Casting About

by Terri DuLong

  “I’d say Santa thought you were a very good girl,” Adam had told her. “But remember the rule—now Monica and I get to have our coffee and then you can open the rest of the gifts.”

  All of it had been more fun than I could have imagined. It made me recall so many Christmases when I was single and working in Boston. Either I’d take off with a friend skiing or sometimes, exhausted from working so hard, I just slept the day away. Today was something I’d always remember—especially when Clarissa opened the box that held the sweater I’d made for her. Not only did that gift earn me a huge hug, she declared she loved it so much she had to wear it right away and promptly put it on over her nightgown.

  Following the gift opening and breakfast, we had enjoyed a wonderful Christmas dinner at Opal’s house with Aunt Dora, Saren, and Gracie. More gifts were exchanged and the true meaning of the day was when Grace sat at the piano and played Christmas carols, with the rest of us gathered around singing. Family and friends sharing love.

  I glanced down at Clarissa on the carpet, still wearing the sweater I’d knitted her. I could be wrong, but I was willing to bet anything this was also one of her best Christmases.

  The doorbell chiming interrupted my thoughts and I glanced at Adam, wondering who could be visiting on Christmas night.

  “Oh, Carrie Sue,” I heard him say at the front door.

  After such a perfect day, my only thought was shit!

  “Hey, y’all,” she proclaimed in her singsong voice, breezing into the room. “Merry Christmas.”

  I looked up to see her stumble but catch herself before walking forward as she deposited brightly colored shopping bags in front of Clarissa.

  “Y’all didn’t think I’d forget my daughter on Christmas, did ya?”

  Why not? I wondered. You failed to acknowledge her birthday, and here it is 8:00 at night, with the holiday almost over.

  Adam was clearly flustered with the intrusion. “Oh…well…that’s nice of you, Carrie Sue. Isn’t it, Clarissa?”

  With a bewildered look on her face, she glanced down at the bags and nodded.

  Plunking on the sofa beside me, Carrie Sue said in a raised voice, “Well, go on. Open them.”

  It was then that I detected the strong odor of alcohol floating toward me. My God, she’s loaded, I thought. Comes here on Christmas night after probably drinking all day.

  Clarissa reached into a bag and pulled out a gaudy black velvet dress. Frilly red ruffles circled the hem, and from where I sat, the dipping neckline appeared to be inappropriate for a nine-year-old. Clearly, the dress wasn’t Clarissa’s style.

  “Well, can’t ya tell your mama thank you?” Carrie Sue urged. “Go ahead, open the other bags.”

  “Thank you,” Clarissa mumbled, reaching for another bag. She pulled out an iPod. “What is it?” she asked.

  “Oh, sugar…you need to get with it. All the kids have those. It’s to listen to music.”

  “Oh,” was all Clarissa said.

  As she reached for another bag, Carrie Sue looked up at Adam. “Hey, handsome, where’s your manners? Aren’t ya gonna offer me a bit of Christmas cheer?”

  Poor Adam looked ready to explode. “I’d say you’ve probably had more than your quota of cheer today.”

  Carrie Sue tossed her head as she attempted to pull down the skirt that was somewhere around her mid-thigh. “Oh, Adam. Always was Mr. Prim and Proper. And I think I’ll be the judge of my intake. Christ, it’s Christmas, lighten up.”

  “We have coffee, if you’d like some,” he told her. “That’s it.”

  “Well, never you mind. I’m headed downtown to meet somebody when I leave here—somebody not as stodgy as you.”

  “That’s enough, Carrie Sue.” Adam looked down at Clarissa. “Open the rest of the gifts, honey.”

  The next bag produced a DVD featuring a vampire movie.

  “I don’t like vampires,” Clarissa stated, no apology in her tone.

  “Oh, Clarissa Jo. For goodness sake, you really do need to grow up.”

  Grow up? The kid was barely nine! I had all I could do to keep my mouth shut.

  The final bag held some sort of video game for the computer. By the looks of the cover, the violence it contained was better suited for a teen boy.

