by Terri DuLong
The room that had been kept perfectly neat for months now looked like a war zone. Clothes tossed here and there. A bath towel bunched up on the chair. Books scattered all over the unmade bed. And sprinkled on the carpet was glitter and tiny red foil hearts—everywhere. The empty tubes from these were on the desk.
Why would Clarissa leave her room like this before going to school? Well, I sure as hell wasn’t about to clean it up.
I slammed the door behind me and walked out to the kitchen trying to calm down. Preparing two plates of crab salad, I kept shaking my head. What on earth had gotten into her? I thought we had the cleaning of her room under control.
Arranging lunch on the table, I looked up as Opal knocked and walked in.
“Oh, that looks yummy,” she said, sitting down. “Can I help with anything?”
“No. Sweet tea?”
“That would be good. Something wrong?” she asked.
I let out a deep sigh before plunking in the chair across from her. “Yeah, plenty. I thought we were over Clarissa not keeping her room clean. Come with me,” I said, leading the way.
Opening the bedroom door, I flung my arm forward. “Nice, huh?”
“Oh, my,” Opal said, stepping over the threshold and looking around the room. “Obviously, the child is upset about something.”
“She’s upset? I passed upset about twenty minutes ago.”
“Well, sure, honey. If she’s been keeping her room clean, and then to have this.” Opal gestured around the room. “Clearly, something’s bothering Clarissa Jo.”
How the hell did Opal know this? Was this something from Motherhood 102? An advanced level I hadn’t gotten to yet?
“Seems to me Clarissa is testing you,” Opal informed me.
“Testing me? But why?”
“Well, that I can’t tell you. But yeah, testing to see your reaction to this. If I didn’t know better…,” she began, and then stopped.
“What? What were you going to say?”
“Well…Adam said Clarissa’s not real happy when she returns from Carrie Sue’s place. Not that I can blame the poor child, mind you. But I’m wondering if this is her way of acting out—trying to get some control over a situation where she has no control.”
“You mean because she really doesn’t want to go to Carrie Sue’s?”
“Exactly.”
“That makes no sense. Just because she’s back to not keeping her room clean, that doesn’t mean it will stop the visits.”
“Right,” Opal explained. “But she’s feeling lost and confused again. She could be looking for a way to feel secure. By not cleaning her room, she knows it will cause you and Adam to be angry with her.”
“And that’s what she wants?”
Opal smiled, put an arm around my shoulder and directed me back to the kitchen.
Sitting down at the table, she said, “What she wants is for you to give her some structure, something Carrie Sue has never done. By not cleaning her room, she’s called attention to herself. This in turn forces you to address the problem. I’m not sayin’ kids love discipline or being punished. However, it gives them the stability they crave. Lettin’ a child run wild and do as they please doesn’t show an ounce of love—what it shows is indifference on the part of the parent. Kids instinctively know this. Being a parent is the hardest job in the world—that’s because it’s so time-consuming. A parent who takes the time to discipline a child makes that child feel wanted and loved.”
I poured sweet tea into our glasses and thought about this for a few minutes.
“So what you’re saying is Adam has to discipline her. But she already knows Adam wants her and loves her.”
Opal laughed. “Oh, Monica, sweetie, for such a smart woman sometimes you don’t get it. It’s you that she’s looking to for the reassurance, not Adam. She knew you would be the one to see her room this morning. As I said before, she’s testing you.”
Which meant that it was up to me how I handled this. For the first time, I was on my own and had to make a decision about disciplining Clarissa.
Picking up my fork for a bite of crab salad, I said, “Thanks, Opal. How’d you get to be so smart?”
She threw her head back, laughing. “Comes with the territory, honey. Being a mama is trial and error, and it’s all hands-on learning. Now—the reason I came here today is, I need your advice with something, and you can help me.”
“Oh, I thought maybe you were coming to tell me you’re leaving the island and can’t take Clarissa next month.”
