48. The Ring
48
THE RING
REX
“Jameson,” I greeted my buddy as I took a seat next to Brooks at his wine bar. “This guy giving you trouble?”
“If I serve him one more, he’ll pass out for sure. He’s been here since five,” he said, drying off a few wine glasses. “I’m tired of seeing his mopey ass.”
A peek at Brooks’ phone in his hands beside me revealed the social media posts of Maisy and her professor looking friendly, the same ones Chelsea showed me on the couch. Only to Chelsea, the photos seemed harmless. With Brooks, I could tell how he might read too much into them.
“What are you doing? Stalking Maisy?” I joked, nudging his elbow with mine.
“Look at her with him. Does she look happier with him than when she was with me?”
“No. You’re seeing things. These are just professional photos between coworkers.” I lied .
“I wasn’t planning to do this. But shit, Rex, I fell for her.” He swiped through the photos, one after the other. “I thought I was being a gentleman, not taking her virginity. But now, that’s all I do, obsess night and day that someone else is going to claim her and take it. Like this asshole professor. He does not look like a gentleman.”
I kept it to myself, but one look at the guy in the photos and I had to agree.
“Fuck, she’s ruined me, Rex.”
“Must be some sort of hereditary disease between you and Archer that makes the two of you pine away like little babies for someone you can’t have.” I snorted, recalling all the years Archer wasted on his ex each time they broke up.
“Are you saying it wouldn’t eat away at your soul if Chelsea left you?”
My jaw clenched at the thought. Suddenly, the glint from something next to me took my attention away from my brooding friend.
The man sitting to my right held a ring between his thumb and forefinger, staring at it with a grin. I squinted and leaned in for a closer look.
“Holy shit,” I exclaimed aloud.
“Yeah, nice ring, eh?” The man chortled, not quite boasting, more like proud.
Momentarily, I was tongue tied. That was my ring, I was certain of it, custom made for Chelsea. The one I threw off the rooftop the night I proposed a marriage of convenience to her. When she turned me down and left me there, I threw the ring out into the night. Only then did I realize that all the money in the world couldn’t buy my happiness. But I sure as shit wanted that ring back now.
“Yeah. A beauty. Uh, mind if I look at it closer?” I motioned with my palm up.
Warily, he held it up closer to my eyes, unwilling to part with it all the way to a stranger like me. I couldn’t blame him, knowing how much the ring cost.
“Who’s your jeweler?” I figured I’d trap him first, then break it to him that this ring was mine.
“That’s a funny story, right there.” He took out a blue velvet box and deposited the ring into it, closing the lid shut, and cupping his hand over it on the bar. “I was down on my luck. Lost my job. In debt up to my ears. The woman I loved wanted more from me than I could give her, and I fought with her, losing her in the process.”
He sipped his wine and continued. “Then one night, I walked the streets of New York, depressed, heartbroken…hell, even thinking of ending it all. When something hit me in the head. This ring. I don’t know where it came from, just out of the blue hits me here—” He motioned on the crown of his slightly balding head, where a small scar existed.
My jaw literally hit the floor hearing this. No doubt, it had to be mine.
“Clear as a gift from an angel above, it fell to the sidewalk with a bell-like sound. I picked it up and looked it over, and the first thought I had, for the first time in weeks, was Believe in Second Chances . I tell you, it was the strangest experience. But what happened next was even more surprising.”
By now, he had me completely invested in the story, and Brooks as well. I urged him to go on. “What happened?”
“I could have pawned the ring?—”
I nearly choked on my sip of wine when he said that.
“—But the next day, my old employer called. He said without me, he’d lost business, so he hired me back with a hefty raise. Then, I moved to a new and better apartment. Got my act together, started working out, eating right, drinking less.” He grinned and shoved away his wine glass, still half full. “And finally, I got back in touch with my darling Penelope. I groveled, begged, got down on both knees, told her I was wrong about everything, and how I was glad she had turned me down because she deserved better.”
“Did she take you back?” Brooks asked, as if this man’s story might give him hope.
“Yep. Would you believe it? She gave me a second chance. Every day since then, I’ve been trying to improve myself because I never forgot what it was like to lose her. I want to be the man she deserves. We’re madly in love, and our relationship is better than it ever was before. And now…”
He sighed and opened the box, staring at the ring. “Tonight I’m asking her again. A second chance, with this ring, to have her marry me. This has been my lucky charm, and I want her to wear it forever. What do you think? Will she say yes?”
