Monday, May 23, 2011

No Do-overs, Please

Last Monday Durwood called me at work and then called 911. Happily all is well. I don't want a replay of that this week. I'll accept the paycheck that's half the size it would have been, I want him to maintain his level of okay-ness, that I can deal with. Plus he promised to take me to Yellowstone and Mt. Rushmore and the Badlands this summer and he's not getting out of it that easily. So there.

May 22--France, Limoges, Tabernacle of Cherves. Her squeal of delight when the door of the compartment sprang open still rang in her memory. Grandfather's answering warm laugh did too. "You see, cherie," he said, "sometimes there are surprises hidden where you least expect them." That first time there had been a butterscotch candy in the shallow space. As she grew older there were small gifts or notes sending her hunting for treasures too big for the niche. After Grandfather died in his sleep Aunt Juliette locked up the study and wouldn't let anyone in even though it said right in his will that Lyon was to have the tabernacle. No amount of argument, no injunction from the court could force her to change her mind, but Aunt Juliette had gotten the flu last winter and died of pneumonia. That meant Lyon was the last Talbot left and the tabernacle and every other artifact from Grandfather's past was hers. Her finger slid along the corner, she felt the jab of the tiny catch and heard the faint click of the secret compartment opening.

Okay then, that's better. I figure there's a little key in there that opens a safe deposit box with bonds or a bank book to a Swiss account. No, a Cayman account so she can go there and meet a handsome stranger. Yeah, that's it. Ah, I love a happy ending, don't you? Let's all survive the day.

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