The Ice King Regrets

What did it mean that Mother’s necklace was here? Was it really hers? But no matter how much I stared at it, the form did not change.

I studied the photo again. Noah, standing outside a hotel five years ago, his hand wrapped around a woman's wrist. I had looked at this same image a hundred times back then, and had let it break something in me that never quite grew back right. But the necklace… How had I never noticed it till now? Had it been blurred out then?

The necklace was just as I remembered it… Gold, uneven beads, a small red stone at the center. Tacky, if I was being honest. The kind of thing you would find at a flea market in the Village and somehow still pay too much for.

I decided to get a second opinion and texted Simone. “Are you awake?” My text read.

Three bubbles appeared almost instantly, dancing on the screen before fading out and snapping back into view. After a few seconds, her reply dropped.

SIMONE: Girl! Of course, I’m awake. I’ve been worried sick waiting for you to text all day. So? How was your first day back? A few colleagues and I saw the way he ignored you on screen. What an asshole!

She sent a few colorful emotes of the middle finger after that, and I couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at them. Classic Simone. She was probably sitting in her place with her silk bonnet on, ready to throw hands on my behalf.

Then another text popped up: “Are you okay?” Before I could answer, my phone rang. It was Simone. I picked up on the first ring.

“I’m fine, Simone,” I told her before she could get a word in, cutting off whatever fast-talking rant she was about to launch into. “I actually reached out to you because of something else.”

Her response came instantly. “Sure, what’s up?” I could hear the sound of revving engines in the background. As if she were on the road. Was she just returning from work? At this time?

“Where are you?” I asked instead. “Why is it so noisy over there?”

“Uh uh, nice try. Don't try to flip it on me, Aria.” She laughed. “I know all your journalist tricks. You go first.”

I exhaled audibly and rolled my eyes at her response. “Fine.” I braced myself. “Do you remember that gaudy necklace my mother loved to wear? With beads.”

“Oh, yeah. She said it brought her luck,” she replied. “She used to claim it kept the bad vibes away while she spent your dad’s money. I remember it. Why are you bringing that up now?”

Ugh, why did she remind me of that?

I pulled the phone away from my ear and cropped the photo, cutting Noah out of the frame. TThere was no point dragging Simone into my suspicions before I knew what I was looking at. Once the edges were tightly trimmed to show only the glint of gold and blue beadwork against a dark silk fabric, I hit send. “Just sent you a flick,” I said, bringing the phone back to my ear. “Do you recognize the necklace?”

“One sec,” Simone muttered before falling silent. I could almost picture her squinting at her screen. After some time, she spoke again. “Yeah, that's definitely the same necklace.” She confirmed it casually. But my heart sank, and the air left my lungs. So I wasn't imagining it. The necklace really belonged to Mother. Suddenly, Simone gasped. “Hold on, Aria… Isn't this from the picture of the woman Noah cheated on you with?”

Crap. She had recognized it after all.

“I gotta go, Simone. I’ll hit you back later,” I said, my voice dropping an octave as I tried to force a calm, professional tone I absolutely did not feel. “Thanks for checking the photo for me, though. I appreciate it. That was all I needed.”

“Hold up, Aria. Don’t you dare do that to me,” Simone snapped, her voice dropping the loud Brooklyn energy and turning dead serious. “Don't you dare hang up on me. Open up. For real.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I stared at the messy printouts on my desk. “Look, I don’t even know what I’m looking at yet. It’s just a bunch of wild theories and guessing games. Once I actually get something solid, I’ll fill you in. I promise.”

“Nah, that’s not what I mean,” Simone chuckled, which threw me off. I heard the sound of a car door slamming echoing through the speaker. “I’m not talking about your feelings. I mean literally open up. Open the front door. We can talk about it right now and figure this mess out together.”

I blinked. “Wait, you’re outside? Like, right now?”

“Yes ma'am,” she teased. “When you went completely ghost on me earlier, I knew something was up. I was already halfway down your street when you sent that text. Now open the door, it’s freezing out here.”

“There’s no way you’re actually here,” I muttered under my breath. She rarely dropped by unannounced. I would usually receive a call, requesting for permission which she had begun to do since… Since I lost my child. Then she would ask what to bring for her visitation. If she was here, without doing all that, she must have been really worried.

I got up off the bed and walked to my front door, phone still pressed to my ear like I needed the confirmation of her voice and the sight of her at the same time. I pulled the door open.

There she was. Simone Jackson, in a leather jacket over silk pajama pants, box braids piled high on her head, grinning at me like she hadn't just crashed my breakdown at eleven at night.

“Hey, babe,” she said, waving with the hand not holding her phone, then finally lowering it and ending the call on her end. Mine buzzed once in my hand to confirm it.