Casting About (15 page)

S
itting in
my
yarn shop looking around at the other women, a warm feeling came over me. Being able to get together with my best friend, great-aunt, and other close women from the island filled me with gratitude. In such a mobile world, so many families and loved ones lived apart, many times only seeing each other at weddings or funerals. It was a special feeling to know that everyone I felt closest to was no more than a twenty-minute walk away, and even though my mother was across the pond, it was only temporary and she was only a phone call or e-mail away. There's a lot to be said for that.

“So then what'd she do?” I heard Twila Faye ask Polly.

“She said, ‘Well, if y'all can't get my hair this shade of red, then I'll just wait and get it done when I'm back home in Atlanta.' Honey, there was no way I was sending her out of
my
shop looking like a fire engine.”

Laughter broke out in the room.

I was working on the sleeves of Clarissa's sweater and had to admit it was looking pretty good. I glanced over at the afghan that Twila Faye was making for her granddaughter. Strips of lavender and pink. Dora was doing an intricate cable pattern on a sweater she planned to give Saren for Christmas, and Polly was attempting her first pair of socks.

“Okay,” Dora said, putting down her knitting. “Everyone ready for coffee and pastry? Break time.”

I got up to help pass out mugs of coffee along with the delicious lemon squares Dora had contributed.

“Heard from your mama lately?” Twila Faye asked.

I nodded and brought everyone up to date on her latest Parisian escapades.

“You think she likes it better than here?” Polly questioned.

“Not
better.
No. This island and Paris are her two favorite places in the world. But they're both different. And she loves them for different reasons—but they're both in her soul.”

I smiled. I had to agree with my mother. I'd been to Paris years before she had gone, and it had the same effect on me. I loved it just as much as Cedar Key—but in a different way.

“So, Grace,” Dora asked. “Are you managing to run that other coffee shop into the ground?”

“I'm not sure about that, but I do know that so far my weekend business hasn't suffered at all.”

“That's great.” Twyla Faye pointed a finger in the air. “That man will learn—y'all don't fool with us Southern women. When we set out to do something, we do it. There's no backing down for us. I reckon he'll find out soon enough he'd do better to mosey on outta here.”

This brought forth more laughter.

“Hey,” Polly said. “Did y'all hear about Nina and Carolyn from the Garden Club going to Vegas?”

“Yeah, I knew they were out there last month,” I said. “Why? What happened?”

Polly chuckled. “Well, this is a good one. Seems Nina thought it might be a good idea if they visited one of those…houses of ill repute on the outskirts of town.”

Twyla Faye leaned forward. “Lord above, are you serious?”

“Yup.” Polly shook her head, trying to control her laughter. “They went out there one afternoon and actually got a tour from the madam.”

“I never knew they gave tours,” Twila Faye said. “What all did they see?”

“Well, Carolyn said it was a nice-looking house. Well maintained. In the front room there was a silk sofa—for the men to sit. The women parade out and the
customers
choose which woman they'd like to hire.”

“And this is all legal out there, right?”

Polly nodded. “Yup. Nina said the house was circular and lots of rooms ran off the main one. That's where they service the men. And then out back, there was a swimming pool and little cabanas, like small cottages. The madam told them men can hire those with a woman for the entire night, to the tune of fifteen hundred dollars.”

“Lord above,” Dora said. “There's some serious money in that profession.”

“Carolyn said the madam was just twenty-six—drop-dead gorgeous. Real Hollywood material. So Carolyn asked her why she was in that line of work and did her family know. The girl told her she'd gone to Vegas initially to work as an executive for a large company and her family thought that's what she was still doing. She's college educated and everything. Said there was no way she could afford to live on her salary. So she was doing this strictly for money. Told them she was working a few more years and then she was retiring. Imagine that.” Polly took a sip of coffee and began chuckling again. “But the best part of the story is the girl told Carolyn and Nina they should consider joining her business.”

“What?” Twila Faye could barely contain her shock. “You can't be serious!”

