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Before his mother could get to her feet, Gerard was up and out of his chair.
“Let me help,ma tante.” He grinned at his mother. “Didn’t you say something about a broken doorknob? Let me take a look and see if I can fix it. I won’t be long.”
Linda nodded and sat once more.
“That would be wonderful,” Cecile said. “I’ve broken two nails on that damned thing already. Thank you, sweetheart.”
Aunt and nephew, arms loaded with dishes, went into the kitchen leaving Chantalle and Linda alone.
“Sometimes it’s hard without a man in the house,” Chantalle said wistfully. Her eyes narrowed once more. “Didn’t I also read in the newspaper that you were married?”
“I was. We divorced a little over a year ago.”
“Why?”
Generally, busy bodies and nosy people got under Linda’s skin, but she liked and respected this woman, and the question didn’t come from vulgar curiosity. This was a mother’s natural interest in her son’s happiness.
“Tony and I weren’t compatible,” she replied. ”My ex-husband was jealous and possessive. I lacked the patience to deal with his nonsense. Our biggest problem was that we didn’t really love each other the way we should have.”
Chantalle nodded and linked her hands on the table, a gesture Gerard often made.
“You’re right. Love is the most important part of any relationship. It’s essential. Everything else is extra. So, now you fear marriage, do you?”
Linda measured her words carefully. “Not necessarily. I just wonder if that kind of commitment is for me.”
“When you love someone, it becomes your greatest wish. To be with your loved one always, to live in the present, to build a future together, and to forget the past. Gerard is falling in love with you.”
Linda’s eyes widened in shock. How could these people throw around words like LOVE so easily? Didn’t they understand the power of that word? She wanted to ask that very question, but Chantalle continued speaking.
“I think you feel the same way, but you’re too scared to admit it. That’s okay. Gerard’s patient. If he thinks you’re worth it, he’ll wait. What happens between you two is none of my business, but I want to say this to you as a mother who knows she has an amazing son. All mothers may believe that, but in my case, it happens to be the truth.” She smiled, then became serious again. “Don’t break his heart because of some unfounded ideas. He’s a good man, and they’re rare these days.”
Linda gazed out the window, a knot of emotion blocking her throat. How could something she considered so complicated be as simple as Chantalle described it?
Chantalle stood. “Come with me, please? I want to give you something.”
Linda followed the woman down a dimly lit hallway, where one wall was covered in bookshelves. Chantalle reached out and plucked a tiny, square box from one of the shelves. It was old, covered in ivory fabric.
“This is from my dowry,” Chantalle said, opening the box.
Inside lay a delicate chain, so thin it seemed spun by a skillful spider. When Chantalle lifted it from the satin surface, Linda saw a charm dangling from the silver thread, sparkling as it caught the light—a flawless pearl placed within a silver half-moon.
“It’s beautiful,” Linda whispered, impressed by the craftsmanship of the elegant piece. How much history was locked inside the lustrous little pearl?
Chantalle placed the necklace onto Linda’s palm, then closed her fingers around it.
“It’s a gift for you. Earlier, I hadn’t decided whether or not to give it to you,” she admitted. “I waited to see if I liked you. Gerard has chosen well. Pearls and silver represent protection and balance. They suit you.”
Linda bit her lip to keep from laughing. She couldn’t help but like this feisty, lively woman.
“Thank you, Chantalle,” she said. “This is one of the most precious gifts I’ve ever been given. I’m honored to accept it. I’ll cherish it forever.”
The woman nodded. “It has a suave, delicate beauty, but at the same time, it’s strong and enduring, like you. You’re stronger than you think. Turn around, let me put it on you.”
Linda scrunched down while Chantalle stood on tiptoes, to fasten the necklace around her throat. As she turned to face the older woman, her chest tightened with an unfamiliar emotion. She reached for Chantalle’s hands.
“Thank you again, both for the gift and for your trust. You have a wonderful son, and I care about him very much. He’s inherited so much from you, and that’s what makes him an amazing man.”
A bond of friendship, respect, and genuine affection passed between them.
