I began this story on:
September 11, 2011, 8:00 PM
The Jewel Box ~ Bridgett’s Jewels
By Ora Lea Harrison
Zoe looked at the jewel box on her dresser and felt stuck.
She had lived with the secrecy of the jewels in the concealed compartment of the box for what seemed like her whole life now and was just tired of worrying about it.
She looked past the box to the framed painting of her daughter, Bridgett.
Precious Bridgett, how in the world can I trust you with our family jewels when you don’t even behave like a girl?
Bridgett was almost fourteen and yet, Zoe didn’t feel that she could pass on to her daughter the box and its secrets from the past.
Oh, Poppa, I wish you would tell me what to do.
As if reading her thoughts, she heard a deep male voice from below.
Poppa! Zoe was joyful at the sound of her Father’s voice, now it would be all right, Poppa would tell her what she should do.
She ran to the balcony and seeing her Father below, called down to him. “I’m so glad to see you; I was hoping to talk to you.”
Serena was taking her Father’s coat as he answered her, “Well, I’m here now so let’s have it.”
“Not here, come, let’s go for a walk,” Zoe insisted.
“But, I’ve just come in, Zoe, can’t you let me get my bearings first?”
“Poppa, I’m afraid I can’t wait, I have to talk to you now!” Zoe continued. “Serena, kindly care for everything while I’m outside please.” She took her Father’s coat and got one for herself and taking her Father’s arm, she turned him towards the front door.
Crossing the front drive, she and her Father strolled through the old oaks that lined the walkway.
Her Father began teasing her in the accustomed way that he did until looking into her face, he realized that she had something important on her mind.
“What is it Zoe? You look like you’re burdened about something.”
At this bit of sympathy, Zoe began to tear up. Fighting crying, she didn’t speak at first. Then, feeling like she would be able to talk without weeping, she started, “Poppa, what am I going to do about giving the box to Bridgett? She’s having her fourteenth birthday soon and I don’t feel that she’s ready yet.”
William looked at his daughter, momentarily not understanding what she was talking about.
“Oh, the jewel box! I had forgotten about it. You don’t feel that Bridgett’s ready for you to give her the secrets of our past just yet?”
“No, Poppa, I don’t, she’s such a tom-boy, always running and playing with Wayne and his friends. She just doesn’t seem to want to settle down and be a woman yet.”
William studied Zoe’s face, seeing a little of the girl that she had once been, remembering how she ran and played and worried her own Mother.
He threw his head back and began to laugh, large guffaws that startled Zoe.
“Poppa,” she took his coat sleeve, wondering if he’d lost his mind, “Are you alright?”
He looked down at her concerned face and restrained himself from further laughter.
“Zoe, don’t you know that your Mother had the same concerns for you? She didn‘t have hopes for you becoming a lady, yourself. There‘s no hurry, she‘ll have all of her life to be a woman. Let her be a girl for a while longer. Give her time, she‘ll come around.”
William could see her face settle and she asked in her own little girl voice, “Do you really think so, Poppa? Do you feel that I should just give it to her, anyhow?”
William looked thoughtful and commenced walking.
“Zoe, there’s no certain time for anyone to reach the age of maturity, we each have to grow at our own pace. Just because someone looks a certain way on the outside doesn’t mean that they’re irresponsible.”
“When you were fourteen, I felt that you were more responsible than your sister, Deborah, would ever be yet look at her boys. They’re going to the university and are turning out well. You can hardly tell that they’ve got English blood in them, after all.”
“Oh, Poppa, Deborah’s a fine person. Is that why you didn’t give custody of the jewels to her; because she married a man with English blood in him?”
“I just felt that you were the one to carry the tradition, is all.”
“I’ve always felt proud that you feel that way about me, Poppa. You’re right, I don’t need to worry so much about things, they’ll eventually work out.”
“Zoe, if you feel that the jewels are a big worry, I can always take them back and decide on an alternate way of caring for them.”
