Casting About (8 page)

T
he next morning I answered the phone to hear a strange voice with a strong Southern accent say, “Is this Mrs. Brooks?”

“Yes,” I replied, wondering if it might be the social worker in Georgia.

“Oh, good. First I want to apologize for not calling you sooner. This is Becky Stratham. I was Clarissa Jo's teacher at school.”

“Okay, is there a problem?”

Her laughter came across the phone. “No, no. Not at all. Clarissa Jo was a model student, and I must say the other children and I missed her when she left. But I'm very glad she was able to relocate to live with you and her father. The reason I'm calling…. Clarissa Jo won first place in the art contest that the school had in April. I'm sure she told you all about it.”

First place in an art contest? Clarissa hadn't uttered one word to me, but I said, “Yes,” waiting for her to continue.

“It was such a shame that she had to miss school that day and not be here to accept her award. There was a nice little ceremony on the stage and all the parents attended. One child from each grade was honored for first place. And then, of course, that night her mother was in the car accident and…well, as you know, Clarissa never did return to school. So I have her award and would like to mail it down to her if that would be all right?”

Such an important event, and Clarissa had neglected to mention this at all. I was certain that Adam had no knowledge about the award, either.

“Oh, yes, that would be great. I know Clarissa would love to have her award, and that's very nice of you.”

I gave Miss Stratham our mailing address and promised to have Clarissa send a letter to her classmates. Hanging up the phone, I wondered why she'd missed school that day, but even more important—why hadn't she shared such good news with us?

 

That evening I pulled Adam into our bedroom to relate the telephone call. “So did you know about this award?” I questioned.

Running a hand through his hair, he let out a deep sigh and shook his head. “Not at all. I mean, it seems like the school had a nice recognition for the students. I don't understand why Clarissa Jo didn't tell us, but I'll bring it up over dinner.”

I joined Clarissa and Adam at the table and participated in the usual dinnertime chitchat.

Just before we finished eating, Adam said, “Clarissa, Monica got a phone call today from Miss Stratham. Why didn't you tell us you won first place in an art contest?”

Clarissa pushed the remaining food around her plate and without looking up said, “It wasn't a big deal.”

“Of course it was a big deal, and even the school thought it was. They had a nice ceremony planned for the winners and their parents, but you weren't there. Were you sick that day?”

“No.”

Adam and I exchanged a look across the table, and he went on. “You weren't sick? Then why weren't you at school that day?”

After a few moments, Clarissa said, “Because Mom wouldn't get up. I had set my alarm and I kept trying to wake her up. I told her it was the morning of the art awards, but she said she didn't feel good and the award wasn't such a big deal. She said I didn't have to be there.”

Hearing those words and seeing the look on Adam's face sent a profound feeling of sadness through me. Carrie Sue hadn't thought it important enough to drive her daughter to school that morning and be present while she received a highly regarded award? My mind flashed back to third grade—I was a finalist in a national spelling bee, and I'll never forget standing on that stage and looking out to the audience to see both of my parents sitting there, beaming with pride.

“Well, it was a big deal,” I heard Adam say, and I knew he was struggling with his emotions. “It was a
very
big deal. As a matter of fact, it was
such
a big deal that was why Miss Stratham called here this morning. She wants you to have your award, and she's mailing it down to you.”

“She is?” Clarissa's head shot up to stare at her father as joy filled her expression.

“She certainly is,” Adam told her emphatically. “And I'm so proud of you! First place in an art contest. Clarissa, you should be very proud of yourself. Not everybody has the talent that you do.”

“But I love drawing,” she said. “For me, it's not hard.”

“That's exactly what your dad means,” I said. “You have a gift, but not everybody does. When it comes to the arts, like dancing or music or writing and drawing—only certain people have been given a gift to excel in these areas, and you're one of them, Clarissa. Like your dad said, you really should be very proud. I'm certainly proud of you.” As soon as I said the words I knew they were true—I felt pride for this child who so willingly accepted the neglect her mother displayed.

“And you know what?” Adam told her. “I think this calls for a celebration. How about Friday we all go into Gainesville for dinner at McAlister's, that deli you like, and then a trip to Toys R Us? How's that sound?”

Clarissa's grin lit up her face. “Oh, cool!”

 

After Clarissa was tucked into bed, Adam and I sat outside on the deck and resumed the conversation concerning the art award.

