“Why do you care? It was a gift.”
“From the man who’s coming over today?”
“Exactly,” Anna said, sticking to the story.
Mike looked at her with concern. “Be careful with men who give gifts like that. Nobody hands over something that valuable without expecting something in return.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Anna said. “Now please go.”
His sudden concern was starting to irritate her. The last thing she wanted was his involvement in her personal life. Why on earth would she tell him where the locket had really come from?
Mike said nothing more. In the hallway he slowly put on his jacket and shoes, then left with a quiet, “Take care of yourself.” Anna let out a theatrical sigh after the door closed.
In truth, his visit had unsettled her more than she wanted to admit. She sat at the kitchen table for a long time afterward, drinking cold tea and looking at the roses. For a moment she wanted to cry again. But she stopped herself. No more tears over Mike. He was nobody to her now.
Later her son-in-law called, then Polly, then old friends and coworkers. Everyone wished her a happy holiday. She returned the greetings warmly. She hadn’t expected her phone to be so busy.
After lunch she set out cheese, sausage, and a few other treats from the day before. She opened the champagne and settled in front of the TV with old movies.
For a while, her mood genuinely improved. But every so often her eyes drifted back to the locket. And with it came the same restless questions.
No, she decided. Not today. Today she would leave the past alone. Later, after the long weekend, she took the locket to a pawn shop.
She chose one that online reviews said had a knowledgeable appraiser who specialized in antique jewelry. “Interesting piece,” the older man behind the counter said, studying it through a loupe. Then he looked up at her with open curiosity.
“Where did you get this, ma’am?”
“Family inheritance,” Anna said smoothly.
“And you have paperwork for it?”
“Yes,” she lied again without blinking. “I’m not looking to sell. I just want to know what it might be worth, and maybe where it was made.”
The appraiser turned the locket over in his dry hands and opened it. He glanced at the photos inside, then looked at Anna again.
“I can’t give you an exact value right now. The engraving was added later, which lowers the value somewhat. But it’s still a rare and interesting piece. If you leave it with me, I can research it more thoroughly.”
Something in his tone put her on edge. She shook her head. “No, thank you. It’s a family keepsake. I just wanted to know whether it was real.”
“Well,” he said, “it’s certainly not costume jewelry.”
Anna thanked him and left, but she walked out with a sticky feeling of unease. All day at work she couldn’t shake it.
She kept seeing the old man’s face, hearing his dry voice: “Where did you get this, ma’am?” The moment she got home that evening, she hid the locket back inside the rug.
She carefully sewed the torn pocket shut and shoved the heavy rug back into the closet. Let it stay there for now, she thought. Better safe than sorry.
But the questions about her father wouldn’t leave her alone. Maybe—just maybe—someone in the family knew something. Then she remembered Aunt Lucy, who lived out in the country.
Lucy had been Natalie’s cousin, and in their younger years the two had been close. Back then Lucy had lived in town and trained as a cook. Later she moved back home, married well enough, and spent her life working in the local diner attached to the farming co-op.
As far as Anna knew, she was still alive. In big families, bad news tends to travel fast. Silence usually means people are still around…
