Heartstrings

3 - Windows to the Soul

Claire slung her bag over her shoulder. Joan is passed out on her bed after several shots of whiskey by her swimming pool. Her agent had been calling all afternoon, but it wasn't wise to put her on the phone when she was slurring and weeping about her broken marriage.

She told her the only excuse that would make her leave Joan alone until tomorrow: she was arguing with her husband.

The housekeeper came in as she was going out. She told her about the mess of bottles by the pool and the bars of melted chocolate on her nightstand that she insisted she would eat later. They exchanged a knowing look. It was never said, but they both knew they were thinking it: What a mess she'd become!

She walked the few blocks from Joan's high-rise apartment to the bus stop. She doesn't ride taxis unless it is the only choice. There's something about being in the backseat of the car that makes her uneasy – one of the inexplicable reasons she always preferred riding shotgun.

Maybe it was a good thing that Joan passed out around three in the afternoon. She gets to ditch the overtime. Whatever the reason was she was out cold much earlier than usual, it was great not having to leave late. Plus, her boss was just the right amount of drunk when she asked for a day off tomorrow. She was mellow and so agreeable.

With a few hours to spare, she took the bus and did a little window shopping at some of the few antique shops.

The chime rings as she pushes the door open. It was a tuneful sound to her ear and familiar too, given that she's been through the same door more than she could count. The owners – a couple in their 60s – have seen her around the shop quite often.

The man is behind the cash register, giving her a warm smile. The woman had a feather duster in her hand, arranging statuettes with scrupulous fingers.

She walked around, passing through the music boxes where she found the one that played that one song Esmeralda's mother hummed to her.

She lingered at the phonograph disc recorder. She traces the hand crank with the pad of her index finger, taking in its vintage structure. An array of jewelry caught her eye – specifically the necklace centering the display.

It was a gold necklace with a Victorian green pendant. She walked blindly toward it, letting the necklace pull her in. It was beautiful. And utterly so familiar. Like she's worn it before.

"See anything you like?" A raspy voice came from behind her. It was the owner's wife. "That sure will fit your green eyes perfectly. You wanna try it on?"

Claire smiled. "Can I?"

"Of course." She chuckles. "Let me help you."

Claire swallowed nervously as she slowly took the necklace from the display and led her to the mirror. She smiled, wrinkling the corners of her kind eyes. "I see you don't have to look for the matching necklace."

"Oh." She smiled and showed her the bracelet Josh gave her.

"Beautiful piece" She looked at it intently.

"Thank you. My boyfriend gave it to me."

Her eyes twinkled. "Must be a keeper." She drew Claire's hair aside and carefully laid the necklace around her bare neck.

She giggled. "He is."

The woman met her eyes in the mirror. "A rarity these days."

Claire nods in understanding. She knew she was lucky. Somehow, she couldn't imagine what life would be if they hadn't met at the park that rainy day. He offered to share his Hello Kitty umbrella with her (it was his niece's), and the rest was history.