The Sapphire Pendant

by Dara Girard

  Michelle smiled. “Let me remind you, shall I?”

  “Shut up, Michelle,” Teresa said. “You could tell him the truth and hope he takes you anyway.”

  “He’s not supposed to take me out of pity. That’s cheating.”

  “Deborah won’t know.”

  “I’ll know. Besides, he might not take me. He might be furious and never talk to me again.”

  Michelle sighed. “Let’s take this step-by-step. First, tell Freda the truth. Once you tell her the truth, it will get easier.”

  “I hope so.” Jessie doubted it. But the truth had to come out eventually. There was no use holding onto false hope. It was just as damaging as false pride. She could write a book on it. She rested her chin in her hand.

  “Nice bracelet,” Michelle said.

  Jessie stared at her surprised. “You like it?”

  “I didn’t say I liked it. I said it was nice.”

  Teresa took her wrist and ran her fingers over the beads. “Did Kenneth give it to you?”

  Jessie shook her head. “No. Syrah.”

  “Looks expensive.”

  “I’m sure it’s not.”

  They fell silent.

  “Do you think she loved him?” Jessie asked.

  Michelle glanced at her. “Who?”

  “Gran Sonya. Do you think she took the pendant because she loved the German and not because of revenge?”

  Michelle frowned. “But that would defeat the whole purpose. You can’t fall for the man for which you vowed vengeance. She didn’t steal a lock of hair or a note scribbled in his hand. She had no desire to be sentimental. She took his most prized possession. She wanted to teach him a lesson and she did. The Sapphire Pendant is a symbol warning us of the duplicity of men.”

  “Then how did Dad end up with it?”

  “Perhaps because he had three daughters.”

  Jessie bit her nails, her voice mumbled. “I wonder if it was meant for something else.”

  “Like what?” Michelle asked.

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head then let her hand fall. “I don’t know anything right now. My mind is mush.”

  “You’ll feel better when this is all over,” Teresa said.

  Jessie raised her brows. “Over? I’ll be scrubbing Deborah’s toilets for a year.”

  Teresa gave her an impish grin. “Maybe.”

  “What do you mean by maybe?”

  She only smiled.

  * * *

  Jessie looked at Syrah as the girl slept with her head buried under the covers in the dark hush of the room. She kissed her on the cheek then went into her bedroom. She would miss her. She got dressed and climbed into bed, determined to talk to Freda tomorrow. But she ended up staring at the ceiling instead of falling asleep and changed her mind.

  Jessie grabbed her slippers, wishing she had a robe. She felt naked in Michelle’s pink silk nightdress. It whispered promises she couldn’t fulfill. She hoped that she didn’t bump into Kenneth. She grabbed a long sleeved button down shirt and put it on.

  She went to Freda’s room, which was towards the back of the house. As she walked down the hall, she saw light peeking from under the door and heard the murmur of voices from the TV.

  She knocked softly on the door.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s me. Jessie. I really want to talk to you.”

  There was a pause, slow heavy footsteps then the door swung open. Freda appeared with her head wrapped in a bright purple scarf, a large T-shirt saying ‘Dangerous’, and fluorescent green fuzzy slippers. “Okay, talk.”

  “May I come in?”

  “No.”

  She sighed. “Freda, I’m not what or who you think I am.” She threw up her hands in a hopeless gesture. She saw Freda’s frown increase and looked down to see that her shirt had opened to reveal her seductive nightdress.

  “Right,” Freda said doubtfully.

  Jessie pulled the shirt around her. “Look, this is my sister’s nightdress. Trust me. I couldn’t seduce a cat to eat tuna.”

  Freda rested her hip against the door and folded her arms, her eyes beginning to glaze over.

  “I’m not after Kenneth’s money,” Jessie said, pulling at the buttons on her shirt. She took a deep breath. “The truth is I accepted a bet to charm Kenneth to ask me to the Hampton Charity Ball. If I won, then I’d get the Sapphire Pendant which was sold to send me to college. It’s an important family heirloom. I know that means nothing to you, but please let me explain.”

  Freda nodded.

  “Most people think only humans have emotions like pain, joy or fear, but others believe all things are alive. My father was one of those people. He didn’t think things were alive as we are, but that they live in their own way. A way we cannot understand. He also believed that those who did not have an inner truth were in danger of becoming soulless. Of having their spiritual selves taken by the many forms of evil that roam the Earth.

  “The story of our family heirloom is a tale of an ancestor taking the sapphire pendant of a callous holidaymaker who left tears in his wake. Through her act she was taking part of his soul because my family believes that when you possess something it becomes a part of you. So to my family the pendant remembers and teaches us many lessons because it is something that lives and will continue to live on no matter how the world changes.

  “There are stories that my people came fully formed from the insides of a petrified tree when the God of Whispers cried because no one could hear his voice. When we came forth we honored him by using the natural treasures of the earth to speak. That’s why giving jewelry and other ornaments means so much—it speaks for the giver and receiver showing love, affection, demonstrating power or even corruption.

  “It is no accident that in our family there is always one who has an affinity with stones, metals and gems. It is so someone is always listening to the whispers carried through the wind and settled in the ground.”

