The Heirloom Rift

My niece's bridal shower guests weren't due for two hours, but I could only think about how to ask my sister for Gran's bracelet. Gran died six months ago, but Clara had yet to mention the 18-carat gold bracelet with robin's egg blue turquoise in-lay, which I had coveted my whole life. Gran promised it to me, and having this precious heirloom on my wrist would connect me to my beloved grandmother in a visceral way. 

I'd recently discovered by accident via DNA testing that my sister and I were only half-sisters. Did Gran already have a bun in the oven when she married Grandpa? This confirmed my lifelong sense of disconnection from the rest of the family. This bracelet could help seal that breach by giving me something of Gran's that she wore every day, a feeling of belonging.

I'd flown into town early to help Carla with the last-minute bridal shower preparations. Carla prepared individual Waldorf salads in trifle cups in her recently renovated kitchen while I made fruit salad. Everything looked House Beautiful perfect, down to the orchid in the bay window.

"Your package from Williams Sonoma arrived yesterday," Carla said. "What did you get Jilly? 

"A 5-piece Le Creuset iron cookware set."

"Ooh, la la. So generous of you. A bit much for a shower, don't you think?" 

I ignored the bite at the end of the back-handed compliment. "Nothing's too good for my only niece." 

"What do you mean by 'only'?" asked Carla. The edginess of her voice warned me that I'd stepped on a landmine. She'd wanted but couldn't have more children. At least she got one, which was more than I did.

Speaking softly to bring the temperature down, I said, "I meant that she's my only younger relative." We weren't getting off to a good start, but my question pressed on me. "I've been meaning to ask you…" Was I really doing this now? "Have you finished settling Gran's estate? 

"Yes, there wasn't much to it."

"Oh good, then I can get Gran's bracelet this weekend? I'd like to wear it to the wedding." I looked at Carla to catch her eye, but she looked down at her cutting board.

I gave her bracelet to Jilly. You're getting Gran's wooden stool if you want it. You're short like Gran, and I recall you coveting it." Carla began chopping the walnuts with fervor.

Each chop felt like a stab in the back. I began chewing the inside of my mouth. Channeling my therapist, I counted to ten. My mind searched aimlessly for the right words when these spilled out: "Gran wanted me to have her bracelet." I froze, but Carla turned away to rinse the red grapes. The loud flow of water became a barrier to speaking. 

"Well, Gran didn't specify who got what of the little she had. I did the best I could. It was no picnic being executor, especially with a wedding to plan."

I grabbed the butcher knife and halved the watermelon ending with a thump sound on the cutting board. "What if you talked to Jilly…" I took a breath, "…and explained that Gran promised me the bracelet and that it means the world to me? You could ask for it back."

"You can ask her, but she really likes it. As far as I'm concerned, the matter is closed. You'd be better off just letting go of this and being satisfied with the step stool. It's really old and might even be worth something."

"It's not about money, Clara. Why does it always come down to that for you?"

"I love that stool. I can just picture Gran on it in her little kitchen. I'm giving it to you, but if you don't want it, I'll keep it. I'd advise you to not bring any of this up with Jilly now. Guests will arrive soon, and we don't need your bracelet drama."

We heard bustling, and Jilly entered the room. "Aunt Dee Dee…" She looked stunning: blown-out, thick tresses, a professionally made-up face, and fingers extended as if her nails were still drying. 

"Hi, sweetie." We hugged. "You look so pretty. All ready for your shower?"

"I can't wait, Auntie. Thanks for flying all the way down here for this." Her gratitude filled my heart.

###

While my rock, Mark, and I sat on the wedding aisle waiting for the garden wedding to begin, intrusive thoughts of Gran's bracelet invaded my mind. The shower ended without a resolution. Jilly had the bracelet, which I noticed she didn't wear that weekend, and it miffed me. I left Gran's wooden pegged stool behind because it was heavy, and I didn't want to signal I'd given up on the bracelet. 

Lately, I'd had recurring dreams of being in Gran's kitchen, watching her chop onions and then pausing to step on the stool and grab a spice from a shelf she couldn't reach. Her bracelet glinted as the sun caught the golden edges. The turquoise inlay mirrored the blue of the cloudless sky. As the butter melted in her cast iron pan, the scent of fried onions filled the room, making me feel hungry even if we had just stuffed ourselves with pancakes. These memories were like a down comforter wrapped around me on a chilly morning and told me I was loved.

Mark urged me to let go of pining for the bracelet. My husband was sensible this way, always letting life's irritants flow off his back. He encouraged me to see the big picture and asked, "Is this the hill you want to die on?" After surviving two years in Vietnam and seeing friends die, he didn't let little things bother him. 

Mark cautioned me that if I didn't get over this, it would cause a family rift, and a thing like a bracelet just wasn't worth rupturing the family. He'd convinced me not to bring up the DNA issue since they'd probably find out eventually. No need to be the messenger they'd blame. Even if I did have the bracelet, he reminded me, I would probably bequeath the bracelet to Jilly anyway—she was just getting it early. 

Wedding March began, and we all stood and turned to see Jilly radiating with joy traversing the white runner strewn with red rose petals. Her sleeveless wedding gown enabled her to show off her new arm tattoo. My old-fashioned sensibilities didn't care for it, but at least her ink was flowers and not a snake or a skull. 

As she got close to us, I saw it. The bracelet adorned her wrist—Gran was here with us. It felt like that down comforter swaddling me as a child, warm, safe, and full of love. Mark noticed, too, and he grabbed my hand and squeezed it. 

###

I felt my body relax as the reception winded down. The band serenaded the remaining dancers with Etta James's At Last. Only a few slices of the lemon chiffon cake remained. I saw Carla finish a conversation, so I approached her.

"You did great, sis. It was a perfect wedding. Are you happy?"

"Well, there were a few minor mishaps, but all-in-all, I think it came off pretty well. I'll fall apart tomorrow when I realize I've lost my daughter." I hugged her, knowing how attached she was to Jilly and that their relationship would now certainly change. Finally, I felt I was letting the bracelet go.

I asked, "Where is our bride, anyway? I want to congratulate her before we leave." Just then, I spotted her next to the band, and she waved at me. I walked over.

"Aunt Dee Dee. I'm married!" Her smile couldn't be any wider as she held up her hand to display her wedding ring.

As I hugged her, I said, "Congratulations, darling. I wish you every happiness."

"Oh, before I forget," she said, "I have something for you."

She reached over with her left hand and pulled Gran's bracelet off her wrist. "This is for you. I wanted to wear it for today, you know, something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. It's all those things. Something old from Great Gran, something new to me, something borrowed from you, and just look at that stunning blue turquoise."

As she placed the precious bracelet on my wrist, my other hand went to my heart. The lump in my throat prevented speech. I hugged my niece hard and wouldn't let go.

"I confess I heard you and Mom arguing over the bracelet. I just wanted it for today, but it really belongs to you. Wear it in good health, Auntie."

I wanted to share my joy with Mark, and then I spotted him standing with Carla. They'd been watching us. Carla raised her champagne flute in acknowledgment: Gran's bracelet was home on my wrist.