’t afford them anymore and they’re being forced out.”

  “I’d read about that in the newspaper,” her friend said. “It’s not right. These people work all their life to own their homes free and clear—and then they’re pushed out because of taxes they can’t afford? It’s not right at all.”

  “No, it’s not,” I said. “And the thing of it is, sure, many live on waterfront property, but it’s not a luxury to them. It’s their livelihood. They make their living fishing and clamming, just like all the generations before them.”

  “Well, I sure hope this developer is the one who ends up leaving the island,” the woman said, reaching for her bag of yarn. “That’s what happened to so many lovely little towns in Florida. Big developers came in, put up skyscrapers and fancy hotels, expensive restaurants and shops, and before you knew it, all the charm of those small towns was gone. That’s why we love coming here to visit. People are still friendly and it still looks and feels like old Florida. So I say good for you for not wanting to change things.”

  “Right,” the woman in the middle said. “We’ll definitely support you, and we’ll tell all our friends who come here to visit to stay away from that new coffee shop in town.”

  “Yeah,” said the third woman. “Maybe he’ll get the hint and realize that there are still some people who care more about the history of a place and the longtime residents than something that doesn’t belong here in the first place.”

  I grinned at the passion the women had displayed. “Well, thank you very much, and I’ll be sure to tell Grace what you said.”

  “Oh, we’re headed over there now for coffee. We’ll be sure she knows,” one of them said as they walked out clutching their treasured yarn.

  Dora looked at me and smiled. “I’m thinking Grace just might win this after all. She sure is determined.”

  “She is,” I said and wondered if determination really did win in the long run.

  That evening over dinner I noticed that Clarissa seemed a bit more animated from the week before. There had been no funeral for Zoe’s mother—probably because of the cost. She had a cremation, but nothing more.

  “Zoe was in school today,” she now told me. “She said she’s leaving during our Thanksgiving break to go up to Baltimore.”

  “Well, that’s good. At least it gives you a few more weeks together.”

  Clarissa nodded. “Yeah, and she said her father will talk to Dad about her coming to stay here the week after Christmas. Then we can see each other again. Her dad said she can fly right into Gainesville.”

  “Oh, that is good. Of course we’ll go and pick her up. I know you’ll miss her, but at least you can still see each other.”

  I wondered what it would be like for Zoe going from a small town with relatively no crime, a small school where everybody knew her, to a large city where it was easy to get lost in the shuffle, and I was grateful that at least her father would allow her to return to the island for visits.

  I had just finished loading the dishwasher when Clarissa walked into the kitchen holding her Raggedy Ann doll. A look of apprehension was on her face.

  “Something wrong?” I asked.

  “I was just wondering…do you think—it would be all right if I gave Annie to Zoe?”

  Part with the doll that had meant so much to her? “Well…yeah, it�
�s your doll. You can do whatever you want with it. But why? I thought you loved Annie.”

  “I do, but I love Zoe too, and I know it’s going to be hard for her living up there. I thought maybe Annie could keep her company—like she did me when I first moved here.”

  I wasn’t used to such unselfishness in a child and was touched that Clarissa thought to do this. “I think that would be an incredibly sweet thing to do. But are you sure you won’t miss the doll?”

  “Yeah, I will…but I have Billie now, and she keeps me company. I think Zoe might need Annie more than I do.”

  I shook my head. It amazed me how much could be learned from children if we just paid attention.

  “I think Zoe will love Annie, and having her might make her feel a little bit closer to you too.”

  “That’s what I was hoping,” she said, walking out of the kitchen.

  Just as I was getting Clarissa to bed Adam called.

  “How’d it go?” I asked.

  “Good news and bad news. Let me talk to Clarissa first before she goes to bed and then I’ll tell you all about it.”

  Clarissa talked to her dad for about ten minutes and then passed the phone back to me.

  “Call ya right back,” I told him.

  I gave her a hug and tucked her into bed, which now seemed like such a natural thing to do. Then I called Adam back.

  “So what’s the deal?” I said.

  I heard a deep sigh come across the phone line.

  “Well, we kinda sorta won. The judge ruled that it’s not in the best interest of the child to be traveling back and forth once a month to Georgia. Of course, that brought forth buckets of crocodile tears from Carrie Sue. However, the judge went on to say that if the mother could get herself to Cedar Key, the permanent residence of Clarissa, then she would grant her visitation twice a month.”

  I gripped the phone tighter. “What? Are you saying that Carrie Sue is moving to Cedar Key?”

  “Well, I’m not saying that for certain—but…yeah, she has the option to do so, and if she does, then she’ll have visitation with Clarissa. But, honey, I seriously doubt that Carrie Sue’s going to be willing to come to the island to live.”

  “And I seriously doubt that you fully understand a woman determined to get her own way. Oh, Adam, what the hell have we gotten ourselves into?”

  “Monica, please don’t worry. It’ll all work out.”

  “How was it left? Did Carrie Sue speak to you after the hearing? Did she say what her plans were?”

  “No. I have no clue what she’s planning. All she said was that she’d be in touch, and she left the courthouse with her attorney.”

  Great. Just great. This was exactly what I sure as hell did not need—the ex-wife coming to live in the same town.

  27

  Adam arrived home on Wednesday afternoon, and he looked beat. I attempted to be cheerful for his sake, but it continued to loom over me that shortly I could be bumping into Carrie Sue everywhere I went on the island. It did make me feel somewhat better to know that at least Clarissa wasn’t going to be transported back and forth across the border like Florida oranges.

  Clarissa and I greeted him at the door with hugs and kisses.

  “I missed my girls,” he said. “It’s good to be home.”

  We’d decided to wait till he got back to explain the current situation to Clarissa.

