Free Casting About by Terri Dulong Page B

don’t want you discussing that with Clarissa. Understand? No matter what kind of mother she was—she is her mother.”
    Regaining her composure, Opal nodded. “Yes, okay. I understand.”
    Raising her fingers, she moved them quickly across her pursed lips.
    â€œOpal, how about some sweet tea?” I asked, trying to break the tension.
    â€œThat would be lovely,” she murmured.
    Â 
    The rest of the evening passed in a calm manner. Everyone in the family welcomed Clarissa Jo. Aunt Dora talked to her about books and games her own grandchildren had liked when they were little, but it was Saren who seemed to make the biggest impression on her.
    â€œYup,” I heard him say. “I think you’re gonna like livin’ on this here island. Ever done any crabbin’?” he asked her.
    Clarissa’s gaze was glued to Saren’s face. She shook her head with interest.
    â€œWell, then, we’ll just have to do that, won’t we? I’ll teach you how.”
    I actually saw a smile cross the child’s face. This was the most animation I’d seen from her since she’d arrived.
    I got up to head to the kitchen and bring out the desserts.
    â€œShe’s delightful,” Dora said, following me inside. “She reminds me a bit of my Marin when she was that age.”
    â€œOh,” was all I said. “Would you mind taking this out for me? I’m going to run to the bathroom.”
    Just as I walked back into the kitchen I heard a crash on the deck.
    Running to the door, I saw Clarissa Jo standing there, with Sybile’s beautiful glass bowl smashed to pieces at her feet. My carefully prepared fruit salad lay splattered, creating a still life of watermelon, pears, oranges, apples, bananas, and grapes.
    â€œWhat the hell!” I screamed. Rushing forward, I yanked Clarissa back, away from the broken glass and fruit.
    â€œIt was an accident,” Adam said, jumping up from his chair.
    â€œAn accident? What the hell was she doing carrying that out here anyway? That was my favorite bowl from Sybile.” I bent down to start picking up glass and felt Adam’s hand grip my wrist.
    â€œDon’t,” he said. “You’ll cut yourself.”
    Somebody had produced a roll of paper towels, along with a broom and dustpan.
    I stood up and blew out a stream of exasperated air while I let Adam do the cleanup. It was then that I noticed Clarissa Jo had run into the house and our guests sat staring at me.
    â€œWell, for Christ sake,” I said, frustration lacing my words. “She shouldn’t have been carrying that bowl out here.”
    Grace was the first to speak.
    â€œShe didn’t drop it on purpose, Monica.”
    Oh, sure—stick up for the kid, I thought.
    â€œWhatever,” I snapped and returned inside to prepare coffee.
    A few minutes later, I felt Adam’s arms encircling me from behind.
    â€œGrace was right,” he said softly. “She didn’t mean to do that.”
    A nasty thought crossed my mind. Are you so sure of that? I wondered. Clarissa knew that bowl meant a lot to me.
    â€œOkay. Let’s forget it,” was what I mumbled.
    I managed to get through the rest of the evening. Adam had gone in to talk to Clarissa and a little while later she emerged from her bedroom.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she said, without much conviction.
    â€œIt’s okay,” I told her, with the same lack of emotion.

10
    B y the time the following Saturday rolled around, I was more than happy for a break in the routine of the previous week.
    Clarissa began school on Monday. I managed to be up with one cup of coffee ingested by the time Clarissa got up at seven. We then played the breakfast game. Did she want cereal, eggs, pancakes? And each morning, I got the same answer of “I don’t care.”
    I swear it crossed my mind to prepare eggs Benedict, something I was certain she’d turn her nose up at.