“Can you believe it?” he said. With Clarissa out of earshot, he allowed his anger to bubble up. “That rotten bitch! Can you believe Carrie Sue was that selfish? It meant nothing at all to her that her daughter was receiving an award. I'd bet anything that she'd been out drinking the night before—she had a hangover. That was why she couldn't get out of bed to drive Clarissa to school. How the hell can a mother have such a lack of caring and responsibility?”

I reached over to rub Adam's arm. “I have to admit that this episode really shows what a poor excuse Carrie Sue is for a mother.”

“And the thing is, if that teacher hadn't called, I'm positive Clarissa never would have mentioned the art award. What kind of message does that send to a child? If her own mother doesn't care enough to celebrate and acknowledge her daughter's accomplishments, Clarissa is never taught to develop self-esteem.”

I heard Adam's voice crack and knew he was having difficulty holding back tears.

“All I can say is, thank God you now have full custody. I just don't understand how a judge couldn't look at the evidence and the situation and in his heart know that you were the better parent to raise her. Divorce is never pleasant, and when children are involved it's even worse. Ideally, a joint custody is the best for children. But in a situation like this where the mother is clearly neglectful…I just don't get it.”

Adam blew out a deep breath. “Neither do I. Hey, I'll be the first to say that in most cases, with two fit parents, a child should spend fifty percent of the time with each parent. When I lost my job in Georgia, we went back to court. I knew that without me around, it would only get worse with Carrie Sue shirking her responsibilities for Clarissa Jo. My lawyer tried, she really did. We called character witnesses who lived in the apartment building where Carrie Sue lived. They testified that she was out until all hours drinking and partying. But did that matter? Not one single bit! She had a qualified babysitter staying there with Clarissa.”

“It's really insane. I just don't understand the law. It makes no sense, and it's
not
about what's best for the child.”

Adam took a sip of sweet tea and shook his head. “No, I'm afraid it's not. Do you know that if a mother is doing drugs in the house with children present, even
that
might not be enough to take away her custody?”

“What?” Surely he was joking!

“I couldn't believe it either, but here's the kicker—if the mom is shooting up cocaine or heroin and she's in the same room as her children, as long as her back is turned to the children there's no cause to remove them from that environment. In order for that to happen, the mom has to be facing the children as she's shooting up the drugs. So yeah, it's beyond insane.”

“I know enough about women's rights and the feminism of the sixties. Most of the time, women truly didn't get a fair shake back then when it came to divorce and child support payments. Hell, most states didn't even go after the fathers if they didn't pay. The mom had no choice—in order to support her children she was at the mercy of the state to provide welfare payments, and I remember my mom telling me about a few friends of hers. It was horribly degrading for a woman to stand in line at the bank cashing a welfare check and taking handouts. But with preschool children, it was impossible for her to work enough to pay the rent and cover all the household expenses.” I shook my head at the unfairness of it. “But I tell you what—that pendulum has swung way too far the other way. Nowadays, fathers can be totally disregarded in many cases. Hell, until recently if a girl got pregnant and chose not to tell the father, he had no rights concerning that child. Look at what Sybile did to Saren.”

Adam squeezed my hand. “I know, and you're so right…. Thank God I finally got custody of my daughter. Hopefully not too much damage was done and the worst is behind us.”

A
dam leaned across our table at the Island Room, raised his glass of wine to me, and said, “To the most beautiful wife in the world. Happy ten-month anniversary.”

I touched the edge of my glass with his and smiled. During the first five months that Adam and I had been married, we'd made a point of going out to celebrate the monthly milestone. But for four months, since Clarissa had moved in with us, somehow we hadn't gotten around to continuing our ritual. I was pleased the day before when Adam informed me that he'd booked us a table so we could celebrate being married for ten months.

“I love you, Adam,” I told him. “Sometimes I wonder how you put up with me.”

He threw his head back laughing. “Yeah, you can be a brat—every bit as much as Clarissa, but I wouldn't trade you for anything.”

I thought back to my failed relationships before meeting Adam. I still wasn't sure if the endings had all been my fault. I just knew I wasn't meant to be with any of them. Adam was my soul mate, and I knew it that first day in the yarn shop.

Halfway through our dinner two gentlemen were seated across from us. Mid forties, well-dressed, obviously businessmen.

