Free Miracle at the Museum of Broken Hearts by Talli Roland

There was something in my eyes – happiness, excitement – that made me look alive.
    Thank goodness I still had my work clothes from yesterday to change into. After scurrying up to Heath’s office where I’d dropped my bag, I pulled on my jeans and sweater, then tidied my curls back into a ponytail. I was just about to pat on some lip gloss when I heard the tap of the doorknocker. Had Heath forgotten his keys, I wondered as I rushed down the stairs?
    ‘ Oh.’ A yelp of surprise escaped me as I swung open the door to see Liz. What on earth was she doing here?
    ‘ Can I come in?’ Liz’s usually ef ficient and abrupt tone had disappeared, and she sounded exhausted. She looked exhausted, too, with big dark circles under her eyes and uncombed hair.
    ‘ Er . . .’ I craned my neck to look over her shoulder, desperate to spot Heath. What should I do? If I let her in, he might think I was interfering again. But the way she was looking at me – with a mixture of hope and fear – made me think this time, she really was here for her son. Could that be true, or had I reverted to La La Land again?
    I breathed a sigh of relief as I noticed Heath jogging down the street toward me, a brown bag from the Brick Lane beigel shop in his hand and a sheaf of newspapers shoved under his arm. His grin faded and his face went pinched and angry when he saw his mother.
    ‘ I thought I told you not to come here again,’ he said, when he’d reached us at the doorway. I shivered at the icy tone.
    Liz dropped her head. ‘You did. And you had every right to.’ She glanced up at him. ‘Look, can I come in? I’d love to talk to you.’
    Heath shook his head. ‘No. No, you can’t. I think you said everything the last time you were here.’
    Liz looked at him with a pleading expression, but Heath just gazed back steadily. Finally, she jammed her hands in her pockets, her shoulders slumped. ‘Okay. Could I ask you for one thing? Just one, and then I’ll go.’
    Heath was silent.
    ‘ I’d really like to have my locket back,’ she continued. ‘I never meant to leave it with Gran, you know. The clasp was faulty and it fell off one day. I searched everywhere, but I couldn’t find it. Obviously Gran came across it, and stashed it away. She must have forgotten to tell me.’
    Heath was staring at his mother with a strange expression. ‘I found the locket with a bunch of my baby things in the cellar. I thought you’d got tired of it. Kind of like me.’ His voice was hoarse.
    Liz reached out and put a hand on his arm. Heath flinched, but didn’t move away. ‘Oh, Heath. I made a lot of mistakes, but I never stopped wanting what was best for you. I thought leaving you with Gran while I worked to build a life for us was the best. Somewhere along the way, though, I lost sight of why I was doing it.’ She paused, and a tear dripped down her cheek. ‘For you.’
    Liz wiped her face , shaking her head. ‘I can understand if you don’t want to see me again. Just please, give me the locket.’
    M y heart beat fast as I awaited Heath’s words. Would he tell her to go; refuse the request? Or . . .
    I held my breath as Heath stepped closer to his mother. Then, he lifted his arms and gingerly put them around her, as if he was afraid she’d disappear. Trembling, Liz clasped him tightly, stroking his hair like he was still a tiny child.
    They stood like that, on the doorstep of the museum in the foggy London morning, as commuters rushed by and shopkeepers’ greetings rang out in the chilly air.
    And finally, I understood that real life – with all its ups and downs, complications, broken hearts , and triumphs – was a million times more satisfying than any fairy tale ever could be.
     
    THE END
     
    Author’s Note: I’d like to thank the Museum of Broken Relationships and Dennis Severs’ House for providing the inspiration for the setting of this story.
     
     
    CONTINUE READING FOR THE FIRST THREE CHAPTERS OF BUILD A MAN , TALLI’S LATEST