She peered at the clasp. It hadn’t opened—it had broken apart from the chain at one end. A tiny ring that held them together had cracked. She looked closer. The chain itself had snapped in a different place. An infinitesimal link dangled free. It wasn’t something she could fix. She would have to take the necklace to a jeweler for repair. Until then, she couldn’t wear it.

Mary Beth sat up, curling her fingers around the precious memento. The box it had come in was stashed in the back of a dresser drawer, along with the wrapping paper, which she’d kept too.

She found the box and put the necklace into it, replacing the lid and rewrapping it, using a bit of the original tape. Not exactly sealed but safe enough.

The tilted mirror over her dresser reflected her hands as she worked on the box. She set it inside her jewelry chest and shut the lid, tipping the mirror straight to look at herself.

Her face was pale and drawn. She was inclined to think of the doubly broken chain as a sign of some sort—and not a good one. Mary Beth picked up a brush and dragged it through her tangled hair. Parr’s gift had brought nothing but bad luck.

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

“I do know that Bobby Joe’s been a handful lately, Mary Beth. I just want you to know how much I appreciate your patience with him.”

Alma moved around the kitchen of the Caine house, using the counters and the dinette chairs for something to hang on to. The renovations at her house were almost done, but the dust from the sanding and fine finishing bothered Alma, who’d decided to stay on.

Mary Beth didn’t mind having her around at all. In fact, she found Alma’s presence a comforting buffer. Bobby Joe was less inclined to pitch fits in front of his mother.

Still, she wasn’t quite sure how to reply to Alma’s remark. “Did Parr tell you that?”

“Yes. We had a little talk before he left for Atlanta.”

Her dad, by coincidence, was there too. A long-planned trip to see his beloved Braves in action. But as far as Mary Beth knew, Howard and Parr had no plans to meet up.

“Seems like you and Bobby Joe could use a little time away from each other,” Alma continued in a matter-of-fact voice. “Was it him or you that came up with the idea of a fishing trip?”

Bobby Joe had left yesterday to drive down to the Gulf with friends. Their parting had been cool, though courteous. Mary Beth knew it would be only a matter of time before they officially broke up. Telling Alma was still the sticking point for both of them.

“One of his buddies, actually. I didn’t mind a bit.”