I couldn’t believe his story, almost enraged by it, but then again…Chelsea would adore it, knowing this man had another chance at love because of us. My bride would probably cry all kinds of ugly tears knowing this ring found its way to making another couple happy.
I guess maybe my money would make someone happy after all.
“Hell, yes. How could she not? With a man like you and a ring like that? She’d be a fool to turn you down.” I snapped my fingers in the air. “Hey, Jameson. I know this is a wine bar, but do you have champagne? We need to toast this gentleman.”
“Oh, really, that’s not necessary,” the man balked.
“I insist. I can’t tell you how much your story has touched my heart, truly. In fact, I’m getting married too. This Christmas, to a woman who changed me for the better.”
Brooks scoffed to my left and muttered under his breath. “Two lucky fucking bastards.”
“Well then, if you insist,” the man said. “We’ll toast to our good fortune. But we’ll have to make it quick. I have a dinner reservation and a proposal ahead of me tonight.”
Jameson opened the bottle and poured. I held my glass up. “A toast for continued luck, success and love.”
“Here, here,” Brooks said, and sniffled beside me, his drunk ass a hot mess at this turn of events. “That was beautiful, man. I want that. The marriage, the wife, the whole damn thing. I never did before, but now? What do I have, some kind of internal clock ticking?”
I couldn’t blame him. Chelsea turned me the same way. Once I opened my eyes and heart, I knew I had to spend forever with her. But I hated seeing Brooks torn up this way. He shook his head while continuing the torment to his eyes and heart over the photos of Maisy on his phone. I yanked it out of his hands.
“First of all, maybe stop ogling the photos of her and stop spying on her social media. There’s no sense in it. She won’t be back for months.”
“She’ll be back for your wedding at Christmas.” He pointed out, siphoning his last sip of wine and taking up the full glass of champagne the bartender set in front of him.
“Oh. Shit. Right.” If he caused a scene at the wedding, neither Miriam nor Chelsea would forgive him.
“I’m going to apologize right now, buddy, because I might not be there. I can’t watch Maisy be there with this guy at the wedding. Tell your mom there’ll be two extra places at the table without me.”
“Goddammit, you’re not messing with the head count and the seating arrangement. Not only did you agree to do a bible reading during the ceremony, Mom’s formal dining room is starting to look like a war room with charts on the wall and schematics for guest seating. She’ll have a fit if you pull out. We counted you in for two, you and a plus one, so you’re coming to the wedding, and that’s final.”
“There’s not a single soul I’d bring to the wedding as a plus one if it’s not Maisy.”
“Bring the plus one. I don’t care who it is. It’ll either help keep your mind off of Maisy, or make her jealous you’re there with someone else.” The wedding suddenly had red flags all over it where Brooks was concerned. I could see this ending badly for him.
“Okay, sure. I’ll start looking at other women again. Because I haven’t been able to since she left.”
A waitress stopped by with a tray of hors d’oeuvres, a pretty woman with her light brown hair in a bun. “Can I interest you in anything?”
“Yes, I’d like your phone number. I need a date for a Christmas wedding. Are you available?” Brooks hardly looked at her, and took out his phone and opened his calendar, like scheduling a business meeting.
“Ignore him, and I think we’ve had enough champagne.” I put our glasses on her nearly empty tray and turned to the man on my right with my ring to say goodbye, but he’d already left, taking my ring with him.
“Shit.” I would like to have stayed in touch with him. Sent him and his new wife a wedding gift. Maybe even invited him to our wedding.
I thought of the ring he held now, and how strange the entire situation was, how I threw away something so valuable. But what I ended up with was something priceless in my love and future with Chelsea.
“Come on, Brooks. Let me take you home.” I slapped his back.
“I’m not ready yet.”
“Oh yes, you are. You’re drunk off your ass.”
“One more drink,” the heavy lug begged, but I managed to shift him off the stool and held onto him as we shuffled out the door.
“Gotta get your act together, man. Get over Maisy,” I tried to talk sense into him, but he probably wouldn’t remember it by the morning. Besides, I knew all too well what it was like loving one of the Calhoun sisters. They were hard to forget.