Chapter 10 #2
That was what he really wanted to say to most of their customers: I know you want to give a tangible symbol of your love, but your love is enough.
The symbol is extra. Once in a while, he got a customer who was worried that they’d offend the recipient of the special ring or necklace by choosing the wrong piece, and that’s when Moore had to swallow his opinions and just act a part.
Because if you were giving someone a piece of your heart in the form of metal and gems and you truly thought that they might reject it because it wasn’t enough, then run screaming.
That’s exactly what he had dealt with when he was with Cammie.
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know.” Elliott was puzzling over a tray of twenty or so promise rings. “There’s too many to choose from, and I don’t have much time.”
“Let me help you. This is my job.”
A nervous smile was the reply.
“What’s her favorite gem?”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s her favorite color?”
“Green!” The kid gained confidence in knowing the answer.
“An emerald might be the right choice.” Plucking three little emerald rings from the tray, he held them up to Elliott, who zeroed in on the middle one.
“I think she’d like that one.” Holding it up to the light, he rotated it, then looked at the price tag and winced.
“Got anything cheaper?” Shoulders sagging, his entire demeanor changed.
“What’s your budget?” Moore asked, and Elliott named a figure. He appeared to be relaxing, and that’s what Moore wanted in his customers. Confidence. Excitement. Eagerness.
No one should be anxious and upset when buying something so important. Love shouldn’t be so complicated.
And expressing love, even in the form of jewelry, should be joyful.
Elliott’s budget narrowed the entire process down. Moore pulled out five different rings.
“Are they emeralds?” Elliott’s voice was filled with trepidation.
“No, these are different green gemstones. Peridot, aventurine, and tourmaline. Still beautiful, but less expensive than emeralds.” Sliding three from the five, he created a row for the kid to examine.
One of the softer skills in working with a customer was budget.
A wide selection of merchandise was crucial.
You always offered three items that could work. Just one and they felt like they were settling.
Two felt like they could easily pick the wrong one.
Three was just right. Like Goldilocks.
“Oh, man,” Elliot sighed, clearly tortured. He held his mouth a bit tight, one side of his mouth pulled up in a half-smile. “I knew this was going to be hard, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.”
“Bad?”
“Whatever I pick is, you know… forever.”
“Isn’t that the point?” Moore smiled.
“Sure. Of course. But when we’re old and gray–” Elliot squinted, and Moore realized to his horror that he was checking Moore’s head for gray hair, “–she’ll still be staring at this ring. It better be good, and I’m a brokeass dude who doesn’t deserve her.”
“She’ll love whatever you pick because she loves you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“That simple, huh?”
Elliot was killing Moore, as a vision of Colleen’s smile made all his words garble in his throat. Clearing it, he pointed to the back and rasped, “Coffee.”
“Gotcha. I’ll sit here and stare at these until the right one jumps off the glass and begs to be bought.”
A thumbs up was all Moore could manage. When he reached the back room, the coffee pot was full and waiting there as if it were a bit impatient that Moore hadn’t bothered emptying it of eight ounces or so.
A red mug from Love You Coffee – heart shaped, of course – was easily filled with piping hot black coffee.
Moore added an ounce or two of cold water to it, a splash of milk, and drank enough to get his throat to stop radiating emotion.
This was a business transaction. Elliot needed a little moral support, but the kid was going to buy.
“Hey, Moore,” he called out as Moore held the coffee mug to his mouth, drinking the strong brew. “You ever give a girl a promise ring like this?”
“No. Engagement and wedding rings only.”
The kid’s eyes jumped to Moore’s bare left hand. “But you’re not married anymore?”
“No.”
Alarm rippled in his eyes. “Didn’t work out?”
“Right.”
“But–but you loved her so hard, your heart felt like it was in your front shirt pocket, right? Like the whole world looked different because of her kisses. Like–”
“You a poet, Elliott?”
“Naw. Just really in love. You were, too, right? But now you’re not.”
Every bit of this sale just turned surreal. No one came into Love You Jewelers to talk about Moore’s love life. Yammering on about their wonderful beloved, they were always fixated on their own relationship.
Suddenly forlorn, the kid was questioning his own commitment because of Moore?
This was a tragedy.
“You know what, Elliot? I’m not a spill-your-guts kind of guy, and I have an informal rule that I never talk about my own relationships with customers. You don’t want to hear about my love snafus.”
“Sure I do! Guy like you was more like me thirty years ago, right?”
“Thirty!” Moore couldn’t help himself.
“Er, you know. When you were young.”
Holding back a grumble about the one-two punch, Moore persisted. “Truth be told, I’ve never been in love like you’re describing.”
“Come on. Really?”
“Really.”
“But you asked someone to marry you. And then got married.”
“Yes.” Twice, he didn’t add, because why bring on the questions?
“What happened?”
“Elliot, no offense, but what happened to me won’t happen to you.”
“How do you know?” The plaintive tone made Moore feel so much sympathy for the guy. When he was seventeen, he was in love, too. Not with Cammie.
With Colleen.
And if he’d just spoken up, said something, made a move–tried–his entire life since then would be so different.
Maybe.
The maybe always held him back. Because what if he’d told Colleen all those years ago and she hadn’t felt the same way? Instead of taking his shot, he’d thrown it away. Gone to homecoming with Cammie instead. Gotten drunk.
Slept with her.
And a broken piece of latex changed all their lives forever.
Just like a snowstorm had altered current events with Colleen.
