The Charm Bracelet

by HILL, MELISSA

  She didn’t know how long she had stayed there in her doorway, but finally she noticed the blinking messages on her answering machine.

  Crossing the small living room, she pressed play.

  There had been numerous calls. All from friends and loved ones who were worried about Holly and the baby. Even Nick had called, and Holly felt relieved to hear from him. Right now was not the time to hold grudges.

  Her throat closed over, though when she heard Kate’s frantic and tearful tones. ‘Holly, have you heard from Justin? Please say you have, I can’t reach him and… I just don’t know what to do!’

  Holly immediately phoned her back but just got the answerphone. She hoped against hope that her friend hadn’t tried to go down there - it was no place for anyone. Yet, how could Kate not, when Justin could be caught up it all? Crying silently for her friends, Holly sank onto the nearest chair.

  Having tried Kate a number of times – still to no avail - she worked to return the other calls, and made promise after promise that she would stay safe. The only other person she couldn’t reach was Eileen. Feeling worried, but by now emotionally exhausted, she dragged herself in to the shower to try and remove the remains of the day from her skin and hair.

  And she tossed the sundress that she had been wearing in the trash. She never wanted to see that dress again.

  Emerging in a robe, Holly saw the sun setting outside her window. This horrible day was ending. She picked up the phone to again call Kate and then her mother

  No answer from either of them.

  The following morning dawned in Holly’s apartment and as she opened her eyes, she wondered if the previous day had been a dream, a horrible nightmare that just couldn’t be real. When she looked out her window and saw the dust still in the air, she realised it was not and her heart sank. She sat back on her bed and cradled her stomach, unsure what to do or think.

  A knock at her door made her break from her reverie. When she peered through her peephole, she couldn’t believe it. It was Eileen.

  Flinging open the door, no words were said between the two women as they threw their arms around each other.

  ‘How did you get here, Mom?’ Holly cried, tears spilling from her eyes. ‘The bridges … I thought the roads were closed?’

  Eileen smiled. ‘Oh honey, I walked. I had to get to you. I didn’t care that the subways weren’t running, I didn’t care that they weren’t allowing traffic. I walked.’

  Holly burst into tears again.

  ‘Ssh pet, everything’s OK. Are you all right?’ she asked, looking down.

  Holly sniffed and followed her gaze. ‘We both are. But Mom … what happened yesterday … everything is changed. Nothing will ever be the same. This poor baby, what sort of world will it be for him? He’ll never know … he’ll never know the world that I knew, the happiness and carefree sense that—’

  ‘Holly, listen to me.’ Eileen took her daughter’s tear-stained face in her hands. ‘That’s not true. The world is still magical, there is still hope. Your baby, my grandchild, will still have every opportunity to wonder and explore the world, but he will only have that if the wonder and joy in your heart isn’t lost. OK? The world you create for your son depends entirely on you.’

  Holly felt more tears escape from her eyes and her vision blurred, but not before she noticed the small box in her mother’s hands. It was a box she recognised all too well.

  ‘Mom … what’s that?’ she asked, sniffing.

  Eileen looked down at the box and handed it to her daughter with a small smile.

  ‘I have had this for a bit, and I was planning to send it to you when the baby was born, but I thought that now might be a better time. I usually like to surprise you as I’m sure you know … ’

  Holly looked at her, shocked. ‘The other charms? Those were you too?’ she questioned.

  Eileen gave a small nod.

  She reached for her bracelet and handled it delicately. ‘But how? I mean, these can’t be from you, I always thought that they were from … ’

  A knowing smile graced Eileen’s face. ‘I know who you thought they were from, and I know you enjoyed the fantasy, even though you never said it out loud.’

  Holly blushed. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry, I feel so stupid now.’

  ‘Why feel like that? Of course there’s something magical about the idea of someone, a fairy godmother looking out for you. And I also know there’s a lot of unknowns about your birth mom in your mind, and that’s perfectly normal.’

