Page 116 of Faking Forever 1
“So,” he frees Beau, looking at us both, “What can I do for you two?”
“Well,” I pause, scratching my neck, “I need to buy a ring.
Not a wedding ring.”
“A ring thatisn’ta wedding ring?” he chuckles.
“Like a promise ring, you know? It says we aren’t engaged, but damn near close enough?” I laugh with little confidence.
They both look at me like I’m missing my head.
“Okay, kid. How about I show you something from a special collection.” my uncle presses his hand on my back, moving me to a particular section of the glass.
There were rings of various sizes, with different-shaped diamonds: hearts, squares, teardrops, and ovals. Ovals were her favorite.
“What’s your budget?” my uncle asks, opening the glass, pulling out a box of options, and sliding it in front of me.
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“It’s not huge, but I’ll be pretty happy if it’s under three hundred. Is that possible?” I ask, half smiling and gazing at all the sparkling auras.
“How about I give you three options?” he suggests, pointing to different ones that hadn’t grasped my interest.
“What about this one?” I point to the oval, which still stunned me.
“The Solitaire sterling? That’s pretty big, Josh…” my uncle assures me but lowers his voice.
“He doesn’t seem very shy of scaring her away,” Beau says seriously.
“Shut up.” I squint at him, then turn to my uncle again,
“This one, Uncle Tommy.”
My uncle takes a soulful breath and picks it up, giving me a closer look.
“It’s four hundred,” he says.
It looks like it could be worth at least one thousand. The silver was so pristine, and the oval wasn’t too large. It was just right despite it being way over my limit. I was crossing the line with spending more than three hundred, but common sense went out the window when I thought of the ring idea.
Sacrificing a bit more to see her smile was a priceless reward I didn’t want to pass up. There wasn’t anything else to think over.
“I’ll just pay the four hundred. No biggie.” I open my wallet, looking for my card.
“Josh, c’mon.” Beau grabs my arm.
“Beau, I’m not changing my mind, dude.” I finally put my foot down.
“Whatever, but four hundred dollars? You’re not going to 281
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think it over?” he insists.
“And waste more time? I’m done doing that.” I wiggle my card out of its snug spot, holding it out for my uncle, who’s giving me an unsure glare.
“You’re sure?” he asks again, reaching his wrinkled hand out to grab it.