In each case, fate had intervened and forced him down a life path he hadn’t planned for himself.
Placing a hand on Elliot’s shoulder, he caught the guy’s eye, staring at him seriously.
“I don’t know. That’s the problem with love.
It never comes with a guarantee. No user manual, no road map, no certainty of any kind.
Your heart climbs on an amusement park roller coaster that says ‘You must be this tall to ride’ and then it starts, but suddenly, there are no safety rails.
No seatbelts. You’re just clinging to each other and hoping the strength of your embrace is enough to get you through the ride. ”
“That’s deep, man.”
Moore fought his own internal cringe. Was it? Not really. But to an eighteen-year-old guy who was so deeply in love that he was shaking at the thought of not meeting his beloved’s needs, Moore guessed it was.
That whole not-meeting-your-beloved’s-needs problem was universal, though. A sick feeling in his gut told him he had to see Colleen today.
Had to.
The kiss at town hall yesterday had been both too much and too little, the prelude to a conversation they were supposed to have later tonight, meeting up at his apartment over the store.
For years, he’d fought living downtown, but when the longtime tenants moved out and resettled in a South Carolina retirement community, his mother had suggested Moore take the apartment.
Now he lived and worked within a stairwell’s walk. Every morning, though, he had a ritual: Leave the apartment. Take a walk around the block.
Then enter the store.
Elliot stared at him, increasingly awkward, and Moore shook himself out of his meandering thoughts.
“Deep? I don’t know. Love’s pretty consistent for us all, isn’t it?”
“Consistent?”
“Wrong word,” Moore added with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Universal, maybe? You love her so much, right?”
“Yeah.”
“When we love too hard, we feel like we might break without them.”
“Yes!”
“So here’s some friendly advice: Buy the prettiest ring. Someday, if you want, you can get her another one. Your first will always hold meaning for her–and you. It’s about the love. Not the price tag.”
That line almost always worked.
Elliot’s shoulders relaxed a little further, one eye tightening as he surveyed the three rings. “This one,” he finally said, voice more certain, choosing a lovely little green garnet and diamond-chip ring. “And it’ll remind her of Love You.”
“The color is perfect.”
“Thanks. And when it’s time to propose, I’m totally coming back here.”
“Great. We make custom rings, you know. When the time is right, give me a call.” Moore slipped his business card into the kid’s hand.
He looked at it like Moore had given him a buggy whip.
Centering it on the glass, he used his phone to take a picture of it, then slid it back to Moore.
“Thanks.”
Moore had never felt so old.
The front door bell jingled and a couple holding hands walked in, the woman with a beautiful blonde dye job, the man balding but with a perfectly manscaped gray beard. Both grinned like teenagers.
Second or third marriage.
One carat or more.
Custom design.
Revenge jewelry.
The profiling came as second nature to him these days, something to do when he was bored. Competing against himself, he kept score. Seventy percent accuracy wasn’t bad.
When he hit one hundred, it was time to retire.
“Be right back,” he assured Elliott as he approached the older couple, who introduced themselves as Dick and Linda, asking to be allowed to roam and look.
Taking their cue, Moore returned to Elliott, who was holding his phone and smiling.
“I texted a picture to my sister. She says it’s perfect.”
“It is.”
Elliott looked around, watching the couple carefully. “They’re in front of the big rocks. You should spend your time on them. Make more money.”
“Don’t compare.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t compare yourself to them,” Moore said as Elliott handed him his debit card, which Moore slid into the machine.
He found one of the store’s red velvet boxes, putting the ring in the little satin slit, closing it all up, and placing the box in a signature red bag with Love You Jewelers in white lettering on the front. “Love can’t be compared.”
“Wasn’t comparing love. Comparing bank accounts.”
“You work in a sub shop?”
Elliott looked embarrassed.
“Only for now. Taking classes to become a welder.”
“Good line of work. You’ll make plenty of money one day.”
“I wish one day were now.” He signed the receipt, took his card, put it in a beat-up old leather wallet, and beamed at the bag. “She’s gonna love it.”
“You made a fine choice on both fronts, Elliott. A fine woman and a fine ring.”
Tilting his head in contemplation, Elliott asked him, “You always like this?”
“Like what?”
“So positive?”
“I guess so.” Trying not to look at the other couple, Moore shifted into closing space, the deal done, the kid interesting but he had other customers now.
“Can’t imagine why anyone would divorce you.”
An image of Moore and Colleen walking into the coat room at his wedding to Gia, the DJ between her legs, flashed through his mind.
“It’s complicated.”
“You’ll find the right person. I know it. Might have already.”
“Huh?”
“Me and Mindy have known each other since kindergarten. Just didn’t really see her until last year, you know? Right in front of my face the whole time.”
Dick was making eye contact, eyebrows up, the universal customer sign for “We need attention now.” Linda was smiling and pointing at a 2.
3 carat brilliant-cut diamond set in a pavé diamond band.
Her rapturous expression was identical to the look on Luke’s daughter’s face when Moore had given her a Disney princess tiara for her fourth birthday.
Elliott noticed their signals and reached out to shake Moore’s hand. “Thanks, man.” He held up the red bag. “For everything. You really helped me.”
“You too, Elliott,” Moore replied as he waved to Linda. “Thanks for your help.”
“What do you mean? I didn’t help you.”
Moore knew Joey was coming in at noon. His planned afternoon of paperwork could wait.
Telling Colleen how he really felt about her couldn’t.
“You helped more than you’ll ever know. Elliot. More than you’ll ever know.”