He reached the mall just as it opened, pausing only long enough to consult the directory. Ten jewelry stores and eight department stores with jewelry counters. Somehow he had to hit them all while avoiding his sister and fiancée. It wouldn’t be easy.
That thought froze him. He leaned against a pillar and considered it. Fiancée. He had a fiancée. He had always assumed he’d get married—someday. The safety net encapsulated in that nebulous word “someday’” had always been comforting. Someday was now “soon.” Time to shop.
Werner’s Jeweler’s was closest. He stepped inside, all attempts at nonchalance failing as his mouth went dry at the sight of a case full of rings. Why did it matter so much to him? He wanted it perfect—perfect. Why? It was the oddest engagement he’d ever heard of and yet it was so important to him.
“How can I help you today?” The woman flashed a smile perfect enough for a dental advertisement.
“I’m looking for an engagement ring.”
“That’s exciting,” she beamed, the row of white teeth almost blinding him with their pearly brilliance. “What setting do you like best?”
“I don’t know. They all stand so high. I think she’d destroy it inside of a week.”
“What does she do?”
“Farm,” Chad said, examining several closely. “I just think these’d get in the way—”
“Will she continue to farm though, after you’re married or will she be moving?”
“Oh no,” Chad laughed. “This gal will farm until she drops dead from overwork, and there’s nothing any of us can do about it.”
“Well, how about let’s start with your budget. How much were you planning to spend?”
Chad sputtered. He didn’t know. He hadn’t thought about how much to spend or not. He just knew he needed a ring. “You’re supposed to have a budget?”
“Well, the customary rule of thumb is two to three month’s salary.”
Chad’s eyes bulged unattractively. “I had no idea—”
“We have several credit options—”
He shook his head. “I’m not going to give a ring that I haven’t paid for yet. I’ll buy what I can afford.”
An hour later, he’d seen hundreds if not thousands of rings and nothing was right. Men and women alike tried to steer him toward diamond solitaires set so high they’d rip her finger off as soon as she began working. While he rejected their suggestions, he learned more about stones than he’d ever cared to know.
In Stephen’s Jewelry, an elderly gentleman listened to his needs and nodded wisely. “I think, son, what you need is a band inset with stones. Just add a thin wedding band and it’ll look fine.”
Chad blinked twice. “A band. I guess—”
“Or, if that just doesn’t feel right, I do have another option… It’s somewhat unconventional perhaps, but—”
“Well, at this point, everything is unconventional. What do you suggest?”
After a few moments in the back room, the jeweler returned with a tray. “Now this is an Irish setting. They’ve twisted the trinity rings around the heart. See how the diamonds are flat? It might be an option, but if you’re not religious—”
“It’s perfect. Can you get a band like that—” Chad pointed to a twisted band on the tray with diamonds nestled in each valley of the twist. “That will fit right with this later?”
“I can create one, certainly.”
“Is there anything like that band that wouldn’t look dumb on a man?”
“I can do something appropriate, I’m sure. Let me get the other tray.”
With the ring in hand and a promise to bring in Willow for appropriate sizing, Chad hurried from the mall and home to his mother. He’d spent all day doing something he hated and hoped it hadn’t been a complete failure. However, the look of utter delight on his mother’s face reassured him that he hadn’t made a foolish choice.
The road to Fairbury seemed particularly long that evening. He’d tried to get through traffic in time to save Caleb Allen the hassle of going to the farm to feed the animals, but forty-five minutes in slow-crawling traffic before he reached the Loop foiled that plan. He’d get out to her house, hide the truck, and put the ring on the kitchen table. It should be a nice surprise after a long day—he hoped.
His phone blasted music through the truck, snapping him out of his reverie. The voice on the other end spoke, repeating when he didn’t answer, “Mr. Tesdall?”
“Caleb?”
“Yeah. So I’m out here feeding the animals, and I thought you said they were all in the barn?”
