“You’ll ruin Christmas if you tell,” Fletcher adds.
“I won’t,” Patrick snaps. “Stop saying I’ll tell, because I won’t.”
We keep walking and walking and walking. “Where is it, Fletch?” I ask.
He checks the directions on his phone. “Just around this corner.”
We walk around the corner, and there it is.
NEW YORK DIAMOND TRADERS
“This is it.”
We all stand still and stare at the sign.
“This makes me nervous,” I whisper.
“Me too,” replies Fletcher. “What if we get one she hates?”
“We won’t.” With renewed determination, I lead the boys into the jewelry store, and we look around.
“Can I help you, sir?” the man behind the counter asks.
“Yes,” Fletcher interrupts. “We’re looking for an engagement ring.”
I smile, proud that he now speaks so confidently to strangers.
“For my mom,” Patrick adds.
“Well.” The salesman’s eyes widen in delight. “How wonderful.”
“Yes, it is.” Harry beams happily as he swings my arm by the hand.
I smile as I watch the boys. They’re as excited about this as I am. I’m so glad I included them in this.
“What are you after, sir?” the salesman asks.
“Gold.” I look to Fletcher in question, and he nods. “Yes, eighteen-karat gold. A solitaire diamond, not too big and flashy, but the diamond has to be perfect.”
“Okay. This way, please.” He leads us over to a glass cabinet where diamond rings are displayed in rows.
“Thank you,” I reply. “This could take a while.”
“Of course. I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be just over here when you need me.”
The boys and I all peer into the cabinet.
“Do you see any you like?” I whisper.
“Hmm.” Patrick cranes his neck as he looks. “I’m trying to imagine if I were a girl.”
“You wouldn’t have to imagine too hard,” Harry mutters dryly.
“That one.” Fletcher points to a ring that sits on its own.
A solitaire diamond ring in a black velvet case sparkles perfectly in the light.
“Oh yeah,” Harry whispers. “I like that one too.”
“What do you think, Tricky?” I ask.
“Hmm.” He frowns as he concentrates. “I think she might like a love-heart one instead. You know, for love.”
Harry screws up his face in disgust. “She isn’t ten,” he scoffs. “Nobody likes love-heart rings.”
“I think it would be nice,” I reply as I stare at the ring in front of us. “But maybe Mom would prefer a round one.” I shrug. “Good idea, though, Tricky.” I rub his little head and mess up his hair.
He smiles up at me. “I suppose.”
“Excuse me,” I call to the salesman.
“Yes.”
“Can we look at this one, please?” I point to the ring we like.
“Of course.” He takes it out of the cabinet and passes it over.
We all stare at it in my hand. “Can you tell me about it?” I ask.
“Yes, this is a perfect-cut solitaire two-karat diamond. Eighteen-karat gold in a traditional setting.”
I smile as I stare at it. I think this is it. “Can we have a moment alone, please?” I ask.
“Of course.” He leaves us alone.
“What do you reckon?” I whisper as I pass it to Fletcher. He studies it carefully. “I love this one.” He passes it to Harry, who inspects it in great detail. He nods in approval. He passes it to Patrick, who immediately drops it on the ground.
“Patrick, you idiot,” Harry whispers angrily. “Watch what you’re doing.”
“It’s slippery,” Patrick stammers.
“Oh my God. I’m sorry,” I stammer to the salesman as we all dive to the floor to retrieve it.
I pick it up and stare at it in my fingers, and a broad smile crosses my face. “This is it.” I turn to the salesman. “We’ll take it, please.”
Snow is falling, and the boys all stare out the window of our chalet.
It’s Christmas Eve, and we are sitting by the open fire, next to the Christmas tree.
This Christmas seems special . . . it is special.
My first with them.
Claire smiles over at me. “Thank you for bringing us here.” She kisses me softly. “It’s perfect.”
“Boys,” I call.
They all run to us and sit down, excited for what’s to come.
“We have something for you.” I smile.
Patrick puts his hand over his mouth so that he doesn’t blurt it out.
Claire’s eyes come to me in question.
I drop to my knee in front of her and hold out the ring. “Claire, will you marry me?”
The three boys all bounce on the spot in excitement.
Claire giggles and pulls me in to kiss her. “I thought you’d never ask.” We kiss, and the boys high-five. “I’ve got a Christmas present for you too, Tris,” she whispers.