by Terri DuLong
It suddenly occurred to me that when Clarissa Jo descended on my household, it wouldn’t be long before Adam and I were fodder for the coconut pipeline.
2
After I got the Alfredo sauce made for the pasta, I put together a salad and then poured myself a glass of Cabernet. Sitting at the kitchen table, I took a sip and realized I was tired. Stress has a way of draining people, and I was feeling mighty drained after the events of this morning.
Glancing around the kitchen, I smiled. I just loved our home. The house had been in Adam’s family for three generations. When he returned to the island two years before, he’d had it remodeled and refurbished. With three bedrooms, three bathrooms, a great room, and eat-in kitchen, it was spacious but not overly large for two people. We’d taken the third bedroom and turned it into a studio of sorts for my knitting projects. It was really a mish-mosh of a house, but that’s what added to its character. The master bedroom, bath, and an attached sitting area had been added on, so it jutted out from the side of the house. The great room and kitchen comprised the middle area, similar to cracker houses in the South, and on the other side were two bedrooms and baths. The house had been long paid for when Adam inherited it. But the killer taxes on Cedar Key, in addition to the astronomical premiums for wind and flood insurance, made these payments almost as costly as having a mortgage. Another reason why I hoped the yarn shop would be a success and help us financially.
I loved our view of the water just across the street, a large deck where we entertained and enjoyed the island air, and I loved the feel that the old house gave off. I wondered what it would be like to have toys taking up my space, the constant babble of a child or sticky kitchen counters from peanut butter and jelly.
The phone rang, and as I walked toward the spot where we always kept it in the base, I realized the handset wasn’t there. Turning around in the kitchen, I followed the sound out to the deck and saw the portable phone sitting on the patio table. That’s odd. I don’t remember leaving the phone out there when I left the house a few hours earlier.
Pressing the button to answer the call, I heard Opal’s voice and silently groaned. Today wasn’t a good day for a chat with my mother-in-law.
“Monica, sweetie? Is that you? Opal here.”
Her voice seemed to have an extra layer of saccharine today.
“Opal. How’re you doing?”
“I’m doing just fine, sweetie. Wanted to let ya know—I think Naomi has had her fill of me for a while. So I’m headin’ back to the island in the morning. Are you and Adam free for dinner Saturday evening? I’ll cook up a nice seafood gumbo for all of us. How would that be?”
Oh, Lord—just what I didn’t need at the moment. Opal coming back from Charleston for one of her indefinite stays on Cedar Key.
Putting aside my annoyance, I said, “That’s nice, Opal, but I’m not sure what our plans are for the weekend. Adam is still at school with some activity. But I’ll let him know and he can call you tomorrow evening, okay?”
“That would be nice, sugar. Now, I know I say this to you every time, but I’m not sure how long I’ll be in town. But no matter. We’ll see a lot of each other while I’m there. Now, you give my Adam a kiss from me and I’ll call you when I get there tomorrow evenin’.”
Disconnecting the line, I plunked into the patio chair and let out a deep sigh. All of a sudden there seemed to be a black cloud floating above me. Oh, don’t get me wrong—I love Opal. I really do. But I can only put up with her sweetness and Southern belle demeanor in limited doses. I don’t feel guilty about this, because Adam’s sister Naomi admitted to me that yes, she loved her mama dearly—however, she too had to set limits with Opal staying with her. Believe me, more than once I thanked God that at least here on Cedar Key Opal had her own little cottage and didn’t actually live in with us. Miss Opal, as the locals called her, was Miss Key Lime Pie of 1960 here on the island, and you’d think to God that now that she was pushing seventy, she’d put aside her vanity and just age gracefully. But oh no, not Opal.
“Honey, I’m home,” I heard Adam call from inside the house. All of a sudden I didn’t even have the strength to get up.
“Out here,” I hollered.
“Hey, beautiful. Dinner smells great.”