“Who isn’t in the barn?” Weariness entered Chad’s voice. He wasn’t ready to deal with an escaped goat. Ditto had a tendency to try to kick through her pen.
“The barn’s empty and the chickens are all frozen in the yard. They’re all in their outside pens, although the cow and sheep are huddled together—kind of weird.”
“They’re in their pens?”
“Yeah. I thought that was weird ‘cause when Willow called to ask if I could come, she said she was putting them in the barn. It kind of echoed at first.”
The hair stood on Chad’s neck. “Caleb, get out of there.”
“Wh—”
“Now! Go. I’m on my way; I’ll take care of the animals.”
Chad checked his speedometer, and gunned it another five miles per hour. The phone rang, sending Toby Keith’s “Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue” blasting through the cab. Again. “Caleb, what?”
“It’s Willow.”
“What do you need?” His foot automatically let up on the gas.
“Well I had Cheri drop me off at the station; there was something she wanted to go to tonight at the college, but I missed the bus. I just wondered if you’d left yet. She said you were in the city—”
“I’m on my way home, but I’ll turn around and be right there. Go in the diner and get you some dinner.” He paused. “That sounds weird. Anyway, I’ll be there soon.”
The starkness of leafless trees contrasted with the moonlight reflected against the windows giving the house the appearance of an abandoned house. He felt rather than saw her pain as she climbed from the truck, carrying armfuls of bags. Cold, empty house, devoid of the tantalizing scents of simmering food or crackling wood in the stove—it cut her every time. Chad knew she’d never get used to it. This person—whoever he was—stripped even the chance of having some of that alleviated. For now.
“You start some fires; I’ll take care of the animals.”
He hadn’t made it to the barn door when Willow’s voice called out after him, “Caleb says he milked Ditto and put her inside.”
He jogged back to the house, torn between irritation that the boy had risked his safety for the comfort of an animal and gratitude that Ditto wasn’t miserable. The decision while commendable was also foolish. If Lily found out, she’d probably ban him from the farm, and he saw no honorable way to keep the information from her.
Chad found Willow standing, back to a slowly heating stove, staring at the “loot,” shivering. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out how Cheri talked me into buying this stuff.”
“Well, what’d you get? Show me.”
Willow pulled a tiny bag from within one of the larger mall bags and set it on the table. “Lotion, shower gel, and body spray. From what I understand, if the overpowering scent of the lotion and shower gel doesn’t have enough ‘sticktoitiveness,’ that’s ok. The spray will fix it for you.”
“Nice.”
She eyed him with an expression that told him she wasn’t amused. The next bag was from one of Cheri’s favorite stores. Willow pulled a pair of jeans and an impossibly long sweater from it. “Apparently my jeans are insufficiently fashionable. I need things that don’t cover my navel, and then to compensate, I need a sweater to cover my entire backside. I suggested getting my navel pierced like the sales girl so that at least I have something to show off with these things, but Cheri didn’t seem to like that idea.”
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br /> Chad’s jaw started to droop, but the wink Willow threw at him reassured him. “What else?”
“Well, in this bag you have about six hundred different things, determined to clog your pores and make your face feel like it gained weight overnight. After two hours at the makeup counter, I left with a heavier face, a lighter wallet, and looking for a bathroom to scrub it all off in. Cheri was not impressed.”
“Then why did you buy it?”
Willow shrugged. “According to your sister, one cannot attend a ‘function’ like the Policeman’s Ball naked.”
“Well I should hope not, but what does that have to do with—”
“Apparently,” she interrupted, “naked faces aren’t welcome either. I must look like someone painted me in a picture. Whatever. It made her happy.”
Were it not for the twinkle in her eye, Chad would have mistaken her good-natured sarcasm for genuine frustration. “Now, from the hair place, where they scrubbed my ‘virgin hair’ within an inch of its life, cut way more off than I was comfortable with, and left me with hair that is better looking than I’ve ever had—”
“Let’s see.” Leaning back in the corner of the couch, hands laced behind his head, he waited. He loved it when she shook out her hair and it came to life for those few seconds before she tamed it again.
