The Trinket

It was a dark and stormy night, the kind of night when neither humans nor beasts ventured outdoors unless necessary. The wind roared and ululated around Ottawa’s houses and the rain made the streets look like silvery rivulets. Only a few cars were seen on the road, most of them black limousines.

The rain soaked estate looked beautiful even now, with all the lights turned on and guests dressed in their best attire attending a lavish party at Rideau Hall, the residence of the Governor General of Canada.

“What a night for a party,” the American Ambassador said when he greeted the Governor General, Madame Beaubien.

“It was good of you to come, Ambassador. You must be familiar with the Canadian climate by now.”

“Have you met my wife, Caroline?” the Ambassador asked.

“No, I haven’t had the pleasure until now,” Madame Beaubien said. “I haven’t had this job for long, you know.”

The Ambassador nodded and continued to the reception hall where drinks and canapés were served. He put his arm around Caroline and started introducing her to the assembled senators, members of parliament, and ambassadors from other countries. About twenty years older than his young wife, he seemed to be protective of her. 

As was usual at this time of year, the horrid weather was the topic of conversation and the icebreaker among people who didn’t know each other well.

“I wish Caroline would go with me to more embassy parties,” Ambassador Trowbridge said to someone. “The food is always good and the people delightful.” 

“I’ll try, Angus. But there is a party almost every evening, and I like to spend some time at home.”

“Yes, you like home so much that you get on a plane and head for Paris every chance you get.”

Ambassador Trowbridge gave his wife’s shoulder a possessive squeeze.

“Haven’t you seen the Arc de triomphe enough times by now? Or is it Dior that attracts you?”

“Monsieur Dior is dead.”

Caroline’s voice was almost inaudible above the animated conversation and the din of clinking cocktail glasses. 

“Isn’t that little black number you’re wearing from Dior?” the Ambassador asked. “It looks familiar.”

An older senator’s wife looked amused at the interchange between the two.

“You look lovely, my dear,” she said with an admiring glance at Caroline’s slender figure. “Black becomes you, and you don’t spoil the effect by wearing too many jewels.”

Caroline’s hand flew to her throat and she touched the pearls that adorned it.  She blushed and her eyes had a soft look when she heard the compliment.

“I’m Mrs. Stanbury,” the older woman introduced herself. “Do you see the tall man who just came in on the right side of the door, over there?”

Caroline shot a look toward the door and turned back to gaze at her companion.

“Yes, I do. He looks Russian. Do you know him?”

“Oh, yes. Don’t tell anyone I said this, but he’s known as Mr. Know-It-All behind his back. His name is Roman Dantinoff.”

“Why does he have such a nickname?”  Caroline asked. 

“You should have seen him show off last week at the Bulgarian Embassy.  He held forth in a loud voice and told everybody there was nothing he didn’t know.  Quite ridiculous, really.  No wonder people make fun of him. But the strange thing is that he does seem to know a great deal about many things.  Maybe somebody will test him tonight as they did at the Bulgarian party.” 

“Who is he?  Is he a politician or an ambassador?”

“Oh, no,” Mrs. Stanbury laughed.  “I believe he’s a jeweller.  He’s somebody’s relative, and that’s why he’s included in some of these parties.  I think it's time for us to go in to supper.  Coming, Mrs. Trowbridge?” 

Mrs, Stanbury took the younger woman’s elbow and steered her toward the dining room to find their husbands.  Many people had already found their place cards and were seated around tables for six.  As Caroline sat down next to her husband, she could hear Mr. Dantinoff’s loud voice as he was explaining something about golf to one of the guests. 

“You should circulate more, Caroline,” Angus said.  “Try this salmon mousse, it's good, and you don’t eat enough.”

Caroline didn’t answer but sampled her mousse and looked around at the gathering. She blushed at all the admiring glances cast her way, as she lowered her gaze to her plate. She wished this dull evening would end soon and they could leave. But Angus was a gregarious man and engaged in lively conversation with the woman on his other side.