Spying my glass of wine on the table, he leaned over to touch my lips with his and said, “Good idea. I’ll join you in a glass before dinner.”
Returning with his wineglass, he sat beside me and massaged my thigh in a comforting gesture.
“Everything all right?” he questioned.
I took a gulp of wine and shrugged. “That depends what you mean by all right. There seems to be a lot going on. Your mother called and she’s on her way back down here tomorrow. Wants to cook us a gumbo dinner Saturday evening. But other than that…”
Adam put his glass on the table, stood up and reached for my hands, pulling me into his arms.
“I’m sorry. All of a sudden it seems like our little love nest is being invaded, and it’s all due to my family.”
I felt his hand stroking my back and looked up into his handsome face. His lips caught mine and for a few brief moments I forgot about everything except Adam.
“Hey,” I said, playfully pushing away. “You keep this up and that wonderful dinner won’t make it to the table.”
“Come on. I’ll help you get it together.”
He took my hand as we walked inside.
During dinner we managed to find a million other things to talk about except Clarissa Jo.
After we cleaned up and filled the dishwasher, I took his hand and led him to the great room.
“Okay, we’ve stalled long enough,” I told him. “Let’s discuss what we’re going to do.”
He patted the spot next to him on the sofa. “Come on. Sit next to me.”
I curled up in the crook of his arm and for a few moments luxuriated in the intimacy we had together. Then it slid across my mind that these moments might be few and far between with a child sharing our home.
As if knowing my thoughts, he said, “I know we didn’t plan for this to happen. Hell, we never really decided for sure if we even wanted a child of our own. So I know how difficult this is for you, Monica. I do. I wish to God that I’d gotten custody four years ago when the divorce took place.”
“Well, Carrie Sue had to have her way. You told me she really had no motherly instincts. The only reason she wanted to hang on to Clarissa was because she knew how much you wanted her. It sure didn’t have a thing to do with love.”
“Right. It just would have made it so much easier if I’d gotten Clarissa Jo at four years old. I would have hired a nanny during the day while I was at work and at least she would have been in a stable environment. The poor kid has been dragged all over Georgia with Carrie Sue. She never could stay in one place very long. And it kills me to think my daughter is now with some strangers. I’ve heard horror stories about foster care.”
Christ, Monica—you really are a piece of work. Here I am concerned about the role I’ll be taking on, and God knows what that little girl might be going through.
I squeezed his hand and sat up to look at him. “Well, hey, handsome, maybe we didn’t plan to have this happen, but Clarissa Jo’s your daughter. Our home will be her home, and we’ll get through all of it together.” I only wished I had more confidence in my mothering abilities but was grateful my voice sounded sure and strong.
The glow that filled Adam’s face made me feel even more ashamed. I’m sure he spent the entire day being torn up about the situation.
He leaned over and kissed me. “It won’t be easy. I know that. She’ll be in school until May, and then I’ll be off work all summer. I don’t expect you to give up the yarn shop or anything else you might want to do.”
I hadn’t even thought about that. My entire life was about to do a one-eighty.
“So I’ll call social services tomorrow and tell them I’ll be up there for the hearing on Monday. I spoke to the school and
told them what was going on. They’ve arranged for a substitute for next week and given me the time off.”
Leave it to Cedar Key, I thought. Family was everything on this little island. I don’t mean that in a derogatory way. It’s just that I wasn’t surprised that the school would help out in any way they could. Being an only child and growing up without any relatives to speak of except my parents, I had been taken aback when I first came to the island. Each family had tons of aunts, uncles, cousins, and relatives twice removed. And while they might not all like each other, it was obvious that a very strong familial bond existed and they fiercely stuck by one another. That was proven to my mother and me when the town found out that we were Sybile’s daughter and granddaughter. They welcomed us with open arms because, well—we were technically family.
