by Sarah Archer
But they waited and waited and . . . nothing. They knew their mother and father were in there, and they knew that even a conversation at normal volume would be audible through the wall. But there was only quiet. Their parents weren’t fighting at all; they were taking their silence to bed with them. And that was so much worse. Even as a gawky, naïve ten-year-old who lived in a world of Isaac Asimov and Judy Blume, Kelly knew that people who couldn’t be bothered to fight just didn’t care.
For the most part, she had always been able to ignore the unhappiness in her parents’ marriage because they ignored it first. But while young Kelly didn’t often think about her parents’ marriage—after all, it was stable, if not blissful, so there were few peaks or valleys to call her attention even to its existence—she was an intelligent, sensitive girl, and she was not oblivious. She felt the heaviness in her home, and she resented it, even if she didn’t fully understand it. And she vowed subconsciously to never put herself in that same situation. The older she got, the more she threw up walls to shield herself from the same unhappiness that seeped into her childhood. Romantic relationships, familial relationships, friendships—get close to anyone, and you were opening a drawer of knives. Better to pull out at the first sign of imperfection before getting hurt.
For thirty years now, Kelly had followed this same basic MO, and for thirty years, it had worked quite nicely, thank you very much. Sure, it had meant that relationships of any heft were few and far between in her life. But it had also kept her safe. Her heart had never been broken. Now, for some reason, she had veered wildly off track in the most outlandish way possible. She was lying to everyone in her life. She was breaking the rules at work, not to mention neglecting her duties during the most crucial juncture yet in her career. And now she had just blithely signed herself up to plan a wedding that was destined never to happen. But she just couldn’t get herself to pull the plug on her mechanical man. Normally she had her finger over the trigger when it came to ending relationships. Yet against all logic, she couldn’t end this one.
When cautious Kelly took the massive, a-meteor’s-about-to-hit-so-all-bets-are-off-size risk of building herself a robotic boyfriend in the first place, she had preserved a foothold in her own sanity by creating a rule for herself: she would get rid of Ethan as soon as he had served his purpose. Now that she had broken that rule, she was officially through the looking glass. Kelly was ill at ease about this turn in her life, but she was also kind of having fun. She had never before been so unshackled. She was free-falling, and didn’t her arms feel nice and funny and light on the way down?
Which is how she found herself leaving work at the unusually early hour of five p.m. that week to drive to a jewelry store in downtown. Of course one of her mom’s first questions, once she recovered herself enough to stop crying drippily into a thousand-dollar veil over her daughter’s whirlwind romance, had been where the ring was. Kelly had explained that it was getting resized, and that she had wanted to keep quiet on an official announcement of the engagement anyway until after Clara’s wedding, but she had assured her mother that the ring was just beautiful. The likelihood of an adjunct professor being able to afford a bling behemoth was not on Diane’s radar: she was only interested in the fantasy, which was a good thing, because Kelly was fresh out of reality.
It wasn’t until she got to the jewelry shop that she realized she could have, and maybe should have, brought Ethan. What would they think about a woman showing up alone to buy herself an engagement ring? Kelly knew she was weird, but eccentric was never a look she had worn well. But at the same time, she didn’t want Ethan to be here. The thought of him finding out she had just fake-engaged herself to him made her feel undeniably embarrassed. It felt demeaning, and even more, like a step backward, like the real feeling that had developed in their relationship had been cast overboard for a lie.
The proprietor of the boutique was a middle-aged woman with strong, hooked features and fabulous hair. As soon as Kelly entered the store, she could feel the woman sizing her up for a probably accurate impression of her interests, tastes, and, most important, assets. This lady was no clueless shop girl. She was a pro.
“What can I help you with?” the woman asked.
“I’m looking for a ring.”
“Wonderful, and who is it for?”
“Uh, my mother,” Kelly blurted out, not even recognizing that her excuse was true.
“How lovely. We have some perfect options here.” The lady glided over to a case showcasing jewels in clear pastel tones: peridot, tanzanite, pink sapphire.
“Hmm,” Kelly said, pretending to peruse the offered rings. She could glimpse the case of engagement rings out of the corner of her eye. “These are nice, but I was thinking maybe something more like this.” She moved over to the engagement case, a dazzle of silvery white.
“These are engagement rings, dear,” the woman said. Her tone made it clear that such a faux pas had lowered Kelly even further in her estimation.
“I know,” Kelly said quickly, with a high laugh that seemed to say, “Of course I knew that, of course we are on the same wavelength, you ultimately inconsequential yet formidable woman, you.” “But diamond is my mom’s favorite stone. I think this is what she’d like.”
“Well, let’s see if we can find one that doesn’t look like an engagement ring,” the woman said, eyes skimming the rings over her sculptural nose.
Kelly hemmed, pursing her lips. Her eye landed on a ring toward the left of the case. It was gorgeous. A sparkling diamond ringed by a flurry of smaller stones, like a corona, floating above a band made of tiny, twisted filaments of white gold. “Could I see that one?” she asked casually.
“That one? For your mother?”
“Yeah, I mean, I’m just curious.”
