Chapter 13 #2
“Home.” Ben sounded like he was in a trance. He coughed a few times. “That’s . . . that’s beautiful.”
“It is. And now Isaac Baker may have found it. Not just for me, but for Sadie.”
Ben looked off, like maybe he wasn’t feeling well. This time Vanessa took his hand, and his thumb seemed to accidentally brush
against her wedding ring. At the feel of it, he pulled his hand back and slid to the edge of the booth. “I’m sorry.” He smiled
at her, but something had changed. “Would you excuse me for a minute?”
“Of course.” The entire moment suddenly felt awkward. What happened? Vanessa didn’t know what to do. Had she overstepped by taking his hand? That’s when things seemed to change.
Ben stood and nodded to her. Then he hurried out the front door. Vanessa looked at her wedding ring and tried to imagine what
was going on in Ben’s head and why he had needed to leave so suddenly. Maybe it was her . . . or maybe it was him.
Maybe telling him the story had triggered old memories for him also. And perhaps that proved something he hadn’t known about
himself until right now. The idea that he wasn’t ready to love again.
No matter how great things had seemed ten minutes ago.
Ben’s heart was pounding out of his chest.
How could this have happened, and how come he hadn’t figured it out till now? He felt sick to his stomach, his knees weak.
He pulled his phone from his coat pocket and dialed his dad. “Please pick up . . . please.” The words came from a desperate
place in his soul. He paced to Old Town Square and back again.
He tried his dad twice more, but his phone only rang and rang. Tomorrow morning his dad would have sold the ring and that
would be that. He’d have the money and be booking a trip to Italy.
And Vanessa would never see her Christmas ring again.
His heart was still racing. What was he supposed to tell her? Certainly nothing would make sense to her any more than it made
sense to him. He had to get the ring back before tomorrow morning, and that meant just one thing.
His phone back in his coat pocket, Ben returned to the restaurant. Vanessa clearly knew something was wrong. Her expression
told him that much. He sat down and shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I was . . . This was the best time, but . . .” His mouth
was dry, his heart pounding. “I need to go back home. Tonight.”
“Ben?” Her eyes told him she didn’t know what to make of this. “Is it your dad?”
“He’s okay. It’s not that.” Ben couldn’t grab a full breath. “I’ll explain it to you later.” He took more than enough cash
from his wallet and left it on the table. “Can I take you home?”
“Of course.” Her tone, the look in her eyes . . . All of it was different. Like in a moment’s time the closeness between them was gone. “Let’s go.” She gathered her purse and slipped her coat on.
Ten minutes later Ben pulled up in front of her house. He had been planning to walk her inside at the end of this night. Ask
her if they could share a cup of coffee and maybe sit near her Christmas tree and talk.
Not anymore. He had to get to his father. Had to stop the sale before it was too late. He walked her to the front door and
took her hands in his. “I’m sorry. Really, Vanessa. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She looked like she was about to cry. “Did I do something? Say something?”
He couldn’t have felt worse if someone sucker punched him. “No, no.” He had no time to lose, but he had to make her understand
at least this much. “It’s not you. Believe me. It’s just . . . something I have to take care of back home.”
“Okay.” Her eyes welled up, but she managed a smile. “Will you come back tomorrow? For the dance?”
The dance. Ben’s heart sank to another level. “I don’t know.” It was the only honest answer he had. If his father went ahead with the
sale—and that was his right—Ben could hardly come back to Columbus and take her to the dance. “I promise I’ll explain this.
Soon.”
He hugged her goodbye, but their connection felt shallow, like nothing from the past week had happened at all.
Halfway to the interstate Ben tried his father again. Please, Lord, make him answer his phone. I need Your help. Please. Not until he was an hour into his trip did his dad pick up.
“Ben? What is it?” His father sounded worried. “I have eleven missed calls from you.”
“Yes. Dad. We need to talk.” Ben kept a tight grip on the wheel of his truck, his eyes on the road.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?” His dad’s tone relaxed. “Don’t tell me you’re asking for advice about women.” He chuckled.
“I’m far too old to help you there.”
“Dad, listen.” Ben tried to keep his tone even. “The ring . . . the one you’re selling. It belongs to Vanessa Mayfield.” He
barely paused to let that sink in. “It’s her ring, Dad. You can’t sell it.”
His father hesitated. “Son, you’re wrong. The ring she’s looking for, it’s costume jewelry. She told you so herself.”
“Someone gave her bad information. She didn’t know. She still doesn’t know.” He forced himself to stay calm. He had to make
his father understand. “Dad, it’s her ring. She and I were talking about it over dinner, and she went into more detail. It’s
been in her family for generations.”
“What in the world, son?” His dad rarely sounded upset, but he did now. “Why would you even think it could be hers? You know
how many rings are floating around out there? Thousands of rings in and out of antique shops all over the country every day.”
A sense of peace came over Ben. His dad still had the ring. He hadn’t sold it yet.
“I figured it out tonight.” Ben paused. “Her great-grandfather had the word Maison engraved on the inside of the band. Vanessa just told me.”
“Now wait a minute.” This time his father raised his voice.
“You’re definitely wrong about that, son.
I looked at it myself. With my glasses on.
” He spoke softer now, but the outrage remained.
“That ring is old and scratched, but it’s not engraved.
” He paused. “I’m selling it in the morning, and that’s that. God brought it to me and it’s mine.”
“Dad.” A new burst of panic pressed through Ben’s veins. How could this be happening? His father was always a reasonable man,
but not here. Not now. “What about the guy who’s been reaching out to Vanessa? I told you about him. Isaac Baker.”
“Exactly.” His father sounded vindicated. “He said he found the ring. So let him find it. The one I’m selling is an entirely
different piece.”
“No, Dad.” Ben exhaled. “Isaac said he believed the ring was at one of three antique stores in northern Georgia. That’s us.
Don’t you see? That’s Vanessa’s family ring. You can’t sell it.”
“Listen.” The conversation was over. His dad’s tone made that clear. “I’m sorry, son. You’re mistaken. I’ve been working at
the store, but I’m going home to get some sleep. I have a big meeting in the morning.” He hesitated. “Drive safely.”
Drive safely? “Can you at least—?”
His dad was gone. The call ended. “This can’t be happening.” Ben slumped in his seat and picked up his speed. “I need a miracle,
God. Please . . . open my dad’s eyes.”
He would get back to Marietta as quickly as he could, and he would be waiting for his dad out front of the store when he got
there. One way or another he would convince him.
Even if he had to buy the ring himself.