Pink Jewelry Box

The ride home from the hospital was never easy. Every Saturday they would pile in the car and drive the half hour at the off chance they might get to see their grandma one more time. Roro had become too ill for the kids to get to see her, but their mom was allowed to go in. It was nearing more than a month since they began this new Saturday morning routine, and all Anna, Clark and Lori were able to do was sulk around the waiting room and bother their mom for vending machine money for what seemed to be the only edible food source in the entire hospital.

As they stepped into the house, their mom said, “Before you run off, Roro told me she wanted me to give you all something.”

Giving them something meant that she was probably doing worse. Chairs scooted out from under the kitchen table as their mom left the room. When she returned a moment later, she was holding a small pink box.

“What is that?” Anna asked.

“It’s a jewelry box. It was Roro’s.” Their mom placed it on the table. They passed it around, Lori taking more time than anyone, feeling the smooth touch of its blush pink and raised detailing that tickled her fingertips.

Before Lori could stop herself, she muttered, “we can’t keep this.”

Anna wasn’t amused. “What? Why not?”

“This is what Roro wanted to give to you all.”

Clark chimed in, “Which makes no sense because there are four of us.”

“Clark!”

“I’m just saying! What am I going to do with a jewelry box?”

Their mom squeezed onto a chair with one of them. “Lori, sweetheart, she wanted us to have it. She told me this today.”

Lori’s eyes made their way around the table. Clark looked at her with confusion, Anna in disgust that she would even suggest such a thing, and her mom kept giving her the ‘concerned eyes’ that she made quite often these days.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate Roro’s gift. I just… I just think she should hold on to it until, you know…”.

“She dies.” Clark finished the sentence with no hesitation.

“Clark!” Anna shot him a look reserved only for sisters to give to their brothers.

“Sorry, but she is! She will! And if she, on her deathbed, is telling Mom to give this to us, then why would we tell her we don’t want it?”

“I said that's not what I meant!” Lori could feel herself growing angry and sad all in one breath.

The next few moments were silent. Even though Clark’s choice of words weren’t quite worthy of a spot in Roro’s obituary, was he right?

Clark took the box from Anna and opened it, exposing its empty inside. No one was really expecting anything to be in it, and they weren’t hoping for anything to be in it, but a small part of them wanted something to be there. Lori began remembering the morning she had all alone with Roro as her eyes studied the box, stopping at the little nicks and chipped paint. The pink remained a light blush and the gold latch had become a bit rusted. She and Roro were the only two awake in the early hours of the morning when they had painted that pink jewelry box together. It felt like forever ago, but not long enough for Lori to forget that some of the flowers atop the box were painted by her.

Lori woke early that morning, long before anyone else. There was a rule that they weren’t supposed to wake their Mom up, so she followed the quiet noises coming from downstairs. Roro was dancing in the kitchen, her favorite jazz music on the radio. Perched in the doorway, Lori watched her grandma as she hummed and moved through the kitchen. When Roro spotted Lori during a turn to grab some eggs, she let out a ‘dirty’ word, then made Lori promise she wouldn’t tell anyone. They both laughed for a long time.

Scrambled eggs and orange juice for Lori and an omelette with coffee for Roro made for great conversation. Roro told Lori about her family growing up, that her own mother passed away due to complications from a lifelong smoking habit, and how she hadn’t seen any of her brothers since the funeral. Lori was old enough to understand but young enough to not know exactly what her Grandma was talking about. After breakfast, Lori helped wash the dishes while Roro sang along to every tune on the radio, using the spatula as her microphone and the weathered kitchen floor as her stage.

Roro’s room was like a forbidden sanctuary. The door was always open, but they would only dare to peek in when she wasn’t home. So when Roro asked Lori to help her get ready, all Lori could manage was a giddy nod. Through trial and error and Lori herself trying on a few of the options, they had found something for Roro to wear. Lori was looking for a pair of kitten heels to go with the summery dress when she found her grandma's stash of nail polish in a shoe box in the closet. Most of it was old and solid, but the few that weren’t she pulled out.

Roro was sitting at her vanity, looking through her earrings when she glanced at Lori in the reflection of the mirror. Lori was laid out on the floor, kitten heels nowhere to be found and nail polish on her toes.

“Lori, dear, why don’t you bring those over here.”

Roro had cleared a spot on the table for the nail polish and a spot on the bench for Lori. Lori watched as her grandma fastened her earrings, closed her jewelry box and then asked, “I think this could use some color. What do you think?”

