The Charm Bracelet (10 page)

‘This bracelet really is a pretty thing; it’s incredible just how much it’s like yours,’ commented Kate. She twirled the bracelet gently in her hands, inspecting the individual charms.

‘It’s kind of uncanny, isn’t it?’ Holly agreed.

On her lunch break from The Secret Closet, she’d hustled across the street to Best Bagels to meet with Kate. Her friend was already sitting at a table when she arrived, flirting across with the guy behind the counter.

Leopards and their spots … Holly walked up to her, smiling. ‘Hey, I thought we talked about this!’

Kate grinned sheepishly.

‘Well, as long as he’s quick on the job. I have to be back in—’

Kate interrupted her: ‘Thirty minutes or less, I know. Maybe we should have gone to McDonald’s then. But yep, I ordered for you already. Plain bagel with butter and black tea.’ She gave one last playful wave to the bagel guy and Holly rolled her eyes.

‘Thanks, sounds great.’ She peeled off her gloves and shrugged herself out of her coat.

‘So what do you want for Christmas?’ she asked her friend.

Kate ogled the guy behind the counter again.

‘
Besides
a healthy relationship with a man,’ Holly added, groaning.

‘Oh, I don't know, nothing? A trip to Queens to see Eileen and her famous
mince pies?’ Kate retorted.

Holly’s mother believed God had made pre-cooked food for a reason and it certainly wasn’t her place to argue over it. 

Although, Holly recalled sadly, when Seamus was alive Eileen used to make Christmas pudding – an old Irish recipe that had apparently been handed down through generations. Holly still remembered how delicious it tasted, but after her father died, these family traditions had been abandoned over the years.

Holly
and Danny usually went to Eileen’s for Christmas dinner, and Kate had tagged along once or twice if she wasn’t going home to her family in Minnesota.

‘
You do know she buys the mince pies at ShopRite and then plates them up?’

‘No!’ Kate pretended to be shocked. ‘And the turkey? You’re saying she doesn’t raise one herself on the fire escape and butchers it in the bathtub?’

‘Well, as long as it was raised in Queens …’ Holly laughed; she always joked that her mother never left Queens.

‘That's not true,’ Eileen would protest. ‘I go to the opera, don’t I?’ Holly had to concede that yes, her mother managed to make it in on public transportation to see her beloved
Wagner Circle every year. Holly and Danny would pick her up after the performance and take her to their apartment in a taxi, where she would spend the night and then travel home the next day by subway. Danny and Holly had a running joke. He would ask: ‘When is Nana coming over?’ And she would reply, ‘I don’t know; who's playing at Lincoln Center?’

It was then that Holly remembered the bracelet and yesterday’s failed attempt at tracking it down. With Carole’s permission, she’d taken it upon herself to track down the owner via any means she could, and now she pulled it out to show Kate, who was in the throes of admiration.

‘This looks a bit like Tiffany’s,’ her friend said, studying the bracelet.

‘Really?’ Although Holly was as familiar as any New Yorker with the famous jewellery store, she wasn’t familiar (or lucky) enough to be able to recognise one of its creations.

‘Well, maybe not the bracelet, but this charm is anyway,’ Kate indicated the heart-shaped key. ‘See the maker’s mark just there?’

Holly followed her gaze. ‘Good spot.’

‘A little worn, but it definitely looks like a Tiffany mark.’ Kate continued examining the various charms. ‘Oh, and look at thi
s
a Date to Remember charm! Thirty-first of December.’

Holly reached out and pulled the bracelet back towards her. ‘I didn't notice that either. Not the date anyway.’ But Kate was right: on the other side of the disc-shaped
charm was inscribed:
31
December – Same Time, Same Place
.

She looked away into the distance, her thoughts racing.

‘Oh no,’ Kate chuckled. ‘I know that look. It's the same look you had when you found that old couple’s photo. You dragged me all over the city to find them, remember? It took us weeks!’

