History

vase

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”  Lara asked her mother.  Her boyfriend was carrying the last of her boxes out the front door.

“What’s that honey?”  Mae cupped Lara’s chin lovingly.  She was going to miss her.  Her new apartment was two hours away.  Thank goodness for cell phones.

“Uhhh…the vase?  You always said you would give it to me when I moved out.”

The vase.   Mae touched the beautiful antique sitting on the mantle, running her fingers over the intricate calligraphy.   She’d never trusted movers to handle it.  It was too precious. It had been her mother’s.  And her grandmother’s before that.  One day she would give it to her daughter to adorn her home.  Maybe in a few years.  She wasn’t ready, not yet. She’d told Lara the history of the vase, why it was so important, how it was all they had left from her grandmother’s dwelling in their homeland, but her eyes always seemed to glaze over in the middle of the story, the same way they did when she lectured her about curfews or her schoolwork.

“Yes, I will give it to you one day.  When you’re settled.”

“I’m settled now.  I have a great job in a major city, a gorgeous apartment.”

“Yes, but…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll hold it on the ride over so it doesn’t get damaged.  Logan will drive.”

“But…”

“Love you, mom!”  Lara kissed her mother’s cheek and walked out the door, cradling the vase in her arms.  As the moving van pulled away from the curb Lara looked down at it.  The appraiser to whom she’d sent pictures told her it was worth several thousand dollars, easily.  Her rent was covered for the next few months.  She and Logan could go on vacation.  She waved goodbye to her mother who watched sadly as they drove away.

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