“Why, good evening, Mr. Trowbridge, I didn’t see you earlier.” 

Caroline looked up on hearing the voice and saw Mr. Dantinoff standing by their table.  Angus rose to his feet to shake his hand. 

“We met last week at the Bulgarian embassy.  I’m Roman Dantinoff.” 

“I remember, Mr. Dantinoff.  You were most entertaining that evening, and impressed all of us with your vast knowledge of precious stones.” 

“Well, I’ve been in the business for a number of years,” Mr. Dantinoff said.  “I came over because I couldn’t help but notice you’re wife’s magnificent necklace.  It's been a long time since I’ve seen pearls as beautiful as these.”

“I know you’re almost never mistaken, but this once you must be.  My wife bought them at a small sea side resort a few years ago,” the Ambassador said with a smile. 

“That’s true, Mr. Dantinoff,” Caroline said. “It was drizzling that day, and since my friend and I couldn’t go to the beach, we decided to do some shopping.” 

“At a small resort? Impossible, my dear lady. May I examine your necklace?”

“It's only a trinket,” the Ambassador said. “I don’t understand why Caroline is so fond of it.”

He turned to his wife.

“You have many real jewels you could wear, lovely things I have given you over the years. Go ahead, let Mr. Dantinoff examine your necklace.” 

Slowly, Caroline’s hand rose and patted the necklace while her other hand crept around her neck to the clasp. She handed the necklace to her husband who handed it to Mr. Dantinoff.

“Thank you.”  Mr. Dantinoff paused and looked at the pearls.  With a gentle motion, he started rubbing one pearl against another in a slight, rotating motion. 

Caroline stared at him as if hypnotised , but his face showed no emotion as he made the same movement with one pearl after another.  

At length he looked up from the pearls and directed his eyes toward Caroline.  She sat motionless, trying to hide the terror in her eyes.  The other guests at the roundtable had stopped talking and seemed to be caught up in the tense atmosphere.

Mrs. Stanbury looked interested and was smiling at the jeweller’s serious face.  

“Well, haven’t you looked at Caroline’s necklace long enough, Mr. Dantinoff?” the Ambassador asked. 

The jeweller hesitated and paused, his eyes searching the young woman’s face, now devoid of all pretence and her guilt exposed to anyone with eyes to see.

“Yes, yes, I have.”

He handed the necklace to Caroline with a slight bow.  And she took it, her face almost as white as the pearls. 

“I apologize, Mrs. Trowbridge.  I was so sure ... but the pearls are fake.  I’m afraid the necklace is worthless.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Dantinoff,” Caroline whispered.  “Thank you very much.” 

“What are you thanking him for?” the Ambassador was laughing now.  “If he had told you the pearls were real, everybody would have believed him and you could pretend you have a valuable ornament instead of only costume jewellery.” 

Red-faced, Mr. Dantinoff ran his fingers around his collar. Perspiration stood out on his forehead. Mrs. Stanbury's eyes, wide-opened, stared at him. The conversation around the table resumed but the topic was no longer the weather. 

To Caroline, it seemed the voices came from a distance. 

“May I be excused?” Mr. Dantinoff asked. 

Caroline nodded and he turned on his heel and left the dining room. 

“What’s the matter with him?  Couldn’t take being wrong, I guess. What a joke on Mr. Know-It-All! Tomorrow this fiasco will be known all over town and he’ll be a laughing stock.” 

Caroline looked at Angus.  He was enjoying himself so much that he couldn’t see the shimmering tears that threatened to form in her eyes. 

“I’m afraid you’re right, Mr. Ambassador,” Mrs. Stanbury said in a quiet voice.  “Mr. Dantinoff knows it, too.” 

“Well, now we can all go on with something more entertaining than Caroline's trinket. Did everybody here listen to the Finance Minister’s speech about the budget?” 

