Wild Cat And The Marine

“Pick one to keep, Joey. You worked as hard as I did.”

Joey pondered the gleaming necklaces they had made after Jackson left. Outside, the wind rose and Cat heard it keening against the pine siding of the house. The weather always seemed just on the verge of breaking in.

Joey’s small hand hovered over the neatly laid rows of rhodinium, crystal, jade and jasper. She reached for a necklace of fire-cut crystal as boldly red as rubies, yet its value only a few dollars. Picking it up, she held it to her neck and bent forward to use the table mirror to check its effect, her shoulder-length hair swinging forward as she did so. Then she laid it back down.

“Pick one, Teddy Bear.”

Joey took the crystal necklace and slipped it over her head. It lay in a blaze of red against her yellow T-shirt.

“Not exactly a match,” Cat said.

“What’s a match?” Joey asked.

“When things go together. You know, like bees and flowers, like you and your best buddy, Tommy Karl.” Like me and a certain redhead.

“Like me and you. Right, Mom?”

“Yes, honey, like you and me.” Cat hugged Joey and kissed her cheek. Joey smelled like the strawberry ice cream she’d had for dessert and something else. Cat sniffed again. Horse. The faint odor of horse clung to her daughter despite her shower before dinner and the fresh jeans and T-shirt. Cat laughed. “Exactly like you and me.” She rubbed her cheek against Joey’s hair. In full sun, her daughter’s walnut hair would show a bit of auburn. A tiny bit, but enough to remind Cat of fire.