My eyes hadn’t been wrong at dinner.
Claire’s father had given it to her when she was small. Which meant he’d had it for at least 25 years.
I looked at the clock. It was nearly 10:05. I picked up my phone. I’d been told her dad was traveling and wouldn’t be back for two days. I couldn’t wait two days.
Claire had given me the number without thinking twice, probably assuming I wanted to introduce myself before the wedding talk got serious. I let her think that.
Her dad answered on the third ring. I introduced myself as Claire’s future mother-in-law and kept my tone pleasant.
Claire’s father had given it to her when she was small.
I told him I’d admired Claire’s necklace at dinner and was curious about its history, as I collected vintage jewelry myself.
A small lie. The most controlled one I could manage.