  Holly looked away, embarrassed at her mother’s perception. Once the thought had entered her mind that time back in college – that it might be her real mother who was looking out for her – it had been difficult to shake. She was young and highly imaginative, and there was no denying that it was a comforting notion, especially when she was still missing her father and her relationship with Eileen was still suffering the after-effects of being told the truth.

  Eileen took her hands. ‘I know the truth about your birth was still all very fresh in your mind when your dad died and you’d been through a lot. I could see you start to slip away from me, when I knew you needed me more than ever. We needed each other. That’s why I started sending the charms, and I continued to send them because I knew you enjoyed the intrigue and mystery.’ She smiled. ‘To be honest, I enjoyed picking them out and trying to second-guess your reaction.’ Eileen squeezed her daughter’s hand. ‘I’m only coming to you with the truth now, because … well, at a time like this, I wanted to make sure you knew that there is someone who loves you very much, and who is always looking out for you. Someone who would walk for hours and miles to get to you. Me.’

  Holly collapsed in a new round of sobbing and found solace in her mother’s arms. She buried her face into her neck and felt, once again, as if she was about five years old. Eileen stroked her head and soothed her crying daughter.

  ‘You’re like Santa,’ Holly finally got out.

  ‘I know. I thought you’d just decided not to try and find out where they were coming from, so that they wouldn't stop coming,’ Eileen chuckled.

  That had been the rule when she was a child, the moment you stopped believing in Santa, he stopped coming. Holly had held out until she was eleven, finally letting it slip that she had seen her dad eating the same kind of chocolates that appeared in her stocking.

  ‘I’m sorry, it was so horrible for you to find out the truth the way you did. I was so angry at myself for blurting it out like that. Then, when your dad passed so soon after, it felt like you and I were growing further and further apart.’

  ‘It was heat of the moment,’ Holly said. ‘I know that.’ Yet there was no doubt that the knowledge had created a huge chasm in her relationship with her mother and since then, and especially after Seamus’s death, Holly had struggled to reconnect with her.

  ‘No matter, it was all wrong. But in truth, there was a lot of stuff I didn’t get right.’ Eileen gave a watery smile. ‘You’ll find that too when you become a mother yourself. Do you know I was your age, Holly, when your father died?’

  Holly let that sink in for a minute. Her mother had only been thirty-five then?

  ‘I’m sorry I never put myself in your position, how it must have felt for you too – until now. I’m so sorry, Mom.’

  ‘So in all that time you never looked for her?’ Eileen asked. ‘Even when you thought she was sending the charms?’

  Holly sniffed. ‘No. Maybe there was a part of me that knew it couldn’t be her, but like you said, I didn’t want them to stop.’

  ‘Oh, I'll always be sending you something pet,’ Eileen went on. ‘You just keep on amazing me with your resilience and strength. Now dry your tears, and why don’t you open that box?’

  Holly sniffled and pulled away, a smile on her face. ‘OK, fairy godmother.’ With nimble fingers she unwrapped the small box, and when she saw what was inside gave a watery grin. ‘Oh my, it’s so pretty,’ she whispered, lifting out the tiny silver dove.

  ‘
It’s a symbol of hope, and I thought that today, of all days, you might need some. I bought it for the birth of the baby because, as a new mom biological or not,’ she added with a smile, ‘it’s easy to feel like the world is swallowing you whole, that you don’t know how you will ever manage, and you very quickly realise what a big job you have in front of you. It’s all too easy to feel overwhelmed. But I know you, sweetheart, and I know that you probably feel that way today, when the world seems to be falling apart. But it’s not, and it never will, just so long as you have hope.’

  Chapter 34

  Greg hustled across town on the bike, trying to make it through the heavy traffic that littered the Manhattan streets.

  Doing his best to navigate the messy, slushy street without slipping and crashing off, he made it to the gallery about fifteen minutes later.

  Only to realise that it was closed.

  ‘Damn,’ he spat, as he peered inside the gallery. It was dark, except for a small light coming from somewhere in the back.

  Taking a chance, Greg got off the bike and knocked on the window, just in case Gennaro was inside.