Opal waved a hand in the air. “No, no. Actually, I’m not sure when I’ll be going back to Naomi’s. I just might have me a man in my life.”
“A man?” I said with surprise. This was the first I was hearing about it. “Where’d you meet him?”
Opal patted her lips with a napkin. “Well, actually, I haven’t. Yet. Not in person, anyway.”
“What?”
“Well, see…um…I was on the Internet and…”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “You met him in a chat room on the Internet?”
“Well, yes. Anything wrong with that?”
“I’m not sure. Do you think he’s really who he says he is? I mean, people can tell you anything in those chat rooms.”
“Yes, well, I thought that too. But we’ve been chatting for a few months now. Even exchanged some photos. And now…well, he’s coming to Cedar Key for a few months.”
“He is? Hmm, then I guess if he’s willing to meet you in person, he must have been truthful about who he is. Where’s he from?”
“He’s from Charleston, and I do think Hank’s been truthful.”
“Hank? Does he have a last name?” I kidded with her.
“Of course he does. It’s Masterson. Hank Masterson. Has a nice sound to it, don’t ya think?”
I smiled. It looked like my mother-in-law was smitten. “It does. Why’s he coming here for a few months?”
“He’s retired—worked in investments or some such thing. His wife died about ten years ago, children are grown and scattered across the country. He’s never been to Cedar Key and thought it might be nice to come down here and spend a few months.”
“Hmm, and get to know you?”
Opal pursed her lips. “Yes, that could be part of it. He’s bringing his dog—has a Lab named Charlie. So he’s rented a cottage at the Far Away.”
“Interesting, but why do you need my advice about this?”
I swear I saw a crimson flush begin to climb up Opal’s cheeks.
“Well, I’ve been out of the dating world for a while, ya know? Hank mentioned taking me to dinner in Gainesville one evening…and I was kinda wondering…what might be appropriate to wear.”
My eyes went to the fuchsia-colored pantsuit she was wearing. The bright bluish red was something we’d all become accustomed to with Opal—showy, loud clothes that forced people to look. So here was Miss Key Lime Pie of 1960 asking my fashion advice? “Hmm, are you thinking of something more…subdued?”
“Subdued,” she said, letting the word roll off her tongue while she thought about it. “Yeah, that might be what I’m looking for.”
“Well, you can never go wrong with black or gray. Maybe an ankle-length gray skirt, charcoal gray turtleneck, and black blazer?”
“That certainly sounds subdued—even dull.”
I shrugged. “Hey, you asked my advice.”
“I did, and maybe you’re right. Something like that would be appropriate for an evening dinner. Okay, got that. On to the next problem….”
When she neglected to continue, I looked up from my plate. “And that would be?”
“Well, this is a delicate subject, but I don’t have anybody else to discuss it with. Lord knows, I couldn’t talk to Adam about it. But I was wondering…is a woman expected to kiss on the first date these days? And if so, does that kiss lead to…well, you know.”
I had all I could do to stifle my laughter. Here was a woman who flaunted her sex appeal at every op
portunity and she was worried about dating protocol?
Unable to resist, I said, “Does it lead to sex? Is that what you mean?”
The crimson on her cheeks deepened as she nodded. “Well, yeah—I hear so much about that Viagra stuff and all, I’m just not sure what to expect.”
She struck me as a nervous teenager about to embark on her first date. Leaning across the table, I patted her hand. “Opal, I truly don’t think much has changed in that department since you were out there dating. Nothing is ever expected of you, so just use your common sense and you’ll be fine, I’m sure.”
She nodded. “Okay, thank you.” She took a gulp of tea. “Do you think I’m being foolish to meet him? I mean, gosh, at my age….”
“Opal, don’t be silly. What are you? Late fifties?”
“Sixty-three.”