“Okay,” I said, leaning over to kiss Adam’s cheek. “So what do I need to do? Shop for toys? Clothes for her? We’ll give her the guest room, right? Should we…”
Adam put his index finger to my lips. “Shh! You don’t need to stress about this. I’m not even sure she’ll be coming back with me next week—it might take longer, with paperwork and everything. I guess I’ll know more tomorrow when I call them. As for toys and clothes, we’ll go into Gainesville together and let her pick out what she’d like. Monica…are you sure you’re okay with all of this?”
I looked into his handsome face and saw the concern that covered it. But beyond the concern, I saw his deep love for me, and I knew that had his reaction to this situation been any different, he wouldn’t have been the man I fell in love with.
“I’m okay with it, and we’ll work it out together. I love you, Adam.”
His arms tightened around my waist.
Adam was on the phone with social services making arrangements to be at the hearing on Monday and I was scurrying around the house trying to get ready to open the yarn shop at ten. Aunt Dora and I took turns opening.
“Everything okay?” Adam asked as he watched me run from the great room into the bedroom and back to the kitchen.
“I can’t find the blue sweater that I wore yesterday. Have you seen it?”
Adam shook his head. “No. Where’d you put it when you got home yesterday?”
“Where I always do—on the hall tree by the front door. But it’s not there,” I told him, exasperation coloring my words. “What did social services say?”
“The hearing is set for eleven Monday morning. They feel certain that the judge will grant me full legal custody, based on the emergency situation. The divorce papers stated that if anything should happen to Carrie Sue, custody would revert to me.”
I nodded as I walked back to the great room to resume my search for the sweater.
“When do you think you’ll be back?” I called over my shoulder.
“I’m going to book the Best Western in Macon for a few nights. That’s just a short drive to where the hearing is. I’ll drive up on Sunday, go to the hearing Monday, and the social worker said I’d be able to visit with Clarissa Jo the next day at the foster home. So we’ll probably head back here Wednesday morning.”
Annoyed that I couldn’t find that damn sweater, I plopped on the sofa. “Is there anything special I need to do?”
“Nothing I can think of, but…we do need to tell my mother. She has no clue what’s going on.”
“Oh, God, you’re right. Well, Opal is due on the island this evening and wanted to cook that gumbo for us tomorrow night. Why don’t we invite her here instead? Besides Opal, maybe we should also invite Saren and Aunt Dora.”
“Good idea. We don’t want the family finding out about Clarissa Jo from the locals.”
I glanced at the clock on the mantel and saw it was 9:30. “Well, I can’t find that sweater, so I’ll grab another one and then I need to get to the shop. Is your first class at ten?”
“Yeah, I’m going to get going too. So you do the inviting for tomorrow evening. Want me to grill some steaks?”
I nodded. “And I’ll do up a salad with cheese potatoes. Between Aunt Dora and your mother, we’ll have plenty of dessert. It’s going to be warm tomorrow, so we’ll eat out on the deck.”
I stood in the doorway watching Adam leave and continued to ponder where on earth my sweater could be.
3
Even though Grace knew about the current situation with Clarissa Jo, I invited her to dinner with the family. Heck, Grace was like family anyway. We’d met a few years before, shortly after I had decided to stay on the island. And as the young kids say, we knew immediately that we were BFF—best friends forever.
At thirty-six, she was four years older than me, and we shared many common interests like reading, knitting, and our love for the island. Grace had found her way to Cedar Key from Brunswick, Georgia, ten years before. She might have been my best friend, but from the beginning there’d been a secretiveness about her that I’d never attempted to invade. She did share with me that her parents were killed in a car crash in the south of France when she was twelve years old. They had owned an antique shop in Brunswick and had been in Europe on business. Grace had been staying with her aunt when the accident occurred, and she had an older sister who’d been away at college. Following the funeral, she remained at the aunt’s house in Brunswick to be raised by her. I always got the feeling that Grace came from a wealthy family and it was her aunt who had given her the money to relocate to Cedar Key and open her coffee shop on Dock Street. But the part I could never figure out was despite the close and loving relationship she shared with her aunt, Grace seldom went back to Brunswick to visit her. Almost daily phone calls had cemented their relationship since I’d known Grace. She seldom mentioned her sister, but it was obvious that they’d had a falling-out, because they were never in touch. Ten years later, her coffee shop was thriving and she’d become a savvy businesswoman—much like my mother’s best friend, Alison, who owned the Cedar Key B&B. I learned quickly that the women on the island were a special breed—independent and strong, and they had what was known as true grit.
