In the Valley, We Trust
A little bit of Vermont magic on the old Bobbin Mill trail
(based on a true story)
Sara’s hand kept going to her right wrist. Again and again, throughout the afternoon, but no matter how often she did it, the bracelet wasn’t there.
There was no telling where she’d lost it. Possibly in the Mehuron’s Supermarket parking lot, where they’d stopped to pick up provisions for their walk and picnic on the Bobbin Mill Trail. Possibly on the trail itself. She had no idea. All she knew was that the bracelet was on her wrist that morning, as it had been every morning for the past eight years. She hadn’t taken it off since Brandon had given it to her on their fifth wedding anniversary.
Ever since they’d met on the Camel’s Hump trail in Vermont’s Mad River Valley, she and Brandon had been inseparable. One moment she was a runaway bride hiking the mountain solo, firm in her commitment to leave behind the predictable life set out for her in Boston, and the next, Brandon and his dog Gandolph were by her side and had remained there ever since.
The missing bracelet had resided on her mother’s left wrist for as long as Sara could remember. From an early age, Sara asked if she could have it. Her mother’s response was always the same: “You’ll get it when the time is right.” It became a family joke. Every stellar report card, every graduation, every accomplishment, large or small, resulted in Sara asking if now the time was right for her to have the bracelet.
And then, on their fifth anniversary with a baby on the way, the time was right.
Brandon was a man of countless small gestures: coffee in bed in the morning, helping out with weekday dinners and laundry, keeping the wood pile high, and quick to offer an arm on any patch of walk that hinted at ice. But he was clearly out of his element with anything related to women’s fine jewelry. His oversized hands had fumbled with the miniature gold screwdriver and tiny screws included with the bracelet. The act of attaching the two gold oval halves of the bracelet to a loved one’s wrist was supposed to be a ceremonial gesture. But Brandon dropped one screw between the sofa cushions and cursed until he found it and finally managed to secure the heavy gold bangle onto Sara’s wrist. It took all of her willpower not to laugh.
She barely had time to register the feel of the bracelet before Brandon turned serious. He took her face in his hands and looked into her green eyes.
“That night we told your mom you were expecting, she pulled me aside and gave me the bracelet to give you. She said something about the bracelet symbolizing our ongoing commitment.” He paused before continuing. “I don’t think we need a bracelet to acknowledge our commitment, but I hope you’ll think of me whenever you look at it and know how much I love you.”
Sara couldn’t trust herself with words at that moment. The gratitude she felt toward her mom, and her love for Brandon, threatened to overwhelm her. She kissed him slowly, knowing they had all the time in the world together, and vowed never to take the bracelet off. And she hadn’t. Not through arduous hikes, not when backpacking through Europe, and not the year they’d spent single-handedly renovating their basement. Through it all, Brandon stayed by her side and the bracelet on her wrist—right where both belonged.
But now the bracelet was gone. The realization filled Sara with an emptiness akin to grief. All afternoon, she brushed aside tears as she searched the house, hoping in vain to find it behind a sofa cushion or in a jacket pocket.
“It’s a thing. It’s just a thing,” Sara kept repeating like a mantra to convince herself. But to her, the bracelet was so much more. The way its two halves came together to make one solid whole felt like a metaphor for her relationship with Brandon, and the way her old, predictable life had joined with his to create something new and beautiful.
Finally, Sara felt she couldn’t delay any longer and told Brandon what had happened. He didn’t take it as she expected. Instead of expressing anger or disappointment, he wrapped her in a bear hug and held tight until Sara’s shoulders unwound enough to drop below her ears.
She and Brandon reviewed the possibilities of where the bracelet could have detached from her wrist, retracing their steps from when they woke to the moment she discovered the bracelet missing.
Brandon, always the problem solver, suggested she post in the Lost & Found section of Front Porch Forum—the neighborhood digital bulletin board.
“People are always posting about their lost dogs, so why not post about a lost bracelet?” he asked.
Sara laughed at the idea. “And what do I say, exactly? ‘Lost: 18k gold bracelet. High financial and sentimental value?’ Who would return this bracelet? I’m not even sure I would.”
Brandon looked at Sara pointedly. “Yes, you would. Write the post. Trust in the Valley.”