“Well, geez, that’s far from ancient. What’s wrong with having a gentleman friend? Look at my mom and Noah. It’s nice to have a companion at this stage of your life. Somebody to go places with, have fun with. It adds longevity to your life.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “You’re probably right. Besides, guess they wouldn’t have developed that Viagra if there wasn’t a need for it.”
I threw my head back, laughing. “Opal, you really are too much. That wasn’t quite the longevity I was talking about.”
42
I stood across the street from the school talking to Barb, the crossing guard, as I waited for Clarissa to come out the door.
“There she is,” I said, crossing to meet her. “See you later.”
“Hi,” Clarissa told me, and then slid her gaze toward her shoes as we headed for home.
She knew I’d seen her bedroom. Well, if I was in charge, we were going to play this game my way. Both of us remained silent until we reached the end of G Street.
“Don’t forget,” she said. “I have to go to Chelsea’s house this afternoon. We’re working on a Valentine project.”
“I didn’t forget—but you’re not going.”
Her head shot up to look at me. “What? Why can’t I go?”
“Did you see what your room looked like this morning?”
“Yeah, I’ll clean it.”
“That’s right, you will, and then you’ll remain in your room for the rest of the afternoon.”
“That’s not fair,” Clarissa whined.
“Fair? I thought your dad and I made it clear to you that it was your job to keep your room neat and clean. I’m the one that does the dusting and vacuuming in there—and I can’t do that with books and towels and glitter all over the place. I’d say that’s not fair.”
She remained silent for the rest of the way home.
Billie came running to greet us as we walked through the front door.
“Take Billie out in the yard,” I told her. “Then call Chelsea and tell her you won’t be coming over. Then you can begin cleaning that mess in your room. I suggest you get the DustBuster to clean up all that glitter.”
I headed to the laundry room to fold clothes. There—I’d done it. I’d disciplined Clarissa for the first time. I wasn’t sure what the aftereffects would be, but I knew I’d done the right thing.
By the time Adam returned home from school, Clarissa still hadn’t emerged from her bedroom.
“Hi,” he said, coming to put his arms around me as I stood at the counter peeling potatoes. “Have a good day?”
“It was okay. And yours?”
“Yeah, but you seem upset.”
I was concerned about Adam’s reaction to the incident and how I’d handled it.
“Not as upset now as I was this morning,” I told him and went on to explain the situation.
Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he shook his head. “Geez, I thought we had that bedroom stuff all straightened out.”
“Yeah, so did I.”
“So I wonder what’s really bothering her?”
That’s exactly what Opal had said—that it could be about Clarissa not wanting to go to Carrie Sue’s. How was it that they both knew that and I didn’t?
“I had a message from Clarissa’s teacher today,” he went on to say. “So I stopped by to see her after school. It seems she’s noticed a difference in Clarissa the past month or so. She’s much quieter in class, not as willing to participate and volunteer answers. She also told me that Clarissa’s grades are beginning to slip. We know she’s certainly capable of doing excellent work, so something’s wrong. Where’s she at?”
“In her room. I punished her and told her she couldn’t go to Chelsea’s house this afternoon as they’d planned and that she had to clean her room.”
Adam nodded and smiled. “Very good decision,” he told me.
I let out a sigh and felt like I’d passed a pretty important test. “I’m glad you agree.”
“Of course I agree. I told you when she came to live with us that we both had to be on the same page. You can’t leave all the disciplining to me—you’re her stepmom.”
“But something is definitely bothering her. Now it’s affecting her schoolwork. What’re we going to do?”
“Well, I have a strong suspicion that all of this has to do with her not wanting to visit Carrie Sue. And I’m not sure what I can do about that, since it’s Carrie Sue’s right.”
“But, geez, doesn’t Clarissa have anything to say about all of it? It isn’t right to force a child to go someplace she has no desire to be. Look at the problems it’s creating.”
“I know,” Adam told me. “I think it’s time to sit down with Clarissa and talk about it. Bring it out in the open and let her voice her opinion.”
