Tuesday Tales and Greasy

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.





A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. This week we share the prompt "greasy".  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds.  This will be an excerpt from my brand new yet-to-be-named WIP.

Enjoy!~


“It’s a bracelet.” Heidi whispered, her head bowed again.
“How do you know it’s mine?” I still believe she’s made some horrible mistake.
She finally met my gaze again. “I’m trying to do the right thing here.” Her voice raised a little in volume, finding her footing in the conversation at least a slight bit. She rubbed at a smudge on the side of the box. “It must’ve gotten into something greasy during the storm.” She looked at me again, her eyes getting larger.
“How do you know it belongs to me?” Something about the dejected look in her expression told me to ease up on this poor girl. My tone softened. “I mean, the storm was so long ago, and so much was tossed all over the countryside.”
She answered my question without speaking. Carefully grasping the lid, her fingers drew the hinged top half fully open. “The jewelers name is inside on the top. I took it over there to see if maybe I could get some help tracking down the owner.” Slowly extending her arm forward, the silver toned letters glistened against the white satin fabric covering the inside of the box, coming more fully into view.
My heart fell to my feet. Nausea rolled across my abdomen like seasick waves. Inside was a charm bracelet. “Oh…”
“Yes, they knew right away who this belonged to. The person at the store told me your husband bought it for you.”
Was it possible this visitor didn’t know my story? “My husband…”
“Garret Reid, that’s who they said bought it.” Shifting her eyes downward again, she rubbed her nose with a free hand. “I’m so very sorry about what happened. It hurt my heart when I realized who you were.”
Now, I was feeling like a true asshole for raking her over the coals. “I, um, thank you.” I still didn’t reach for the box.
“I’m ashamed I took a few weeks to bring this over. I was a chicken. I apologize. It’s okay if you’re angry with me. I totally understand.” Her words puffed from her mouth as if she was an asthmatic, unable to enunciate the words.
“Oh, now, please, don’t be ashamed. I can’t imagine how you must feel.” Even as I spoke words of encouragement for her, my knees wanted to buckle.

Comments

Susanne Matthews said…
Love the way the undercurrent of emotion for both is so well described. Great job!
January 15, 2019 at 7:18 AM
Flossie Benton Rogers said…
This is a beautifully nuanced scene with layers and a myriad of emotions. Well done!
January 15, 2019 at 11:23 PM
Davee Jones said…
thank you both. this has been a tough book to write.
January 16, 2019 at 9:39 AM
Tricia said…
The emotion in this is so easy to feel. My heart breaks for both of them. Great job!
January 21, 2019 at 11:35 AM
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