  Getting no response, he tried just a little bit harder and gave several more loud raps – still nothing. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through the numbers, finally coming to Gennaro’s. Pressing call, he waited to be connected.

  Only to be sent directly to voicemail.

  Now what? he wondered to himself.

  Then, to his surprise, the front door of the gallery swung open and he felt himself jump. Turning to his left he expected to see his friend, but it wasn’t Gennaro. It was a slight woman with long black hair and almond-shaped eyes. She was dressed in black from head to toe. Gennaro’s assistant, Sofia. Greg recognised her immediately.

  ‘Can I help you?’ she asked with an impatient edge in her voice. ‘The gallery is closed.’

  ‘Sofia, isn’t it? Hi. I’m Greg Matthews. Gennaro has exhibited some of my work in the past and—’

  ‘Gennaro’s not here,’ she interjected quickly.

  ‘Right, I gather that, I just tried his number and—’

  ‘He flew to Barbados. On the twenty-fourth. With some woman.’

  Clearly, Sofia was not impressed with this getaway. Greg briefly wondered if Barbados had been promised to her, only for Gennaro to change his mind and bring someone else. His friend’s taste in women seemed to morph on a daily basis, and he wondered just how many different females he had in reserve at any given point in time.

  ‘I spoke with him the other day and he didn’t mention anything about that.’

  Sofia snorted. ‘Out of the blue he tells me he needs me to take care of the place for a few days. So here I am, while he is on some beach with some bimbo.’

  Greg wondered just how involved Gennaro had been with Sofia. Clearly, she was miffed about much more than having to work.

  ‘So,’ he continued gently, trying to change the subject, ‘I’m actually here because of something that Gennaro said the other day—’

  Sofia cut him off quickly. ‘He hasn’t spoken to me about commissioning any new artwork, so I can’t help you until he gets back.’

  ‘Actually, it’s about something different.’ Greg went on to explain the situation he was in, and the comment that Gennaro had made about the woman coming to the gallery to identify the owner of a lost bracelet. ‘Did Gennaro happen to mention anything to you about it before he left? Anything about a bracelet?’

  ‘He didn’t say a word about any such thing. But apparently I am in the dark about a lot of matters these days, so no surprise there,’ she said, huffily crossing her arms across her chest.

  Greg sighed, wondering if this was the end of the road for him. At least until Gennaro got back from his break, and he could talk to his friend directly.

  Then he considered another angle. Maybe Gennaro hadn’t mentioned the bracelet, but maybe he had mentioned something else that could well be related. He’d got the impression that Gennaro had agreed to help the woman in some way and, knowing his friend, he was likely to have pawned off such a task.

  ‘Is there anything else?’ Sofia asked curtly, clearly anxious to go back inside and out of the cold.

  ‘Just one more thing. Maybe Gennaro didn’t mention the bracelet specifically. But would he have asked you to do anything out of the ordinary over the last few days?’ Sofia looked at him and her eyes narrowed. Greg quickly clarified his request. He was sure Gennaro had many unusual requests outside of work (and most likely inside the bedroom). ‘Anything that wasn’t business-as-usual? Like additional administration perhaps?’

  Sofia was already shaking her head. ‘Everything Gennaro does could be considered out of the ordinary.’

  Greg winced, feeling sorry for his friend. Based on this woman’s tone, Gennaro was certainly going to have some explaining to do in the very near future.

  ‘OK, well thanks anyway,’ he said, guessing this conversation was going nowhere. ‘Happy holidays.’

  He started to turn away, when suddenly Sofia spoke again.

  ‘I wasn’t finished,’ she continued, shaking her head as if to say ‘typical man, refusing to listen.’

  ‘Oh I’m sorry. That was rude of me. Please go on.’

  She sighed. ‘I was about to say that, for instance, the other day out of the blue, Gennaro asked me to pull all of the records for events on every June eighteenth that we had been open. How’s that for random?’