With this comment, the conversation took a new turn, and Caroline sat, silent, fingering her pearls with a faraway look

Later, when Senator Stanbury sat in the limousine homeward bound with his wife, he smiled.

“Well, another party behind us. But this time it was worth it just to see Mr. Know-it-All get his comeuppance.”

“Yes, it was worth it,” Mary Stanbury said. “But not for the reason you think. Tonight I witnessed an act so chivalrous that I never hope to see its like again.”

“What do you mean, darling?”

His wife shifted in her seat and turned her head to face him.

“I’m speaking about Mr. Dantinoff. He told a lie this evening, perhaps the greatest lie of his life.”

“A lie?”

The Senator looked puzzled.

“When he said that Mrs. Trowbridge’s pearls are fake. They must be worth a fortune, and he knows it.”

“Why would he do a thing like that?” the Senator asked. “Doesn’t he realize that he has made himself an object of ridicule? Nobody will ever believe a word he says again.”

“Oh, Tom, he knows that and that’s why he left. But he saved a lady’s honour tonight. Did you look at Mrs. Trowbridge?”

“Of course I looked. So did every other man in the room. She’s a lovely young woman, isn’t she?”

Mary Stanbury smiled into the darkness before a thunderbolt lit the dark night for a split second.

“I mean really looked. If you had, you would have seen the love in her eyes when she touched her pearls. They must have been a gift from someone she loves very much, more than she will ever love the Ambassador. It was written all over her face, plain as day. I saw it and so did Mr. Dantinoff, and probably some other observers in the room as well.”

“Well, I’ll be... You’re a wise woman, Mary. Who would have figured Mr. Know-it-All capable of such altruism? But courage needs witnesses. Too bad there were none.”

“Oh, but there were. Mrs. Trowbridge, whom he saved from a life of misery, I, several other people, and above all, Mr. Dantinoff himself. I suspect that he feels better about himself tonight than he has ever done before.”

© Amy Thompson, 2011.

Lottery Ticket II

My father always told me buying lottery tickets was a waste of money.

“But dad, somebody always wins, right?” I would tell him.

“All you’re buying is dreams. The chances of winning are so slight...”

“Oh, I know it, but don’t you think dreams are good value for my money?”

Dad laughed at me. “I suppose you’re right. What a bleak world it would be if people didn’t have dreams,” he said and went back to his newspaper.

Maybe that was the conversation that prompted me to buy a ticket that day. On my way back from school I stopped at a convenience store and bought the ticket that would win me many millions of dollars. The sweet old lady in the store patted my hand and wished me luck, and for some reason, I felt happy. Sure, it was a long shot, but why shouldn’t I win? Others had hit the jackpot, why couldn’t I?

It was a beautiful sunny day for September and even though the leaves were falling from the trees, I enjoyed my walk to the bus more than ever before. Everything seemed sharper and more brilliant on that day.

I gave into daydreaming, and as I walked along, I built castles in the air. What would I do when my ship came in? Note, I was thinking when, rather than If. Of course, I would pay off my student loan to the university but then what? I thought about it for a while and decided I would buy a bigger house for my parents, one with a huge garden. Dad would like that because he was an inveterate gardener. Then I would buy all the latest appliances for my mom’s kitchen so she wouldn’t have to work with the old ones which were always breaking down. For myself, a small car, perhaps, that way I wouldn’t have to take the bus ever again. A station wagon for my mom to make it easier for her to go shopping. A motorcycle for my younger brother, with a helmet, of course. And a computer for my young sister. She had always yearned for one, but my parents said they couldn’t afford it yet. My dog, Julius, would get a new dog house, the best pet food and a new collar, studded with diamonds.

Yes, I thought with contentment, those things would make my family happy. After I got off the bus which took me close to my door, I stopped off at the butchers and bought the best tenderloin steaks money could buy because my allowance was burning a hole in my pocket. Would dad ever be surprised! As a rule we could only afford steak on Sundays. From here on it would be nothing but steak, steak, steak, every day.

