Casting About (3 page)

A
fter Adam left for Georgia on Sunday, I began doing laundry and getting the house ready for Clarissa's arrival. I hadn't gotten to her room the day before, so I decided to tackle that first.

When I walked in, I let out a loud gasp. There on the bed, folded up neatly, was my blue sweater. I felt a shiver go through me as I stood rooted to the spot. After a moment, I walked to the bed and tentatively put out a hand to touch the blue wool. How the hell did the sweater end up in here? I hadn't been in this room in ages. And yet—there it was, all folded neatly on top of the spread.

As I picked it up, I suddenly became aware of a fragrance floating in the air. Gardenias—my deceased grandmother Sybile's favorite scent.

Oh, this is insane,
I thought.
I'm just stressed out with Clarissa's arrival. Could I have absentmindedly put the sweater in here?
I sniffed the air, looking around the room. Two twin beds done up with white eyelet comforters and shams, a mahogany table between with a crystal lamp. Except for an antique comb and brush set, the bureau top was empty. No perfume bottles or potpourris of gardenia.

For a split second I recalled what Saren had said the day before about Sybile's spirit. I didn't believe in ghosts. There was no proof of such a thing.

Taking the sweater, I walked to the front hall to hang it up and saw Aunt Dora coming up the walkway.

“Hey,” she said, through the screen. “I brought you some blueberry muffins. Got time for a coffee break?”

“Sure,” I told her, pushing open the door.

She followed me to the kitchen.

I measured coffee into the filter, my mind still on the appearance of the blue sweater.

“You're quiet today. Everything all right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” I poured the water into the coffeemaker and joined her at the table. “The oddest thing just happened,” I said and went on to tell her about the sweater and the gardenia scent in the room.

To my surprise, she didn't laugh or admonish me for being silly.

“Hmm, interesting.”

“Interesting? That's all you have to say? I mean, I suppose I
could
have put the sweater in there—but I don't see why I would've done that.”

Dora remained silent for a few minutes before speaking. “Well, you have to admit, my sister was a pretty strong personality. Who knows…maybe Saren isn't as silly as we think.”

“So what are you saying? That you believe in ghosts?”

“All I'm saying is, the older you get—things aren't always as they seem. Sometimes we should let go of preconceived notions and just be more open to what's around us.”

“Okay, so let's just say that Sybile's
spirit
is hovering around this house. What's the purpose? Why would she be here?”

“You were very close to her, Monica. You hit it off the first time you met and seemed to have a
connection
. Maybe she's here to give you a message or some comfort.”

“A message? About what? And why would I need comfort from her?”

“I'm sure I don't know. Is that coffee ready?”

I got up to get the cups and turned around to face Dora. “Would you go with me into the bedroom? See if you can smell the gardenias?” That room was beginning to give me the creeps, and now I was wondering if perhaps I should put Clarissa into the other bedroom.

“Sure,” my aunt said, leading the way.

We walked over the threshold and stood there for a few moments. I could no longer smell the scent. Everything seemed in order. Sunlight streamed through the windows creating cozy warmth, making me feel foolish for allowing myself to be frightened.

“I don't smell a thing,” she said, looking over at me.

“I don't either. It's gone. Okay, let's just forget the whole thing.”

Dora walked farther into the room. “I would imagine Clarissa will love this room. It's so pretty and feminine.” She put a finger to her lips, and I knew she was thinking.

“What? Something wrong with the room?”

“No, not at all. It's beautiful, with the white eyelet comforters and matching curtains. It's just so—sterile.”

“Sterile?”

“Yeah. Little girls like frills and lace, but it needs something more. Like maybe you could replace those pictures on the wall with something more little girlish.”

I glanced at the framed photos of the water and pelicans I'd taken. She was right. Probably not very exciting for an eight-year-old.

“What do you suggest?”

“A theme. You know, like ballerinas or Dora the Explorer or even dogs and cats.”

“Good idea. How can I do that?”

“The yarn shop's closed tomorrow. Why don't we go into Gainesville? Make a day of it. We'll get some pictures for the walls, a few throw rugs to match the theme, even linens that will appeal to a little girl. There's a lot you can do to make the room more personal. Get some stuffed animals, maybe hang a mobile in that corner. Oh, and a desk. Talk to Adam about getting her one. All little girls love to have their own desk—gives them their own space to do their homework and that kind of stuff.”

I leaned over to kiss Dora's cheek. “You're a genius. Thanks. It's a date. I'll pick you up at nine and we'll hit the big city.”

We walked back to the kitchen to have our coffee.

“How're you really doing with all of this, Monica?”

I shrugged my shoulders and let out a sigh. “I'm not really sure. It all got thrown at us so fast. There wasn't much time to prepare, let alone really think about it.”

