Casting About (19 page)

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Authors: Terri DuLong

Tags: #Fashion, #Art, #Secrets, #Juvenile Fiction, #Clothing & Dress, #City & Town Life, #Schoolgirls, #Fashion designers, #Identity, #Secrecy, #Schools, #Girls & Women, #Fiction, #School & Education, #Lifestyles, #Identity (Psychology), #Cedar Key (Fla.), #Romance, #Knitting, #Contemporary Women, #Motherhood, #Contemporary, #General

BOOK: Casting About
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36

F
riday afternoon I was sitting on the deck working on Grace's scarf waiting for Adam and Clarissa to arrive home from school. We were having one of those glorious winter days on the island where the temperature hovered close to seventy. I couldn't seem to stop thinking about the fact that we had to take Clarissa to Carrie Sue's that afternoon. It just seemed so wrong. But to Clarissa's credit, she had been good about it even though it was obvious she didn't want to go. I glanced up to see my husband and stepdaughter walking into the yard.

“Hey,” I yelled, putting my knitting down.

I watched Adam come up the stairs and noticed how tired he was looking. This situation with Carrie Sue was taking its toll on him.

“Good day at school?” I asked Clarissa as Adam leaned in to place a kiss on my lips.

She nodded. “We practiced for the Christmas play again. I knew all of my lines for Mary.”

I smiled. “Of course you did.” Adam and I were quite proud that she'd been chosen to play such an important part.

“And you won't forget it's Tuesday night?” she asked.

“Are you kidding?” Adam exclaimed. “I think we've marked it on every calendar in the house.”

“And Grandma's still coming?”

“Absolutely,” I told her. “And Aunt Dora, Saren, and Gracie will be there. They wouldn't miss it for anything.”

She started to head to her room and stopped to turn around. “Do we have to invite Mama?” she asked Adam.

“Clarissa, that wouldn't be very nice not to include her.”

“She probably won't come anyway,” she mumbled under her breath before walking off.

 

Adam had been grading school papers, while I sat on the sofa knitting. Glancing up at the mantel clock, I saw it was already four.

“Oh, gosh, I'd better make sure Clarissa's all set to go to Carrie Sue's,” I said, jumping up and heading to her bedroom.

She was sitting on the bed, Billie curled up beside her, reading a book. I looked around the room. “Where's your backpack?” I asked.

“Oh,” she said, without enthusiasm. “I have to pack.”

“Clarissa, you still haven't packed? I put all of your things on your bureau. There they are,” I said, walking over to the neatly folded piles of clothes. “I'll put them in your backpack and you get your toothbrush and the stuff in the bathroom that you'll need.”

Ever so slowly she slid from the bed. She returned a few minutes later with brush, comb, and her other essentials.

“Okay, put them in here. We have to get a move on. Carrie Sue is expecting you at four-thirty.”

“Are you sure you'll pay attention to Billie while I'm gone? She's going to miss me.”

She was right. “Of course, I will, Clarissa. We're going to your grandmother's for dinner this evening, and Billie's coming with us. We'll walk over with her so she'll get her exercise.”

This brought a smile to Clarissa's face. “Thank you, and tell Grandma thank you for letting Billie come.”

I zipped up her bag. “Okay, I think we're all set,” I said, heading out of the room.

“Wait a sec,” she hollered, holding up her knitting bag. “Can I take this?”

“Of course you can.”

“But what'll I do if I have a problem? My mother doesn't know how to knit.”

Hmm, good question. “You're knitting so well now I have a feeling you won't be making any mistakes.”

 

I wasn't sure if I should accompany Adam and Clarissa to Carrie Sue's house, but Adam had insisted. “You have every right to be there,” he told me.

We climbed the stairs to the condo with Clarissa between us. Finding the correct number, Adam knocked on the door. We waited a minute or two and when nobody answered, Adam knocked again, harder this time.

“Oh, for goodness sake, give a girl time to get outta the bathroom,” we heard Carrie Sue holler from inside and a moment later she swung open the door.

Her eyes went directly to me. “Oh, I didn't know y'all were comin' too.”

Without hesitating, I said, “Well, since this is where my stepdaughter's spending the weekend, I wanted to be sure the accommodations were adequate.”

Tossing her head, Carrie Sue moved aside to let us enter. “Does this meet with your approval?”