I took the ticket out of my pocket just to look at it. There lay my entire fortune and the happiness of my family in my palm. I returned the ticket to its original place and made sure my pocket was secure.

As I entered the house, I decided not to tell anybody about my delicious secret. My great winnings would come as a wonderful surprise.

“Hi, Mom,” I said as I entered my house. “I’ve got something for you.” I handed her the wrapped package and she asked what it was. “Steaks for tonight,” I said shrugging out of my blazer.

She looked surprised. “Steaks on a Wednesday?” she asked with a smile.

“My treat,” I said. “I know how much Dad likes steak.”

“Why, thank you, darling. You must have saved up for this,” Mom said as she put the steaks into the refrigerator. “I was just collecting clothes to take to the dry cleaner, so would you please check your room to see if anything needs to go?”

“Sure, I’ll be right back,” I said and left the kitchen. I went to my room and decided I might as well send all my t-shirts and slacks. I had forgotten to do it last week, so the bundle was big. Then I realized I had to leave some clothes out for tomorrow’s classes and laughed at myself for being so absent minded.

“I’ll carry the clothes to the car for you, Mom,” I said and went out. Mom handed me the other bundles she had collected and asked me to put those into the car as well.

“Dinner will be a few minutes late because I have to get to the dry cleaners while they are still open,” Mom said.

I went upstairs again to relax with television. I heard mom moving around in the hall and called down to her, “Do you need any help?”

“No, I just have a few things to add to the laundry,” mom said.

I said okay and turned my attention to the movie I’d wanted to watch all week.

Next thing I knew, Mom was calling me for supper and I realized she must have

gone and returned without my even noticing.

“I made the steaks medium rare, just the way you like them,” Mom said, smiling

at Dad.

Dad showed his appreciation by cutting off a piece and chewing it while he

smiled at me.

I was startled when Dad said,

“I wonder if anybody we know is going to win the jackpot tonight? They’re announcing the results later.”

After dinner was over I went upstairs to watch the Lottery results. I knew the numbers by heart because they were the birthdays of my Mom, brother and sister.

When the numbers were announced, my first reaction was disbelief. But the numbers were repeated, and there could be no mistake, they were my numbers.

I rushed to the hall closet to get the Lottery ticket from my blazer pocket.

The blazer wasn’t there. “Hey, Mom, what happened to my blazer?” I shouted.

“Oh, I saw it had some stains on it, so I took it to the dry cleaners with all the other clothes.”

Without saying a word, I bolted out of the house, and ran down the street hoping to get to the dry cleaners before they closed.

When I burst in, I saw my blazer on top of a stack of laundry and grabbed it.

***

My anxious fingers probed the blazer pockets and the relief I felt when the little slip of paper touched my finger tips was so enormous I almost fainted. It had been a close call, too close.

As I walked home at a slow pace, I held the ticket tight in my hand. Never would I part with it until my winnings were safe in the bank.

“I found the ticket, Dad,” I shouted when I saw him walk to the garbage can, bag in hand.

“What ticket, Frank?”

“The lottery ticket, of course. My ticket won! We’re rich!”

“I don’t believe it. Show me the ticket.”

I handed him the ticket and he looked at it, his face incredulous. Then I saw him put it into his wallet.

“I’d better keep this safe for you. We don’t want to lose it again, do we?” He smiled at me and we walked into the house.

After such an exciting day, I was exhausted and fell into a heavy sleep. All would be well now, I knew.

But on the following morning Dad wasn’t at breakfast.

“Where’s Dad, Mom?” I asked when I saw my mother drinking coffee alone at the kitchen table.

“Have your cereal, Dad won’t be eating breakfast with us.”

She was still in her dressing gown, and I thought she looked tired. “Did he have to go to work early?” I asked as I sat down. Mom looked as if she didn’t hear me and I had to repeat my question.