* * *
Hands poised over the keyboard, Sara was uncertain what to type. How much sentimental detail was appropriate to share with an anonymous audience? In the end, she kept the post simple:
Lost gold bracelet, likely in Mehuron’s parking lot or anywhere along the Bobbin Mill Trail. Reward and eternal gratitude if returned.
“Here goes nothing,” she thought as she hit ‘send.”
“Did you do it?” Brandon asked her later that morning. When she assured him she had, he gave a slight nod to his head in that endearing way he had that indicated all was right with the world.
“Great,” he said. “Now we wait for the Valley to work its magic.”
“Ha,” was all Sara could manage. She appreciated Brandon’s sunny optimism, but she was more of a realist. Still, throughout the rest of that Saturday and Sunday, she found herself opening her email more often than usual, hoping for a response to her post.
***
Ben couldn’t believe it when he saw the post. But then again, if he’d lost something so valuable, he’d have done the same. A shot in the dark, for sure, but you’d have to try. And, it had worked. He’d seen the post. The question was, had Penny, his wife?
***
Penny held her wrist into the swath of sunlight streaming through the sunroom windows. She loved how the rich gold of the metal glowed against her dark skin and sat so comfortably on her wrist. It was a substantial piece of gold. Weighty. And so far removed from anything she’d ever expected to own that it almost took her breath away.
She and Ben had been walking Sargent, their beagle rescue, on the Bobbin Mill Trail. A favorite destination for all of them, the mile-long path meandered alongside a tributary of the Mad River and ended at a wooden bench swing set out on a little spit. Penny never failed to feel grateful to the landowners who allowed them and the rest of the public “in the know” access to this special place.
About a half-mile down the path, Sargent had run ahead and stood at the water’s edge, barking at picnickers seated on a rock in the middle of the stream.
“Sorry. Sorry.” Penny laughed as she lunged for Sargent’s collar. “He’s loud but harmless.” When she leaned down to attach the leash, she saw two gold half-ovals partially buried in the dirt and leaves. Gingerly, she picked up both pieces and then saw a tiny gold screw, which she pinched between her thumb and index finger and placed in her palm. After studying the construction of the bracelet, she searched for a second screw to no avail.
“You won’t believe what I found,” she said as she rejoined Ben on the main trail and held out her hand to reveal the treasure within.
***
Ben had a fitful weekend, wavering about telling Penny about the Lost & Found post he’d seen. He saw how she looked at the bracelet and had to smile at the delight she’d had showing the bracelet to the staff at Bisbee’s Hardware, helping them devise a makeshift second fastener until Ben could order a replacement screw. God knew how much that tiny screw would cost. He hoped it wasn’t solid gold, but judging by the look of the bracelet, it most likely was.
But still, the bracelet gave Penny so much delight. Surely, he could splurge for a tiny gold screw. There was no way he’d ever be able to buy Penny anything close to that bracelet—not on his EMT salary or even when factoring in Penny’s income as a social worker. They loved and worked hard at their jobs but set aside every spare dollar for a house and, one day, they both hoped, kids.
***
Penny likely wouldn’t have seen Sara’s post, not with the busy weekend she and Ben had enjoyed. But at work on Monday, she showed off her bracelet and shared the story of her spectacular find with a group of colleagues as they sat in the break room.
Jennifer, the quiet intern helping with their summer marketing campaigns, spoke up.
“I read something about a bracelet on Front Porch Forum over the weekend. It was in the Lost & Found section.”
Jennifer didn’t add, “You should read it.” Or “I can send you the post.” But as soon as she said it, Penny knew. Of course, Jen was right. As much as she loved the bracelet, even with the temporary wire holding the two sections secure, she knew the bracelet wasn’t meant for her.
Penny wrapped up the rest of her sandwich and returned to her desk. With a heavy heart, she opened her laptop and scrolled through unread emails from the weekend. Sure enough, there was a Front Porch Forum posting from 4:42 on Saturday afternoon that she’d overlooked.
She read Sara’s post and then reread it. She held out her wrist and admired the bracelet one final time before crafting an email in response.
“I think I have your bracelet,” she wrote. And then hit send.