  “Just made some coffee,” I told him, heading to the kitchen.

  “Sounds great. Let’s sit out on the deck.”

  I put the filled cups on a tray along with a glass of Pepsi for Clarissa.

  “Okay,” he said, after taking a sip from his cup. “We really did win,” he told his daughter and then went on to explain that Carrie Sue did have the right to move to Cedar Key, and if she did, then she had visitation twice a month.

  “So I still have to go with her?” Clarissa questioned.

  I honestly thought she’d be happier with the fact she didn’t have to leave once a month, but it was apparent she’d have preferred no contact with Carrie Sue at all.

  “Well, yes, you do. If she moves here. But, Clarissa, I’m not sure that will happen. Even if it does, you’ll be right here on the island, and it’s only for two weekends a month. Now, that’s not so bad, is it?”

  “Guess not,” was all she said, with her head bent down.

  Adam looked at me with raised eyebrows. “I know this is tough,” he told her. “But maybe you’ll like being with your mother again. You haven’t seen her for seven months.”

  “What am I supposed to do with her?” she asked.

  I had to give this kid credit—she was mature beyond her years.

  “Well, uh…maybe she’ll take you into Gainesville shopping or for lunch. Mother-daughter stuff.”

  “She never did that kind of stuff when I lived with her.”

  I saw Adam suppress a grin. “Right. Well, hey, let’s not worry about it now. It might never happen. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, softly.

  During supper Clarissa chatted away about Zoe and the need for Adam to speak to Zoe’s father.

  “I will,” he assured her. “I promise.”

  “Why don’t you tell your dad what you’re giving Zoe for her going-away present?”

  She looked at me with a grin. “Raggedy Ann,” she told him and went on to explain why.

  “That’s really nice of you, Clarissa, but are you sure you want to part with her?”

  She nodded. “Yup. I want Zoe to have her now.”

  I saw the emotion that passed over Adam’s face, and I was beginning to realize that kids had a way of bringing out our softer side.

  While Adam and Clarissa cleaned up, I called my mother to bring her up to date on our news.

  “That’s wonderful. Oh, I’m so glad that poor child won’t have to be bounced back and forth. I bet Opal will be thrilled too. But I wonder how she’s going to deal with bumping into her ex-daughter-in-law downtown?”

  “Hmm, if it happens, it should be interesting. Gosh, with all the excitement about Clarissa, I almost forgot to tell you…The bank approved my loan, and now I really feel like the official owner of Spinning Forward. This money will enable me to purchase more stock to build the business.”

  “Oh, Monica! That’s great. Congratulations.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  Sydney’s laughter came across the phone line. “Mind? Why would I mind? I wanted to give you the shop. Believe me, I’m thrilled you’re taking it over. It was great while I had it, but my life has moved on now, and a huge part of that includes being with Noah. So I couldn’t be happier for you, and I wish you much success.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” I said, and went on to give her an update about Ewedora’s Stockings. “So I’m hoping this little venture will make up for the lack of orders with spinning dog and cat fur.”

  “It’s a great idea! I have no doubt it will be very successful.”

  “Yeah, orders are already coming in, and I’ve set up the Web site for mail orders just like you did for the spinning. It was a good time to begin this because we’ll have almost a full year before next Christmas. Speaking of which, what are you and Noah doing for Thanksgiving?”

  “Actually, we’ve been invited to an American couple’s home just outside Paris. The fellow works with Noah at the Sorbonne, and they’ve invited a few couples to celebrate an American Thanksgiving. How about you? Going to Dora’s?”

  “Yes, and you know her—she thrives on having a full house. So it’ll be me, Adam, and Clarissa. Dora also invited Saren, Opal, and Grace. Marin is going to South Carolina to be with Andrew’s family. It’ll be fun having a child around this year.”

  My mother laughed. “If you think Thanksgiving will be fun, wait till Christmas. Kids really do make Christmas.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  I crawled into bed beside Adam, grateful to have him back home. With any luck, he wouldn’t be returning to Georgia again for cust
ody hearings.

  “I missed you,” I told him, snuggling into his shoulder.

  “I missed you too.”

  He shifted to look at me.

  “Monica, I don’t want you worrying about this. I just can’t picture Carrie Sue coming here to live. Hell, she never once wanted to come visit here when we were married.”

  “Really?” That was encouraging.

  “I tried many times to get her to come down. She said there wasn’t a thing on this island for her. She is high maintenance—I don’t think she could survive here without her hair salons and spas and high-class shopping.”

  Maybe Adam was right. Maybe I was worrying for nothing.

  “I spoke to my mom this evening.” And I went on to tell him how she and Noah would be spending Thanksgiving.

  “That sounds like fun, but I’m sure it’ll be a nice time at Dora’s house.”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember my first Thanksgiving on the island. My mom did it at the Lighthouse. We had quite a few people there—I know Marin and Andrew came that year with their sons. It was a lot of fun. All the old stories going around the room—everybody recalling something from the past.”

  “I bet Saren won for the best storyteller,” he said, massaging my arm.

  I smiled. “Yeah, he sure can come up with some great stories from years ago. You know, I just realized—we’re building our own stories, aren’t we?”

  I felt him nod. “That’s what families do. All the events, all the times spent together, they all turn into great stories years later. I’m glad Clarissa’s going to get to grow up on this island. I want her to experience that true sense of family with all of us.”

  “I agree. It’s a great place to raise a child, and she does love it here, doesn’t she?”

  “I always thought she would. Looking back over these months, we’ve had our ups and downs, but overall, I think she settled in real well.”

  I only hoped that Carrie Sue wouldn’t show up and upset our apple cart.

  “Hey,” I said, feeling Adam’s hand slide between my thighs. “I thought you were tired from that long drive.”