Free Absorbed by Penelope Crowe Page B

How nice.” And he threw it against the wall. And then he left.
    “What did I do wrong now?” I thought. “What do I keep doing to make him so mad?”
    I looked out the window for a while and told myself I would call him later and apologize for whatever I had done. I couldn’t believe I hit him. He would forgive me. I hoped. Because it was true—when he wasn’t mad at me, things were so much more fun when he was around.
    The sun was setting and shining unusual red lines of color through my porch. A glint in the corner of the room caught my eye, and I remembered my gift. The box was a bit dented and the ribbon was slightly askew, but otherwise it looked intact. I opened the filigree envelope and read the card. The same dark script that wrote my name spelled the words “Her lady’s piece.” No signature, nothing else. One thing was for sure, it was not from Mick. But this was thrilling. I had chills and felt part of a mystery, or like a character in a book.
    I pulled at a corner of the ribbon, and the bow fell away. The blue leather packaging unfolded to reveal an ornate gold jewelry box, the perfect size and shape to hold a necklace. Although it had the feel of an older piece, its condition was perfect. The baroque etchings on the top of the box showed a woman with a necklace admiring herself in the mirror. Surrounding her was beautiful scrollwork and etchings of dozens of men, and between them, jewels. “If the present is anything like the wrapping, I’m going to like this,” I thought.
    As I lifted the box from its former leather home, I noticed a key on ribbon on the bottom of the package. The ribbon’s color matched the dark red rays of sun in my house. I did not ever recall a sunset in blood-red.
    The golden key fit perfectly in the slot at the front of the box, and turned with a click. The lid opened slowly, and an internal music box twinkled a beautiful but sad song. Sitting on lush blue velvet that matched the outside leather, was a necklace. Although it was not 35-karats, or even diamond, the necklace was a work of art. At the end of a large-link, gold chain sat a tear-shaped ruby, surrounded by a thick, gold setting. Each round ¼ link of the chain was decorated in an unusual but beautiful design, and the clarity of the ruby made the gem seem to glow. The necklace seemed familiar. Had I seen it in the window in Cartier as I strolled by one day? Had I mentioned to someone I liked it?
    I lifted the necklace from its home and clasped it around my neck. I looked at myself in the mirror above my fireplace. The ruby glimmered against my white skin, and contrasted my almost-black hair beautifully. It wasn’t just the gift that was fit for royalty; I looked like a princess. The piece felt heavy and solid and warm against my neck, and I swore I would never take it off.
    That night, despite the moments with Mick, I fell asleep smiling.
    On my way to work the next morning I caught up with Tabitha as I rounded the corner to Park Avenue. It took her all of five seconds to notice the necklace.
    “Holy SHIT!” she said. “Is that from Mick?”
    “No,” I said.
    “Oh, come on,” she said. “Of course it is! He adores you.”
    “He’s not all that terrific, Tab,” I said. It was the first time I had ever said anything negative about any boyfriend I’d ever had. And one had thrown me down the stairs.
    “What are you talking about Violet? He just got you that necklace, right? I mean you didn’t buy it for your…”
    “He really didn’t get this for me,” I said. “I found it outside on my stoop when I got home yesterday. Very mysterious.”
    “OK, wait. Suddenly Mick is not that great, and you got a necklace from the invisible man?”
    “Yeah, pretty much,” I said.
    “OK—whatever you say, but I have to say that is a stunning necklace,” said Tabitha. “But what do you mean Mick isn’t all that terrific? He’s pretty stunning too. My God…those eyes…”
    “He’s mean,” I told her. “He