Holly smiled; she did indeed remember that photo. She had found it tucked inside a book she’d borrowed from the library. It was of a middle-aged man and woman sitting at a café in what looked like an exotic part of the world, beaming at each other. It had taken a while to find the owner, but with the library’s help, Holly had managed. Turned out he had lost his wife in 9/11 in the meantime and had moved out to
Brooklyn. When Holly and Kate managed to track him down and showed up at his door with the photo, he had broken down in tears. No one said a word; he just hugged her, and she hugged him back. The look on his face had been worth all the hours of searching.

‘I remember too,’ Kate sniffed, her voice filled with sudden emotion.

‘What?’ Holly looked up, startled, and then felt stupid,
Of course
,
she thought.
Justin.

Kate had been in a serious relationship with a man who had worked at Cantor Fitzgerald who had also died on 9/11. ‘I'm sorry, Kate, I forgot for a second. I'm so sorry.’

She had tried her best back then to comfort Kate, but it was hard. Watching her friend suffer was something Holly never wanted to experience again.

Justin and Kate had seemed like the perfect couple: engaged and blissfully happy. Holly had first met them both in
Washington Square Park, not far from her apartment. She had been around six months pregnant with Danny at the time, and Kate's dog Lily had jumped up on her as they passed. Kate was appalled, and while Holly had insisted she was fine, Kate had in turn insisted on making her rest on a park bench and they had all got talking. Kate and Holly’s friendship grew quickly, and the first time Justin visited Holly at home, he had surveyed her tiny apartment and immediately walked over to her window facing the courtyard.

‘Wow, you are so lucky
,’
he’d said. ‘If I had this place, I would park myself in front of this window with a telescope all the time,
Rear Window
style.’

Holly adored him from that moment on.

After 9/11 she had gone to the site with Kate, posting his photo everywhere they could. Kate could not believe it.

‘He's a rock climber, Holly,’ she would say tearfully, as they roamed the streets. ‘A jogger, he's strong and fit, he could survive
anything
.’

Holly would nod, hoping against hope that she was right, but after seeing the wreckage, she knew in her heart it was impossible.

After that, the two women became inseparable. In the months that followed, Holly gave birth to Danny and very quickly realised that she and Nick had no future, and Kate finally accepted that it was impossible for someone to face down such destruction and survive.

Then, a few years back, after the city had sifted through much of the rubble that used to be the towers, they had sent Justin's mother his ID badge from the office. It was all that was ever found of him.

His mother had sent it to Kate with a note.
I can't bear to keep it but I can't throw it away.
Kate wasn’t sure what to do with it either, but Holly knew exactly what. She tucked it in the space between the frame and windowpane in her apartment, facing out to the courtyard. Justin would have his wish after all: a front-row seat to life that would continue on without him.

‘Anyway,’ Kate said, determinedly turning her attention back to the bracelet. ‘If you’re taking the UPS girl’s idea seriously, that is, to try and find the owner by way of the charms, where do you plan to start?

Holly picked up the bracelet from where Kate placed it on the table and looked through the charms again.

‘I’m not exactly sure; there are so many, aren’t there? Is there anything that looks familiar to you? Other than Tiffany’s
key.’

The two women huddled over the bracelet, both studying the charms.

‘Well,’ Kate said, looking up, ‘the Eiffel Tower one would suggest she’s been to Paris.’

Holly laughed. ‘Well, thanks
Captain Obvious
, I appreciate that. Doesn’t tell us anything other than that, though, does it?’

‘She’s lucky. I’d love to go to
Paris … be whisked away by someone special.’ She eyed the guy behind the counter again.

Holly smiled and shook her head. ‘Erm. I think
Paris, Texas is about as far as you’d get with that guy.’

‘Don’t I know it,’ Kate laughed, and put her head back down, considering the charms.

She looked at Holly. ‘Of course, the pink ribbon could suggest—’

‘I know.’ The pink ribbon, a now universally
-recognisable symbol for breast cancer, had been one of the first charms that had stood out for Holly. ‘But she could be a big supporter of the charity – or has a friend or family member who—’

‘Actually … ’ Kate picked the bracelet up again to look more closely at the gift box charm. ‘This one from Tiffany’s …’ She held
up the key again for Holly to see. You know the way they stamp ‘Return to Tiffany’s’ on their key rings and stuff?’