The shop owner handed Kelly the ring with the air of doing her a great favor. Kelly took an extra moment to drink in its details so it didn’t look like she was racing to check the price tag. When she did, she nearly felt her eyes bug out like in a cartoon. She carefully handed the ring back and quickly began searching for the smallest alternative. “How much is that one?” she asked, pointing at a sad little band of silver supporting a small chip of stone. It looked slightly dingy, as if it had been here unwanted for a long time and nobody had bothered to dust it.
“That one is two hundred and fifty dollars.”
“It’s nice,” she said, trying to fake genuine interest in the ring, which was more like a Cracker Jack box prize than anything worth two hundred and fifty dollars. When the lady took it out and presented it to her, she peered at it with what she hoped looked like a practiced eye.
“Yes. I think this will do nicely,” Kelly said in her best person-who-eats-chateaubriand-and-knows-how-to-pronounce-it voice. But as the saleswoman took the little ring to the cash register, Kelly’s eye was caught by the laser-like sparkles of the gem she had first noticed. It glimmered and winked at her, demure on its bed of blue velvet.
Her mind went back to the magazine headline—“The Ultimate Bond.” She was sure that if Ethan were really buying her a ring, he wouldn’t go for the Cracker Jack prize. He would get this one. This ring was him—perfect, pure, dazzling—and he wouldn’t look right next to a woman wearing anything less.
“On second thought . . .” she said.
nineteen
• • • • • •
As Kelly drove home, she reasoned that the shop must do returns. With engagement rings, it was probably something they ran into all the time, actually. Things didn’t work out. People made mistakes. Of course, she hadn’t been so gauche as to ask if they did returns when she was there. But they definitely did. To do otherwise in their competitive, service-based market would be dangerously illogical. Coasting up to a stoplight, she lifted her finger to admire how the diamonds glittered in the setting sun.
All she had to do was show the ring off to her mom; prove that Ethan real
ly did want her, like, really, really wanted her; then get rid of it and get her money back when she called the whole thing off. Because of course Diane had immediately moved family dinner up to midweek to congratulate Kelly and Ethan and hear about (or more likely inform them of) their wedding plans. Kelly had given a firm “I’ll be there,” but the only catch was that she couldn’t bring Ethan. After all, he still hadn’t been notified of his own engagement, and Kelly was in no hurry to break the news. So she informed Diane that Ethan had just left town for a conference and couldn’t make it.
Having told Ethan that she needed to go put in some extra time at the office, she waited until just before heading out the door to slip her ring on. She knew it wasn’t a real ring for a real engagement, but she still felt a little thrill looking at it, its brilliance almost absurdly out of place next to the backdrop of her oatmeal wrap dress.
“What’s that?”
She whirled around to see Ethan watching as she approached the door, twisting the ring on.
“Oh, it’s a ring. It’s a type of jewelry. I’ll see you later.”
But Ethan frowned. “I know what a ring is, but it looks like an engagement ring, and you’re wearing it on the ring finger of your left hand. Isn’t that supposed to be a sign that you’re engaged?”
Kelly laughed too loudly. “Funny. Right, yeah, I guess you’re right.” She hurriedly tried to slip the ring onto her right hand instead, but it didn’t fit. She awkwardly stuffed it back onto her left hand. “It’s just a ring.”
Ethan lifted her hand, examining the “just a ring.” “It’s lovely,” he said. “Especially on you.” He looked her in the eyes. “You know you don’t need to lie to me,” he said. “You have the right to live your own life. Of course you do.”
“Oh,” was all Kelly could manage to say. He dropped her hand and turned back into the apartment. This was probably the easiest way this conversation could have gone, and yet Kelly couldn’t just let it lie. “We’re engaged,” she burst out.
“I’m sorry?”
“Not really. Just a little bit. It’s just that I told my mom that we’re engaged to get her off my back, just like how I introduced you as my boyfriend.”
Something in Ethan’s face relaxed. “Oh. You didn’t get that ring from anyone else, then?”
“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, I’m not trying to make decisions without you, it’s just, I mean, it’s not a real decision.” As soon as she said it, Kelly wondered if she was in some way being unfair to him by using him in this lie. But it was probably a bit late to be worrying about using him. “We’re not really going to get married, obviously,” she continued hurriedly. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”
“Of course not,” Ethan said just as quickly.
“I mean, it would be crazy. It wouldn’t be legally possible. Because you’re, um—” Kelly stopped. Despite it being simple fact, it somehow felt like an insult to call him a robot.
“Because I’m not human,” Ethan finished for her easily. Clearly he had no compunctions about the issue. But as he observed the discomfort on her face, a cloud passed over his own. “Does that bother you?” he asked.
“No, of course not,” said Kelly. They stood in mutual silence for a moment. An awkward silence, like watching-a-movie-with-your-parents-and-a-nude-scene-comes-on silence.
“So your coworkers all know about the fake engagement too, right?” Ethan finally broke in. “If you’re wearing the ring at the office? I just want to know what my story should be in front of people. Not that I mind or care one way or the other.”
“Oh, no, I’m actually not going to the office, I’m going to my mom’s for dinner. I told her you were out of town on business. I figured it would be easier to just handle this on my own.”
