Page 65 of The Tattered Gloves
It still was.
“Even after everything he put you through?” I asked.
She nodded. “My daddy was a good person, Willow — or at least, he tried to be. He just made a lot of bad choices.”
“Like my mom,” I said quietly.
“My sister blamed the world for our misfortune. She couldn’t let go of everything we’d lost — the money, the house… the lifestyle. She was Daddy’s little girl. Prim, proper, and always neat as a pin. She loved growing up in a lavish home. Me? I was happy as long as we were together.”
“And when everything fell apart?” I asked, remembering the story quite well.
My grandfather, the gambler, had destroyed a family dynasty with his obsession.
“After Daddy died, years after, we lost our mother, and Evie went off in search of someone who could give her everything that had been taken from her. I tried to reason with her… tried to show her we didn’t need any of that when we still had each other. But I wasn’t enough for her. I hoped she’d found it — whatever she was searching for.”
“She had me instead,” I said.
“Maybe, one day, she’ll realize what a treasure you are.”
Doubtful.
“Now, come on, let’s decorate this tree.” She hopped to her feet, and I followed.
Still covered in garland, she handed me several handmade ornaments. I recognized a few — the ones I’d helped her make when I first arrived. Tiny felt flower bouquets with glittery tips. The ribbon felt heavy on my finger, and I wondered if it was as soft as it looked.
Part of me wanted to pull my hand out of the glove… just for a moment… to feel the satin run through my fingertips.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I hung it on the tree, careful to keep the branches from catching on the loose strings of my gloves.
“Did you make all the ornaments?” I asked, looking at the pile behind me.
“No,” she replied. “Some are bought; others are gifts. And those,” she said, pointing to the box on the bottom, “are from the old house.”
“But I thought you said everything had been sold?” I asked, my eyes now frozen on that single box.
Now that I got a good look at it, I noticed the obvious wear around the edges. There was staining along the bottom, and unlike the other boxes my aunt had obviously saved from previous online purchases, this one had a perfectly shaped lid.
“It was a gift from our banker,” she answered. “He was a longtime friend of my grandfather and hated watching our family fall apart. He wanted to do more, but my father wouldn’t allow it. Dumb, stupid male pride. So, he offered to buy something from my father and give it to Evie and me. When he saw me trying to choose from this box of ornaments, he scooped up the entire lot and bought it. I’ve kept it with me ever since.”
“What did my mother get?” I asked, trying to remember if I’d seen anything in the house she might have kept hidden.
“A diamond necklace from our mother. It was worth a small fortune. Honestly, I would be surprised if she still had it.”
That would make two of us.
“So, you took a box of old ornaments, and my mother took a ridiculously expensive necklace?” I asked for clarification.
She shrugged. “Like I said, she was used to a certain type of lifestyle.”
“So were you.”
“Yeah, but I never really felt like I fit in it, you know? I mean, look at me!” She laughed, looking down at her paisley leggings and brightly colored sweater.
“Point taken.”
“And, in full disclosure, some of those ornaments are in fact worth quite a bit of money… not that I knew that as a teenager.”
