I sat on the edge of the mattress and pulled the small dresser drawer toward me until the old pine wood squeaked. My mother’s velvet jewelry box sat under a stack of winter scarves, its blue fabric worn down to the grey thread at the corners.
I lifted the small lid and took out the pearl earrings, holding them in my open palm. They were small, slightly yellowed by thirty years of storage, and one of the silver backs was loose.
I held them up next to my ears, wondering if they looked too old-fashioned for a fancy restaurant. I reached for the small mirror on the wall, but my hand stopped before I could lift it.
The sound of the television downstairs hummed through the floorboards, a quiet drone of afternoon news. I looked at the little pearls, remembering how my mother only wore them on Sundays or when my father took her to the county fair.
Damon came down the hallway, his footsteps heavy on the floorboards, and stopped by the bedroom door frame. He adjusted his shirt collar, his eyes moving from my face down to my hands.
“Are we wearing the family heirlooms now?” he asked.
“I was just looking at them,” I said, my voice trailing off as I went to put them back in the box.
“Good,” he said, turning back toward the stairs. “We wouldn’t want you looking like you’re trying too hard at your age.”
“They were my mother’s,” I said.
“I know whose they were,” he said, his voice carrying back from the stairwell. “I’m just saying, let’s keep things simple.”
He laughed, the quick, dry sound he always made when he was teasing, but I kept my hand on the velvet lid until I heard him reach the kitchen. I decided right then that I would leave them in the drawer.
Wearing an Emerald Green Dress on My Birthday Cost Me My Husband part 1
Wearing an Emerald Green Dress on My Birthday Cost Me My Husband 0/2
My Husband Tried to Drag Me From a Hospital Bed After My Crash PART 2
My Husband Tried to Drag Me From a Hospital Bed After My Crash PART 1
My Husband Tried to Drag Me From a Hospital Bed After My Crash 0/2