“Right. I’d probably make things more difficult.”
Kelly hesitated. “I should get over there, I don’t want to be late,” she said finally, and she was out the door.
* * *
• • •
Kelly lingered outside the door of her parents’ house a minute, twiddling her skirt, smoothing her hair. She was inexplicably nervous.
When Kelly made her way into the kitchen, Diane screamed and dropped her ladle. Kelly jumped before realizing that her mom had just spotted her ring.
“Oh my word. Oh my word,” Diane said, lifting it closer and closer to her face with a hungry look.
“Don’t eat it!” Kelly cried, yanking her hand back.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. But Kelly—well, I knew you had done well with Ethan, but I guess I didn’t know how well!”
Kelly beamed. Fake engagement or not, her mother had rarely given her such a glowing smile. In fact, the whole family seemed pleased. “Ethan seems all right,” her dad said, which from him was a love letter. Gary spread his hands on the table, clearing his throat dramatically.
“All right,” he began. “You’re going to have to answer some questions about this guy you’re marrying after dating for two months. Number one of two hundred and forty: Is he a serial killer?”
“Don’t you like Ethan?” Kelly asked.
“Sure, he seems great, I just wish I’d known him a little longer.”
“Gary, he’s a good guy, I promise,” she assured him.
“Promise?” He gave her an unusually serious look.
“Cross my heart.”
“All right then. You have my blessing.” He lifted his water glass like a chalice.
Clara even Skyped in from her honeymoon in Costa Rica to share in the celebration, joining them via Carl’s laptop, which sat on the table at her usual spot. Already her sunburn was bronzing into a tan. “I’m so happy for you, Kel,” she gushed.
“Thanks. It all happened really fast, but it just felt right.”
“Ethan is just perfect,” Clara continued. “Don’t you love him, Jonathan?”
Jonathan shouted from offscreen. “I mean, he seems like a cool guy, but don’t know if I love him,” he said. “Don’t make it weird.”
“Jonathan loves him,” Clara assured her. “Ooh, look!” She spun her phone so they could all see the view from her hotel window, where the sun was melting like magma over the ocean. “It’s so gorgeous here. Today we went horseback riding on the beach.”
But Diane interrupted, her excitement too strong to hold back. Just as the rapture of Clara’s nuptials flagged, here came another wedding to catch her on its tailwind. She might never touch ground again. “Kelly, Kelly, we have to talk about dates! What are you thinking?” she asked busily, digging into her (actually good) roasted apple chicken.
“Nothing yet. Next summer might be nice, or fall.” Kelly had a sudden thought. It was so rare that her entire family’s attention was turned toward her that she decided to seize the moment. “You know, I wanted to mention,” she began, “this investor presentation that I’m doing at work? It’s going to be broadcast online. I can give you the date and time and log-in if you might like to watch. You know, if you’re not doing anything else. You know.” Kelly winced at the sound of her own voice. If she couldn’t even invite her family to watch the presentation without sounding like a talking baby doll with a jammed motor, how was she going to do the presentation itself?
But Diane just waved a hand. “Right, right, right, but first things first, the date.” Kelly sat back in her chair. “A long engagement is simply asking for second thoughts. Plus, I’m itching to do a winter wedding since Clara’s was spring. You should see the tablescapes in the last December Bride Magazine. If we get our butts in gear, we could shoot for Christmastime. Yes, certainly we could do that. How do you feel about flower girls throwing icicles?”
“Terrified. Also we live in California.”
“But the ice theme will be the perfect complement to that gorgeous ring! Let me get another peek.” She held out a hand, and Kelly offered her own hand for exam
ination. She felt a bit like a show poodle at the judging table, but in a nice way.
“Just gorgeous,” Diane murmured. “I’m so proud of you, Kelly. Of course there will be pine boughs . . .”
Diane was off to the races, rambling something about winter weddingscapes or wedding winterscapes. But her words resounded in Kelly’s head: I’m so proud of you. Not until she actually heard those words from her mom did she realize just how deeply she’d been longing to hear them. But the affirmation had the hollowness of mockery. This was what her mother was proud of her for. Kelly couldn’t remember a single other time Diane had said she was proud of her: not for getting into Stanford, not for being hired by AHI, not for making E&T’s list of engineers to watch last year, an accomplishment that even Anita had congratulated her for, albeit in the same breath as asking her to find a janitor and inform them that the paper towels in the restroom were “the incorrect kind.” Just moments ago Kelly’s heart had lifted like a balloon, and now the balloon had popped. She would never be good enough.
As she ate, she switched her fork to her left hand. That way at least she could watch the ring. Above the flicker, she caught sight of Clara’s still digital face on the laptop, watching patiently as they all ate and talked. Clara was too easygoing to take offense at her sister getting engaged so quickly on the heels of her own wedding, but Kelly did feel a little bad. She knew what it felt like to be the afterthought at this table. When Diane stopped talking just long enough to gather more oxygen to allow her to talk again, Kelly threw herself in.
“So how was horseback riding, Clara?”
“Oh, so cool!” Clara said brightly. “I can’t wait to show you the pictures . . .”
* * *