“He left, he won’t have breakfast with us anymore. There was a note on my pillow and...”

Mom broke down and started to cry. I stared at her. “Where has he gone?” I asked at length.

“I’m not sure. To Las Vegas, I think. It's in the note in my bedroom.”

I ran to my parent’s bedroom and read the note on their bed. I had to see it for myself to believe it. “Dad will be back,” I thought. “He would never leave Mom and his children. He loves us too much.”

However, days went by and there was no sign of Dad. Mom looked resigned and weary and never laughed anymore. 

She tried to look as if everything were normal when she cooked for us, but now it was macaroni and cheese instead of steak.

“You have to realize we don’t have much money now. Until you and your brother finish college, we have only one breadwinner, and I don’t make much money as a waitress. It will be years before sally will be old enough to work.”

When I heard those words, I felt bitter anger and outrage.  “Dad stole my lottery ticket. He left the day after I won the Jackpot, and left us to starve.”

“Maybe I’ll get a better job one of these days,” Mom said, trying to cheer me up. “We’ll manage.”

“You wouldn’t have to work at all if Dad hadn’t stolen my money,” I shouted.

“Money changes a man, darling. Dad is free to live a new life now.”

Months went by, and one day I read about Dad in the newspaper. The large picture that caught my eye was accompanied by an article about high rollers in Las Vegas. Reading it, I learned Dad had been going to the high stakes table where he always won. The picture was of him and a young, pretty blond at a card table. He had a broad smile on his face, and she had her arms around him and was kissing him on the cheek.

I felt sick as I read on to discover he had bought a large house on Maryland Parkway, the most expensive neighbourhood in Sin City.  There was a picture of Dad and his blonde bimbo splashing in the swimming pool of the house they shared.  Dad was tanned and looked ten years younger.  “He has found a new life all right,” I thought with new fury.  “Do you even remember it's my money that enabled you to build such a life?  Do you think of Mom working as a waitress to make enough money to feed your children?  Do you feel guilty for what you did to us, Dad?  Bet you eat steak every day now.  I hope you drop dead!” 

And that’s just what happened.  A few weeks later, I read in the paper that after a hard evening at the casino, Dad complained of chest pains and died of a heart attack in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.  I speculated about who would get Dad’s money which was my money, of course.  I thought he would leave something for Mom and our college tuition, but no news ever came. 

A year passed, and Mom was still working as a waitress.  My brother and I were working evenings at a grocery store to help out, but I still had a year to go at the university.  “When I finish, I can be of real help to you, Mom,” I said one day when she came home later than usual. 

“I can’t tell you what a comfort you’ve been to me since Dad left,” Mom said and smiled. 

One September day, much like the day I bought my lottery ticket, a girl I hadn’t seen enrolled in my psychology class.  I noticed her because I always notice pretty girls, and this one was beautiful. 

She seemed reserved at first, but when we started talking, she became friendly and animated.  It wasn’t long before I asked her for a date and we went to see a movie and had supper in an Italian restaurant. 

“I’m on a budget so I hope you don't mind eating Italian.  A little spaghetti goes a long way. Why don’t we order spaghetti primavera?”

We started dating on a regular basis, and after a while Mom became curious about Gloria. 

“I’ll bring her home to meet you, Mom.  She’s nice, you’ll like her.” 

Gloria came for supper on the designated day.   “Is this your car?”  I asked when she drove up in a Jaguar.

She nodded. 

“Wow, your parents must be wealthy.  Your dress is always so modest I would never have guessed.”

“My last...an uncle left me some money,” she said.  “My parents are dead.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I still have my Mom but my Dad...well he died.”

I could see Mom approved of Gloria. 

“Mom, do you think we could have the lamb chops you were saving for Sunday tonight instead?” I asked.  Mom agreed it was a good idea. 

“Where did you live before you came here,” Mom asked Gloria over supper. 

