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He cleared his throat and walked to his car, not looking back. I watched his car pull onto the street until my watery eyes couldn’t see straight anymore. Then I finally went upstairs, curled up in my bed, and wished I’d never fallen in love with Colton Crawford.
Despite my sadness, my heart warned me that this wasn’t over.
15
Frances
The next day was Saturday and I started my shift at the store at eleven o’clock. I still had one hour to put my other plan into motion. Rummaging through my top drawer, my fingers brushed up against a plush velvet jewelry box.
Lifting the lid off the hinge, I pulled out the eighteen-karat gold necklace with a round pendant. Etched on the pendant was the figure of Mother Mary holding baby Jesus in her arms. My grandmother had given me the necklace on my First Communion day. I had only ever worn it on special occasions, along with the gold bracelet my parents had gifted me. I grabbed the white box that held the bracelet and hid both in my purse.
Running down the stairs, I glimpsed my Nonna in the kitchen frying bacon. I didn’t want to stop and talk with her this morning; I was too afraid I’d change my mind.
“I’m off to work,” I said, slipping on my jacket.
“See you later, bella,” she said. “I’ll prepare your favorite for dinner. Agnolotti with ricotta and spinach.”
I groaned from the hallway. How did she manage to make me feel guilty without even knowing what I was about to do? I swore my grandmother had a sixth sense of knowing whenever Marco and I would get ourselves into trouble even before we came up with our silly plan. Only my plan wasn’t silly, it was heartbreaking, but necessary under the circumstances.
I raced outside and down the street. The pawnshop was just in front of my usual bus stop, but I’d never been inside. I didn’t own anything of much value and had never been tempted to sell my gold until now. A pang of regret struck me, but I reminded myself I was doing this for my family, not myself.
A bell chimed at the door when I stepped inside. A man with black hair and a handlebar mustache stood behind a glass counter. He was polishing some silver spoons when he asked, “What can I do for you, miss?”
I approached the counter and noticed the jewelry encased. There were rings, bracelets, necklaces, and more. Some pieces were small and one, in particular, was quite extravagant. “Wow, that one’s gorgeous,” I said, pointing to the thick gold necklace with an enormous emerald in the center.
He opened the glass in front to pull out the necklace. “Oh no, I’m not here to buy. I’m looking to sell,” I said.
“Oh, in that case, show me what you’ve got,” he said, sliding the glass door shut.
Pulling the two boxes from my purse, I opened them for his inspection. From his front shirt pocket, he pulled out a pair of glasses and held the pendant in his hand. “Eighteen karats, that’s good,” he murmured, turning the piece over. He did the same to the bracelet.
Putting down his eyeglasses onto the counter, he said, “I’ll give you two hundred for both.”
“What? They’re worth more than that. Gold is at a premium these days,” I argued.
He sucked his top teeth and shook his head. “The religious images don’t sell too well. I’ll have to melt them down. That’s my best offer.”
Two hundred wouldn’t be enough to pay for Marco’s first semester. We’d be short and I’d have sold my jewelry for nothing.
“Thank you, but I won’t sell them for that price.”
“No problem,” he said, returning to his silver. “When you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
The nerve! “You know, profiting from someone’s desperation is a crappy way to make a living,” I said.
He put down the spoon and tilted his head. “Well, show me a business that doesn’t profit from desperation. Besides, I’m not forcing anyone to do anything.”
I shook my head and left the pawnshop feeling worse than when I thought I’d sell my family’s gifts. Now what?
I thought back to Colton sitting on my couch yesterday. I had called him proud, but now my pride could cost Marco his dream. Don’t panic, Frances. I still had other options.
While waiting for the bus, I decided I would ask my manager, Cheryl, for some extra shifts at work. I didn’t think it would be enough, but it would be a start.
My stomach knotted at the thought of approaching her. It seemed ridiculous, but I recalled the words my parents would often say to us, ‘never demand things in life; if you deserve them they will come’. Or ‘you will be rewarded for your loyalty to a company if you work hard and show your commitment’.
Hmm. I wonder if this is where some of my resistance to confrontation began?
There was no time to dwell on that thought, nor anytime to wait for the company to reward my loyalty. I needed the extra money now.