Holly nodded. ‘Yes, I know there’s a reason behind that, but I can’t remember what.’

‘Well, when someone buys something from Tiffany’s with one of those “Return to Tiffany’s” stamps on it, supposedly they’re given the key ring's registration number on a separate card. If the key ring is lost and returned to the store, Tiffany contacts the customer and arranges to get it back to the owner. Isn’t it romantic?’ She shook her head dreamily. ‘So maybe it’s as simple as that.’

‘Yes, but there’s nothing like that on the bracelet,’ Holly pointed out.

‘But there is a Tiffany’s charm. Maybe they keep records of this kind of stuff anyway?’

‘You could be on to something there,’ she agreed, the wheels in her brain turning.

Maybe Tiffany’s did keep records of some sort? At The Secret Closet, even though they weren’t anywhere near the size or scale of Tiffany & Co, they kept records of all their best and returning customers, so as to contact them when something they thought might interest them came in.

When she explained this to Kate, her friend nodded excitedly. ‘Well, then, there’s your starting point. Off to Tiffany’s you go.’

‘Sweetheart, hold on a second … I know you’re excited, but really, you’ve also got me
lugging all the bags!’

I turned around and, seeing the love of my life struggling with some of the shopping bags, gave him a guilty look. I suppose I went a little overboard in the Oltrarno district, but then again, how often does a girl get to shop in
Florence? However, I also supposed I could only use that line so many times …

‘You know, if I thought you were going to have problems keeping up with me, I would have brought a younger man.’

‘Watch it. Besides, the ink is surely dry on our marriage certificate. Too late – you are stuck with me for life.’

I pulled him close and kissed him, truly amazed that such a wonderful man was now my husband.

He put both arms around my waist and we looked out over the precipice in Piazzale Michelangelo, overlooking Florence’s famed Duomo. The setting sun highlighted and gave added mystique to the red dome of the structure, and I couldn’t help but sigh at the beauty spread out before me.

‘Isn’t that just the most gorgeous view?
Florence really was a great idea for a honeymoon.’

‘It’s not nearly as gorgeous as you. And, sweetheart, this is just the beginning of our adventures.’

Feeling happy, content and whole, we wandered on for a bit, while I kept snapping pictures with my Kodak Instamatic 30 of the places I had only ever read about or seen pictures of. I hoped all the pictures turned out well, as I definitely wanted to frame some for what would be our new home. It still tickled me that we were actually walking through the ancient streets of Florence. It all seemed too good to be true!

‘What do you think about stopping and getting a carafe of the homemade vino?’

‘Sounds magnifico,’ I said in my best Italian accent, the one that had been making my husband laugh since we stepped off the plane three days ago. ‘What about there?’ I pointed to a tiny little restaurant that had a few small tables on the street outside. ‘We can watch the world go by and I can consult the map.’

Moments later, we sat at a small wicker table, a glass jug of the house red before us. I opened the guidebook that I had purchased weeks before at a used bookstore back home and looked over an illustration of the city.

I looked up as he gave a snort of laughter.

‘Put that thing away. I think we have already determined that the map in that book is wrong or out of date.’

Indeed, we had. We’d got miserably lost the day before because of this map, but even so, I felt that there had to be some truth in what had been printed.

‘Stop it, I trust in maps. It’s how I will learn my way around Florence.’

‘You learn your way only if the map is right, though.’

I peered across the table, marvelling again at those bright blue eyes and fair hair that flopped over the back of his shirt collar. I thought about running my hands through it right then and there, but decided it might be better to save that for the hotel room.

‘You know, if you behave right now, I might feel the urge to misbehave later, when we are alone.’ I said this as seductively as possible, and ran my tongue over my lips, until I couldn’t take it any longer and burst out laughing.

‘You minx,’ he laughed with a twinkle in his eye. ‘I’m going to hold you to that.’

‘I hope you do, but in the meantime, what street are we on?’ I peered up at the corner of the building in which we sat. I had learned quickly that there were no street signs the way there were in New York, but rather that the street names were actually marked on the buildings. ‘Can you see what that says?’ I asked, pointing to where the name was inscribed in the marble of the building façade.

