Harold folded his hands in his lap, exactly like Christy did. “I don’t know why I’m trying to intimidate you.”
“Habit?”
“Maybe,” he admitted. “But if I give you permission, I’d like a favor in return. No, belay that.” He studied me and then nodded once, decisively. “All right, you can marry Birdy.”
I waited for the other shoe to drop.
“You have my blessing.”
I still couldn’t believe it, so I held my breath.
Harold eyed me with growing amusement.
I finally broke. “Seriously? That’s it?”
“That’s it,” he agreed. “Although… now that I’ve said yes, I’d like to discuss that favor.”
“Anything!”
He laughed. “Wait till you hear before you agree.”
“Are you kidding? Do you really think I’d say no?”
“Well, then… I should press the advantage.” He paused and finished seriously, “I want you to wait.”
“I— I’m sorry… What?”
“You heard me. But let me put it another way, more politely. Please don’t rush into it.”
“Why not?” I eyed him suspiciously.
He actually laughed. “No, not because I think she’ll change her mind,” he said. “We both know she won’t. She’s too darn stubborn. And she loves you. Any fool can see that, even an old one.”
“Then… what do you want?”
“Just what I said. Don’t rush into it. You can ask her to marry you, but don’t plan the wedding just yet. Please.” He reached for his drink and sipped to cover an emotion I couldn’t read. At first I thought it was embarrassment, but I couldn’t imagine about what.
“I wouldn’t normally ask,” he continued after a moment. “But… these are special circumstances.” He cleared his throat, and I was sure—he was embarrassed.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I said.
“No, no. I owe you an explanation. I don’t normally talk about money, but…” He squared his shoulders and faced it head-on. “We bought another piece of property. In Meeks Bay. It’s much nicer than the one we have. It’s right on the lake.”
“Tahoe?”
“Yes, sorry. It’s exactly what we want, so we jumped when it came on the market.” He cleared his throat again. “We used all of our available cash to pay for it.”
“Ah. And now you’re worried that we want an expensive wedding.”
He nodded.
“We don’t.”
“Then you don’t know Birdy,” he chuckled. “Or my wife.”
“Fair enough.”
“Son… Paul… we want to give you the wedding you deserve. But we need a little time to recover first.”
“Of course.”
“I wouldn’t ask, but…” he continued. “In light of your…” He cleared his throat and continued, “Your living arrangements—”
My eyebrows flew up.
“—you aren’t in a rush to…” He floundered. “Not like I was.”
I controlled my expression and kept my big mouth shut. Diplomatically, of course.
“So I’m asking you to wait. Only a year,” he added quickly. “Or until you graduate. That’s fair, isn’t it?” It was a request, not an order.
“Of course.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you understand.”
I gave him a pointed look. “I could say the same to you… about our ‘living arrangements.’”
He blinked in surprise, but I didn’t back down, which made him grin instead. “I think Birdy’s met her match.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so. And I believe this calls for a toast.”
He looked toward the kitchen and drew breath to call out.
Anne materialized in the doorway. “Yes, dear?”
“Ha! I should’ve known.” He looked at me. “Are you sure you want to sign up for this?”
“My mother asked Christy the same thing.”
He chuckled. “I can imagine what Birdy had to say about that.”
“She’s your daughter,” Anne agreed.
“Yours too.”
Her eyes crinkled with a smile. Then she glanced sideways, and Rich stepped into view.
“You heard?” his father asked him.
“Of course. What’s the point of eavesdropping if you don’t?”
“Son, I swear… you’re becoming more like Danny every day.”
“Someone has to. You’re too serious, and Mom’s too polite.”
Harold scoffed to show what he thought of that.
“Never thought I’d say this,” Rich said to me, “but congratulations. I’m happy for you. Welcome to the family.”
“Thanks, Rich. That means a lot.”
“Don’t think you’re out of danger, though. I’ll kill you if you hurt her—”
“Of course!” I laughed.
“—but… yeah. I’m happy for you. Happy for Birdy too.”
“Thank you.”
“You mentioned a toast?” Anne said into the silence.
“I believe I did.” Harold stood, and I followed suit. He poured the good stuff into fresh glasses and passed them around. “To Paul and Birdy. Sláinte.”
“Sláinte!”
Anne excused herself and returned with a small box, well kept but obviously old.
“This was my mother’s engagement ring,” she said. “She wants Christine to have it.”
The box was maroon leather with gold accents. I held it gently, afraid of what I’d find when I opened it. I imagined a plain gold ring with a tiny diamond solitaire, which was the last thing I wanted. But it had been Christy’s grandmother’s, so I’d be stuck with it. I decided to make the best of an awkward situation.
I pasted on a smile, opened the box, and felt my jaw go slack. I stared in mute astonishment, until my brain understood what my eyes were telling it.
The ring was platinum filigree Art Deco, with a matched pair of diamonds. They weren’t tiny, either. They were a respectable size, set together and surrounded by a dozen smaller stones that sparkled in the light. The jeweler’s name was printed in gold lettering on the lid’s silk lining.
Tiffany & Co., New York, Paris, London.
It was beautiful and unique, like Christy herself, but an irrational part of me wanted to object. I was supposed to pick out the ring myself. I was supposed to scrimp and save for months. I was supposed to buy the biggest diamond I could afford, a half-carat if I was lucky.
Instead, I’d been handed a two-carat family heirloom, and from Tiffany, no less! It was too much, and my conscience rebelled.
Fortunately, I came to my senses. Family was important to Christy, and she was her nana’s only granddaughter. The ring was a symbol that her family accepted me, too. Besides, it didn’t matter if I’d chosen it myself or even paid for it.
I dropped my silly objections. Then I locked them in a trunk for good measure. Finally, I shoved the whole thing into a deep, dark hole. With a Balrog. And a seriously pissed off wizard. They landed with a distant thud.
And stay there!
“It’s beautiful,” I said aloud. “Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome. You’re going to make her very happy.”
“I hope so.”
“Or else,” Rich warned.
Anne sighed.
“What? I’m just saying—”
“Do you want to see the ring Nana gave me for your fiancée?”
He closed his mouth and actually gulped.
“Mmm, I thought not.” She smiled winsomely, a vision of my future. “Would you open a bottle of champagne?” she asked him. “There’s some in the refrigerator. Thank you, dear.”
* * *
Dinner continued the celebration with wine, and we switched to champagne again with dessert. We returned to whiskey when we moved to the living room. Harold and Rich talked politics and the Navy, while Anne and I talked about her mother and late father, and how much she’d enjoyed meeting my parents.
A couple of hours later, she hugged me fondly and said goodnight. She’d drunk as much as the rest of us, but she was barely tipsy. I envied her metabolism. She told us not to stay up too late. Then she kissed her husband and son goodnight.