We stepped into a small living room furnished with Key West furniture and décor. Shades of mauve and mint green covered the wicker sofa and chair cushions. Prints of pelicans and egrets hung from the walls. Stacks of newspapers were ready to topple off the coffee table where some dirty cups and dishes still sat, never making it to the dishwasher. A jacket and sweater had been tossed over the back of a chair and the distinct odor of cigarette smoke filled the room. My eyes went to the overflowing ashtray on the end table. Meet with my approval? No, not at all. But I remained silent.

“Carrie Sue, I thought we discussed that I didn't want Clarissa subjected to your cigarette smoke,” Adam told her.

“Oh, for goodness sake. I've got a can of Lysol right here,” she said, going into the kitchen. She returned and began spraying the room. “And yes, okay. While she's here, I'll only be smoking out there on the balcony.” She pointed to a small covered area, accessed through sliding glass doors from the living room, where a small patio table and chairs were arranged.

“Well, come on, sugar, let Mama show you your bedroom,” she told Clarissa and we followed her to a hallway that led to the room.

Nice enough, although not nearly as nice as the one she had at our house. Twin bed, bureau, end table, also in the Key West touristy décor.

“Isn't this nice?” Carrie Sue asked.

Well, it was certainly neater than the living room.

“Yup,” was all Clarissa said.

“Okay,” Adam told her, walking toward the front door. “We'll pick Clarissa up Sunday afternoon around three. She has school on Monday. What are your plans for tomorrow?”

“Plans?” Carrie Sue asked, like she'd never heard the word before. “Oh…well…um…I thought maybe we'd take a ride to Chiefland. To Super Walmart and do some Christmas shopping.”

Super Walmart for the woman who was probably Neiman Marcus's best customer? And drive? I wondered how responsible she was on the road.

“Okay,” Adam said, pulling Clarissa into a tight embrace and kissing her. “You be a good girl, and we'll see you on Sunday.”

She nodded and immediately headed toward me. Surprised, I opened my arms to accept her embrace and realized she'd made no attempt to hug her mother. Yet here she was displaying affection toward me. I kissed her cheek and held her back to look down into her face.

“You have a good time, and don't worry about Billie. We'll take very good care of her.”

She nodded and we walked out of the condo. By the time we reached the bottom step, I felt moisture in my eyes. Dear God, I felt like I'd just dropped my puppy off at a pound—with no guarantee of the care it would receive.

 

“Well, I don't care about laws and judges,” Opal stated, swinging her fork in the air as she spoke. “All I know is that Carrie Sue is the poorest excuse for a mother that I've ever seen.”

For once, I had to totally agree with my mother-in-law.

“It's not right. It's just not right that that poor child should have to endure the likes of her. And all I can say is nothing better happen to my granddaughter when she's in the care of that lowlife.”

Adam shook his head. “Mom, please. Enough. We all feel the same way, and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. And I'm going to tell you again, do
not
say any of this in front of Clarissa.”

Opal took a sip of her wine. “Oh, for goodness sake, Adam, give me more credit than that. I just hate the thought of that child being with Carrie Sue. And what's she going to do with her all weekend?”

Adam pushed roast pork around on his plate. “She said maybe they'd take a ride to Super Walmart tomorrow.”

Opal sniffed. “Oh, she's going slummin'?”

I smiled. My thought exactly.

Poor Adam was feeling bad enough, and although Opal meant well, she didn't need to be badgering him, making him feel worse.

“Opal,” I said, “this roast is delicious. I don't know how you always get it so perfect.”

“Southern cookin' passed down for generations,” she told me. “And we have my key lime pie for dessert, so eat up.”

The rest of the dinner conversation centered on Clarissa's play and Christmas.

After we loaded the dishwasher, the three of us sat down to enjoy coffee and Opal's famous pie.

“Ya know,” she said, shooting a glance across the table to Adam. “I have one more thing to say on the subject of Clarissa staying with Carrie Sue and then I'll hold my peace.” When Adam remained silent, she went on, “I'd feel a whole lot better if that child at least had a cell phone with her. There's no telephone at Carrie Sue's house, is there?”

Opal was right. Since Carrie Sue had a cell, she didn't bother to turn on phone service.

Adam looked up at his mother. “Geez, you're probably right. I never gave that a thought. She should have a way to contact us if she needs us. I'll look into that right away on Monday. That's a good idea. Thanks, Mom.”

I saw the self-satisfied grin that spread across Opal's face and smiled myself. Opal could be a pain, but she had a good heart and she was proving to be a very involved and concerned grandmother. Couldn't ask for more than that.

37

S
omehow Adam and I managed to get through the weekend, but I won't lie, the house was terribly empty without Clarissa around. Poor Billie just moped and whined despite all the extra attention I lavished on her.