  Greg thought of the date, June eighteenth, and knew he’d hit pay dirt. ‘Completely random. I agree.’ And then he broke into a smile. It was the horseshoe charm he had given to his mother, not the corno, that had led the woman with the bracelet to the gallery. Or, more specifically, the numbers on the charm, 618 – 18 June.

  ‘Do you mind if I come in to talk about it? It will just take a moment, I promise.’

  Sofia nodded her agreement and held open the door for him as he fixed the bike to a nearby lamppost. ‘He didn’t tell me what I should do with the list when I compiled it,’ she said, as Greg followed her into the darkened gallery. ‘He just gave me a name and a number to call.’

  He immediately perked up at this. ‘He gave you a name?’

  She nodded as she entered the office of the gallery and rummaged around in a drawer, before taking out a sheet of paper. ‘This is what I pulled,’ she said, handing it to Greg. ‘It’s all names of artists who were featured at gallery events on that date for the past eight years.’

  Greg looked at the list, and his brow crinkled in confusion when he didn’t see his own name. ‘Why are there only women listed on this?’

  Sofia sighed. ‘Because that is what Gennaro requested. I thought he was looking to expand his little black book, but if it is about what you say, then that makes sense.’

  Greg shook his head, not getting it. ‘How so?’

  ‘Well, you say that there is someone who is trying to find the owner of a bracelet? Obviously, she is looking for a woman, not a man. After all, would you wear a charm bracelet?’ Sofia rolled her eyes at having to explain the obvious again.

  Greg nodded and couldn’t help smiling at Sofia’s exasperation. She probably put up with a lot of crap having Gennaro as a boss. But indeed it did make sense.

  At the same time, if Sofia had provided a list of only women to the mystery woman, there was little chance of their paths crossing.

  ‘You also said you had a name and a number? For the woman you sent this list to?’

  ‘I have not yet sent it – I have not had the time to send it. I was going to but … ’ She sighed again. ‘It’s right here, written on the top of the page.’

  Greg looked and to his relief saw a list of digits handwritten beside the name ‘Holly’. It was a local number, here in Manhattan.

  ‘No last name?’ he asked.

  This elicited a bitter laugh from Sofia. ‘If she did, I’m sure Gennaro is keeping it to himself, especially if she is attractive … ’

  She is, Greg recalled si
lently.

  He also remembered Gennaro mentioning that he was going to call this Holly to ask her out. So if she did happen to leave a last name, it was probably currently in Gennaro’s possession.

  Nonetheless he didn’t need it. Now that he had Holly’s number, all he had to do was call and introduce himself, and explain how he came by it. He took a moment to program the number into his phone. ‘Thanks Sofia, you have been a big help – a really big help,’ he said, buoyed by the new information. ‘In fact,’ he added mischievously, ‘if I were Gennaro, I would tell you to take the rest of the day off.’

  Sofia’s eyes glittered. ‘Can I tell Gennaro you said that?’

  Greg laughed as he turned towards the front of the building. ‘Sure. Blame it on me.’

  Going back out onto the street, Greg didn’t hesitate in immediately calling the number he had just been given, and was looking forward to speaking with this Holly and retrieving his mother’s missing bracelet. It sounded as if she was a very kind person to have found it and then go to the trouble of trying to get it back to its rightful owner. And how clever of her to try and do so through the charms. Greg was pleased that it had been one of ‘his’ charms that had led her to Gennaro’s and, thus, to him.

  He listened as a phone rang on the other end of the line, somewhere in New York. Three rings, four rings, five rings, no answer. Then a voicemail message came on.

  ‘Thank you for calling The Secret Closet. Unfortunately, we are unable to take your call at this moment as we are either on the other line, or currently serving customers. Kindly leave a message and we will get back to you shortly. If you are calling to arrange a pick-up or a donation, please call back during the hours of four and six p.m. Thank you once again for calling The Secret Closet.’

  ‘The Secret Closet?’ Greg muttered to himself as the message ended. Clearly it was the number not for Holly directly, but the number of a store. But what was that on the message about leaving donations? Was she the owner of some kind of charity store? His mind quickly went through the possibilities.