  “Thank you,” Clarissa mumbled again.

  Carrie Sue stood up, wobbling a bit due to her four-inch heels and an excess of the cheer Adam had mentioned.

  Without so much as a hug or kiss for Clarissa, she headed for the door. “Okay, y’all. I’m off to celebrate Christmas. Oh, and Adam, I meant to tell you—I have something going on tomorrow. Would it be all right if I don’t take Clarissa as planned?”

  I saw him shrug. “That’s fine with me, but you can’t take her the following weekend either. We have plans.”

  “Okay,” she said, not an ounce of regret in her voice. “Then I’ll call you. Looks like it’ll be mid-January when I take her.”

  And with that, she was gone.

  After we got Clarissa to bed, Adam and I were sitting on the sofa still trying to digest the scene we’d witnessed with Carrie Sue.

  “I have to say, I know you’d always told me about her, but seeing her in action—wow, she’s a piece of work. No wonder you couldn’t stand living with her.”

  Adam sighed. “My only regret in that divorce was the fact I had to leave Clarissa with her.”

  “She’s so unqualified to be a mother. I mean, really, did you see those hideous gifts she got? She has no clue what Clarissa likes or even what’s appropriate for her.”

  “She never has. Between her drinking and her self-centeredness, she’s clearly a woman who never should have had a child.”

  And I always thought that woman was me. Somebody just not cut out to be a mother. Based on what I’d witnessed with Carrie Sue, now I wasn’t so sure. Over time I’d come to learn Clarissa’s likes and dislikes. I’d come to feel how natural it was being in her company, how much I welcomed her laughter and her affection.

  Maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe being a mother was about so much more than I ever realized. Simple things. Like just letting go and being yourself. I remembered hearing somewhere that people generally do the best they can in a given set of circumstances.

  Looking back to April, when Clarissa had come to live with us, I was beginning to see how much I had known all along. Things I wasn’t even aware of. And as a result, it now made me see that perhaps I was also doing better.

  40

  “My God,” Grace said, wiping down the counter in the coffee shop. “That woman is a sandwich short of a picnic.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “Yeah, I have to admit, she’s something. I just couldn’t believe those gifts she got Clarissa.”

  “And then showing up three sheets to the wind. Nice. Very nice example to set for her daughter. What did poor Clarissa say about all of it?”

  “I’m beginning to think that child has more intelligence than Carrie Sue could ever hope to have. When her mother left, she looked at Adam and asked if she had to wear that dress. He told her definitely not. Then she suggested donating all of it to Goodwill or something. I think I can understand why she really didn’t miss Carrie Sue when she came to live with us.”

  “Exactly. A kid knows where the love is. Since she arrived, both you and Adam have shown an interest in her. From the sounds of it, something Carrie Sue never did.”

  “You know, after watching her in action, I’ve been thinking maybe my own mothering skills aren’t as absent as I always thought.”

  Grace sat across the table from me. Leaning chin in hands, she said, “Hmm, you think?”

  “Well, I don’t know. All I know is that Carrie Sue has certainly proved she lacks common sense. Truthfully, she all but ignores Clarissa, and it’s obvious she knows nothing about her. When she first arrived, neither did I, but now…well, gosh, I know her favorite color is purple, she adores dogs, her favorite TV show is Hannah Montana, she really does like chicken and—macaroni and
cheese, well, she’d rather have that than anything.”

  I heard Grace chuckling and looked up at her. “What?”

  “Listen to yourself. And think back to April. All those doubts that you had when Clarissa first came. I tried to tell you it would just take time, but oh no, you wouldn’t listen. You were bound and determined to label yourself Mommie Dearest—and I do mean that in a derogatory way. It’s never easy raising a child, but little by little you’re catching on to what’s important. Like teaching Clarissa to knit. Anybody can tell how much she enjoys that, but I don’t think it’s just the knitting—I think she likes the fact that it’s something the two of you can do together and share.”

  The same thought had crossed my mind.

