Chapter 20 Derek #2
“I’m a fan of pearls myself,” she says, indicating her pearl eyeglass chain. “And I think I have just the thing. Want to follow me?”
This time we stop closer to the front but away from the street windows, which tells me this won’t be an expensive trip.
“Do you have brothers and sisters?” Marion asks J.B.
“Uh, no,” J.B. replies.
Marion nods to herself mysteriously, pulls a key out of her pocket, and bends to open the glass case.
As she unlocks it, J.B. and I gaze at the assortment of pearl jewelry inside. There are strands, double strands, bracelets, and rings. Some are interspersed with diamonds and gold.
But what Marion pulls out is a simple piece on a slender silver chain with three tiny perfect pearls.
“It’s not flashy,” she says. “But it’s delicate, beautiful, and it could symbolize your new family. What do you think?”
J.B. smiles, her eyes trained on the three little pearls as Marion holds out the necklace to her.
“It’s perfect,” she breathes after a moment as she takes it.
It really does seem like exactly the right choice. Suddenly I’ve got a lump in my throat. This is a gift for the real Darcy, and none of this is supposed to be real.
Marion looks to me and I nod.
“Would you like to carry it to the counter for me?” she asks J.B. kindly.
“Yes, okay,” J.B. says, eyes still on the dainty pearls that are cupped so gently in her hand. She clearly doesn’t want to let it go.
Marion smiles at me over her head.
“They’re close?” she asks.
I nod.
“That’s so rare and special,” she says. “I know you’ll treasure your new family.”
I pay without saying anything else and by the time we’re heading out with the pink box tucked into J.B.’s coat pocket, another group is coming in, keeping Marion too busy to mention the ring I bought.
Back out on the sidewalk soft sunlight is penetrating the clouds and everyone in sight looks so happy.
The reds and greens of the holiday decorations are everywhere and I feel a touch of that same excitement I used to have as a kid when Christmas was near and I was in Angel Mountain with Grandpa Michael.
I try not to think about the fact that he won’t be here with us next Christmas.
Will we ever come back here once he’s gone?
My chest aches until J.B. spots Darcy and she takes off to greet her.
“Derek Lockwood?” a deep voice says from behind me before I can move to join them.
I turn to see my old friend Roan Connelly standing outside the diner, a paper cup of coffee in his hand.
Roan has grown since we were teenagers. He’s as tall as I am—over six feet. He’s wearing a lined plaid flannel and grinning at me with the same twinkling blue eyes I remember always meant he was about to propose some ridiculous prank.
“Roan,” I say, clasping his outstretched hand. “Good to see you.”
“You too, man,” he says. “My dad mentioned you bought a tree last night. I was hoping to catch you. How long are you here for?”
“Just the week,” I tell him.
I feel kind of bad about that now. I’d like to spend some time with Roan. Most of my favorite childhood memories are with him. I wonder why I haven’t stayed in touch more.
“Well, you’ll have to bring your little girl out to the farm,” he tells me. “We’ll cook up a big dinner and talk about old times.”
“She’s not so little,” I say, pointing out where J.B. and Darcy are window-shopping across the street.
They turn and wave and Darcy gives me a smile that makes my heart want to split in half.
“Is that your fiancée?” Roan asks with interest.
For no reason that I can put my finger on, when I open my mouth to tell the usual lie the truth comes out instead.
“It’s complicated,” I tell him, turning away from the girls.
He turns with me, and I find myself walking slowly up the block to join him, my eyes searching the pine boughs and Christmas displays as if they might contain a simple explanation for the situation at hand, and the way I feel about it.
“You know my Grandpa Michael’s not well,” I begin.
“I was so sorry to hear about that,” Roan says quietly. “The whole town’s taking it hard.”
“He worries about me,” I tell him. “When I came down here with my assistant to spend a little time he jumped to conclusions. And… well, I guess we figured letting him think we were together might give him some peace. I probably took it too far by pretending to propose, but you should have seen his face, Roan.”
“She’s your assistant?” Roan asks, sounding surprised.
“Yes,” I tell him. “Best one I’ve ever had.”
“So, you’re pulling pranks for good instead of for mischief now, eh?” he asks me.
“Yeah, I guess you could say so,” I agree.
He clearly thinks his remark is hilarious, but it leaves me feeling uncomfortable. Is that what we’re doing? Is it really no better than a prank?
“Does she know?” Roan asks me.
“What do you mean?” I ask him, stopping in my tracks. “Of course she does.”
“Well, I saw the way she was smiling at you just now,” he says. “It didn’t look fake to me.”
I want what he’s saying to be true so badly.
But it isn’t.
“It’s fake,” I say louder than I meant to. “It’s all completely fake. There are no real feelings involved. She’s doing it for money and I’m doing it for Michael.”
Suddenly Roan’s expression goes soft.
I turn to see Darcy standing behind us, a stricken look on her face.