The earring glinted up at Jennifer between two salt shakers as she scrubbed at a sticky patch at table three. The late afternoon light made prisms along its eggshaped crystal.
A half a grand easy, she calculated in her head. Not much, but enough to get me by for a few weeks.
She pocketed it before her conscience could stop her. Yet after dumping the rag in the kitchen, it kicked back hard. “You pulled your last con eighteen months ago, it reminded her. Remember? That’s why you got this job. Put it back.”
She made a beeline to put the earring in the lost and found box when Cooper, the diner manager, announced from his office doorway: “Got a call from a Harriet Tupper. Her housekeeper said she lost a crystal earring. If anyone sees it, let me know.” Jennifer opened her mouth, then stopped.
No, she thought, she would deliver it in person. Maybe the old lady would reward her. Every little bit helped towards getting her out of the women’s shelter.
Jennifer marveled at the manicured lawns and large homes as she rode the bus across town and through the old development.
She felt like a fish out of water in her grease-spattered T-shirt and rag bag blue jeans when she reached Harriet Tupper’s mansion and walked up the cobblestone driveway. She approached the security gate and pressed a button on the Intercom. “Yes?”
The female voice which answered was soft, but crisp. “Uh, I’m just here to return an earring. It—“ A buzz sounded, cutting Jennifer off. A tall whitehaired man opened the solid oak front door and ushered her inside.
Jennifer’s sweaty palm clutched the earring in her pocket while timidly following the man down a plush carpeted hall and into a small, lavender-wallpapered parlor. A bird-frail woman with graying blond hair sat enthroned on a purple sofa. “ What took you so long, lovey?” The woman asked. “You must be hungry. I told Diana to prepare tea and it’s nearly ten minutes past.” “Ma’am?”
“You might as well ring the bell. Dear, why are you wearing that?” the old lady asked, pointing to Jennifer’s jeans. “Not proper tea attire, Jillian.”
“Jillian?” Jennifer repeated. “No, ma’am. I’m Jennifer. You left this at the diner.”
Jennifer slipped the jewelry from her pocket and placed it in Mrs. Tupper’s hand. The lady took it and casually placed it on a side table. Jennifer gaped. “I’ve missed you so much,” Mrs. Tupper cooed, stroking the young woman’s cheek.
Like the grandmas on TV, Jennifer noted. Something she always longed for, but her mom’s gypsy-like nature never afforded them. Zombielike, Jennifer pulled the old pull-bell and in walked a tall woman with salt-and-pepper hair, carrying a tea tray. Jennifer’s stomach betrayed her by growling loudly.
How long ago was breakfast? she thought as she sat across from Mrs. Tupper. As they ate, Mrs. Tupper chattered incessantly. It wasn’t long before Jennifer realized Harriet thought she was a great-niece, Jillian. Jennifer tried to explain the mix-up between sandwiches and sips of milky tea. Yet it seemed Harriet wasn’t listening to her.
When the meal was over, Jennifer rose to leave. “Not yet, Jillian,” Harriet pouted. “I have your room all ready.” The same woman who carried in the tea entered the parlor with a pill on a napkin. When she gave it to Harriet, Jennifer gestured for her to step out into the hall.
“Why does she think I’m Jillian?” Jennifer hissed.
The woman smiled sadly. “I’ve been the housekeeper here since Miss Jillian was alive. Come with me.” They entered a small room kitty-corner to the parlor that the housekeeper called, “the album room.” She pulled a small album off a rosewood shelf and opened it to a picture of a slim dark-haired girl in a pink sundress. Jennifer noted they were around the same height and had the same nut-brown hair, but there the resemblance stopped.
“Mrs. Tupper’s memory’s going,” the housekeeper explained. “We didn’t even realize she left the grounds until the chafeur called saying he took her to the diner. It was her and Miss Jillian’s favorite place. I truly am sorry, miss.” Jennifer shrugged. “No problem. Doesn’t anyone visit?” The housekeeper shook her head.
“They’ll reunite when the money’s ready to be parceled out.”
Heartbroken, Jennifer reentered the parlor and told a halfdozing Harriet she couldn’t stay that night but would return in the morning. “All right, lovey,” Harriet yawned. Jennifer kissed her cheek before leaving.