“That’s another thing I do wrong. Not only do I use the wrong shampoo—never worry, I have the right stuff here, and at thirty dollars a bottle, it better last forever—but I also am not supposed to keep it in a braid all the time. It’s bad for it.” She paused. “You know how you always ask why I don’t do this or that to save time, and I always ask what I’d do with that time? I found out today. I’d spend it protecting my nails, the skin on my hands, and avoiding the sun because it’s bad for my face and is going to give me those awful wrinkles Mother had—who knew? I liked her wrinkles. Oh, and my hair. I need to spend it on my hair.”
“Nonsense.”
“Thank you. Cheri tried to convince me it made perfect sense.”
“I thought she had more,” Chad mused.
“I told her she’d change her mind when she was happy to have water she could use to wash her hair at all when she was on her mission trips.”
“That’ll teach her.”
“So, here’s the final result after an hour in the ‘salon.’ What do you think?”
He saw in her the familiar traces of uncertainty when Cheri or his mother did something different. Hadn’t she told him about how her mother had tried to get her to cut her hair over the years and she’d resisted? How could he assure her that he liked it without making her feel like the old way was awful? “I think it’s nice, but I miss the scrunched look it had before when you took it out.”
“Messy you mean.”
“Ok, so I like it messy then.” Chad wasn’t about to start arguing now. “So what else did you get?”
“Costume jewelry which seemed atrociously expensive.”
Chad leaned forward, forearms on his knees. While ring shopping, for the first time he’d truly understood how she could have no concept of the value of something. To him, everything was much too expensive. He’d been sickened to hear that he was expected to fork over at least three thousand dollars for a ring! “Well, any kind of jewelry is expensive.”
“I think Cheri has um, pricy tastes. Anyway, I have this necklace—” She pulled out an acrylic box with a silver filigree necklace in it. The sight of pink stones told him it was for the ball. “And these earrings, which Cheri promises will make my earlobes go numb and then I won’t notice them anymore. They drove me crazy in the store.”
Tempted to ask the price of her jewelry, Chad chewed the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to keep quiet. “They’re pretty anyway.”
“So, one hundred fifty dollars later, I have a necklace and earrings. I refused to purchase the bracelet, though. Oh, and what is the purpose of an anklet when your dress covers your ankles? I never did understand that.”
With a curious eye, Chad picked up the necklace box and lifted the lid. The necklace was beautiful. What was the difference between “fine jewelry” and “costume?” The price seemed outrageous—a hundred dollars for some silver and a few rocks? The earrings were even more outrageously priced for what you got.
“This… is my dress for Aggie’s wedding.” With a flourish, she whipped a chocolate satin dress from a Macy’s bag. “Isn’t it beautiful!”
The change in Willow was remarkable. She’d been less than enthusiastic about most of her purchases, but the dress brought new life to her. She nearly glowed as she described how it fit, or rather didn’t, and what she’d have to do to alter it. “Just a minute, I’ll show you!”
He expected her to run upstairs and change in the bathroom, but Willow slipped into the library and shut the door. “OOOOH it’s cold in here!”
“Well then hurry!”
“You am-maze me with your st-stuning b-b-brilliance!”
Chad fingered the ring box in his pocket. Should he put it on the table with her other things or leave it and hide as he’d planned? The indecision frustrated him. “Just put the box on the table already!”
His eyes scanned the room as he looked for something less obvious but still a place where she’d see it soon. Near the wise men would have been perfect, if they hadn’t been so close to the library that she’d hear him. What about the nativity? With all other Christmas décor gone from the room, surely the little box would stand out and make her take notice.
Before he could decide, Willow reappeared in the library doorway wearing the dress and hopping up and down as she worked the zipper up the back. “I hate zippers.” As she shifted the dress into place, she smiled. “This is off the rack…” She turned slowly. “And this…” Willow made darts in the dress by pinching the fabric in front under her chest down to her waist. “Will be how I take it in to make it fit right.”