Lori’s smile reached up all the way to her stunned eyes. She told Lori to pick out her favorite colors and after Lori did, Roro whispered to her, “those are mine, too.” Lori and her grandma giggled and shared stories as they dipped the brushes in and out of the little bottles. The blush pink jewelry box slowly became trimmed with little marigold flowers. As they were painting, Lori stopped and looked at her grandma.

“Roro, I thought you liked Daisies?”

And her grandma looked at her, smiled and said, “yes, but these will remind me of you.”

“Lori!” With a hard nudge, Lori was reminded she was sitting at the kitchen table.

“I’ve literally said your name three times.” Anna was annoyed with her siblings more than she was ever occupied with anything else.

They were all looking at her, quite confused with her absence. The box was still open, still empty and she was still set on returning it to Roro. The idea came to her like her grandma’s illness, rather unexpectedly. She excused herself from the table and ran to their office where she grabbed pens and a stack of paper. All the attention she needed was given when the pens and paper were slammed on the table.

“It will take too long to explain why I think we should give Roro this box back, so just trust me. With it looking like she won’t be getting any better, and with the chances of us being able to see her anytime soon being quite slim, I think we should write her a letter, saying our goodbyes if you will, especially since the last time Mom talked to her she couldn’t really form a coherent sentence. We can put the notes in the box for Roro and, Mom, the next time we go, maybe you can read them to her.”

Honestly, Lori was expecting an argument to get them on board, but without saying anything, the three of them grabbed a pen and paper and took off to their own secluded spot around the house. Lori remained at the table, mainly because that's where the jewelry box was, but also because this was the table where she shared breakfast with her grandma.

The day had made its way into the late afternoon, with the sliding door open and the spring air circling through the kitchen, Lori remembered that day with Roro more and more. As she sat and watched her grandma cook her eggs, her mind couldn’t help but think about being old. You wouldn’t think a girl her age would be concerned with such things, but their grandpa, Paps, had died suddenly a few years ago, which is why Roro had come to live with them. And Lori’s mom was alone now too, so did growing old also mean you were going to be alone? If that was the case, Lori feared growing up.

“Roro?”

“Yes, Lori?” Roro was adding her secret ingredients to Lori’s eggs.

“I don’t want to be old like you.” Lori’s voice was not shy, but full of the spirit of a made up mind.

Roro let out a soft laugh. “Why do you say that?”

“I don’t want to be alone like you and Mom.”

Roro turned from the stove, apron stained from decades of cooking. She met Lori at the table and sat next to her. “My dear girl, I am not alone. I have you and Clark, Anna and your mother, who is my baby girl. And you will never be alone as long as we’re here.” She placed her gentle hands on Lori’s cheeks and then, just like a fairy godmother would, said “I don’t believe we’re ever really alone, anyway.”

What did she mean by that? Lori thought at her grandma’s kitchen table.

Lori’s paper was still blank. The sun had dropped further, making the sky orange like those creamsicles they used to have in the summer when they visited Roro and Paps. In the same way the popsicle would melt all over their hands, the sun's orange was melting into the clouds, striking a resemblance to the marigold’s that they painted on Roro’s jewelry box.

The whole family was out in the backyard now, their papers returned to the table. The curtains that hung by the back door were moving with the breeze, and with the way the sun was hitting the jewelry box, it looked as though the marigolds, painted on the soft pink, were dancing. And even though she knew it couldn’t be, Lori swore she could hear jazz music coming from the radio.

The ride home from the hospital that following Saturday turned out to be the last. Lori held tight to the family’s jewelry box as tears started to fall on the flowers she and Roro had painted years ago. As memories flickered in and out of her mind while her mother made the final turn to their neighborhood, she was unaware that a few miles away Roro had asked her attending nurse to read the notes her grandchildren had written one more time. The nurse obliged, unfolding the first note. As tears started to streak down her patient’s cheeks, she began to read: I’m going to miss you, Roro. When I grow older I want to be just like you, filled with happiness and joy even when life has me in despair. Give Paps a hug for me. I just know he’s waiting for you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. I talked with God to assure you have some good jazz playing on the radio for you up there. And thank you for the jewelry box. We decided to keep it in the kitchen, along with your favorite recipes stuffed inside. Mom told me if I wake up early with her tomorrow, she will make your famous omelette for me, and when I eat it I know I won’t be eating it alone. Love you more than so much, Lori.