  “You’ve been too hard on yourself, Monica. Personally, I think you’ve done a great job with Clarissa.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I do,” she said, getting up to come and pull me into a hug. “She’s well adjusted, happy…what more can parents ask for?”

  “That’s exactly what Adam told me the other night. In addition to those things, he mentioned how well she’s doing in school and said that’s always a signal if a child feels stable.”

  “See? What have I been trying to tell you?”

  Despite all the kudos from both Adam and Grace, one thing still nagged at me. I wouldn’t admit it to them, but I still didn’t feel that overpowering, fierce love that I knew most parents had for their children. We never even voiced those words to each other. Maybe a woman had to carry a child for nine months in order for that particular emotion to surface? But then I recalled my mother being adopted and the deep love she shared with my grandmother, which once again left me with no answers.

  The door to the coffee shop opened and both Grace and I looked at the man walking in. Not a local. Tall, slim but broad-shouldered, dark curly hair with a trace of gray at the temples, and olive-complexioned skin, dressed in casual slacks and navy pullover sweater. I wondered if maybe he was a substitute teacher at the school.

  “Hi,” Grace said to him, walking behind the counter. “What can I get ya?”

  “I know it’s a coffee shop,” he said, speaking fluent English with an unmistakable French accent, “but I noticed your sign says you also have tea?”

  “I do,” Grace said with a smile and pointed to the board on the wall. “Actually, I have quite a good selection.”

  Walking closer to read the listings, he removed a pair of reading glasses clipped to the neck of his sweater. After a few moments he said, “Yes, I can see you have a wonderful selection. I think I’ll have the chamomile, please.”

  He leaned over to inspect the baked goods Grace had in the display case. “Oh, and one of those blueberry muffins to go with it.”

  Grace began preparing the tea. “Just visiting the island?” she asked him.

  “Well, yes, for right now,” he told her, his French accent becoming more pronounced. “I’m in the process of purchasing the bookshop downtown.”

  I sat up straighter in my chair. Ah, so this was the new owner.

  “Oh, right. I’d heard somebody had purchased it.” Grace placed the cover on the Styrofoam cup and extended her hand. “Well, welcome to the island. I’m Grace Stone.”

  I watched as the man took her hand in his.

  “Lucas Trudeau,” he told her. “Very nice to meet you.”

  “And this,” she said, pointing toward me, “is my best friend, Monica Brooks. Monica owns Spinning Forward, the yarn shop downtown.”

  He now shook hands with me and said, “Very nice to meet you, as well.”

  “Thanks. I hope you’ll like it here.”

  Hmm, nice-looking guy. Well put together. Probably early forties, with a cosmopolitan look about him. Definitely looks like somebody who could own a bookshop, minus any nerdy qualities. A quick glance at his bare left hand told me there was also a good chance he was single.

  “Yes, I believe I will. It appears to be a friendly town, and Dick assures me that it is.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Grace said, laughing. “Cedar Key is definitely friendly. Everybody knows everybody.” She passed the tea and muffin across the counter to him and rang up the sale.

  “Do you mind if I sit here to have this?” he asked.

  “No, not at all,” I heard her say with a bit of enthusiasm in her voice. “Come join Monica and me. It’s slow this time of day, so I was taking a break.”

  “So,” I said as they both sat down, “how soon will you be opening the bookshop?”

  “Well, I’ve also purchased the empty shop next door, so I’m going to be doing an expansion and remodeling. My goal is to have it open by the fall.”

  “Oh, what a great idea. I’ve always told Dick that bookshop was too small. He needed more space. Not like a chain, of course. There’s something special about an independent bookstore. Did you see the movie You’ve Got Mail?”

  Lucas threw his head back laughing, and it was difficult not to notice his attractive smile. “I did,” he said, “and thoroughly enjoyed it.”

  “Weren’t you just rooting for Meg Ryan?” Grace asked. “She had the greatest indie bookshop, and that stinker, Tom Hanks, wanted to put her out of business.”

  Lucas nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid with the poor economy the past few years a lot of shops like that one have failed. So I feel very fortunate to have done so well with my other one.”

