Chapter 44
DENALI
METAL PROTOTYPES
I had a surprise for Zariah between our playoff games, the perfect time to take the afternoon off.
We drove out to Gary Peterson’s Welding and Miscellaneous Repairs, a small shop operating out of a guy’s house.
His grass was littered with gadgets acting as odd-looking lawn decorations, welcoming people inside.
“Oh my god.” Zariah whistled, inspecting a clock that looked like it’d thrown up cogs on itself. “Hersch would’ve loved this place.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I thought so too.”
I knocked on the door and a voice shouted behind it, “It’s unlocked!”
The entryway was even more crammed with metal crap. Devices hung over us, timers haphazardly blared without meaning, and everyday appliances that couldn’t possibly be usable anymore were scattered around. Zariah threw me an amused glance, and I motioned her into Gary’s office.
Gary sat on a rocking chair, fiddling with a toaster. Beaming, he motioned us to sit on the couch in front of his desk. “Good afternoon!”
“Hi.” Zariah waved. “I’m Zariah.”
“You’re the owner of the typewriter!”
“Mm-hmm, that’s me.”
“The worst typewriter I’ve ever seen, broken and in disarray, a typewriter that—”
“I wanted to show her that it’s being taken care of,” I interrupted. Gary already explained how damaged the typewriter was, I didn’t need to hear the tirade again, and I didn’t want my girlfriend’s feelings getting hurt.
Zariah sighed. “I took it on an airplane. And then it was waterboarded.”
“I won’t lie to you, I’m replacing most of the parts, but I understand there’s sentimental value.
” Gary dug around in the bottom of his desk and produced a small can of paint.
“I’ll be painting it to recapture that wear-and-tear vintage texture and color.
On a fundamental level? It won’t be the same machine.
But the only ones who will know that will be you, me, and the floorboards. ” He paused, sheepish. “And my wife.”
She flushed. “It’ll look the same?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Zariah’s sparkling dark eyes flickered my way. “So…how much is this costing him?”
“I’ve been told not to say.”
“You have, huh?” She watched me, waiting for the inevitable answer. “Alaska?”
“I dipped into my retirement account,” I admitted.
I expected Zariah to admonish me for it. When we were kids, she was embarrassed when I paid for things, and I had to explain to her that my dad forced me to do shifts at his business. I had the cash anyway and wanted to spend it on her.
But Zariah’s smile was so breathtaking, it made my heart skip a beat. She cozied up to me on the couch, weaving her fingers through mine. “Thank you, baby.”
Satisfaction pulsed through me, hot in my blood. Paying for something for her and seeing her happiness in real time because of me was dangerously close to a turn-on. I shifted closer, flushed. “Whatever you want.”
She squeezed my hand, resting her cheek against my arm.
“Anything you want,” I found myself saying. “However you want it.”
“Because the repairs will be so extensive,” Gary interjected, “there will be quite a bit of scrap metal.”
“I’d like to keep that,” Zariah said.
“Well, you could, sure, but…” Gary rifled through his desk, producing a ring of laminated papers.
“My wife is a crafter. Sometimes when people have excess scrap metal with me, they go to her. We offer a great discount.” He flipped through the pages.
“She does small sculptures, bracelets…” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Engagement rings…”
It took me a moment to connect what he said while Zariah quickly glanced up at me, her eyes wide. “What?”
“No, no, no,” I said as fast as I could. “I didn’t ask him to say that.”
“Say what?” Gary frowned. “Engagement rings?”
“We’re in college.” Zariah’s mouth fell open. “We’re not getting married.”
“Yeah, we’re not—” My voice sounded lame, even to me. “Nope.”
“That’d be insane.” A blush spread across her skin. “Our families would literally kill us! Elijah would kill you.”
“I know,” I assured her, ears burning. “I know, yeah.”
It didn’t exactly feel fantastic for my girlfriend to react so negatively to the idea of marriage, but that anxiety was dredged up from deep inside.
She wasn’t trying to hurt me. If I thought about it the right way—in an unbiased and unprejudiced way—Zariah was right.
With our history and how long we’d been in a real relationship again, marriage was out of the question.
Which made sense—if it wasn’t such a punch in the gut to hear.
Because I had a very different reaction. The moment I realized what Gary was talking about, the fantasy became all too real—Zariah with my engagement ring on her hand.
But I couldn’t think like that. Not with the stunned look on her face.
“I understand.” Gary shrugged, folding his hands over the papers. “So you don’t want to see the prototypes.”
“No,” I said, my voice firm. “We don’t.”
“Prototypes?” Zariah repeated.
“For the engagement rings?” Gary said. “We have several examples. One of our couples built a car together and he used some of the excess metal to melt an engagement ring for his fiancée.”
The stiffness in Zariah’s shoulders disappeared. She blinked. “Oh.”
“She loved it.”
“Um…anyone would. That’s really cute. That’s feeling,” Zariah said, almost to herself. “That’s script-worthy.”
“But…” Gary put the papers back in his drawer. “You don’t want to see the prototypes, so…”
“We don’t,” I said instantly.
Zariah paused. “Well…”
I remained silent, surprised at the weird, buzzing sensation that seemed to surround Zariah. Her fingers twitched along the couch, restless. Nobody said anything for a few moments.
“We’re not interested in engagement rings,” she said. “But…I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing them.”
Gary slid the papers our way, flipping to page eight. The page.