‘I think it says Viale Donato Giannotti.’

I looked back down at the map. ‘OK, so if that’s right, that means we are on this street right here. And our hotel is there.’ I pointed to each place.

‘I trust you, you’re the navigator,’ he shrugged. ‘I’ll follow you anywhere.’

I put the book down and reached across the table to take my new husband’s hand, the charm bracelet around my wrist jingling happily. ‘Likewise,’ I cooed. ‘Oh, this is all just so exciting, don’t you think? Doesn’t it feel magical, like all of our adventures are only just beginning? I feel like it’s a fairy tale, and that you are my knight in shining armour. I know it’s corny, but I can’t help but get caught up in the romance of this place. I feel as though our lives are just getting started.’

He squeezed my hand and toyed with my bracelet. ‘It’s just beginning. Everything is. Our whole life, together. There is no other person I want to experience everything with. And I know we will. I have never loved anyone the way I love you. You are my everything,’ he said softly.

I felt my eyes tear up, and I leaned across the table to kiss him again. ‘Such memories we are making.’ I tapped the top of my camera. ‘There’s no way this thing can ever give what’s in my mind justice. I love you, and I just know I am going to love where our lives take us, the family and the home we will make. Like I said, I’m a lucky girl.’

He kissed me again. ‘Well then, lucky girl. How about we finish this wine and head back to the hotel. I see some room service in our future.’

I smiled again, ‘Perfect.’

As we started walking back to our hotel, navigating the cobblestones of the street and holding hands, an interesting storefront came into view. A red awning bedecked the outside, and polished brass and other metals shone like a treasure chest from inside the small leaded windows. Italian
corna
in all shapes and sizes were displayed. An Italian talisman of ancient origin, a
corno
was a long, gently twisted horn-shaped object, believed to protect against the evil eye. I’d noticed that they were quite prevalent in Florence and came in a variety of sizes.

‘Oh, look at that!’ I let go of his hand and crossed to the store. ‘How pretty! Let’s go in.’

He held up the shopping bags that we had been accumulating throughout the day and made a look of surrender. ‘Sure, I mean, what’s one more shop in the scheme of things?’

‘Get used to it mister!’

We entered the store and were immediately hit by sensory overload. The entire store was covered in
corna
. It appeared to be all that this store sold.

I crossed the room quickly and came upon a display case like you would find in a jewellery store. Inside it was a selection of smaller horns –
cornicelli
– pieces in silver and gold to be worn around the neck or on a bracelet.

‘Look, how great is this? Look at these!’

He came up behind me and peered over my shoulder. ‘They’re very pretty.’

At that moment, a man emerged from somewhere out back. He had a jeweller’s loupe on a string around his neck and, seeing he had customers, wiped his hands off with a handkerchief he had stowed in his back pocket.

‘
Buona sera.
Come posso aiutarvi?’ Good evening, can I help you?

I thought quickly to the rusty Italian I had been struggling with for days. I loved trying new languages, even though it definitely wasn’t my strong suit.

‘Um … Mi piacciono i ciondoli, molto carini, quanto costano?’ Sure it was a broken translation of ‘I like charms, very pretty, how much?’ But the shopkeeper caught my drift. As well as the fact that Italian was not my native language.

‘
Grazie, lei è Americana
?’

I smiled, feeling as if I had just been rescued. I didn’t know if I could conduct an entire conversation in Italian.

‘Yes, we are,’ I giggled nervously.

‘No problem, I speak English,’ the man said smoothly. ‘I am Giovanni, welcome to my store.’ He raised his hands as if he was summoning the heavens to attention.

‘Thank you. You have such beautiful things.’

‘Ah, yes,’ Giovanni smiled. ‘This I know, all crafted by hand. I do all of this. And someday, when I can no longer, my son will. Do you have children?’ He pointed to us both.

‘No, not yet, but maybe someday, maybe lots of bambinos!’ I laughed. ‘We just got married, we are on our honeymoon.’

