The Ring

I had certainly never experienced that special moment when someone special gives another person a promise of love and commitment-in the form of something bright and sparkly, the kind that fits on the third finger, left hand. Knees bent, heart beating hard, that special man must feel like each minute is an eternity, dragging on until he knows the answer, and it had better be yes!

I was beginning to understand what it meant to wait, as I patiently hoped Marilyn would decide to return home and claim the love she had lost. But it was turning into a long wait. And desperate to make it all have a happy ending, I pondered what I could do to help things work.

"You're becoming your mom-a matchmaker," Colleen observed one day.

I wrinkled up my face in response, and swatted her with a pillow that was on her sofa in the living room. "How dare you!" I said, and she threw another pillow at me.

"You know this means war!" I remarked.

Soon, all the living room's pretty little pillows were on the floor and we were laughing. Maybe Colleen was right, I reflected, suddenly gaining a better understanding of my mother.

One day I decided to ask Jack for the engagement ring, since he had said that Marilyn gave it to him.

He was quick to respond, "To be honest, I don't have it anymore," he said.

"What!" I couldn't believe his words. He admitted that when he was moving and he came across the ring, his guilt returned. And, instead of righting the wrong, he had sold the ring, he told me.