Casting About by Terri Dulong Page A

room. What was that noise? I realized it seemed to be coming from Clarissa’s room.
    Tiptoeing down the hallway, I stood in front of her door listening.
    It was sobbing. That’s what it was. She was crying.
    Oh God, what should I do? Wake Adam? Go in and see what’s wrong?
    I stood there a few more minutes and the sound began to diminish. Deciding to leave her alone, I headed back to my bedroom. Climbing into bed, I lay on my side snuggling into Adam’s warm body and prayed everything would get easier.

7
    A dam was still sleeping soundly at seven-thirty when I opened my eyes. He’d had a grueling week and I wanted him to sleep in. Tiptoeing quietly out of the bedroom, I was surprised to find Clarissa Jo sitting on the sofa in the great room—that Raggedy Ann doll still clutched in her arms.
    I’m slow to wake up in the morning. One of those people who doesn’t utter a word until I’ve had my first cup of coffee. But I forced a smile to my face and made the supreme effort to be friendly.
    â€œYou’re up early. Did you sleep well?”
    Clarissa glanced up briefly and then continued kneading the doll’s hair between her fingers.
    â€œI guess.”
    That seemed to be her pat answer for everything. What was it with kids today? Was that all they could do was guess? Didn’t they have strong feelings about anything?
    â€œYour dad’s still sleeping,” I told her as I walked into the kitchen to prepare the coffee. “What would you like for breakfast?”
    I prayed she wouldn’t request some kid food that I wasn’t familiar with.
    â€œCereal,” was the response I got.
    Cereal I could deal with. I began pulling boxes out of the cabinet as Clarissa wandered into the kitchen.
    â€œWe have plenty of that,” I told her, lining up boxes of Kashi, Special K, granola, and raisin bran.
    When she stood staring at the boxes, I knew I was in trouble again.
    â€œSomething wrong?”
    â€œI like Froot Loops or Cap’n Crunch.”
    Ah, that stuff loaded with sugar that made dentists rich. I blew out a puff of air. Shit, I hadn’t even had my first sip of coffee yet and glared at the coffeemaker, urging it to drip faster.
    â€œHmm, well…we don’t have that cereal in the house. How about some eggs? Or French toast?”
    Clarissa shook her head. “I like pancakes.”
    I could do pancakes. “Okay,” I told her and saw the carafe had filled with that welcoming brown liquid. Grabbing a mug, I gratefully poured myself some coffee. After taking a sip, I said, “Pancakes it is. Give me a few minutes to get it ready.”
    Clarissa climbed onto the stool at the counter. With chin in her hands she proceeded to watch my movements. I wasn’t used to an audience while I prepared food. As I whipped up the batter and heated the griddle, I felt like I should be conversing with her, but I had no clue what to talk about. Being with this mute eight-year-old wasn’t only awkward, it was unpleasant.
    After I placed the pancakes in front of her, I picked up my mug of coffee only to find it had grown cold. I added more to the mug to heat it and told Clarissa I was going outside to get the newspaper.
    Stooping down to pick up the Gainesville Sun, I noticed Tilly Carpenter in her yard pruning her rosebushes.
    â€œGood morning, Miss Tilly,” I called over.
    â€œMornin’,” she said and resumed her cutting.
    She’d been Adam’s neighbor since he’d moved in, but seldom spoke more than a few words to us. This was unusual for a Cedar Key resident. Normally, bumping into somebody was cause for a thirty-minute conversation about anything and everything. People were just naturally friendly on the island. But Adam had told me that Miss Tilly had had a tragedy involving her husband and young son about forty years ago, and since she’d retired as art teacher at the school a few years before, she’d been