Page 22 of One Golden Ring
Then he’s smiling so hard that his eyes are crinkling.
“That’s my boy,” he says, throwing his arms open.
I lower myself gently onto the edge of the bed and bend to embrace him.
“Did you go to the village to get her a ring?” Grandpa asks when we pull back.
“Yes,” I tell him.
“Well, let’s see it, son,” he says with a big smile.
I think about the ring and almost don’t want to show it to him. But there’s no point hiding it when she’s going to be wearing it around.
I have to lean back to get the big box out of my pocket before I open it and we both look down at it for a silent moment.
It’s even more tacky than I remembered.
Those stones could change her life,I remind myself.
“Well,” Grandpa says lightly after a moment. “I’veseen the rings on these city girls who come down on vacation. Maybe this is just what she wants.”
“Maybe,” I echo.
“But if you think she might want something of your grandmother’s with a little sentimental value,” Grandpa says, undoing the chain around his neck. “You could consider offering her this instead.”
I’m speechless as I watch him remove Grandma’s engagement ring from the chain he always wears. He fastens it back around his neck again, now with just Grandma’s slender golden wedding band on it, and a look of contentment on his face.
“It’s not much,” he says, holding out the engagement ring. “But I worked night and day to save for it, and I’ll never forget the look on her face...”
He doesn’t finish and I’m pretty sure it’s because we’ll both end up sobbing if he keeps going. I can picture this ring on Grandma’s finger while she kneaded bread or taught me how to wrap a present.
Shoving the other ring back in my pocket, I reach for the filigreed golden band with the tiny, twinkling diamond he’s offering me.
It’s still warm from being against his heart, and the little diamond glows like there’s a fire in it. This is a ring that symbolizes a lifetime of love—more than a lifetime. It’s the easiest thing in the world to picture it on Darcy’s finger.
“Thank you,” I murmur, wishing this moment were everything he thinks it is.
“No pressure to give it to her,” he replies gruffly. “Take it with you for now. When the time comes, you do whatyour heart tells you.”
I slide it into my other pocket, thinking to myself that I’ve got to find a safe place to keep it as soon as possible. The whole point of giving Darcy the ring I bought was so that she could sell it, so that’s really my only option. I’ll just give Grandma’s ring back to my grandfather as soon as Darcy is wearing the right one.
“Congratulations, boy,” Grandpa says, offering me his hand. “She’s a keeper.”
We shake like two men in one of those old movies I used to watch with him, and I feel an unearned burst of pride in my chest.
“I’m good and hungry,” Grandpa says. “What do you say we find your girl and let Bronson rustle us up some lunch?”
“That sounds great,” I tell him, happy that he’s hungry and wanting to get up. I figure that’s a good sign.
He’s looking flushed and full of energy, almost like his old self, but I still get up and move to the other side of the bed to take his arm.
“Oh, I’m fine,” he tells me. But he lets me have his arm anyway and I’m grateful. “Hand me my jacket.”
I’m sort of amazed that he wants to wear his full doorman’s uniform, but I guess old habits die hard. Michael Lockwood has always been a sharp dresser. I can’t even picture this man wandering around in a pair of sweats. I make a mental note to find him some really nice casual clothing. I’ll buy him pajamas too, but I’m not enough of a fool to think he’d wear them all day.
When he’s fully put together and his hair is combed, we head out to the lounge.
Darcy is sitting with Maddie Stone, Dylan, and two little girls. They’re all writing something on pads of Angel Mountain Lodge stationary—letters to Santa for the lodge’s special mailbox, no doubt.
