Page 27 of One Golden Ring
Playtime is over.
“Well,” I say as I stand up, hating how gruff my voice sounds. “Darcy needs to catch up on some work stuff, and I need to run some errands.”
“We can do both at the same time,” she offers cheerfully.
J.B. looks a little down at that, and I’m worried for a second that she’s going to retreat into her headphones and disappear on me. She tends to use them to cope when she gets overwhelmed, and I’m proud of her for keeping them off for so long, especially in a crowded public place like the lodge.
She’s always had some sensory issues. She doesn’t like a lot of loud noises, or even noises that I don’t think are that loud. That’s why she’s been allowed to wear earplugs or headphones whenever she wants since she was a little kid.
But ever since she officially became a teenager this year, she’s been using the headphones to escape more than just noise.
“J.B., why don’t you stay here with me?” Michael says. “We can get out the chess board.”
J.B.’s frown turns upside down instantly. She loveschess, always has. I envy her a little. Some chess beside a crackling fire sounds amazing right now.
“You’re on,” she says, leaping out of her chair.
When Darcy stands I take her hand. I tell myself it’s part of the act. But it was instinct, not a plan that made me want to do it. And the good feeling it gives me is very real.
Especially now that the ring that means so much to my family is around her finger. How it got there is kind of a blur. But the cool hard surface of the delicate band contrasts with the warm softness of Darcy’s fingers and I want to pull her close and kiss her all over again.
What are you doing to me?
I didn’t think to ask him this afternoon, but I can’t help thinking about the fact that my grandfather didn’t offer me this ring to give to Addie all those years ago. I wonder what it is about Darcy that makes him feel like this is different.
He’s letting go of Grandma’s ring because he won’t need it much longer,a little voice in the back of my head reminds me.
Sadness joins the other emotions swirling in my chest and for a moment I feel like Darcy’s hand is the only thing anchoring me to reality.
I have to let go for us to put on our coats, and I can already feel myself drifting away. But once they’re on, she grabs my hand this time like she knows I need her, and somehow I feel a smile tugging at my lips.
I open the front door to the lodge to see lazy snowflakes drifting down again and marvel at the magic in it.
A gentle snow in the city doesn’t look like this. The snowflakes there always look more like rain—reflecting the colors of the buildings and traffic lights in their hurry to the ground, and instantly turning to gray slush from the endless movement of cars and feet.
Standing here on the porch of the lodge, we’re looking out over a swirling white vista with nothing in the world to spoil it. We could be in one of those Christmas movies my grandma used to love.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Darcy breathes.
“Yes,” I agree, squeezing her hand lightly.
There’s not a soul out here to see us. But this time she doesn’t take her hand away. We just look out over the woods together for a long moment, the clouds of our breath mingling in the crisp air.
“So what errands are we running?” she asks at last.
“We have to pick up some things for J.B. now that she’s here,” I tell her as we start down the steps.
She nods but stays kind of thoughtful as we walk on.
It’s so beautiful on the little road that leads back to the cabin, but I can’t take it in because I’m worried about Darcy.
Is she changing her mind about all this?
Grandpa Michael is so happy. I can’t imagine what it would be like to tell him it isn’t real.
Not to mention my own feelings, which seem to be running away with themselves.
Control yourself, Lockwood.