Grace dated off and on but had no special man in her life, which was another thing I couldn’t figure out. Extremely attractive with a cloud of auburn curls that fell to her shoulders, she seemed oblivious to the admiring stares sent her way from many of her male customers. One thing we didn’t share was her passion for the metaphysical, but it did create some humorous moments that got me laughing.
As I was filling the dishwasher on Saturday morning, the phone rang and I answered to hear her voice.
“Anything I can bring this evening?” she asked.
“Just yourself,” I told her.
“How’re you doing? Getting more used to the idea of having a rug rat around the house?”
I laughed. “You really make it sound very enticing. After I finish cleaning up the kitchen, I’m going to get her room ready. We’re giving her the guest bedroom with the attached bath. Plus, it has a pretty view out to the garden.”
“Yeah, true—I’m sure all eight-year-olds have a garden view on their priority list.”
I realized once again how little I knew about kids. “Cripe, you’re right. She won’t care at all about what she sees out her window. God, Gracie, I’m not sure I can do this.”
“I didn’t mean to stir up your stress level again. I was only joking with you. You’ll do fine. And you can always come to Aunt Gracie for advice. I’ve never had kids either, but we’ll get through this together.”
“Thanks. I’m sure I’ll take you up on that.”
“Hey, I have some interesting news to share…. There’s a fellow that’s been dropping by the coffee shop a lot. Very good-looking and don’t laugh, but he reminds me a little of George Clooney. Sounds like a cliché, I know—but he’s tall, dark, and handsome.”
“Hmm, that is interesting. Does he live on the island?”
“No, in Gainesville, right now. Originally from New Jersey. He asked me out for dinner next week.”
“And are you going?”
“Yeah, I figured what the heck. Haven’t had a date in ages.”
“What’s he do for work?”
I heard a pause before she said, “He’s a developer.”
To the locals on the island, she might as well have said, “He’s a leper.”
“Okay, okay. I know…developers are right up there with the IRS. But he’s not looking to develop here on Cedar Key.”
“And you know this, how?”
“Well…I don’t for sure. But he’s working on some project in Gainesville. Anyway, it’s just a date.”
She was right, and maybe I was being a bit too hard on her. “Then I hope you have a good time and it goes well.”
“So you’re ready to spring the news on the family tonight? I’m sure they’ll all welcome little Clarissa Jo with open arms.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
Opal was the first to arrive. She walked into the kitchen carrying her famous key lime pie and after setting it on the counter, leaned in to give me her requisite cosmopolitan kiss on both cheeks.
With hands on my shoulders, she pulled back and said, “I do declare, marriage certainly agrees with you. Love your new bob cut, Monica. You could use a bit more blush, though.”
I laughed as I gave her a hug. Considering that Opal was known for using about an ounce too much makeup, I took her beauty tips with a grain of salt.
“Thanks for the pie,” I said, putting it into the fridge. “You’re looking pretty good yourself.”
She waved a hand in the air as she perched on the bar stool at the counter, carefully crossing her shapely legs. Opal was a fashion plate—no doubt about it. The woman had style and didn’t shy away from making people take notice. Today she was sporting a black leather skirt two inches above her knees, with black silk stockings and a mint green silk blouse that accentuated her overly bleached, chin-length blond hair.
“This is so nice to have a family gathering tonight. I love spending time with Saren and Miss Dora. Now, where is that handsome son of mine?” she questioned, looking out to the deck.