parked where Michael used to park. Five years ago, I’d asked him to leave. I’d stood at this same kitchen window, watching him load his car and drive off, his taillights fading into the night. When they were out of sight I’d exhaled, finally alone with a half-empty medicine cabinet, a half-empty closet, and my freedom. But I’d kept the engagement ring. Why?
“Mom!” Molly ran into the kitchen. “Look—do you think it’ll come out today?” She wiggled her tooth. It clung pretty tightly in place.
I covered the mouthpiece. “Don’t think so.” She ran out, then back in. “Do you know where my red sweatpants are?”
Amazingly, I did. “The dryer.”
She headed to the laundry, with Angela trying to catch up.
Michael was still talking. “Look, it’s not like you’d miss it. You don’t wear it anymore, but Margaret would, and she loves antique jewelry. Besides, it belongs with my bride.”
So Margaret wanted my ring. Why would someone want her husband’s ex-wife’s ring? I picked up Molly’s cereal bowl and plopped it into the sink, picturing gems hopping from woman to woman, finger to finger.
“What do you say, Zoe?”
“I don’t know, Michael—”
“Why?” He was annoyed. “What don’t you know? What could you possibly want with that ring? It was my grandmother’s, for godsakes.”
“Try to understand this: It isn’t about the ring. It’s about you wanting things all the time. Why I do or don’t want the ring—or anything else in my possession—isn’t your business.” Damn. How had he managed to twist it so that I sounded wrong for not automatically giving him back something he’d given me years ago? Oh Lord. Why had I picked up the phone?
“Zoe, I thought you’d be more reasonable. Please do this for me.” He was beginning to whine, a grating sound, like a cat in heat.
“Look, okay. I’ll think about it.”
He pounced on that as encouragement. “When? I need to know.”
His voice was pathetic. It was too easy to be mean to him. And what was the point? There was nothing to win; we were finished.
“I’ll let you know.”
“Great. I’ll call you tonight.”
“No, not tonight.”
“Zoe. The wedding’s on New Year’s Day. I’m planning to give it to her for Christmas.”
How touching. My ring would make a lovely Christmas gift. Technically, of course, it was not Michael’s to give, but a detail like that wouldn’t faze him; he just assumed he could have whatever he wanted. My property was his stash, there to dig into anytime.
“Gotta go, Michael.” I hung up, fuming.
Michael was so—so Michael. How had I married that man? Had I ever loved him? I wondered. He’d been smart, charming. Cute, in a soft, preppy sort of way. A great kisser. Ambitious, hardworking. But had I loved him? I wasn’t sure. More likely, back then, I’d had no sense of who I was. I’d tried to define myself through him, wrapping myself in his life and career as if they were a snug bathrobe. I’d married not so much to be with Michael as to be married. To be a wife. And the ring was a symbol of that marriage, of being Michael’s wife, someone I wasn’t anymore, didn’t want to be. I stood lost in thought, images and questions darting through my mind, until Molly zoomed downstairs, wearing her red sweatsuit.
“Found ‘em, Mom.”
“Good work.” I grabbed her for a hug.
She looked pensive. “Mom? How does the Tooth Fairy get in the house?”
“I guess she flies.”
She frowned. “She isn’t real, is she? You made her up.”
What should I tell her? I was late for work, had no time for a discussion. Molly at times revealed insight beyond her years; at others, she clung to childlike fantasies. I wasn’t sure which way to go on the Tooth Fairy. “I didn’t make her up. But can we save this for tonight when we have more time?”
Still frowning, she nodded, and I was temporarily off the hook. Angela approached, carrying socks. A block away, the church bell began ringing the hour. Oh Lord—I was late. It was nine. I grabbed my coat, said good-bye to Angela, kissed Molly, and ran out the door.
Jake stood at the bottom of our front steps, biceps bulging, sandy hair tied back in a ponytail, the dimple in his chin shadowed by three days of beard. “Morning, Ms. Hayes.”
“Hi,” I nodded.
“Watch yourself—your steps are icy,” he said. “I’ll have my guys sprinkle some salt.” “Thanks, Jake, that’s great.”
“No trouble.” His teeth twinkled when he smiled. Almost handsome, he would have been irresistible if his