Between Women
By ZionAngel
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May 28th, 1988
My son Tony is in his bedroom - hopefully - brushing out his hair as I write this. He is fourteen years old, and tonight we are celebrating the end of his first year at MIT. A few minutes ago, he came into my bedroom as I was putting on the pearl necklace my husband gave me the night he proposed. He asked me, again, to tell him about that night. So I told him the story he's heard many times before, how Howard gave it to me before one of my piano concerts, saying that I deserved something so beautiful; how it took a great deal of convincing, and a promise that I was not obligated to keep it after the concert was over to get me to wear something so expensive; how by the time I finished playing, I knew I would never return it; and how, after dinner, Howard told me he had one more gift to give me.
But tonight I added something to the story that I have not told Tony before. As much as I love this necklace, as much as it means to me, I never intended to keep it for my entire life. So I told Tony that, because he has no sisters, I imagine he will one day give it to the woman he loves.
And if you are reading this now, then I suppose that is precisely what he has done.
It will probably be many years before I meet you, and yet I already know exactly the kind of woman you must be - kind, loving, intelligent, beautiful, and no doubt possessing the patience of a saint. And, above all else, I know that you must love Tony as deeply and wholly as he loves you. Because, for all of my son's faults, he is by far one of the most loving and devoted people I have ever met, as I'm sure you know better than anyone else. I know that he would not have given you his heart if you did not deserve it.
So treasure this necklace as I have, and each time you put it on, let it remind you of how deeply you are loved and cherished, and remember that it carries many years' worth of love and blessings from Howard and me. My prayers are with you, that you will experience a lifetime of the love and happiness that my own husband has given me, and that you will give Tony the same love in return. You both deserve nothing less.
With Love,
Maria Stark
Pepper fights back tears as she finishes the letter, breathing deeply to calm herself - she doesn't have time to fix her eye makeup. She doesn't even have time to be reading this letter; the benefit starts soon, and they're a bit late already… but she can't take her eyes off the letter. This simple letter, written over twenty years ago, a message and a blessing from a woman she never got to meet.
She pushes that thought away, that thought that Maria should have been able to give Pepper and Tony these blessings in person, and instead picks up the envelope. It matches the small sheets of stationary on which the letter was written, and on the front, in the same elegant cursive of a woman with impeccable control over her hands, are the words To the Lucky Woman Who Won My Son's Heart. There's a photo still tucked inside, and she pulls it out carefully. It's an old black and white snapshot with a white border around the edge. She instantly recognizes the two faces she sees there - Howard and Maria. It's their wedding day - the hand-written note on the back says that the picture was taken shortly after they were pronounced husband and wife, on the afternoon of June 12, 1970. She turns it over again, and studies the image of Howard in a tuxedo, and Maria in an elegant wedding dress, wearing that same necklace.
Pepper's hand comes up to her own neck, fingering that same string of pearls, smiling faintly. They're standing close in the picture, smiling and staring into each other's eyes. The look in their eyes is the same one Maria described in the letter. Pepper knows it well - she's seen it in her own fiancé's face more times than she can count.
She takes a deep, shaky breath, fighting tears again, so grateful that she finally noticed that the velvet liner of the cherry wood box wasn't as snug as it should be. She could have gone years, decades without knowing this letter was hidden away in the jewelry box. She easily could have never found it at all.
She stares longingly at the letter, the photo, wishing she could have met them; mourning the fact that she never will. But she's glad, too, grateful that something was left for her, something to make her feel welcomed and loved, accepted into the family. And this simple little thing, this old, flimsy piece of paper fills some gap she hadn't even realized she was there, some piece of the puzzle that has always been missing from her relationship with Tony. She feels so infinitely lucky to have it now, to have this blessing.
Tony always said that his mother would have loved her - it's why he gave her this necklace in the first place. She believed him, but now she knows.
She hears Tony calling her name from the hallway outside the bedroom, and quickly tucks the letter and photo back in the envelope, hiding it in its original place inside the jewelry box. She sets the box back on its shelf, where it belongs, just as he comes to find her in their walk-in closet.
"You ready to go?"
"Yes." She turns to him - he looks so much like his father in a tuxedo, handsome and powerful and so sweet - and smiles. She crosses the room to meet him, taking his face in her hands and kissing him, slow and deep. He takes her in, loving her back, and his hands caress her hips through the smooth fabric of her gown. When the kiss reaches its natural end, some seconds or minutes later, she pulls back and stares at him, a small, mysterious smile on her face.
"What?"
She might show him the letter, someday, when the time is right. But he has so much of his mother's things already - her old piano, her photos, all the rest of her jewelry and heirlooms, the things she loved. This necklace, the letter, are hers - at least for the time being. And she's content to have these, and keep them to herself, the way she might keep her conversations with Maria to herself, if she were able to have them. That letter is one of those little secrets, kept between women, and for now, at least, she plans to keep it that way.
"Nothing." She kisses him again, picks up her clutch from the vanity, and gently tugs him out the door.