Zariah and I leaned forward and she sucked in a breath. I completely understood. I’d never been a jewelry guy before—I didn’t even wear the Gladiator band when Cleo handed those out—but the rings were undeniably beautiful.
They were thicker than I was expecting, with intricate metallic designs.
Gary reached over to tap the examples. “My wife and I stayed up talking last night about this. The iron-gray of the typewriter will look lovely. Now, a couple of the typewriter keys are beyond saving. Those would be melted down for a gold band around the middle.”
Zariah pulled the papers closer until they were inches from her face. “Oh.”
It was a dream I didn’t allow myself to think of often. I was determined to be grateful for the present, but it was hard not to daydream of our future. When Zariah would be at my hockey games with my jersey on her back and my ring on her finger.
Zariah traced one of the designs. “How long would this take?”
“A couple of weeks.”
“Wow, that’s fast. Um…it’s expensive, isn’t it?”
“More than the typewriter,” he chuckled, throwing a knowing glance my way.
My wallet burned from my back pocket. I’d have to give my bank another call, to ask how much I could expand my daily limit to, but I’d do it in a heartbeat. All Zariah had to do was say the word. Bouncing my heel against the floor, I watched her eyes drift down the page.
“So…” Gary smiled. “Would you like me to start the paperwork?”
“Start the…?” Zariah stared for long seconds until she snapped out of the trance. She pushed up to a standing position. “I—uh—” Gathering her coat, she handed me the laminated papers. “I’m sorry—”
I watched her head to the door, confused. “Zariah?”
“I—I’ll be right back.”
I couldn’t believe it when the front door closed behind her. Was she really that uncomfortable? Did she think I was trying to pressure her or that I planned this? Outside, I found Zariah by my car. She turned around, arms folded over her chest.
“Riah,” I called to her, picking up the pace. “Hey—”
“Denali, I—” She was breathing heavily. “I don’t—”
“Come here.” I pulled her to me, and she threw her arms around my neck, burying her face in my chest. I squeezed her tight. “I didn’t ask him to say any of that stuff, I didn’t bring you here to—”
“I know you didn’t.”
“Oh. Good.”
Her laugh was sudden and high-pitched. “Because you can’t lie worth shit.”
Relief hit me, and I kissed her hair twice. “You don’t have to come back. I’ll pick up the typewriter solo. I promise, I’m not expecting anything. We’re not on a timeline. No engagement rings. We’re going at your pace.”
She sighed. “That’s not the problem, Denali.”
“What’s the problem?”
“I want the ring.”
I fell into silence, gazing at the pebble path leading to Gary’s front door. The good kind of tension rolled in like a fog, blanketing us, mixed with indecision. Of what to say, of how to respond.
I willed my heart to slow down. This wasn’t up to me. I couldn’t blurt out what I wanted. I had to listen.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Zariah whispered. “I want the ring. That’s what’s so scary.”
I rubbed her back, letting her take her time before she spoke again.
“We’re not getting married right now,” she said quickly. “I don’t want to figure out new taxes, I definitely don’t want to change my name. I can’t even imagine how I’d talk to my family about it, I’m—I’m not ready for that.”
“I know, baby,” I said. “It’s okay.”
“But…”
The single word lingered between us, and I took a deep breath. “Zariah…we don’t have to call it an engagement ring.”
Her hair cascaded along my hands as she leaned back to gaze up at me. She was so pretty, even with the dumbfounded expression at my remark. “Be serious.”
“I am serious.”
“We’re getting matching rings for fun?” Her lips twitched and I finally earned a smile from her. “Who’s going to believe that?”
“We don’t have to get two.”
“No—”
“It’d be easier to explain.”
“These are matching rings from my typewriter.” She touched my chest. “This wouldn’t be just jewelry. It’d be something that links us. They’d be ours.”
My mouth ran dry at the thought. Ours. Something that tied us together. It’d be a constant reminder, too, right there on my hand. And when I’d have to take it off during games, I could wear it around my neck.
I tried to push down the excitement, but it seared something deep inside, making it hard to stay calm.
God, I wanted to agree so bad. I wanted to swipe my card, to say fuck it and pay for the expedited work. But I forced myself to take deep, calming breaths.
Instead of thinking about what I wanted, I did my best to think about what Zariah needed. This was a step we’d never taken before, and maybe it was one she was making on a whim. I didn’t want her to regret this later. I refused to be a bad memory for her ever again.
“I think this is a big decision, Zariah. How about we’ll talk about this tomorrow?”
She searched my face. “I don’t understand.”
“We should talk about it some more. Maybe sleep on it.”
“You can’t tell me you don’t want the rings too.”
I paused for too long. “It’s not about what I want.”
“I…oh.” Her eyes widened. “You’re saying this for me.”
I didn’t have a good reply. I touched her chin, drawing my fingers along her jaw. Of course I wanted to order those rings. There were very few things I wanted more, but the woman who outranked everything happened to be standing in front of me.
“I’d do anything for you,” I finally said.
“This isn’t helpful, Denali,” she mumbled. “You listening to me and being careful with my boundaries, is not convincing me to say no to an engagement ring.”
Warmth spread through my chest, it was hard not to grin. “You don’t have to say anything today. Let’s go home, baby.”
Zariah pulled me for another hug, but this one was different. Her fingers played on the back of my neck, sliding along my skin until goosebumps rose. Her words were soft in my ear. “Thank you for fixing my typewriter.”
“Of course,” I murmured.
“I’m not ready to get married yet. I’m not,” she confessed. “But…when I am ready for the engagement rings, these are the ones I want.”