“You're doing the right thing, you know. Sounds like that poor child hasn't had a very stable childhood.”

“When I met Adam and found out he had a daughter, I guess I never gave it much thought. She lived in another state and I knew we'd have her with us during the year for visits, but that's not the same as being a full-time stepmom. I'm still not sure how I feel about having my own children. Sometimes I think I'm more like Sybile than I realized.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was very honest right from the beginning when she had my mother. Having children was not in her life plan. She never regretted giving her up for adoption. I know my mom had a hard time understanding that, but Sybile was honest about it. She lived her life on her terms, and getting married and raising a daughter wasn't part of those terms. I remember when she told my mother that not every female is cut out to be a mother—not all of us are born with those maternal genes.”

“So what you're saying is you think you're lacking those genes like Sybile?”

“Could be. All I know is I have no experience with children. I was an only child. Hell, I never even babysat. It didn't interest me, and I preferred having a paper route to make extra money. I can't even recall having a special
doll
like other little girls. If I did, I don't remember.”

Dora smiled. “Being a tomboy or enjoying things other than dolls doesn't mean you're not cut out to be a mother. Monica, I think you're worrying too much about all of this.”

“I'm not even sure Clarissa Jo likes me. Adam and I weren't married last summer when she came to stay here for a month. I was living at the Lighthouse with my mother and only saw Clarissa Jo when Adam would invite me to go somewhere with them. I tried to talk to her, but she pretty much ignored me.”

“Well, she's not going to be able to ignore you living here. She'll have to listen to you and mind you and behave. But she's been through a rough time too. Keep trying to remember that.”

“That's another thing. I've never had to discipline a child. God, I've never even owned a dog that required discipline. And she'll probably end up resenting me if I have to correct her or punish her. I'll just leave that to Adam.”

Dora reached across the table to take my hand. “Monica, listen to me. First of all,
nobody
gets a set of instructions, even when they birth their own babies. It's trial and error. You do the best you can and you learn from your mistakes. But you cannot put the entire burden on Adam. You'll be spending a lot of time alone with her. She has to know you and Adam are on the same page. You have to show a united front when it comes to discipline.”

“Yeah, you're probably right. God, it's so incredible how one's life can change in a heartbeat.”

“Don't I just know that,” she said and I got the feeling she was probably recalling the day she found out that my mother and I were related to her. “Have you inquired about a bank loan yet?”

I shook my head. “Not yet, but our inventory is pretty high and I think we'll be all right for a while. I'm just concerned, though. I hope I don't lose too much income without the mail orders for the spinning.”

“Well, then…you'll just have to get a little creative with other ways to increase your sales.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, I don't know…. Have you considered doing knitting classes? I don't mean the weekly get-together. I mean actually offering various classes and advertising this fact, and of course, you'll charge for this. You could offer various ones—ones for adult knitters, maybe one to teach young girls to knit. Do you know if Clarissa Jo knits?”

That was only one of the many things I didn't know about Adam's daughter. “I don't have a clue.”

“Well, it might be nice to have a class with girls in that age group. And even something for mothers and daughters. And you could keep them theme oriented. In other words, in August or September you could be doing a class to make a Christmas ornament or stocking and then in the spring, maybe a lightweight cotton scarf.”

“You're full of great ideas,” I told her.

Dora laughed. “Just don't worry about it. We'll certainly put our two heads together and come up with projects to keep the sales coming.”

I prayed Dora knew what she was talking about.

O
n Tuesday I returned home from the yarn shop at 2:00, made myself a quick salad with tea, and launched into turning the sterile bedroom into a little girl's delight. Aunt Dora and I had shopped for hours and we came home loaded down with all kinds of items for a child. I had to admit, I was excited about transforming the bedroom into something more appealing for an eight-year-old.

Just as I was about to unload the bags and get to work, Grace called.

“Need some help, Mary Poppins?”

I laughed. “Sure, come on over. But be sure to bring me a double latte. I have my work cut out for me and need the energy.”

“Be there within a half hour,” she told me.

When she arrived, I had a few quick sips of coffee and we set to work. Pulling throw rugs, towels, sheets, stuffed toys, and assorted items from the bags, we got to laughing so hard that it struck me that this was what Christmas morning with siblings might have felt like.

“These are adorable,” Grace said, holding up sets of sheets with Disney characters all over them.

“Yeah, I thought I'd go with the primary colors of the Disney theme. It'll brighten up the room a bit.” Pulling out a pink stuffed angora kitten, I held it up. “Think she'll like this?”

Grace nodded. “Perfect to put on the bed.”

“And I got a few stuffed dogs to go with it,” I said, continuing to dig into more bags.