  Jessie shook her head a little embarrassed. “Whether the tales are true is of no importance now. It has carried us through tribal wars and slavery so that we know we have a right to exist though others may not think so. Through our stories we will always know who we are. The Sapphire Pendant’s importance is not only its value or even the act of Gran Sonya but for its voice, its symbolism.”

  Jessie sighed unsure she had made any sense. “I know it was stupid to try and retrieve it through a bet, but at the time it seemed like the best way to get it back without spending years to save to buy it back.” She chewed her nails. “I used to hate Kenneth because— well it doesn’t matter now. But I don’t hate him anymore so... I don’t want to marry him or anything,” she said in a rush. “I don’t need his money. I know that everyone believes he’s Mr. Perfect, but he’s not—he’s vain, a workaholic and he says I have a temper.” She sniffed. “But he—”

  “Come inside and sit down,” Freda interrupted.

  Jessie halted with her mouth open then nodded. She chose a paisley couch near the window. Freda sat down on the bed and lowered the volume on the TV. She turned to Jessie with a shrewd look.

  “You really had me worried for a while. I’m usually not a bad judge of character, but now I’m sure you’re okay. So what are you going to do now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you’re in love with the man, what are you going to do about it?”

  Jessie waved her hands, heat burning her cheeks. “It’s just lust. I don’t know him well enough to love him.”

  “It just might do you good to believe your father’s stories. So they will give you courage.”

  Jessie frowned. “I have courage.”

  “Just not enough to love.” Freda shook her head and stood. “I’m too old for this. Do what you will.” She pushed Jessie out of the room. “Now go away so I can sleep.”

  Jessie began to speak, but the door closed in her face.

  She stared at it for a few moments then turned. Did she have a sign on her forehe
ad: I’M IN LOVE WITH KENNETH PRESTON? It was horrible. Didn’t her heart know better? She had been down this road before. Was she a complete masochist?

  Jessie ripped off her shirt and crumpled it up. Damn it, she would not make a fool of herself again. She refused. She fought the urge to stomp down the hallway like a spoiled child. The very idea was ludicrous. They were friends, for however long that would be, then it would end.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Freda’s door. It was lust, it had to be. Sure she wanted to be married someday, but not to him. She just wanted sex. Who could blame her? He was like a set of keys to a woman locked in prison. Falling in love was for romantics; she was a realist. She wanted his body—that’s all—no matter how ashamed her mother might have been. She turned and crashed into what she at first thought was a wall.

  She took a step back and her heel caught on the hem of her nightdress. She fell back landing on her bottom with a thud.

  “Are you all right?” Kenneth asked, flipping on the lights.

  She narrowed her eyes against the glare. “I’m fine.” She stood, rubbing her sore behind.

  “I thought I heard someone sneaking round down here.”

  “I wasn’t sneaking,” she muttered resentfully.

  Kenneth’s eyes trailed the length of her nightdress. “Oh, I guess you lost your way. My room is upstairs.”

  She gasped and grabbed her shirt.

  Kenneth snatched it from her. “No, don’t put that on, it will ruin the effect.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “What for? You look good.” He licked his lower lip, his eyes resting on her cleavage. “Yum.”

  Jessie folded her arms. “Stop that. I look ridiculous.” She glanced down at herself. “It’s too long. Too tight in some places and too loose in others.” She frowned at his green long sleeve pajamas. So much for Teresa’s boxer shorts scenario. “How come you never wear short sleeves?”

  Kenneth furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s summer time and you’re wearing that.” She gestured to his pajamas. “Even when you were younger you always wore long sleeves.” It used to drive the neighborhood kids crazy seeing him in a buttoned up shirt when the day was hot enough to melt coal. They used to joke that he probably swam in a suit.

  His finger trailed a sensuous path along the scooped neck of her nightdress. “But we’re not talking about me right now.”

  She seized his hand, feeling her body grow warm. “Don’t do that.”

  He rested his other hand on her shoulder, his teasing tone gone. “Are you feeling better?”

  She lowered her gaze, embarrassed. “Much.”

  “No more tears?”

  “Sorry about that. I-”

  He placed a finger against her lips. “I believe you once told me not to apologize for being human. I was glad to be there. ”

  She met his eyes. “I’ll be there for you too if—” She couldn’t finish.

  He handed her the shirt and stared at her for a moment, his dark eyes calling out to something deep within her. “Good night.”

  Jessie touched his arm as he turned. “I have a few minutes if you want to talk.”

  He laughed. “You wear something that good and you think I want to talk?”

  She slipped into her shirt. If he didn’t want to talk, she wouldn’t force him.

  “Good night,” he repeated.

  “’Night.” She watched him disappear into the darkness, taking all his secrets with him. She couldn’t blame him. Didn’t she have her own secrets she had no wish to share? They were alike in that respect. They each asked for trust without offering any.

  She reached for the light switch. Kenneth unexpectedly appeared out of the darkness like an apparition. He grabbed her hand and led her towards the back door. He opened a closet and handed her his shoes and a long coat.

  “Put these on,” he said.

  She slipped into his oversized shoes and wrapped his coat around her. She inhaled its musky scent. It was as intimate as being in his arms.

