I lay there and made up stories. Annie had thrown the dress back in her face. Annie had said she didn’t want charity. Annie had laughed at it. Maybe Trevor had grabbed it and made fun of it in front of everyone. Maybe Annie had said something cruel about Lily’s sewing, or about us, about our little rental and my old car.
I thought Annie had refused the dress. Or said something hurtful to Lily.
By two in the morning, I’d decided I didn’t like this Annie girl very much.
By three, I’d decided I’d call the school first thing.
Around four, I fell asleep on the couch with the TV on.
But nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.
“You don’t know your daughter at all,” the woman on my porch whispered. “I’m sorry I have to tell you this…”
I was still staring at the box in her hand.
It was small. Dark green leather, worn soft at the corners. It had a little brass clasp. I’d seen it a thousand times. It used to sit on Michael’s dresser, right next to his wallet and his keys.
It was his watch box. His father’s watch was inside it. A gold watch with a cracked crystal that didn’t even keep time anymore. Michael never wore it. He just liked having it.
After he died, I put the box in my top dresser drawer under my socks. I hadn’t opened that drawer in months, except to get socks. I hadn’t looked under them. I didn’t know it was gone.
“Where did you get that?” I said. My voice sounded strange. Far away.
“Lily gave it to Annie,” the woman said. “Yesterday. With the dress.”