We even took Grace's suggestion, and Saturday evening we relaxed in the hot tub with a bottle of excellent champagne, which of course led to some excellent lovemaking. Knowing we had the house to ourselves, like before Clarissa had come to live with us, seemed to bring out a more frisky and passionate side to our sex.

But when I awoke Sunday morning and wandered into the kitchen to make coffee, Clarissa's absence was once again noticeable. While the coffee brewed, I put on my robe and walked outside to get the paper.

“Monica?” I heard my name being called and turned around to see Miss Tilly walking toward me.

“Good morning, Miss Tilly. How're you today?”

“Well, a bit upset if truth be told. Where's that lovely stepdaughter of yours?”

“Clarissa? Oh…well…her mother has moved to Cedar Key and will be taking Clarissa every other weekend. This was their weekend together.”

“Is that so? Well, somebody needs to be keeping a closer check on that woman.”

What on earth was she talking about? “What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, I'm not one to carry tales, but…when it involves a child and especially one as sweet as that Clarissa, well, I don't think I should hold my tongue.”

Irritation came over me.
Just spit it out,
I wanted to yell at her. “What exactly are you talking about?”

“I happened to be at Walmart yesterday afternoon.” She adjusted her eyeglasses to stare directly at me. “There I was, in the cat section looking for some Christmas toys for my Fluffy, when all of a sudden it came over the loudspeaker that a little girl was at the courtesy desk at the front of the store. Clarissa Brooks was her name, they said, and could her mother please come and get her.”

“What?” I exclaimed. Carrie Sue lost Clarissa in Walmart? “Oh, my God. Did Carrie Sue get her?”

Tilly pursed her lips and made a face. “Oh, yeah, she showed up—hobbling across the floor barefoot to the courtesy desk.”

“Barefoot?” What the hell!

“Yeah, it was obvious she'd been getting herself a pedicure there at the front of the store. What kind of mother leaves a nine-year-old alone to get her toenails painted?”

The question of the century. “Was she okay? Was Clarissa all right?”

“She seemed to be. I was gonna walk up to them, but I stood in the aisle watching. Trying to mind my own business, ya know. So I hung around to see what was happening. She took Clarissa back with her to the salon, got her shoes on, paid what she owed, and walked out of the store. I followed them to the parking lot, just to make sure everything was okay, and I saw them both get in the car and take off.”

“Oh, my God, anything could have happened to Clarissa.” I could feel anger bubbling up inside me.

“Well, yes, exactly. That's why I thought I should tell you. Mind you, I don't like gossip, but as I said, when it involves a child….”

I leaned over and hugged Tilly. “No, no, you did the right thing. Thank you, Tilly. I really do appreciate it.”

I walked toward the house and dreaded having to lay this on Adam.

 

An hour later my anger still hadn't subsided. “Can you believe this?” I said to Adam after revealing Tilly's story. “What the hell kind of mother does something like that?”

His voice was controlled but I knew he was as upset as I was. “One who just doesn't
think.
Typical of Carrie Sue. Thank God Clarissa was smart enough to go the courtesy desk.”

“She's a bright little girl,” I said, placing French toast in front of him. “Now what? Are you going to have it out with Carrie Sue?” I wanted her punished. She didn't deserve the right to have Clarissa.

Adam stirred cream into his coffee. “I will, of course, but not in front of Clarissa. When we pick her up this afternoon, why don't we take Billie with us, and if you wouldn't mind, you could walk back with Clarissa and I'll stay and talk to Carrie Sue. I'll be instituting a new rule—no way is she to take that child off the island. She either visits with her here or not at all.”

Didn't sound like much of a punishment to me, but I trusted Adam's judgment. “Okay. Are you going to discuss it with Clarissa?”

“I'd rather she tell us what happened, see what she says.”

 

I waited in the parking lot with Billie on her leash. The poor dog had moped all weekend. A few minutes later Clarissa came running down the stairs and straight to Billie.

Scooping the dog up in her arms, she cooed, “Oh, Billie, I missed you so much! I'm sorry I had to leave you.” She buried her face in the dog's fur.

“She missed you a lot too, but I gave her extra attention. How're you doing? Have a good weekend?” I asked as we started walking home.

“It was okay. Thank you for being so nice to Billie.”

We walked along in silence the rest of the way home.

Walking in the kitchen door, Clarissa put her backpack and knitting bag on the counter, unclipped Billie's leash, and said, “Is it okay if I go check my e-mails? I haven't been able to talk to Zoe.”

“Of course it is. I'll empty your backpack and put the dirty clothes in the laundry room.”