‘Ah, beautiful, congratulations to you. Maybe
Florence will bless you with a baby while you are here.’

I blushed and tried to change the subject. A honeymoon baby wasn’t necessarily in the plans. A baby someday, just not right now. We had a lot to do together before baby made three.

My lovely husband sensed my discomfort and interjected to redirect the conversation. ‘Signore, this charm, we like it very much.’ He pointed to a tiny Italian horn made of silver within the display case. ‘How much is it?’

‘Ah, for you,
venti
, ah, twenty lira.’ He opened the display case and removed the tiny charm. ‘For your wife, yes?’

He nodded.

‘See, I have a bracelet.’ I held up my wrist and showed him. 

‘Can you add this right now to her bracelet? So she can wear it today?’

Giovanni nodded in agreement and I removed the bracelet from my wrist. Taking the money, Giovanni retreated to what had to be his workroom. My husband wrapped his arms around my waist and placed a kiss on my neck.

‘I’d say that’ll be a pretty good souvenir of this trip,’ he whispered.

It was perfect. Exactly right to commemorate our time here together.

Minutes later, Giovanni returned with my bracelet. Behind him scampered a little boy who couldn’t be more than four or five years old.

‘Here you go now – enjoy,’ Giovanni said. ‘You see, this here is my son, Lupo. He is only little today, but this someday will all be his.’ He once again raised his hands to the store. ‘Lupo say
ciao
.’

‘
Ciao
,’ the small boy replied.

‘
Ciao
Lupo,’ I said, leaning down to look at him. ‘You are a very lucky boy to have such a talented father.’

Giovanni threw up his hands. ‘Ah, he no speak any English, not yet. He learn though.
Guisto?
’ Right? The little boy nodded his head. ‘And now, you have fun in our city. And much luck in your new
matrimonio
. May you be blessed. May you remember here always because of this.’

He pointed to the charm and I smiled.

‘Thank you so much, Giovanni. Thank you. I’ll never forget this place. We’ll always remember because of this beautiful charm.’ I took my new husband’s hand and we began our retreat from the store, my new charm getting settled into its new home on my wrist. ‘
Arrivederci
.’

Indeed, I would remember this place for the rest of my life. I looked again at my bracelet and smiled. That much was guaranteed.

It was Sunday morning and, as Danny was fast asleep, Holly had the peace and quiet of the morning in bed with her coffee and paper.

Thank God for delivery, she thought, as she cracked open the
New York Times
. She scanned the front page – too depressing, just the picture was enough to make her turn the page. She immediately flipped through to the book reviews and scanned the fiction list to see if there was anything good. After that she turned her attention to the crossword.

Holly could do the
NYT
crossword practically in her sleep. She smiled to herself. Today, the theme was old movies.

Let's see … she bit her lip as she read the clues.

1941 Frank Capra film: MEET JOHN (
_ _
)E

Too easy.
She pencilled the letters D and O in to read ‘Doe’ and then, just as she was ready to move on to the next clue, she heard Danny start to rustle in his bed.

Holly got out from beneath her own warm covers.
Having briefly freshened up in the bathroom, she moved to the small kitchenette and got out a pan and some pancake mix. She had pre-made it and stored it in a jar just for this purpose. As the pan began to sizzle, she heard Danny call out, ‘What’s for breakfast?’

‘Pancakes,’ Holly grinned, predicting the response

‘Yes!’ Danny's feet hit the floor.

They ate in the little breakfast nook off the kitchen and Holly studied Danny, who was looking more and more like his father every day.

He had the same straight nose and black hair, so different from her own colouring, and a nose with a bump on the end. His cheekbones were high and his hair curled around his small ears as if it had been styled that way. He was practically tanned all through the dead of winter, a tribute to his father’s Mediterranean roots. Holly burned or got red if she was out in the sun for more than ten minutes, winter or summer. Danny seemed to be made for the sun: he never burned, nor complained of the heat.

Having practically inhaled his pancakes, Danny stood up and put his dish in the sink without being told.

Then, for the first time, he looked out the window.

‘Snow
again, yay!’ he exclaimed, excitedly hopping from one foot to the other.