The customer who knew the stone

A woman came into the shop yesterday holding up a photo on her phone: her late mother's pendant, lost in a move years ago. A big flash of blue labradorite in a hammered silver bezel. She'd been to every shop between here and Santa Fe looking for something similar.

I said I was sorry, I didn't think I had anything like it. Then I remembered a box from an estate sale I hadn't even sorted yet. Third thing I pulled out: a labradorite pendant in a hammered silver bezel.

Not the same one. She checked the back for her mother's initials and they weren't there. But it was close enough that she sat down on my little stool and cried, and I sat on the floor next to her.

I gave it to her. Some stones aren't for sale.