Page 64 of Meet Me at Christmas
Stella let her mother’s words sink in. She wished things could be different with Henry, wondered what her sister was doing without them, and longed to have Pop by her side, but she still had a lot to be grateful for.
“You know what? You’re so right.” She linked her arm in Mama’s and they made their way to the door.
Northbound I-65 was congested with holiday traffic heading into Nashville, but Mama’s presence brought a lightness to the journey. They chatted, played Christmas music, and neither mentioned any of the things weighing them down; they were determined to piece together the light. Even so, Stella wondered how her mother would react when the jeweler burst her bubble and told them the necklace wasn’t worth a thing.
They finally arrived, parked, and went inside. An air of anticipation sizzled between them—Stella could feel it.
They walked up to the counter and Stella introduced herself. “We’re here for the appraisal of a diamond necklace.” She handed over the ticket.
“Ah yes. Let me go to the back and get it.”
The man quickly returned, holding the black velvet case and a file folder. He slipped on a pair of gloves and opened the box, revealing the Christmas Diamond clean and sparkling with a radiance Stella hadn’t seen before. The jeweler slid it closer to them, the brilliance of the piece overwhelming after the cleaning. Then he opened the file.
“Our guess is that this dates back to the mid-1700s, although the inscription seems to have been done later. It looks as if it’s a family crest of some sort for what we think to be the name of Worley. The stones are all real, and the blue diamond in the center is extremely rare. We value this piece at approximately thirty-five thousand dollars.”
Stella’s mouth dropped open and she turned to her mother. “That date is in line with the story. And the article said it would be over twenty thousand.”
Mama pulled out her phone and tapped on the screen before turning it around to the jeweler. “Do you think it’s this one—the Christmas Diamond?”
He took Mama’s phone and peered at the screen, comparing the image to the diamond in front of them. “I’d say it looks very much like it could be.” He handed the phone back to her.
“Oh, my word. Itisthe real one,” Mama whispered.
Stella tried to keep herself together. The jeweler passed the box to her, and she and Mama walked out into the winter cold, although Stella barely noticed the temperature.
“What in the world?” she said, still stunned. She gave the box to Mama to hold so she could get in the car and drive them home. “We definitely need to find its owner. Someone is probably freaking out right now.”
Mama sat in the passenger seat, her bouncing knee giving away her manic energy after such a surprise. She clasped her fingers around the box as if it were going to jump out of her hands. “No one left any messages from the airport, right?”
“Right. I’ll try to call them again when we get home.”
“Good idea.” Her mother’s gaze moved to the box, her complete shock clear.
They sat in silence on the way home. Stella had no idea what to do with the necklace. Was it really bad luck? What would happen when she brought it back into their house? If only Pop were here; he’d make her feel okay.Pop, tell me what to do with this thing. Why do I have it?
No response.
One thing was certain: given its worth, there was no way she could keep it. Shehadto find the owner.
* * *
While Mama took a nap, Stella set her laptop at Pop’s desk, distracted as she tried to do some work. She opened her browser to research a few of the topics she’d jotted on her list, but her heart wasn’t in it. Everything else kept going through her mind—Henry, Lily, the diamond, and she still hadn’t found a Santa for the parade in four days’ time. Her mind was absolutely whirring.
Feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders, she opened a new email window, ready to ask Amy for an extension. She knew that with their deadlines, she wouldn’t be able to give it to her, and Steven was waiting for the article to weigh in on the promotion, but she had no time left and no idea how she was going to get it all done.
Unable to find an answer to her work conundrum, she considered her next move with Henry instead. It was definitely time to tell him. But she still wasn’t sure how she wanted to do it. Where should she start? And where would they go from there? Would he hate her for leaving and not telling him why? Stella rolled her shoulders and stretched her arms.
Needing Pop’s presence, she opened the top desk drawer and ran her fingers over the pens he always kept right at the front. She took one out and held it, the thought that his fingers had once gripped it warming her. Only a little over a year ago, she’d have found him sitting right there, holding one of those pens, balancing his checkbook or something similarly mundane. He’d had no idea when he sat there so many nights how short his life would be. She placed the pen back in the drawer, missing him terribly.
Then she caught sight of an envelope at the back. It had her name on it, and she immediately recognized her father’s handwriting. She retrieved it and flipped it over. It was sealed. What could it be? Should she wake her mother and ask if she knew anything about it? She doubted Mama knew it was there—her mother hadn’t been anywhere near Pop’s desk. If she’d have found it, she’d have said something. And it was addressed to Stella.
Carefully, she slid her finger under the flap and loosened the seal. With every movement, the knowledge that she was about to read her father’s words filled her with joy. She pulled out the single page and took a deep breath as she stared at her father’s scratchy handwriting. Steadying herself, she read the note.
My dearest Stella,
First off, I want to say I’m sorry. I know I didn’t handle my illness very well, and while I attempted to spare you all from a lengthy diagnosis and battle, I realize, in the end, I might have done more harm than good by not letting you know. If I’d have told you, you might have felt more of an immediacy to make the most of every moment, the way I’ve felt lately, which could’ve helped you after I leave. When I am gone—I know you—you’ll blame yourself for not spending more time with me. But that’s silly. You have your own life, Stella, and boy do I love to watch you live it. It’s much better than seeing you fuss over me.
I spoke to Lily, but I didn’t get to say everything to you that I wanted to say so now’s my chance.