“So you bought a dress, and from Macy’s it wasn’t cheap, so that you could come home and remake it?”
“Oh but this is fun! I saw a dozen dresses that if I had needed them, I would have bought and remade. They left out the details or added too many—” She stopped. “That’s just the look Cheri gave me.
“Well, the dress is nice. I think it’s perfect.”
“And look at the neckline! I don’t need jewelry! That was a huge plus.”
She pulled a shoebox out next. “These are called ballet flats, and I look adorable in them. You’ll have to trust me on that though, because I’m not stuffing myself in those sausage casings until the actual wedding.” To emphasize her point, Willow held up a bag. “Twelve pair of sausage casings. Just in case I tear eleven of them trying to get them on.”
“Why wear them then? Cheri never does.”
“Because I am insufficiently fashionable. I refuse to wear shoes barefoot and Cheri won’t let me wear socks—or tights—with either of these dresses, although I have three pairs for other outfits that are perfectly acceptable. Tights have limited fashionability. Who knew?”
By that point, Chad’s ability to control his laughter evaporated. As she mocked every purchase, he howled. Together they carried the bags and boxes upstairs, and while Willow changed into her warm up suit, Chad hurried back downstairs. He set the little box in the middle of the coffee table and hid in the library. As his teeth chattered and he shivered in time with his teeth, he conceded that Willow was correct. The library was freezing.
Through a crack in the door, he watched as she crossed the room to check the stove and paused. She scooped up the box, started to return upstairs, and paused—a look of horror on her face. “Oh no, I should have asked,” he groaned silently to himself.
Slowly, Willow raised the lid to the box, confusion stamped on her features. She pulled the ring from inside the box examining it in the light. “Chad! I think I got home with someone else’s things. I didn’t buy—”
One look at Chad’s face as he stepped from his hiding place slowed her speech. “Wh
a—”
“Every girl needs an engagement ring. Even if she can’t wear it for another ten weeks.”
“Should I be concerned that you know exactly how long it is until that wedding?”
Chad hushed her, insisting she try it on. “Does it fit?”
The ring slipped easily onto her finger. She shook her hand and then shrugged her shoulders. “It doesn’t fall off, but it kind of slips around a lot.”
“Well, they’ll know how to size it. We can take it in sometime and have it fixed.”
Willow sank onto the couch and stared at the ring. “I’m engaged,” she whispered in awe. “I never really expected—”
Chad joined her and watched, amused as she played with it in the light. “Is it alright? I mean, he said we could exchange it—there were two or three others that I liked too, but—”
“It’s beautiful. Thank you. I’m sorry; I didn’t say thank you did I?” She blushed, mortified. “I can’t believe this—” Her sentence ended abruptly as she noticed something across the room.
“Chad?”
“Hmm?” His eyes were still preoccupied with the sight of his ring on Willow’s finger.
“Where is Jesus?”
Chapter Seventy-One
Hair tied in a bandana, arms covered in fine paint spatters, Willow kicked her shoes off at the spare room door, and hurried downstairs. “Ryder! Come on in. My hands are covered in paint—”
“I can’t. It’s locked and Chad made me give him my key so I can’t be accused of anything else.”
She’d forgotten about the problem with the key. “Just a minute, I have to wash my hands.”
For three days, she’d prepped the spare room. Every wall scrubbed, the floors and woodwork carefully taped to prevent splatters, and the light fixtures so seldom ever used, removed and scrubbed. After all the corners and edges were carefully brushed, she’d started rolling and with only one wall finished, she had to stop to let in Ryder. Frustration mounted. Memories of an earlier life when people didn’t interrupt their work tempted her to forgo the new richness she enjoyed with friends in her world.
Past Forward- A Serial Novel: Volume 3 Page 3
