Chapter 5 Derek
DEREK
My pulse thunders in my ears as I watch Darcy’s face.
Her eyes widen and her lips part, but I don’t see any anger in her expression, only surprise.
“He likes you a lot,” I tell her. “It will make him happy to think I’ll have you in my life. And I want this time to be happy for him.”
I cut myself off right there. I won’t get emotional in front of her. I won’t guilt her into this.
Is it any better to bribe her?
“Here’s what I propose,” I begin before I have time to question myself too much.
Her lip twitches and I’m so keyed up that it takes me a second to realize she’s laughing at me.
“Here’s what you propose?” she echoes, her eyes dancing.
All of a sudden I feel a little better about all of this. If she can handle it with a sense of humor then I should be able to do the same.
She lets herself really smile and the sight of her dimples popping speeds up my heart rate all over again.
“I’m going to head down to the village,” I tell her. “I’ll buy you the biggest diamond ring they’ve got. You wear it in front of my grandfather, and when we get back to New York you can hock it. Consider it a Christmas bonus for going above and beyond the call of duty.”
She only blinks at me.
Is she worried about the price out here in the sticks?
“Believe me,” I tell her. “It will be worth something. They have quality shops here for the city people.”
I can tell she’s still hesitating a little.
Something occurs to me, and it makes my stomach turn.
“Is there someone in your life who would be upset if word of this got back to them?” I ask her.
“No,” she says right away. “Definitely not.”
I shouldn’t feel as relieved as I do at this information.
And I shouldn’t be surprised either. She works from sunrise until I leave the office at night. When would she even have time to date?
That should make me feel guilty, but it sends a shiver of possessiveness through me instead.
I guess I need to get out of the office more myself. Then maybe I wouldn’t keep having these inappropriate feelings about my right-hand woman.
“We can supplement with cash,” I tell her, getting myself back on track. “If that would convince you.”
“No,” she says quickly. “That’s not necessary. I’ll do it.”
Relief washes over me. I don’t think most people get this happy when someone accepts a real proposal.
“Thank you, Darcy,” I tell her, taking her hands. They’re so small and soft compared to mine, and for a second I have the urge to lift one to my lips.
“It’s not a problem,” she says brightly.
The reply feels like a smack in the face, bringing me back to reality. This isn’t something personal. She’s doing a job for pay, just like always.
“I’m going to go check on him,” I tell her. “Then I’ll head down to the village.”
“I’ll stay right here and get started pushing your schedule out,” she says, reaching for her bag again.
“Are you ever away from that laptop?” I hear myself ask.
“Not if I can help it,” she tells me as she unpacks. “It’s my job to handle this stuff whenever you need it. You know that.”
It’s literally what I said to her the day I hired her. It’s just that right now I feel the weight of the responsibility I put on her slim shoulders, and it doesn’t feel so great. Surely she has dreams of her own—personal and professional.
“Everything okay?” she asks me.
“Yeah,” I say, getting up. “See you later.”
“See you later,” she echoes, her face already fixed on the screen, fingers dancing gracefully across the keys.
Shaking off my weird feelings, I head back out to the lounge.
Grandpa Michael isn’t on the couch anymore, but the lady at the desk gives me a smile that’s probably meant to be flirty and points me toward the hallway that leads back to the rooms.
The very first one on the right is open and my grandfather is sitting in the bed.
It’s a small room but it’s neat and tidy. It has the bed of course, a little bedside table, a television on the wall, and a small café table where old Doc Waterson is sitting and chatting with Grandpa.
The doctor gives me a wave when he sees me and my grandfather turns to me, looking much more cheerful than before. The color is back in his cheeks.
“This is nice,” I say, pretending to look around even though it took me about half a second to take it all in. “Jake Stone told me you’d be here. I guess you’re right, they really can’t spare you.”
Grandpa barks out a laugh at that and my heart settles.
“Well, what are you doing here, son?” Doc Waterson asks me. “Don’t you want to take your girlfriend for a romantic carriage ride or something?”
“I was just going to run a quick errand in the village,” I say. “If you’re good, Grandpa?”
Before he can reply, Maddie Foster—I guess it’s Stone now—pops her head in the door.
“Special visitor,” she says, just before a little boy runs in.
“Hi,” he says to my grandfather. “We had a half-day at school so I’m home early and you can read me a story because you’re taking time off work.”
“That’s fantastic, boy,” Grandpa tells him. “Go get us a good one.”
The boy scampers off and Maddie watches after him fondly.
“My son Dylan,” she says when she catches me looking. “He’s the light of my life.”
I nod, suddenly missing Judi-Bloom like crazy. I always miss her, now more than ever since she’s been away for so long. But she’s a super smart kid and I work so much. When she got into that science school I couldn’t say no.
But I think maybe for a long time she was keeping me from drowning in my own darkness and I didn’t even realize it until she was gone. Now she barely even remembers to call me.
I guess that’s a good thing. It means she’s happy.
“Off you go, boy,” Grandpa says, rousing me from my own thoughts. “Maybe I’ll see you two later this afternoon.”
I head out through the lounge. There are guests here now—kids are playing with the miniature Christmas village at the center of the lounge while the adults sit on the sofas chatting or helping the little ones write letters to Santa that they’ll put in the mailbox with the candy cane striped post that’s near the front desk.
