Treasure from Heaven

On our last night in Cuba, after watching the sunset from for Hotel Jagua Mom and I walked under the starless dark sky and into the hotel La Union entry.Before we could walk the ten yards past classical bronze statues of nude women reclining this way and that with their perpetually youthful bodies exposed by draping clothes that always seem to be falling off, someone called my name. Loudly.I didn't think I heard right, and then I heard it again, "Melissa Soldani!"It was the woman...
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On our last night in Cuba, after watching the sunset from for Hotel Jagua Mom and I walked under the starless dark sky and into the hotel La Union entry.Before we could walk the ten yards past classical bronze statues of nude women reclining this way and that with their perpetually youthful bodies exposed by draping clothes that always seem to be falling off, someone called my name. Loudly.I didn't think I heard right, and then I heard it again, "Melissa Soldani!"It was the woman behind the desk, the one with gorgeous tortoiseshell glasses and blonde hair.I look at her with a frown.I think I'm in trouble; I always do. it's my first instinct.And after what happened at the airport on Monday and what almost happened in Havana on Wednesday I had a pretty good reason to expect the worst.Maybe they read my book about my trip to Cienfuegos last year and read the part where I put a tiny piece of a palace down my bra, hoping to bring it home, water it and grow a new palace.I knew I shouldn't have left that book up there on the book rack, among the approved communist literature. Now I'm going to have to face the music.That's probably it, I'm probably going to rot in a Cuban jail for years to pay for one second of ebullient love for this city and it's history.I worry if there is clean water in prison, if I'd be cold or hot or have to sleep on stone.A voice in my head is mocking me, reminding me I should never have come to Cuba and now I won't be able to sleep in a bed every again and I won't have toothpaste or Spanx or cute wedges to wear and I'll never see Kitchen Nightmares or any shows on HBO ever again. And of course there isn't lipgloss and hair conditioner or even blowdryers in Cuban jails, so this is it, my life ends here.Another thought pushed through my mind to join the rest of the chatter, reminding me that I just bought my iPhone 5 less than a week ago; I have 2 years left on the contract and I won't get to hang out with it ever again.Siri, help me, I thought silently, knowing that Siri is powerless without the internet.I think to run back out of the hotel, back past the statues of frozen nudes and into the darkness but despite the weight of my stomach down in my knees I smiled broadly with pretend coolness and confidence and went straight to the desk.She said my name, again, perfectly and loudly. I wasn't imagining this.Melissa Soldani, THIS is for you.I look at my Mom quizzically asking her with my eyes if she knew anything about this at all and she shook her head just a tiny bit.The lady at the desk held out something small towards me and I instinctively opened my hand for her to put whatever it was in my palmOh my God. Oh, oh, wow, I said, staring at a huge flat emerald cut diamond that miraculous silently and effortlessly stalked me and found its way to me.I told her thank you, numbly, without asking what events transpired to bring this diamond to me.I wanted to ask who was behind it and why but instead it clasped it tightly in my hand like this was completely normal and walked slowly away, challenging every bit of what I'd seen and knew about Cuba.