“Yup—the girl told them that middle-aged women have become very popular in that line of business. Seems some men have a mother complex or some such thing and they prefer to be with women over fifty.”

Laughter filled the yarn shop.

“Cellulite and all?” Grace questioned.

“Guess so,” Polly said. “Hey, now there's a great trip for us Red Hatters. Out to Vegas.”

Dora laughed. “Right. For a vacation or to work?”

A smirk formed on Polly's face. “Well, now—maybe we could work in a bit of both.”

“Leave it to Carolyn and Nina to go checking out a place like that,” Grace said, still laughing. “You gals are worse than teenagers.”

“Hey,” Polly told her. “Age is simply a number. Having fun keeps ya young.”

“Very true,” Dora agreed. “And I agree that laughter really
is
the best medicine.”

“See what we have to look forward to,” Grace told me, a grin covering her face.

I nodded. “Yup, we have some pretty good mentors here to learn from.”

The conversation then turned to Adam and Carrie Sue.

“Oh, I can't picture somebody like that coming to live on the island,” Twila Faye said after hearing my update.

“Yeah, that's what Adam seems to think too. I just hope you're right. I mean, at least Clarissa would still be right here if she had to visit her, but—from what I've heard about Carrie Sue, well…it would be awkward, I think.”

“I agree with Twila Faye,” Dora said. “Not everybody could live on our island. And during all my years living here, I've come to see it's pretty much black or white. You either love it or you hate it. There's no in between. A lot of people couldn't live in a town without a doctor or pharmacy, not to mention a movie theater or fancy shopping.”

Grace laughed. “Right. All the reasons why
we
love it.”

I joined her laughter and nodded. “True. Well, I'm just hoping she'll stay up there in Georgia. Besides, Clarissa doesn't seem very fond of getting together with her mother.”

“And there has to be a valid reason for that,” Dora replied. “I've always said that young people are an excellent judge of character.”

Although I was no expert on children, I felt Dora was correct.

I
was on the back steps tending to my potted periwinkles when I heard the phone inside ringing. Dashing into the kitchen, I neglected to shut the door behind me. In a flash, I saw Billie bolt past with one of my Manolo Blahnik high heels in her mouth. Letting the answering machine take the call, I turned around and headed down the stairs in pursuit of Billie.

Before I knew what was happening, I felt myself flung forward with no way to break my fall. I landed at the foot of the stairs dazed and in pain.

“Oh, God,” I said, reaching down to touch my already swelling ankle. Looking around the yard, I realized that Billie had gone. She'd never been loose or off her leash.

“Clarissa,” I yelled, hoping she'd hear me in her room.

The pain was too intense for me to stand on my own.

Clarissa appeared at the top of the stairs and gasped. “Monica, are you all right?”

Why do people always ask dumb questions in these situations?

“No,” I spat out between clenched teeth as the pain intensified. “I'm
not
all right. Billie grabbed my shoe and took off and I can't stand up.”

Without saying a word, Clarissa spun around and went back into the house. I heard the front door slam and realized she was taking off to find that stupid dog rather than helping me.

I slid to the first step, holding on to the railing, hoping I'd somehow be able to make it up the stairs.

A moment later both Clarissa and Miss Tilly came running from the side of the house.

“Gracious me,” Tilly exclaimed. “Oh, you poor dear.”

My guilt was now more intense than the pain in my ankle. Here I was thinking Clarissa had abandoned me and she'd run for help.

“Here,” Tilly said, “You grab the railing and lean on me. We'll make it up the stairs.”

“Can I do anything?” Clarissa asked, her face covered with fear.

“Yes, sugar,” Tilly told her. “Get some ice cubes from the freezer and get them all wrapped up in a towel.”

Following Tilly's instructions, I leaned on her arm while my left hand gripped the railing. Slowly, we made our way to the top and into the kitchen. Still leaning on her, I shuffled to the sofa, where I collapsed in relief.

“Here,” Clarissa said, passing the towel to Tilly.

“Oh, my, you have quite a bruise here,” she told me, placing the freezing mound on my ankle.