“No, Poppa, I’ll be alright, they’ll be alright, too. I wonder if having the children has had an adverse affect on me; I do tend to worry a lot.”
She turned and walked back down the walkway, her arm linked with her Father’s.
A few night’s later, after talking with her husband, Charley, about the situation, they agreed that the children should be told some of the things about their heritage.
Serena had left for the day and the youngster’s were huddled around the dining table doing schoolwork.
Zoe had wanted an intimate place to talk to the children and the dining room seemed to be as good a place as any.
“Children,” she began and looked at the faces of her offspring.
“There’re some things that your Father and I need to tell you about your heritage.”
Unlike her own parents, she had enjoyed talking to her children about Scotland, in story form.
Now, when she began to talk about their ancestor being an Earl of Scotland and being called a Jacobite because of his rebellion against the English government for taking away their way of life, they thought at first that she was telling them another story and was happy to be given time away from their homework.
When they began to understand that she was not just telling another story, they settled down and started asking questions.
Zoe was glad that Charley was there to help field the questions. Young, inquiring minds needed answers and having a man tell them made the point go over better, she knew from experience.
As the conversation progressed, Zoe was aware of how now was just the right time for the children to learn of these facts. While they were still playing soldiers, they could visualize it in their minds more.
With this behind her, Zoe felt that the groundwork had been laid to tell Bridgett about the jewel box.
Zoe and Charley had raised Bridgett much the way that she, herself, had been raised, with a free hand. They made sure the essentials of life and caring for a home were incorporated into her play so she would be a worthy woman.
What they hadn’t considered when planning on giving her a little sister to be a companion was that the sister would be a brother and his boy ways would rub off on her.
When little Tommy later came along, Zoe decided that she, herself, would have to be little Bridgett’s companion as much as possible so that she would have female attention like she had had with her own sister, Deborah, and her Mother, Anne Marie.
Running a household was more time consuming than she had figured on, however, and Bridgett had become more of a little wild thing than she could imagine happening.
Zoe was glad that the children weren’t being raised in the city to learn of its worldly ways but being in the country had its faults, as well, it seemed.
Checking on the upstairs linens one day, Zoe passed by the open door of Bridgett’s room and peeking in, saw that she was sitting at her dressing table, looking at herself in a most solemn way. Zoe hadn’t seen her this way before and was surprised.
“Bridgett, are you alright? Is there something that I can do for you?” she asked.
“Mommy, if we lived in Scotland and the English hadn’t changed things, I’d be a princess or something, wouldn’t I?” Bridgett looked up at her Mother‘s reflection in the mirror, standing behind her.
Zoe was amazed that Bridgett would be having such deep thoughts for one so young.
“I hadn’t given it much thought but yes, I suppose we’d be of nobility. I don‘t believe you‘d be any different than you are now, though.” Zoe pondered this new side of Bridgett and decided that now was maybe the right time, after all.
“Bridgett, would you come with me, please?” Taking Bridgett’s hand, she led her into her own bedroom, closed, and locked the door.
Going to her dresser, she picked up the jewel box and took it to her bed and she and Bridgett sat on the bed with the box between them.
“Mommy, what’s going on?” Bridgett was looking at her Mother wondering.
“Bridgett, what I’m about to tell you is sacred and you can never reveal it to another soul except for your husband and the daughter that you choose to share this information with, do you understand?”
Zoe couldn’t think of another way to tell her daughter the secrets of the jewel box. Bridgett seemed to be impressed enough so she continued to tell Bridgett the history of the jewel box.
That night, Zoe awoke of a sudden without knowing why.
Seeing the moonlight streaming through the windows, she looked over at the clock on the mantle. The clock’s hands were on one o’clock. She got out of bed, went to the window, and peered out.
The world had a silvery cast and she just stood in her nightgown for a while enjoying the view.
Father was right, she thought, Bridgett and the jewels will be alright and so will we.
The End
Finished writing September 13, 2011, 9:42 PM