I was scooping bread pudding into dessert bowls following dinner and heard Adam say to Clarissa, “So what’s up? You were very quiet while we were eating.”
“Nothing.”
I realized that recently she’d reverted back to her one-word answers.
“Well, Miss Carlson had a talk with me after school today.”
Clarissa’s head shot up. “About what?”
“About you falling behind in your grades. We know you can do much better. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.”
I placed the dessert on the table and sat back down.
Clarissa picked up her spoon and began moving the pudding from side to side.
“Something’s wrong,” Adam told her. “Let’s talk about it.”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Clarissa, if you’re not going to talk to me, I can’t help you. Does any of this have to do with visiting your mother?”
She kept her eyes focused on the pudding in front of her and shook her head. “No.”
“Then you don’t have a problem going to stay with her every other weekend?”
“Nope.”
“Well, then I suggest you get your act together. Snap out of it, Clarissa. Keep your room clean and I’d better see an improvement in those marks—and mighty fast.”
No comment from Clarissa.
“Understand?” Adam said.
Clarissa nodded. “Yeah.”
“Okay, finish your dessert.”
“I don’t want it,” she mumbled.
“Then leave the table and go back to your room. Monica told me you’re being punished.”
Without a word, Clarissa got up, pushed back her chair, and walked out of the kitchen.
Yeah, okay, I know I did the right thing, but gosh, I hated to see Clarissa so miserable. I didn’t care what she told Adam, I was certain all of this had to do with Carrie Sue.
After Adam and I got the kitchen cleaned up, we went into the great room to relax. I picked up my knitting and curled up on the sofa. I had just started a lavender-colored sweater for Clarissa. She was probably so mad at me now she’d never wear it.
Adam sat down beside me. “Pretty,” he said. “So anything else happen today besides Clarissa’s bad behavior?”
“Yeah, your mother dropped by—for my advice.”
“Really? What was that
about?”
“Sex.”
Adam turned to face me directly. “What?”
I laughed. “Well, not sex per se. However, she did want my advice and opinions on a few things. Seems she might have a gentleman friend in her life.”
I went on to explain everything Opal had told me.
Now Adam was laughing and shaking his head. “Leave it to my mother. Well, she should have a male companion, if that’s what she wants. And this guy, Charlie—where’d you say he’s from?”
I was really chuckling now. “No, no. Her friend’s name is Hank. Charlie’s his dog. Now pay attention and get all of it straight.”
“Okay, I’ll take notes,” he said, grinning.
“He’s from Charleston and he’ll be here for a few months. Booked a cottage at the Far Away. Sounds like a nice enough man and he’ll arrive next week, so of course we’ll get to meet him.”
“That’s great. We can always depend on my mother to brighten up an otherwise gloomy day. We’ll have to have them over for dinner.”
“Yup, I already told Opal we’d do that.” I knitted for a few minutes in silence. “What are we going to do about Clarissa? She’s due to go to Carrie Sue’s this coming weekend.”
“I know that. I’m going to have her go, but I’m also going to get in touch with Trent—tell him the situation and see if possibly anything can be done. I feel the same way you do. It’s just not right to force a child to go if she doesn’t want to.”
Unfortunately, I was beginning to see how the court system could work when it came to children, and I felt disheartened as to what the outcome might be.
43
Friday afternoon I was at Spinning Forward working on the mail orders. Dora was knitting away on another Ewedora Stocking.
“Do you need to pick Clarissa up after school today?” she asked.
“No, Adam will get her. She has to go to Carrie Sue’s for the weekend.”
“Hmm, how’s that going?”
“Not that well,” I told her and filled Dora in on the current incidents.
“Such a shame,” she said, attaching another ball of yarn. “Doesn’t seem right, and it’s always the child that suffers. You wouldn’t mind if Carrie Sue was a loving and devoted mother, but we all know that she’s not. And the worst part is so does Clarissa. Makes no sense why that woman would come here and demand that her daughter visit her when she clearly has no interest.”
