modern n'fiction

... I retrieved the oblong box from my bag and handed it to my mother.

"You should take this."

"What is it?" she asked as I opened the box for her, revealing the small, white-gold bracelet.

"She didn't feel right keeping it."

I had expected my mother to break into tears -- but instead, she smiled, liberated the bracelet from its box and fastened it on her own wrist.

"Good, well then I'll wear it!" she crowed.

"Did that belong to you or did you buy it?" I asked, not really wanting to know either way. (I wasn't about to tell her that I'd thought about selling it in the Diamond District the past few months, while it was in my possession and I was strapped for cash.)

"Oh, I bought it for her," my mother confirmed. "It was over $200. I knew she liked silver." She turned out her wrist and admired how the bracelet draped over her skin. "It looks good on me, doesn't it?"

"It looks great," I said -- then, sheepishly, "Merry Christmas."

My mom laughed but I felt downright ghoulish. I hadn't bothered to get anyone gifts that year. Here I was returning a gift she'd given to her ex-daughter-in-law -- this was all I had for my mother this year. A reminder that her son's marriage had failed and he'd forgotten to get her even a token present for Xmas.

I helped her put sheets on the guest bed I was to sleep on that weekend.

"That was nice that she gave it back," my mother added.

"Yes, yes it was."

"You know, I really loved--" my mother paused and corrected herself, "I really love her. I really do. I think she's a really good girl."

I choked back the protests that collected into a lump in my throat. Don't love her, mom. I don't love her anymore. In fact, I think I kind of hate her.

"Yeah, she was a good girl, mom."