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She picks up a handbag from a long table. It’s a designer one I’ve seen in magazines and probably costs more than my rent. This one is shiny, black, and has a red satin ribbon attached to the front. It’s not really my style, although the ribbon is red, and since that’s my favorite color, I’d probably carry it.
Sorry. I’m getting off track.
I watch her open the handbag, and as she’s about to drop the necklace inside the bag, the man, the pretty one with the aqua-ocean eyes, sidles up to her.
Ooh, sidles. Another good word.
Anyway, he sidles up to her and so do I. Well, not as close as the man is, but close enough to hear them.
“Grandmother. Why do you insist on wearing that hideous necklace if you find the need to take it off halfway through the evening?”
First of all, hideous? That locket is not hideous. It’s as beautiful as Grandma said it was. Second, the way he said “grandmother” was a bit too, how do you say… fancy. Like he’s got a stinky sock right under his nose.
“Oh, Frederick. It’s so heavy,” tall lady whines. “Difficult to believe for such a garish piece of costume jewelry.” She titters. “Your grandfather was not only cheap, but he had terrible taste as well.”
I’m flummoxed.
Another good word.
I look up to heaven and give Grandma a silent thumbs up. I’m on a roll tonight.
Back to the necklace. It’s not costume. Far from it. The thing is made of real gold, real rubies, and real diamonds. While I don’t know how much it’s worth if you were to buy it today, I can tell you, for the Locket clan, it’s priceless.
“Let me hold it for you.” I watch as blue eyes takes hold of the chain and drops the necklace into his right jacket pocket.
“Now what do I do?”
“About what?” Molly’s wiping her hands on the black apron she’s wearing over a white blouse.
I’d love to say, “About taking back my inheritance.” But I keep it to myself. Molly knows everything about the locket, so if I told her it was here, now, she’ll probably tackle pretty boy over there and grab the necklace before I can say boo.
Wait a second… Molly’s idea isn’t all that bad. Except I don’t think I could tackle the guy. I’d have to be way more duplicitous than that.
Duplicitous? “G’ma. You’re smilin’ down on me tonight, aren’t you?” I snicker.
“You’re insane.”
Oh, crud. I forgot Molly was here.
“I believe I am a tad insane.” Especially due to the thoughts rolling around in my head. There’s no way I could do it. The notion that I could suddenly become a thief is ludicrous.
“Ludicrous.”
“I swear, woman. What are you talking about?”
I turn to Molly. “Nothing. Just talking out loud.”
“Duh,” Molly deadpans.
“Mm-hm.”
“I’m going to ignore the crazy that’s happening with you right now and say, I saw you talk to the hotty. Good job, Luce.” She pats my arm. “You’re finally growing up.”
I scowl at my best friend. I’m already grown up. “Get back to work, Mary Margaret Maloney.”
She looks affronted as she hisses, “I told you never to utter that name.” She’s blinking angrily.
What? Blinking can be angry.