A couple of hours later, we stood back and surveyed our work. Sheets were on the beds, stuffed animals arranged, towels with ballerinas hung in the bathroom, throw rugs in place.

“Not bad,” I said.

Reaching into the last bag, Grace pulled out wallpaper border. “Do we have to wallpaper now?”

I laughed. “No, we're finished. I got that because it was so cute with the Disney characters and I thought Adam could put it up this weekend.”

“I think she'll like it,” Grace told me. She patted me on the back. “You've done well.”

“This was the easy part, and I know that. By the way, what the heck do kids
eat?
”

Grace smiled. “Everything and nothing. They're all different, but usually they love cereal, cookies, cakes, ice cream, candy….”

“Ah, all nutritional food, huh?”

“Just think back to what you liked when you were eight.”

“My mother didn't give me many choices. And when she did, it was called a treat.”

“You might turn out to be a better mother than you think. Too many of the moms today let the kids call the shots. With meals, bedtime, everything.”

“So you're saying I should restrict her food choices?”

Grace put up a hand and took a step back. “Hey, don't get me involved in this part of it. That's all between you and Adam.”

“Ah, the joys I have to look forward to. Stay for supper with me? I have leftover roast chicken and I can do up some rice and a salad.”

“Sounds good,” Grace said, following me into the kitchen.

 

After Grace left, I was sitting in the great room relaxing with my knitting. I glanced at my watch and saw it was 8:00. Adam would be calling soon. When he'd called the night before he said everything had gone well at the hearing. The judge had revoked custody from Carrie Sue and given full custody to Adam. Carrie Sue was still in the hospital and had been informed by the social worker that Clarissa would be leaving Georgia to live in Florida. She was told that if she wanted visitation, she'd have to retain an attorney and another court date would be set. Since Adam had no contact with Carrie Sue, he wasn't sure what she planned to do.

The phone rang and I answered to hear his voice.

“Hey, sweetheart, how'd it go today?”

“Not bad. I spent the whole day with Clarissa Jo. The foster parents seemed nice, but I'll be glad to get her out of there tomorrow morning.”

“How's she feel about coming here to live with us?”

“She didn't say much. She was pretty quiet most of the day. I took her out for lunch and then we did some shopping for a few new clothes and toys.”

“How does she feel about leaving Carrie Sue?”

“Strangely enough, she barely mentioned her. I get the feeling that life with Carrie Sue wasn't a bed of roses. She seems to be more upset about leaving Trish behind. This is a college student who cared for her after school and, from the sound of it, many evenings when Carrie Sue was out carousing. Trish had plans the night of the accident, and that's why Clarissa was left alone. She begged me to let her see Trish before we leave in the morning, so I called her and I'm taking them both to breakfast before we hit the road.”

“Good idea.” Even though I wasn't sure I wanted the answer, I couldn't resist asking, “Has she mentioned me at all?”

“Not really. I brought you into the conversation a couple times, but I didn't want to push.”

“Right. Well, I have her room all put together. Grace came by this afternoon and helped me. It looks great. I think she'll like it.”

“That was really sweet of you, Monica. I know she'll like it. Did you go with the Disney characters?”

“Yeah, and some ballerinas in the bathroom and a few stuffed toys.”

“I'll tell her all about it tomorrow. God, I'm wiped. It's been a long day.”

I could hear the fatigue in his voice. “Did you have supper yet?”

“Yeah, after I dropped Clarissa, I grabbed a bite at a small restaurant. Home-style Southern cooking.”

“You sound tired, and you have a long drive in the morning. Get some sleep. I love you, Adam. I can't wait to see you tomorrow.”

“And how I love you, Monica. I've missed you.”

 

I normally sleep till about 7:30, but I'd tossed and turned all night and finally got up at 6:00. After showering and dressing, I got my coffee and sat outside on the deck. Another gorgeous day on the island. We were having a beautiful April, and I sat there staring across the street to the water.

Well, I thought, this day was going to change my life dramatically. What surprised me was that my focus the past couple of days had been more on the fact that Clarissa wasn't going to like me, rather than my changed lifestyle. I just wasn't adept with children. I didn't even feel comfortable being in their company. What the heck was I going to talk to her about? I didn't have a clue what the latest movies, music, or toys were for her age group.
And how on earth does one go about learning those things?

“Hey, Miss Monica, what are you doing out there so early?”

I looked out to the road, and there was Saren taking his morning walk.

“Come on up. I have fresh coffee.”

I watched him walk through the yard to the steps for the deck. He was a marvel to me. At eighty-six, he walked every morning and was in excellent health. It's not uncommon for people on the island to live till their nineties and remain in good health till the end. I used to joke that there must be something in the water.

“You're not usually out here this early,” he said, taking a seat across from me.