  He opened the door and took her hand. “Come on.”

  The moon was bright enough to light their path, but Kenneth still used a flashlight to guide their way through the trees. Jessie didn’t ask him where he was taking her, not wanting to disturb or analyze his strange mood. She would rather enjoy the warm summer night, the sound of old leaves crunching beneath their feet, crickets singing merrily, and the moonlight painting their way.

  He finally shone his flashlight on a little cottage. He unlocked the front door and turned on the lights.

  Inside revealed a furnished room that had light cream colored chairs, gleaming hardwood floors that were softened by an area rug and a bed overstuffed with pillows.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful,” Jessie said, eyeing the bed with special interest.

  Kenneth grinned, reading her expression. “You can go ahead.”

  She turned to him. “What?”

  He folded his arms. “You still like jumping on beds, don’t you?”

  She shifted uncomfortable. “It’s a silly habit.”

  “So? I keep peanuts in my pocket.”

  “You’re right.” She kicked off her shoes and leaped on the bed, landing face down. It was like falling into feathers. “Oh this is heaven,” she mumbled, sinking her head into the mixture of silk and cotton pillows. “I’m sure you put this bed to good use.” She regretted her words once they left her mouth. She wasn’t sure whether to apologize or let it pass. Her uneasiness grew as a cold silence followed her remark. She turned to him, expecting to find him glaring at her with hard eyes, but instead he was fingering a small sculpture of a person reading.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to judge.”

  “It’s been my experience that people who say that, usually do.”

  Jessie sat up and straightened the pillows. “I wish at times I could cut out my tongue.”

  Kenneth slanted her a glance. “Vex me enough and I might do it for you.”

  She smiled relaxing at his light tone. “You’re a true friend.”

  He turned off the lights. “Sometimes I sit out here to think alone with my trees,” he said in a quiet voice. “Lay on your back, I want to show you something.”

  He laid down next to her then hit a button on the side table. Suddenly, the ceiling began to open, displaying the starry sky and a bright moon that looked low enough to touch. Jessie stared speechless.

  “The night’s not black enough,” Kenneth said. “On some nights you can see which stars twinkle and which don’t.”

  “Stars really twinkle?”

  “Haven’t you ever looked up at the stars before?”

  She rested her hands behind her head. “Not like this. It’s beautiful.”

  “Yes.” He paused. “You know stars help us know the location of satellites. See satellites…”

  She nudged him with her foot. “Don’t ruin this moment by talking about satellites.”

  “Sorry.” He was silent then said, “One day I’m going to buy a book on astrology and figure out what I’m looking at.”

  “I’ll buy it for you.”

  He turned to her the moonlight reflecting the surprise on his face. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jas.”

  She frowned. “I’m not being ridiculous.”

  “I can afford to buy myself a simple book.”

  “It’s not about whether you can afford it, I just wanted to—” She searched for words.

  “To what?”

  “To give you a gift.”

  “Why?”

  The man was infuriating. Why should she have to explain why she wanted to give him a gift? It was something people did. Jessie slid off the bed. “Don’t worry the feeling has just left me.”

  He grabbed her nightdress. “Where do you think you’re going, hothead?”

  She spun around. “Hothead?”

  “I thought you said you had time to talk.”

  She slapped his hand away
. “I’m through talking with you.”

  He pulled on her nightdress until she was forced to sit. “I’m not.” He held her to him. “I’m sorry I brought up your father.”

  “It’s okay. I shouldn’t be sad. We had one of the largest “home coming” parties in the community. I am happy for them.”

  “It’s okay to miss them too.”

  “They wouldn’t want me to feel sad. They would be disappointed.” Jessie sighed. But then again that would be nothing new.

  “I had a grandmother who died a few years back. Her funeral was very somber, she came from somber people.”

  “Methodist?” she teased.

  He smiled. “Yes. I had to force myself to cry. Everyone was so impressed by her weeping grandson, but inside I felt ashamed.”

  “That you couldn’t cry?”

  His voice fell. “No, that I hated her.”

  She looked at him startled. She couldn’t imagine him hating anyone.

  “But that was a long time ago,” he said, leaving no room for questions. “When I’m here the past and future cease to exist. All there is, is now. I glance up at the sky and see all the possibilities.” He fell quiet then said, “If you could have anything, what would it be?”

  “The Sapphire Pendant,” she said without thinking.

  “That sounds familiar.”

  “Dad talked about it enough. Every time I feel a warm summer breeze and look up at the sky I think about it. Especially on nights like this. The pendant is a family heirloom. Mrs. Ashford has it now.”

  “The one your father sold?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.”

  “What would you want?” Jessie asked before they both sank into melancholy thoughts.

  Kenneth was quiet for so long she wasn’t sure he would answer. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Why not?”

  He shook his head.

  “Let me guess then. You already have a great job, an enviable position in the community, respect, a loving if not somewhat selfish family, money, women who adore you. No, I can’t figure it out but...” She lifted his hand and kissed his palm then closed his fingers. “There.”

  “What was that?”

  “Whatever you want it to be.”

  He gazed down at his hand. “That was sweet.”