Page 63 of A Wedding in Tuscany
Tuscany
‘Oh, good, you’re back,’ I say, meeting Jaelee and Sarah at the front door of the apartment.
‘Wait till you see it, Cat. It’s perfect,’ says Sarah.
Jaelee follows up with, ‘It’s okay.’
I look between them?Jae’s slightly sour expression and Sarah’s elated one. ‘I can take you up to see it now if you like,’ says Sarah. ‘Bianca has left it open for us.’
‘Let’s just say, security is lax for a reason,’ adds Jae.
I really have no idea what to think, but there’s a more pressing matter at hand. ‘Presents first,’ I say, grabbing Sarah’s hand.
‘What? No, you already wished me happy birthday. You don’t need?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. It’s your birthday and you’re spending the morning on wedding duties! It’s time to take a break so we can spoil you.’ She tuts as though receiving presents is a chore but she knows better?birthday presents are a big deal in our family. ‘Besides, Jean-Luc went to the enoteca this morning for treats. And there’s proper coffee.’
‘Speaking of …’ says Jae, making her way into the apartment.
‘Wait, so are Mum and Dad here?’ Sarah asks.
I shake my head. ‘Golf,’ we say together. Birthday presents may be a big deal in our family but a round of golf trumps all. ‘Anyway, Dad says he wants to give you their present tonight. Come on.’
I tug at her hand, leading the way, and Sarah steps out onto the balcony to a chorus of ‘happy birthday’ in several different accents. She smiles shyly and I eye her curiously?she is definitely off her birthday game this morning. Josh says she hasn’t even checked her emails or Facebook. No doubt there are dozens of birthday messages languishing unanswered.
She looks at the table where two presents sit, one from Jaelee and Alistair and one from us. There’s also a cafeteria of freshly made coffee and a plate piled high with the chewy almond biscuits Sarah likes. All right, I like them too and I lean over and take one.
‘Our present first.’ Jae picks up a small gift bag and hands it to Sarah. ‘It’s just something small.’
‘You didn’t need to do this,’ Sarah says.
‘Ignore her,’ I say right as Jaelee replies with, ‘Of course we did, it’s your fortieth!’ I wonder if, like me, Jae catches Sarah’s tiny wince at the mention of her age.
Sarah digs into the bag and takes out a small parcel of tissue paper. I already know what’s inside but watch her face closely as she unwraps it. ‘Oh, I love them.’ She holds up a pair of silver earrings shaped like sunflowers.
‘I figured. You stared at them for at least a minute in that shop window.’ Jae bought them during our shopping expedition in Siena. ‘I’m just going back for some souvenirs,’ she’d lied before nipping in to buy them.
‘They’re so pretty. Thank you.’ Sarah graciously accepts a hug from Jaelee and leans down to kiss Alistair on the cheek. ‘And this is from you two?’ she asks us rhetorically. I reply anyway with, ‘Yes.’
‘You do know that your presence is your present, right?’ she says.
Now it’s my turn to tut. I embellish it with an eye roll. ‘Just open it.’
‘Fine,’ she says, feigning annoyance. Turning forty notwithstanding, there’s now a glimmer in her eye and I cannot wait for her to open our gift. When I glance at Jean-Luc, he raises his eyebrows at me, his mouth stretched into a smile.
Leaving the gift box on the table, she unties the ribbon and opens it. Inside is a long, narrow, embossed leather box and when she takes it out, she looks at me inquisitively. I beam, thinking that I may just have out-gifted Sarah the Perfect Gift Giver. She opens the jewellery box and gasps. Yes! I think.
‘Oh,’ she says, ‘these were Grandma’s, right?’
‘Yes. I had them restrung and that’s a new clasp.’
She blinks at the string of pearls laying on a bed of black velvet, seemingly confused. ‘But Grandma gave them to you,’ she says, meeting my eye.
‘I know, but … I wanted you to have them.’
‘Oh, well, thank you. That’s …’ She smiles but something’s off. ‘Thank you, Cat?and Jean-Luc, sorry,’ she adds hurriedly. Then she snaps the jewellery box shut and puts it back into the gift box. What? I’d expected tears?gushing happy Sarah tears?or a hug at the very least.
Oh, my god, she doesn’t like it, I think. She doesn’t like my thoughtful, beautiful gift and it’s like a punch to the stomach.
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