“Yeah, I know. Adam will be back later today with Clarissa. Guess I just couldn't sleep.”

“Got lots on your mind, do ya?”

I got up to get his coffee and nodded. “Guess you could say that.”

When I returned a moment later and placed the mug in front of him, he said, “Wanna talk about it?”

“I feel that's
all
I've been talking about since last week. And worrying more than talking.”

“Well, the news you got was a lot to take in. Here you are a new bride and getting settled into married life, and boom—now you have a child coming to live with you. That wouldn't be easy for anyone.”

“Did my grandmother like kids when she was younger? Did she do babysitting or anything?”

From the look on Saren's face, I could see I surprised him with my question.

“Well,” he said, stroking his chin in thought. “I reckon she liked kids well enough. She always had Miss Dora tagging around with her. But that was her little sister, so not sure you'd call that babysitting.”

When I remained silent, he said, “Oh, I see what you're gettin' at. Because Sybile gave your mother up for adoption—you're thinkin' you might be like her?”

“It crossed my mind. Yeah.”

“I'm not sure that kinda stuff is passed on. If ya ask me, I think with time you're gonna do just fine.”

I wished I had his confidence.

 

Later in the day, Dora paid me a visit. I opened the door to find her loaded down with assorted things.

“What's all this?” I asked. “Here, let me help you.”

Dora placed a Tupperware container on the counter filled with her delicious chocolate chip cookies.

“I thought Clarissa might like these before bed tonight.”

“Oh, Dora, that was really sweet of you,” I said and realized I'd never made an attempt to bake cookies. Wasn't that what bakeries were for—but all moms baked cookies for their kids, didn't they?

She removed two gift-wrapped packages from the bags.

“And these are for Clarissa. I got her a cute pair of pajamas with Disney characters and also a Madeline doll. Every little girl should have one of those. Just wanted to welcome her proper.”

I pulled Dora into an embrace. “Thank you so much for everything. I'm sure she'll love them. How about a cup of tea?”

“That would be nice,” she said, settling herself at the table. “So when are they due to arrive?”

“Adam called at about two, and they were in Jacksonville, so I'd say around five.”

I filled the kettle with water and put tea bags into two mugs.

“Are you excited?” she asked.

I joined her at the table. “I think I'm feeling excited
and
nervous. Dora, I just don't think I'm cut out to be a mother.”

“Don't be silly. Of course it'll take time to adjust, but before you know it—well, goodness, it'll all seem so routine to you.”

“I've planned roast chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and salad for supper. Do you think that's all right?”

“It sounds wonderful. Don't second-guess yourself. You'll be surprised to learn that motherhood is ninety percent instinct. Always listen to your gut feelings. I'm sure Adam is relieved he'll now have his daughter living with him.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I think he worried about her way more than he let on to me. He knew Carrie Sue wasn't an adequate parent, but the courts today always seem to lean in favor of the mother. It doesn't matter what a loving and responsible parent the father is.”

“Yes, I've heard that, and it's a shame. I imagine it'll be difficult for Clarissa, though, not to be with her mother anymore.”

“Not according to Adam. Apparently Carrie Sue was a party girl most nights of the week. I guess she spent very little time with her daughter.”

“Oh, that
is
a shame. Children need to know they're loved, and of course parents are the ones who should spend the most time with them. I never did agree with having children and then pawning them off on day care or other people to watch them. Now, of course, sometimes that can't be avoided—but whenever possible, I think it's the parent who should be spending the most time with a child in their formative years.”

I thought about Adam saying we'd hire somebody to stay with Clarissa during the hours I was at work and he was teaching summer school classes.

“So what are you saying? I should quit the yarn shop and be here with her?”

I poured water into the mugs while I waited for Dora's answer, but none was forthcoming.

“Well?” I asked.

“Monica, dear, none of this is really my business.”

“You're family,” I told her. “I want your opinion.”

“I just think all of this is going to be difficult enough on the girl, but no, I don't think you should be giving up your job. Have you thought about enrolling her in some of the summer activities we have for the children?”

I shook my head. “No, but I'm sure Adam will know what's available.”

“The Arts Center has a wonderful program during the week, and the library always offers something for them as well. It's a few hours each day. That would give you time to be at the yarn shop, but when you finished, it would be you picking her up and taking her home. Not a stranger.”

Maybe Dora was right. Plus, it would be a way for Clarissa to socialize more with the other children.

“This sounds good,” I said. “I'll discuss it with Adam.”

“Both parents and children need their space, but you might come to see you enjoy the time you spend alone with her.”

It was certainly going to be a new experience for me, but thinking back to my childhood and the hours I'd spent with my own mother lessened my anxiety temporarily.