Hmm, not one word about her escapade in Walmart.

After emptying the backpack, I peeked in her knitting bag and was astonished—the entire scarf was finished except for binding off. When on earth had she found the time to do all that knitting? Didn't Carrie Sue spend any time with her?

Adam arrived home about forty-five minutes later and I could tell by his face that the confrontation with Carrie Sue had only provoked his anger.

“How'd it go?” I asked. “Coffee? I just made a pot.”

Coming over to give me a hug, he said, “Yeah, that'd be great. It went like I thought it would. At first she denied what happened—”

“Denied what happened?” I cut in. “How could she? Tilly witnessed it.”

“She's a pathological liar, Monica. But I had her backed into a corner when I described exactly what happened. She wanted to know how I knew, and of course I wasn't about to tell her. According to her, she says she brought Clarissa to the toy department, told her to look around and then come to the front of the store to the salon.”

“Even at that—you don't leave a nine-year-old alone in Walmart. Not with all the nuts out there today! Do you believe her?”

“Not at all, because knowing Clarissa, I think she would have preferred to sit in the salon and wait for her, rather than be alone in the toy department. Has she said anything to you about it?”

“Not a word, but I noticed her entire scarf is finished. How the heck did she manage that? Didn't Carrie Sue spend any one-on-one time with her?”

“Probably not. I told her she is never to drive Clarissa off the island. Actually, that didn't seem to faze her in the least. Where's Clarissa now?”

“On the computer, talking to Zoe.”

“When she comes out, we'll discuss it and hear her side of the story.”

We were finishing up our coffee when Clarissa wandered into the kitchen, Billie close at her heels.

“Clarissa, come sit down,” Adam told her. “I want to ask you about something.”

Her glance shot from me to Adam as she slid into the chair. “What?”

“Did you go to Walmart yesterday with your mother?”

“Yeah,” was all she said, not volunteering any further information.

Adam gave her a few moments and then went on. “We happen to know that you got left in the toy department. How'd that happen?”

Clarissa's head shot up and then she began fingering the place mat in front of her.

“Clarissa?”

“Did Mama tell you?”

“No, she didn't. Somebody else did.”

“Oh, the lady that helped me?”

I was sure she didn't mean Tilly, because Tilly would have told me if she'd gotten involved.

“Which lady?” Adam asked her.

“You know, the nice one. The one that always helps me.”

Goose bumps formed on my body and I crossed my arms in front of my chest. Was she referring to Sybile?

“Tell us what happened,” Adam encouraged her.

“When we got there, she asked if I wanted to look in the toy department with her and choose something for Christmas. So I said okay. I looked at different things and then we went into the book aisle. I had looked at a few books and I thought Mama was right there, in back of me, waiting. But when I turned around, she was gone. She wasn't there. So I went in the next aisle and all the other ones in the toy department—but I couldn't find her. I started to get a little scared. It was a big store and lots of people and I didn't know what to do. And that's when the lady came to me. She was standing in front of me and asked if I needed help and I told her yes, I couldn't find my mother. She told me to walk up front to where a big desk was and there'd be a woman there to help me. So that's what I did.”

“You're a very smart and a very brave girl,” Adam told her. “And then they announced your name on the loudspeaker and your mother came?”

Clarissa nodded. “Yup. She was getting her toenails done, because she came over barefoot with a funny, pink rubber thing between her toes. Then we came home—I never did get the toy.”

I felt a lump in my throat. Carrie Sue had intentionally left her daughter in the toy department to keep her occupied while she got her pedicure.

“Don't worry about the toy, Clarissa,” I told her. “Our tree will be overflowing with toys for you.” I got up and leaned over to hug her and I saw a small smile form on her face.

 

Later that evening, I was sitting on the sofa knitting while Adam graded papers beside me. Clarissa was curled up in the chair reading.

He put the papers aside and stood up. “Time for bed, princess,” he told Clarissa.

Carefully inserting her bookmark between the pages, she closed the book and set it on the table. “Good night, Monica,” she said.

She walked toward me, leaned forward with arms extended, and gave me a huge hug. My arms automatically went around her as I kissed the side of her face, and I admit it—I melted. To have this child come to me of her own accord for a good-night hug said volumes to me—much more than the actual physical act. I glanced up over Clarissa's head to see Adam standing there, a huge smile on his face.

“Good night, Clarissa. Sweet dreams,” I told her.

Watching them walk out of the room, I wondered again about the woman who helped Clarissa. Could it be possible? Could Sybile have designated herself my stepdaughter's guardian angel?

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