I winced from the cold, but within seconds a welcome numbness encircled the injured area.

“I don't think it's broken,” Tilly said. “Just a bad sprain, I'm sure.”

As the pain began to subside, I remembered Billie.

“Oh, Clarissa, did you find Billie?”

She shook her head and I saw the sparkle of tears fill her eyes.

“Get me the phone. I'll call your dad at school. He should be about finished with his meetings now and can go look for her.”

When I explained the situation to Adam, his first words were, “Are you sure you're okay? Maybe we should take you into Chiefland to see a doctor?”

“No, I think it's just a sprain. But Billie has disappeared. You need to look for her on your way home.”

“I'm leaving now. Tell Clarissa I'll find her.”

Disconnecting, I saw the worry on Clarissa's face. “He's leaving right now. He'll find her.”

“But…she's never been loose. She's not used to cars and stuff.”

My fear exactly. “Yeah, but people on the island are careful with loose dogs. Besides, our speed limit isn't above twenty.” Somehow, I knew this was no comfort to her.

“Thank you so much for coming to the rescue,” I told Tilly.

“Oh, it was this young lady here who did that. She had the presence of mind to come and get me.”

I nodded. Yeah, maybe at the cost of losing her beloved dog.

“How about some tea, Miss Monica?” Tilly was already heading into the kitchen.

“Thanks,” I said and wished I could get out there myself to search for Billie.

An hour later Adam returned home—without a dog.

 

Opal found out about my spill down the stairs and insisted on coming over to prepare dinner for us.

Reclining on the sofa, my ankle propped on pillows, I could hear her working away in the kitchen. The aroma of meat loaf drifted out to me. Glancing at the clock on the mantel, I realized Adam and Clarissa had been gone almost two hours searching for Billie. I prayed they'd return home with the dog.

A few minutes later I heard the front door open and saw them enter the great room. I could tell by the look on their faces that Billie had not been found.

“Nothing?” I questioned.

Adam shook his head as Clarissa headed to her bedroom.

“God, we looked everywhere. Downtown. Out by the airport. Drove out to Jernigan and the other end of the island. Nothing.”

Fear gripped me as I began to face the fact that we might never see Billie again. What would this do to Clarissa? First she'd lost her mother, then her best friend, and now—the most important thing in the world to her. A child could only deal with so much loss.

I let out a deep sigh. “I'm so sorry, Adam. I'm so sorry this happened.”

He came to sit beside me, taking my hand. “It wasn't your fault, Monica. It was just one of those things.”

And just when Clarissa and I were beginning to possibly forge a relationship, this had to happen. “She'll never forgive me. It was me that had the back door open.”

“Don't be silly. She knows it was an accident. You didn't mean for Billie to get loose and run away.”

Just like she didn't mean to spill my perfume bottle? Or cut her hair? Or let the washing machine overflow? And how forgiving had I been? I couldn't blame her if she hated me. Making it even worse was that maybe if she'd run out of the house immediately, she could have caught Billie. But no, she ran next door to get help for me. The term
wicked stepmother
was beginning to take on a whole new meaning.

“No luck?” I heard Opal ask and glanced up to see her in the great room.

“I'm afraid not,” Adam told her.

“That poor child must be devastated. I made up a small bowl of macaroni and cheese for her with the meat loaf.”

Leave it to a grandmother to soothe a child's pain with comfort food.

“I'm not sure Clarissa feels like eating, and I'm not going to force her tonight,” he said, heading toward her bedroom.

“Dinner's all ready. Do you need some help getting to the table?” Opal asked.

I shook my head as I slid to the edge of the sofa. Grabbing the arm, I pulled myself to a standing position. “No, I can manage. Thanks.” In all honesty, food was the last thing I wanted but I didn't want to offend Opal, so I limped my way to the kitchen table.

Adam came in and sat beside me a few moments later. “No,” he told us. “She's not hungry right now.”

“Poor baby,” Opal said, passing a bowl of mashed potatoes. “Well, all you have to do is zap that mac and cheese in the microwave later if she wants it.”

