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21
TOM, OH MY GOODNESS,”EMMA EXCLAIMS, UNABLE TOcome up with anything else.
She lifts the bracelet from the box and lets it dangle from her fingers. There are four strands of thick, sterling silver cables interspersed with freshwater pearls. It’s a cuff as much as a bracelet, a striking piece of jewelry she might have even picked out for herself.
But notnow. Not at this point in her life. And why would Tom think of it for her? She’s never mentioned the brand to him—and beyond that, it’s nothing like any piece of jewelry Tom’s given her in the past.
“Do you like it, Em?”
“Yes, I do—I love it,” she says, hoping he doesn’t detect the hesitation in her voice.
Tom inserts his fingers beneath the bracelet, tugs it gently from her fingers, and undoes the clasp. He’s obviously expecting her to put it on now.
She stretches out her right arm in his direction, and smiling, Tom fastens the bracelet around her bare wrist.
“It seemed veryyouto me,” he says. “Bold, but with a lovely tender side, too.”
“What gave you the idea?”
“I saw a photo of it in a magazine and thought you might really like it.”
And she does. But it doesn’t change the fact that she associates this type of jewelry with the ugly life she left behind.
“Well, thank you so much, honey,” she says. “It’s going to look great with everything, even jeans.”
The waitress returns with Tom’s drink and takes their dinner orders. Over the next hour they catch up and discuss plans for the following day. Tom’s playing nine holes of golf in the morning while Emma intends to do a little shopping and then, if the weather holds, they hope to head to the beach. A couple of times, she notices the bracelet shifting on her wrist as she gestures, making soft clicking sounds, and her discomfort resurfaces. It’s only a piece of jewelry, she tells herself, one fromTom, not Derrick, and she’s going to have to find a way to let go of her association and appreciate his gift.
They’re home by nine thirty and decide to watch an episode of a spy thriller series on Netflix before turning in. A couple of times when Emma glances over, she notices that Tom’s eyes have drifted off the TV screen and he’s staring into the distance.
“Had your fill of ruthless arms dealers?” she asks.
“What?”
“Your mind seems to be elsewhere, honey.”
“It’s just been a long week at work, I guess. Putting out fires, dealing with Dan about the numbers, finding out I have to go back to Chicago first thing Monday.”
“Not to mention the buzzkill of an NYPD detective showing up in the Halliday parking lot.”
Bringing up the elephant in the room certainly qualifies as buzzkill, too, and yet Emma had made a split-second decision to stop ignoring it. If that’s what’s bothering Tom, she needs him to share that with her.
He shrugs. “Well, hopefully, she’s out of our hair, and we’ll only hear from her again if she makes an arrest. You haven’t learned any more on that front, have you?”
Emma shakes her head. “Peter Dunne said he’d call if he knew anything.... Tom, are you sure this isn’t eating at you?”
He smiles ruefully. “It could if I let it. But why borrow trouble?”
She wishes she could be more like him.
Tom’s tee time the next morning is at nine, so breakfast is a bit rushed, but after he leaves, Emma indulges in a second cup of coffee before heading to the farmers’ market. It’s held in a parking lot, but the peaked white tarps over each of the tables give it the feel of a medieval fair, and she almost expects to see jousters on horseback.
After parking and grabbing her cloth shopping bags, Emma wanders down each aisle at least once, checking out the produce and enjoying the scent of homemade bread and muffins wafting from the bakery stands. Finally, she circlesback to a couple different tables to pick out a head of lettuce, fresh peas, and a pint of bright red strawberries.
She’s rounding one of the stands, ready to leave, when she nearly collides with a tall, redheaded woman, then realizes she knows her.
“Justine, hi,” she exclaims. “Excuse me for nearly mowing you down.”
“Oh, no, it’s totally my fault,” Justine Carr says in her typically silky voice. “I wasn’t paying attention.” She’s dressed in a cropped black tee and pink workout pants, probably both from Lululemon. Her long hair is pulled back today in a ponytail and her skin is bare of makeup. Justine apparently engages in everything from boxing to CrossFit to SoulCycle, and Emma assumes she’s come from some kind of workout.