Not intending to eavesdrop, I heard the one with dark hair say, “It's only a matter of time till I have her convinced.”

“I wish I felt as confident as you do,” the other one replied.

“If we drive her out, Grace isn't going to have a choice, is she?”

My gasp caused Adam's head to snap up. “Everything all right?”

I nodded and cast a glance to my right. I had never met Tony Rizotti, but I'd have bet anything that was him. What the hell was he referring to? Drive Grace
out?
The last time I'd spoken to Gracie she admitted that while marriage certainly wasn't on the horizon, she was sleeping with Tony, and it was obvious that she cared for him a great deal. Was he only using her? In order to purchase her coffee shop? Hell, it wasn't just her coffee shop—it was her residence. She lived upstairs in the one-bedroom apartment.

Overhearing that conversation put a damper on the rest of the dinner. I couldn't wait for Adam to get the check so we could leave.

As soon as we got outside, I asked, “Did you hear him? Did you hear what he said about Grace?”

Not understanding, Adam said, “Who?”

God, sometimes men could be so dense. “Those two guys sitting across from us. I'm positive one of them was Tony. The
Tony
that Gracie is dating. He said something about driving her out. I told her! I told her to be careful with a developer, but oh no, she wouldn't listen to me. And now—she could find herself right out on the street, just like my mother did when my dad died.”

Adam put an arm around me as we walked toward the car.

“Honey, calm down. Maybe you're overreacting. You probably just misunderstood what was being said.”

“Yeah, right, and it's gonna snow in Florida tomorrow.”

 

I thought the best way to approach the situation with Grace was with a girls' day out. I convinced her to get somebody to cover the coffee shop for the following Saturday, telling her that we owed it to ourselves to just go have some fun for a few hours. She balked at first and then agreed it had been much too long since we'd done something like that.

“This was a good idea, Monica,” she told me as I drove along SR 24 toward Gainesville.

“Of course it was. I'm usually right.”

Grace laughed. “Cripe, you sound like your mother's friend Alison. So we hit the spa first, huh?”

“Yup, we're booked for an eleven o'clock appointment for a facial and pedicure and then lunch at Amelia's.”

“Sounds like fun. So how're things going with Clarissa? I can hardly believe that school starts again next week.”

“Well, I guess we're both holding our own. Kids are just so much work. She's talking a lot more now, that's for sure. Sometimes I long for those days when she was so quiet.”

Grace laughed. “Oh yeah, I know what you're saying. They have a million questions at that age and it's nonstop chatter.”

I nodded. “I'm just not used to it. I was involved in an intricate pattern with my knitting the other night, and she was going on and on about the movie that Adam had taken her and Zoe to see.”

“For what it's worth, Monica, I think you're really doing well with her. Still no further word from Carrie Sue?”

“Nope.”

“How would you feel if she reopened the custody suit? Do you think Clarissa would want to go back to her?”

“Well, Adam has full custody, but there's always the chance that Carrie Sue will try to claim her visitation rights.” I couldn't honestly tell Grace how I felt about this possibility, but I knew I really didn't want to subject that child to Carrie Sue. “Adam seems to think that Clarissa would like to avoid going back and forth.”

“That's understandable. Children thrive on stability. I was fortunate to have such a close relationship with Aunt Maude. Oh, I won't say it wasn't devastating to lose my parents—it was. But I know it would have been so much worse if my aunt hadn't taken me in. Looking back now, that stability meant everything to me.”

I recalled my own secure and stable childhood and knew what she meant.

By the time we walked out of the spa, I felt like a new person.
What is it about pampering that makes a woman feel so rejuvenated?
I glanced down at my bright red nails peeking out from my sandals and smiled. Following the facial, we had the tech apply a new brand of makeup, which of course, we ended up purchasing.

Pulling into a parking spot near Amelia's, I checked my reflection in the visor mirror and then glanced at Grace.

“We look pretty damn good,” I told her.

She laughed. “I'd say we qualify for
hot.
”

With our order given and a glass of wine in front of us, I decided to broach the subject of Tony.

“So how's it going with lover boy?” I said, attempting to start out with humor.

“Now there's somebody that definitely oozes
hot
.”

Great. Obviously she was into this guy, and I was probably going to burst her romantic bubble.

“So…things are getting serious?”

“Well, let's just say things are heating up. I like him, Monica. He's drop-dead gorgeous, has a great sense of humor, and I love being with him.”

