Changes

    Francine studied her reflection in the full-length mirror in the bedroom. Hair combed? Check. Dress on? Check. Shoes on? Check. Happy with her reflection? No.
    This look was definitely not for her. Jeans, T-shirts and boots were her wonted attire. 
    This? Evening attire in the middle of the week? Even the idea of that was foreign to her.

    Make-up. Perfume. Nail polish. Not natural to her at all.
    Jewelry. It felt as suffocating to her skin as the make-up did.
    Herbert’s idea of a nice evening out certainly did not suit Francine.

    She sighed. Looking closer at her reflection, she decided some of the jewelry could go. At least three of the rings and two necklaces. All the bracelets.
    Herbert had laid them on the dresser some time during the afternoon. It was sweet of him to purchase beautiful things for her to wear, but how did she get him to understand that she did not need such things, only his love.

   After several months of living in Herbert’s house, which was too elaborate and fussy for her to be comfortable with, Francine occasionally wished she had not made this move. She felt adrift in a world not her own, unanchored and stranded without a way to return to herself. Though she did not have many friends in her hometown, she had none here, not even casual acquaintances whom she could meet at McDonald’s for an afternoon of Big Macs and silly conversation.
    Herbert did not understand her feelings of being confined. He had given her a nice vehicle, without her asking for one. She had a credit card to use as she wished; when she had seen the limit on it she was astonished – she could have purchased everything she owned back home and had credit left. Herbert was sweet and attentive, praising anything she did, no matter what it was.

    Francine paused in the process of removing jewelry. Could that be her problem here? She loved Herbert but his constant flattery made her self-conscious. She had tried to get him to understand she did not need it, nor want it. She wanted his love and trust, to have his warmth and strength beside her – as long as she had that, nothing else mattered.
    She turned the diamond solitaire around on her finger so the five-carat emerald-cut stone was in the palm of her hand. She hadn’t wanted a fancy ring; she didn’t need a ring to remind her whose woman she was. Her heart told her that. 

    Dear Herbert. She loved him unconditionally. His heart was good, his intentions pure. He just tried too hard to please her. Perhaps one day he would understand that his love was all she wanted from him. Until then, she would wear the finery, but tonight, there would be only one piece of jewelry – the diamond.