I don’t make eye contact with anyone, hoping no one will slow me down from taking the first step to enact my definitely well thought out idea of a plan.
I don’t like lying to my grandfather. I don’t like lying to anyone really. I pride myself on being a straight shooter.
But seeing him at peace at the end of his life will be worth me feeling a little uncomfortable. This isn’t the kind of lie that hurts anyone.
Except maybe me, if I let myself forget it’s a lie…
But I won’t. I can’t.
It’s freezing outside and somehow even colder in the SUV. I start it up and pull out onto the winding road that leads down the mountain and back into town, not waiting for the heat to kick in.
Second thoughts begin to circle again, so I tap the button for the stereo and I’m instantly surrounded by a choir singing “Carol of the Bells.” I’m a music lover and this is my favorite Christmas song, so I bump up the volume and let it wash over me as I continue down the mountain with the view of snowy trees out the window.
The little town stretches down Celestial Lane, which winds around the curves of Angel Mountain following the creek all the way out to Angel Lake.
When I was a kid, my grandpa would sometimes put a few dollars in my hand while he drank coffee at the diner with his friends.
I would wander down Celestial Lane, stopping to play at the park, buy ring pops at the general store, and step into the cool, shadowy halls of the Lenni Lenape Museum, where Paula Littlewolf, the older lady who volunteered as curator, would show visiting children displays of Native American tools and clothing, as well as the incredible miniature Native American town behind a glass wall that you could see from both sides if you took the winding trip through the whole museum.
Just half a block from that museum I remember a nice jewelry store.
I’ve obviously never been inside—I didn’t have much use for jewelry that you couldn’t eat back then—but I assume that now that we have city people moving into the chalets they’ve got some inventory along the lines of what I’d like to give to Darcy.
I feel another pang of guilt that I don’t even know what she’ll spend the windfall on when she sells it again.
I’ve been picking up clues for years, and until yesterday I would have said I know everything about her.
Now I have to admit that I only know everything about her that she wants me to know.
How can you spend all your time with someone, admire them and rely on them, and still not know anything about their dreams?
But Darcy’s job is to tend to my wishes, and she’s so good at it that she’s actually made it hard for me to know what her own wishes are.
As I park in front of the jewelry store—thankfully still there, I push the wandering thoughts out of my mind. I have a job to do and I need to focus on that right now.
A sign hanging outside says Bells and Baubles, and there’s a beautiful Christmas display in the front window.
“How may I help you?” a pretty middle-aged lady asks pleasantly when I walk in.
She comes out from behind the counter to greet me, wearing a flowing dress with a tailored vest. A pair of reading glasses hangs around her neck on a pearl chain.
For some reason, I instantly trust her.
“I’m looking for the biggest diamond engagement ring you’ve got,” I tell her honestly.
“A big stone?” she asks. “Or a young lady with a generous finger?”
Fair question.
“Big stone, regular finger,” I reply. “I want something that will knock her socks off.”
“Excellent,” the lady says. “My name is Marion. Let me walk you through our inventory.”
We head back through the cases of gemstone rings and bracelets to the lit counter where she was standing when I came in.
“These are the most beautiful rings we have,” Marion tells me, pointing to a golden stand that’s made to look like a tree branch glittering with diamonds. “All of these pieces have large carat weights, with excellent cut, color, and clarity.”
I’m no expert, but they do look nice—exactly the kind of ring a guy in my financial position might reasonably propose with.
But I really want to show Darcy that I understand that what she’s doing for me is a really big deal.
And for that, I need something unreasonable.
“These are nice,” I allow. “And I’m definitely looking for quality. But I’m also looking for something gigantic. Something you can see from outer space, ideally.”
Marion’s eyebrow arches suspiciously, like maybe I’m just trying to get my hands on the biggest ring in the place so I can snatch the thing and make a break for it.
“I can show you my bank balance if it makes you feel better,” I offer.
“It’s not that,” she says. “Hang on.”
She disappears into the back and I wonder if she’s judging me for wanting such a big ring. Maybe it’s like being a guy with a giant truck—she thinks I’m trying to compensate for something?
A moment later she’s back with a pink box in her hand that looks almost too big to be a ring box.
Perfect.
“This just came in,” she tells me. “But it may be a better fit for a lady with a larger hand.”
“Let’s have a look,” I offer.
Marion opens the box and I feel like that guy in Indiana Jones whose face gets melted off when they open the lost ark.
Inside is a ring with two massive sparkling stones. Each one would practically cover the width of Darcy’s finger on its own. In order to fit on the same ring, they’re stacked above and below each other. I honestly don’t know if she will be able to bend her finger with this ring on it.
“And those are real diamonds?” I ask.
“Yes, sir,” she says. “You’ll know it by the price.”
She names an amount that would probably be enough to buy one of those chalets up on the mountain.
“Perfect,” I tell her, amazed that anyone in their right mind would purchase this ring for its intended purpose, but knowing that selling these stones later will change Darcy’s life.
“She’s a lucky girl,” the lady murmurs.
But I know that I’m really the lucky one here.
I could buy Darcy a ring like this for each finger and it still wouldn’t be what she deserves.