The Underside of Joy

are people who not only show up, but work harder and longer than humanly possible. Who even bring food! Who babysit! I know I didn’t grow up here in Elbow. But I hope you consider me one of yours. Because I sure do. Here’s to you, Elbow, California. Here’s to Grandma Rosemary and Grandpa Sergio, who planted the seeds, Marcella and Joe Sr, who nourished with their blood, sweat, and tears. And finally, to Joe, who loved picnicking, loved this place, loved all of you. Thank you.’ We hung his apron and the photo of Joe, his dad, and his grandfather, and toasted to the great success of Life’s a Picnic.
    Walking home, with the kids’ hands in mine, I felt both giddy and bone tired. Everyone – with the exception of Ray Longobardi – had raved about the food, the store, the map, and how this was going to boost business for the restaurants, the canoe and kayak rentals, and the Elbow Inn. The only disappointment had been the lack of any press coverage, but I realized opening a picnic store wasn’t page-one news. Just then a young, slightly overweight man bustled towards us. He wore slacks and skater shoes, a windbreaker. ‘Ella? Ella Beene?’ he asked.
    He had reporter written all over him. Finally! ‘Yes, that’s me. And yes, I am the owner, or I should say, one of the owners. But the original idea came to me when I –’
    ‘So you’re Ella Beene? I need to give you these.’ He unzipped his windbreaker and pulled out a manila envelope. ‘Sorry. It’s just my job,’ he said, in an awkward attempt to sound friendly. He turned and jiggled back across the street, crouched into his Hyundai, and drove off.
    I stared at the envelope. It had my name handwritten on it, with my address and the address of the store, nothing else. I knew what it was.
    Annie tugged on my arm. ‘Mommy? Was that the man with the news?’

Chapter Fifteen
    I settled the kids into bed and fired up the woodstove. I plopped down on the couch, braced my feet on the trunk, told myself the envelope held something other than what I feared most.
    Maybe just another loose end of Joe’s, more financial bad news. Let it be that. I can deal with that. The tirade I had in the garden when I’d first realized how deep the money problems ran seemed silly now. I considered not opening the envelope, set it down, picked it back up. The fire popped and I jumped. Taking a deep breath, I pulled out the papers and began reading the petitioner’s, Paige Capozzi’s, declaration:

    I am the mother of two children, Annie Capozzi, age six, and Zach Capozzi, age three. Their father, Joseph Capozzi, was recently killed in a drowning accident. I am asking that the children be allowed to live with me, their mother, and that full custody be granted to me.
    And why in the hell do you think anyone would let that happen? Why you? The whole town of Elbow knows Annie and Zach better than you do.

    I suffered severe postpartum depression after the births of both of my children. When Zach was an infant, I became unable to function as a mother, and, although it was extremely painful for me, I felt it was in the best interest of my children to leave them in the care of their father in order for me to get the medical and psychological treatment I desperately needed.
    My condition was temporary, but months later, when I attempted to resume contact with my children and their father, I was ignored. I wrote numerous letters, both to the children and to the father, but only the first few were answered.
    Letters? Right, lady. You abandoned your children and your husband because you had a little case of the baby blues? And now you’re so desperate, you’re willing to lie?

    I was recovering from illness and did not fully understand my rights with respect to custody, nor did I have the financial means or physical and mental stamina to fight the father for custody when he asked for a divorce. I concentrated on rebuilding my life with the intention of eventually reclaiming my right as the children’s mother. I have become a successful home stager. My job is lucrative, my schedule flexible. I have an office set up in my home and so am in the position to provide financially and emotionally for Annie and Zach. Although their stepmother has done an adequate job as a caregiver, Annie and Zach are suffering the loss of their father and need to be with their only living parent. I can give them the depth of love and support that only a real mother is capable of.
    Oh, do not even get