R is for Ring


I looked around, what WAS that sound?

“I think it’s coming from inside your glass,” said Simon who was sitting beside me. I peered in – that can’t be, it’s only juice with ice. What in the world would make that sound?

Wait, one of the ice cubes looks weird; metallic. Ugh.  I took it out of the glass and looked at it. There was something in the ice.  “It’s a…a ring!” Simon said. Huh, he was right.  I was turtle-slow that night.  I picked at it and removed the ring.  The stone was turquoise, heart-shaped.

I lifted my gaze and looked at the boy who was standing in the doorway. “Phew, thought you were going to swallow it.” He said and smiled.  “Put it on, I want to make sure it fits!”  It fit my finger like a glove.

Five years later.

Simon held my hand “Are you sure about this?” he was worried for me, about me.  “I’m fine.  I’m good.  I’ll be okay,” I answer him and put on my best smile. “Don’t give me your best smile,” Simon chided, “I know it’s fake.  But it’s a good fake.” I let myself giggle a little.  He knows me well.  “Come on, the ceremony’s about to start,” we walked into the church.

I hear the priest saying, “Repeat after me.  With this ring, I thee wed.”  The boy who stood in the doorway a lifetime ago repeated the words, “With this ring, I thee wed.” And slipped the turquoise, heart-shaped ring onto the finger that was not mine.

My hands clutched Simon’s arms tighter.