  I recalled what Polly had told us and said, “Where’s that one?”

  “Brunswick, Georgia—about four hours north of here, just over the border.”

  I saw the look of surprise that swept across Grace’s face. “Brunswick?” she said. “I was born and raised there. My aunt still lives there.”

  Now it was Lucas’s turn to look surprised. “You said your last name was Stone? You’re not by any chance related to Maude Stone, are you?”

  Grace laughed. “I am. That’s my aunt.”

  Lucas shook his head. “What a small world. Maude is one of my best customers. When I opened that shop five years ago, she’s the one who was instrumental in forming the great book club that we have there.”

  “That would be Aunt Maude,” Grace said. “She’s always involved in one thing or another. With that accent and a name like Trudeau, you’re French?”

  “Yes, originally from the south of France and then about fifteen years in Paris. I had a bookshop there as well and sold it when I moved to Brunswick.”

  There was definitely some chemistry going on here, and I almost felt like I was intruding.

  “But you won’t be selling the shop in Brunswick?” Grace asked.

  Lucas shook his head. “Not at the moment. I have an excellent staff I can depend on. This is what will allow me to spend a lot of time here getting this shop up and running. I had come here last year and fell in love with the island, so when I saw the bookshop was for sale, I couldn’t help but make an offer.”

  “And you also purchased a house here?” Grace questioned.

  “No, I’ll be renting a small cottage over on Second Street. Very convenient to walk to the bookshop.”

  “I imagine your wife will like living here as well,” Grace said.

  I put my hand to my face, smothering a smile. Sly, Gracie, sly.

  “I don’t have a wife…. It’s just me and Duncan. He’s my Scottish terrier.”

  “Oh, they’re adorable,” I said. “My mother’s best friend, she owns the B and B here, she has a Scottie, Winston.”

  “I got Duncan just before I relocated from Paris, and he’s been a wonderful companion.”

  “I’m anxious to see what you do with the bookshop,” Grace said. “I bet you have some great ideas.”

  “I think I do, yes.” He glanced at the watch on his wrist and took the last sip of tea, then stood up. “It was so nice meeting both of you. Thank you for your hospitality and I look forward to seeing you again.”

  “Oh, same here,” Grace said, watching him walk out the door.

  The smile now
formed on my face. “Interesting.”

  “Interesting? What do you mean?”

  “Good-looking guy, don’t ya think?”

  Grace nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Also single.”

  “Hmm, that’s right, I think he did say that.”

  “Going to be here quite a lot getting the bookshop together.”

  “I suppose so.”

  I couldn’t hold back the laughter any longer. “Oh, Gracie, ’fess up. You’re attracted to him.”

  “God, was I that obvious?”

  “No more so than he was.”

  “Get outta here!” she argued.

  “I’m just telling you what I saw. And yeah, I’d say he was interested. Who knows, maybe you won’t be that spinster in a nursing home after all.”

  41

  Flipping the calendar to February on the kitchen wall, I was amazed that another month had zipped past. All things considered, it had been a pretty good one. We seemed to have settled into a routine, especially with Clarissa visiting Carrie Sue. Although I’d noticed that when she returned from her time with her mother, Clarissa seemed to be subdued, not talking much for a day or so and acting similar to when she’d first come to live with us.

  I’d just finished running the vacuum through the great room when the phone rang and I answered to hear Opal.

  “Hi, sweetie. Are you busy?”

  “Just cleaning house. Why? What’s up?”

  “Well, I was wondering if I could stop by. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

  “Sure, I could use a break. Give me an hour, and why don’t you come for lunch.”

  “Sounds good. See you then.”

  Hanging up, I thought oh, damn. I had a feeling maybe Opal was coming to tell me she’d decided to return to Georgia and wouldn’t be able to keep Clarissa the weekend Adam and I were going to Augusta. If that was the case, I hoped that maybe Aunt Dora could take her.

  I decided to dust and vacuum Clarissa’s room before Opal arrived. Opening the door, I gasped. “Holy shit!” I yelled.