Yup, I could definitely hear a
pop
coming.

“Has he mentioned any more about his development work?”

“What? Are you doing interviews for the
Cedar Key News
? Why are you so interested in his line of work?”

“Because I've heard the rumors about a developer wanting to change things on the island—in a big way.”

“Oh, and so based on these rumors, you think Tony might be involved?”

“I have a pretty good idea that he might be, yeah.”

“So what? What's that got to do with me?”
Probably way more than you could imagine,
I thought. But I decided not to spill the beans quite yet about what I overheard at the Island Room. Instead, I thought it might be better to fight fire with fire.

“Hey, are you keeping him hidden for any particular reason?”

“Hidden? Don't be silly. I'm not doing that.”

“Good, then how about you bring Tony over so I can meet him. Friday evening? We'll have a seafood feast on the deck.”

Grace's face lit up. “Oh, that would be fun. Sure. Let me just check with Tony to make sure he's free, but I'd like you to meet him.”

Don't be too sure of that,
I thought.

 

I turned toward the sound of a car door closing to see Grace and Tony walking toward the deck.

“Hey,” I hollered. “Come around back and come on up.”

“Oh, they're here?” Adam said, walking out of the kitchen with a tray of cheese and crackers.

Grace got to the top of the stairs and I could see she'd taken extra care with her hair and clothes. White shorts showed off her long, tan legs, while a pink blouse brought out strawberry highlights in her bouncy curls.

She made the introductions and my first thought was that she was right—he did bear a striking resemblance to George Clooney. I was so upset with what he'd said in the restaurant, I hadn't paid attention.

“Nice to meet you,” he told Adam and me. “You have a lovely place here. Great view.”

Yeah, well, don't even think about scooping up this property, buster.

Everyone decided on white wine and Adam went inside to get a bottle.

“Sit down,” I told them, gesturing to the patio chairs.

“Where's Clarissa?” Grace asked.

“She's spending the night with Opal. They're going to have a Disney movie marathon.”

Adam came out, poured the wine, and I lifted my glass high.

“Here's to beautiful Cedar Key,” I said. “May it always stay the same.”

Gracie shot me a quizzical look, but only nodded.

By the time we'd finished a delicious dinner of Cedar Key clams, mullet, corn on the cob, and salad, I could see why Grace was attracted to Tony. He was a great conversationalist, was attentive to her, had fine manners—and seemed to be a born schmoozer.

“So,” I said, stirring cream into my coffee. “What are your plans for development here on the island?”

Grace's head shot up, but she waited for his answer.

“Well, uh…I'm still not sure.”

“You mean you
are
considering a project here on Cedar Key?” she questioned him. “This is the first I'm hearing about it.”

“Yeah, there's another developer—a good friend of mine. We're tossing around a few ideas.”

I just bet you are,
I thought.

Grace sat up straighter and leaned forward. “Like what?”

Tony seemed absorbed in fingering his napkin. “Oh, it's still too early to know for sure.”

He was being purposely evasive.

“You must have some idea what's being considered. Jewelry shops? Clothing stores? A movie theater?” I wasn't about to back down now.

He nodded. “Yeah, some of those things might be in the works.”

“Hmm,” I said and hated to do this to Grace, but she had to know the truth. “Boy, Gracie's location is prime property, isn't it?”

I saw him visibly squirm as my best friend shot me a bewildered look. Three of us sat there waiting for an answer.

When none was forthcoming, I plunged in. “Gee, that good friend of yours? Was he the one we saw you having dinner with the other evening at the Island Room?” I hoped I wouldn't regret this. “The one that I heard you tell about ‘
driving Grace out'?”

Tony's face registered surprise and then recognition. I knew he was remembering Adam and me from the restaurant.

“What?” Grace exploded. “What the hell are you talking about, Monica? Drive me out of
where?
For Christ sake, will somebody please tell me what's going on?”

Tony stood up. Taking Grace's hand, he pulled her from the chair.

Before he had a chance to say anything, I said, “Only Tony can explain that to you, Gracie.”

“And that's exactly what I intend to do. Thank you for a nice dinner, and I'm sorry the evening ended on a bad note.”

Without as much as a good-bye, Grace followed him down the stairs and out to the car.

I may have lost a friendship, but hopefully my friend wouldn't be losing her business and the roof over her head.