I pushed green beans around my plate. “Is there anything else we can do?”

“Beyond putting the word out that Billie is missing and passing out flyers with her photo, I can't think of anything else. She has her tags on with Clarissa's name and phone number.”

And yet, the telephone remained silent.

“Is everything all set with Dora for Thanksgiving?” Opal asked, which I'm sure was an attempt to lighten the dinner conversation.

I nodded. “Yeah, she's been cooking up a storm. Making her famous pies and chutney. I want to bring something, but I'm not sure what. Are you making your key lime pie?”

“Yup. That's my signature dessert. Adam said you're bringing some wine. Why don't you do up a trail mix to nibble on?”

“Hmm, that's a good idea,” I said as the telephone rang, causing me to jump.

Adam got up to answer and I prayed it was good news about Billie, but I heard him say, “Hi, Sydney. Yeah, she's right here.”

I took the phone, “Hi, Mom.”

“Monica, Miss Tilly called Dora, who called me about your fall down the stairs. Are you okay?”

That coconut pipeline again—it even reached all the way to France. “Yes, I'm fine. Just a little sprain. Opal's here and she made supper for us. But Billie's gone. She scooted out the door, and I fell trying to catch her.”

“Oh, no! Poor Clarissa must be so upset.”

“She is, and I feel just horrible. Adam took her all over the island and they can't find Billie.”

“Geez, where the heck can she be? She's so attached to Clarissa, it seems odd that she'd just run away. And it must be getting dark there now.”

That thought had already crossed my mind. Tough enough to try to locate a lost dog during the day—but darkness made it almost impossible.

“Well, listen,” my mother said, “it's certainly not your fault. I feel confident that Billie will turn up. Keep me posted.”

“Thanks, Mom. I appreciate it.”

“Monica, keep that leg elevated to decrease the swelling. You might want to take some Tylenol also for the inflammation and pain.”

I smiled. Once a nurse, always a nurse.

“Will do,” I said, hanging up.

Somehow we managed to get through the rest of dinner. Adam and Opal instructed me to resume my spot on the sofa while they cleaned up the kitchen. Adjusting a pillow under my leg, I was aware that Clarissa remained behind her bedroom door.

“Honey, I'm going to drive my mom home,” Adam said, coming over to plant a kiss on my cheek. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, I'm fine. Thanks.”

I wondered if maybe I should go and check on Clarissa. Damn, why did this have to happen? And what would we do if Billie was never found? I glanced up to see Clarissa walking slowly toward me. If it was possible, I thought she looked even more lost and dejected than the day she'd arrived at our house.

“Oh, Clarissa, sweetheart,” I said, instinctively reaching my arms out toward her.

She came to sit beside me, allowing me to encircle her. Her face was splotched with red marks that told me she'd been crying continuously behind her closed door.

I tightened my arm around her. “I am
so
sorry that Billie ran away.” And in that moment my stomach lurched and I felt an unfamiliar gnawing. I knew it wasn't due to skimping on dinner. It was deeper than that. Feelings of pain combined with fear—a feeling that seemed to match the look on Clarissa's face.

“I know it wasn't your fault, Monica.”

The child's voice was muffled against my chest and without any warning I felt tears on my face.

“But I'm so worried about Billie,” she sniffled. “Do you think maybe she's hurt? Or that she really wants to come home but just doesn't know the way? She's not a big dog and she's never been out on her own.”

Making an attempt to compose myself, I said, “No, she's not a big dog, but she's extremely bright. Just like you are. You know what I think? I think Billie wanted a bit of an adventure. You know how dog friendly she is. I think once she got loose she thought she'd do some visiting. And I bet she's just making the rounds all around the island. That little stinker has us worried sick—and she's probably having a grand ol' time.”

Clarissa pulled away to look directly at me. “Maybe,” she said with hesitation. “I just miss her so much and I want her to be okay.”

A fresh flood of tears coursed down her face and I felt utterly helpless. There wasn't a thing I could do to take away this child's anguish—anguish that I felt every bit as deeply.