Casting About by Terri Dulong

Adam told her.
    I let my mind trail off and recalled the incident that had occurred just before we’d left the house. I’d been brushing my hair in the bedroom when something shiny caught my eye on the bureau. I glanced down to see a butterfly brooch. Sybile had given it to me and I always kept it deep inside my jewelry box. Picking it up in my hand, I couldn’t figure out why on earth it was on top of the bureau. I hadn’t worn it in months.
    When I questioned Adam, he had no idea how it had gotten out of my jewelry box. I replaced it, but thought of my blue sweater that had ended up in Clarissa’s room. And added to that was when Clarissa told me the lady had told her about taking a boat to Atsena Otie. When I had questioned her later about who this lady was, she’d just shrugged and had given me no answer.
    â€œHere we are,” I heard Adam say, breaking into my thoughts.
    A large and well-maintained farmhouse sat at the end of a long driveway.
    Adam pulled up in front and had barely cut the ignition before Clarissa had unfastened her seat belt and flung open her door.
    I looked at Adam and laughed. “Think she’s excited?”
    A middle-aged woman opened the front door and greeted us from the wraparound porch.
    â€œYou must be the Brooks family,” she said.
    Adam and I walked toward her with Clarissa leading the way.
    â€œIt’s nice to meet you,” he told the woman. “This is my wife, Monica, and my daughter, Clarissa Jo.”
    â€œAh, and you’re the one that will be choosing a puppy,” she said, sending a warm smile to Clarissa.
    â€œYes, and I’m so excited.”
    The woman laughed. “Then follow me out back. That’s where the kennel is.”
    A white clapboard building stood in back of the house. When she opened the door a buff-colored cocker spaniel greeted us.
    â€œThis here is Sally. She’s the mama dog.”
    Clarissa put her hand out for the dog to sniff and then bent down to stroke the cream fur.
    â€œAnd over here, these are Sally’s babies.”
    We walked over to see four balls of fur tumbling and playing.
    â€œThey’re eight weeks old?” I asked.
    â€œYup, they were born April nineteenth.”
    Clarissa shot a look in my direction, and I wondered if she realized that was the date she’d come to live with Adam and me.
    â€œThey sure are cute,” Adam said, bending down to pat them.
    Clarissa sat on the cement floor and let all four puppies crawl over her. Their wet tongues kissing her face brought forth giggles. This was such a foreign sound coming from her that I smiled and wondered if perhaps Adam had been right after all.
    After a few minutes, she said, “This one. This is the one I want.”
    She had chosen a buff and white puppy that strongly resembled a lamb.
    â€œAnd I’m going to name it Billie.”
    I felt a shiver go through me. Billie? That was my pet nickname for Sybile. There’s no way this child could have known that.
    â€œWell, now,” I heard Adam say. “It might not be a boy dog.”
    The woman laughed. “No, I’m afraid that’s a girl puppy,” she said.
    Clarissa stood up, cuddling the small ball of fur. “That’s okay. This is the one I want. Yes,” she said with determination. “If you spell the name with a y, then it’s a boy’s name. But Billie can be a girl’s name too.”
    â€œYou’re very right,” Adam told her. “So are you sure this is the pup you want?”
    One look at the child and the puppy and anybody could tell it was. The dog had nestled its small head under Clarissa’s chin and the look on Clarissa’s face was one of pure bliss.
    I was still shaken by her choice of a name for the dog and could only stand there mute while Adam produced the checkbook and paid the purchase price.
    The woman went on to tell us about food and assorted other things, much of which I