“I was born in Boulder City, Nevada, it's a small town.  Then I went to Las Vegas and lived there for a few years before I came here.”

“I knew somebody who used to live in Las Vegas, but he’s dead now,” I said.  “I’ve never been there, though.”

Gloria was silent for a while.  “Las Vegas is not for everyone.  I think it changes people.”

“I bet it does,” I said trying to keep my voice level. 

When we were having coffee in the living room, Gloria noticed a photo of dad and the kids on the mantle.  She went closer to examine it and I watched her face turn white. 

“I have to leave now, thank you for supper,” she said and started moving toward the door. 

“What’s your hurry?” I asked as I walked her to her car.

“I can’t tell you now, I just have to go, that’s all.”

“Will I see you tomorrow?” I asked as she climbed into the car.  “I’d like to talk to you.”

“Yes, we’ll talk tomorrow,” she said and started the engine. 

I watched her back out of the drive way, and thought I almost don’t know this girl. I realized I didn’t even know whether she lived in a house or an apartment. 

It was two days before I saw Gloria again.  Monday morning, I was waiting for her near the entrance to her usual parking lot.  I saw her drive in and park.  I walked over. She didn’t look well.  Her eyes were red and I could tell she’d been crying. 

“Are you feeling all right? You look like you’ve been crying.”

“I have.  I need to talk to you, Frank.”

“Yes, of course.  Shall we talk in your car?”

“Yes, yes, by all means.  I don’t want anyone to overhear.”

“Gloria, I’ve been worried about you all weekend. You left the house in a rush, you didn’t answer your phone, and you didn’t return my phone calls. What’s wrong?”

We were sitting in her car and she started to cry.

“Frank, I’m not the girl you think I am ...I was different.  I used to live with your father and when I saw his photo in your house, I was shocked. That’s why I ran out and that’s why I can’t see you anymore.”

“You knew my father?  How?  Where did you meet him?” I asked.  I was stunned.  So that’s why she looked so familiar, the pictures in the newspaper.  She must have dyed her hair because she was brunette now.  I would never have recognized her if she hadn’t told me. “Did you know he had a family?  He left us almost starving, did you know my mother had to go to work?”

“He told me he was divorced and he never told me he had children.”

“Well, he did, and he ran off with my money.  How could you fall for a louse like that?”

“No, I didn’t.  I only know what he told me.  He seemed so nice, Frank.  And he was good to me.”

“Is he the uncle you told me about, the one who left you the money?”  I looked at her but she was looking at the trees in the distance. 

“Yes, he is,” she said at length.  “But I didn’t know he was your father until the other day.”

“Oh, he lied to everyone,” I said with disgust.  “It's not your fault; he could be very charming when he wanted.  Most people always believed him, myself included.”

“Well, now you know, and you understand why I can’t see you.”  Gloria dried her tears and stepped out of the car. 

“You can’t just go like that.  Gloria, don’t let one bad man ruin both our lives.  I’m in love with you and I don’t blame you for anything that happened before you met me. 

“Oh, Frank, do you think we can forget all that in time?  Won’t you always remember that I was your father’s girlfriend?  I’m falling in love with you, too, but I’m afraid.”

“Look, Gloria, we love each other.  You admit it and so do I.  Why should we let a cad like my father rule our lives?  I have nothing but contempt for him, but he’s dead.  We’re young and alive, and the bad memories will fade in time.  Nothing matters except that I want to marry you.”

That got a smile out of Gloria at last.  She took my hand and I could see the radiant love in her eyes.  “The bad times are over, darling,” I said, got out of the car, walked around it, and helped her out.  Putting my arm around her shoulder, I walked her to our psychology class. 

Today we’re married and Gloria and I are expecting our first baby.  Sally and my brother are both attending university.  Mom stopped working, and we made sure she never discovered our secret.  We almost never think about the lottery ticket which changed all our lives. 

© Amy Thompson. 2011