without turning
around, Jeff said, "Sorry. This is happening pretty fast. You made your
first move last night, and now here we are looking at rings. Are you sure you
want to do this already? Don't count your chickens and all that."
"I'm sure."
His expression turning serious, Jeff considered him, tapping
one hand on the side of his thigh. "I have to say something, and I don't
want you to take this the wrong way, but. . ."
"What?" Derrick asked when the pause dragged out.
"It's just—you're my best friend, you know that.
And I love you. But I love Mia, too. I don't want to see her get hurt again,
and I'm worried about this. What happens if it falls apart?"
Derrick placed a hand on Jeff's shoulder and met his
friend's eyes squarely. "It won't. I won't let her be hurt, Jeff. I love
her."
"What did Allison say?"
"To go get her. You know Alli."
Jeff studied him another moment, much like Allison had.
"All right then. If you're sure."
Derrick merely looked at him.
Shrugging in acquiescence, Jeff gave a theatrical shimmy,
evidently some sort of drag queen voodoo to banish his uncharacteristically somber
mood. Back on form, he skipped down another row of cases, flitting here and
there and back again like a manic ballerina.
There was something about a six-foot-four, very muscular man
skipping across an upscale store's dignified selling floor that made Derrick
want to laugh. Maybe it was the expressions on the other customers' faces.
When Jeff stopped abruptly, Derrick nearly plowed into his
back. Tapping a coral-tipped fingernail against his chin, Jeff perused the
display case, then pointed to an ultra-modern twist of gold-and-platinum set
with three round-cut sapphires.
"How about that one?"
Derrick made a face. "Hideous."
"I like it," Jeff said, peering closer.
"Then buy it for Greg."
"Ha," he said. Then, considering, he leaned over
it again. "The stones match his eyes."
Derrick rolled his. "Perfect. Now can we get back to
finding the one for Mia?"
"Sure, sure," Jeff answered absently, at the same
time gesturing one of the saleswomen over.
Tuning out their chatter, Derrick pored over the rest of the
rings in the case. None seemed quite right. Moving on, he left Jeff haggling
over the gift for Greg.
"May I offer you some assistance, sir?"
Derrick jumped, not having heard the salesman step up behind
him.
"Well—" Derrick's usual abhorrence for
shopping in general, and intrusive salespeople in particular, warred with his
desire to find exactly the right ring for Mia. It had to be perfect. At the
rate he was going, he could spend half the day in here and not succeed. He
sized up the elderly gentleman standing next to him and took the plunge.
"I'm looking for an engagement ring."
"Congratulations, congratulations. You've come to the
right place. My name is Garreth." He extended his hand to shake Derrick's,
who responded in kind.
Introductions completed, Garreth said, "Well, now, tell
me about your intended. What sort of style does she prefer?"
Derrick hesitated. How could he sum Mia up in a few words
and get across exactly what he was looking for, when he didn't even know what
he was looking for?
Reading him correctly, Garreth backtracked. "Let's
start with an easier question. What is her stature?"
"Ah, she's about this tall," Derrick said,
indicating the underside of his chin, where she fit perfectly for snuggling.
The salesman proceeded to lead him through a series of
rapid-fire questions, establishing Mia's physicality, lifestyle, fashion sense,
and more. Tapping his chin, Garreth led Derrick from case to case, pointing out
a ring here, a ring there, but still, none gave him the kick in the chest he
was waiting for. Jeff joined them after a while, a small navy-blue-and-white
striped bag in his hand. His own quest fulfilled, he got into the act, making
suggestions, conferring with Garreth, bouncing around the store as though he
were performing on stage.
Finally, they wound up at the back of the store,
around, Jeff said, "Sorry. This is happening pretty fast. You made your
first move last night, and now here we are looking at rings. Are you sure you
want to do this already? Don't count your chickens and all that."
"I'm sure."
His expression turning serious, Jeff considered him, tapping
one hand on the side of his thigh. "I have to say something, and I don't
want you to take this the wrong way, but. . ."
"What?" Derrick asked when the pause dragged out.
"It's just—you're my best friend, you know that.
And I love you. But I love Mia, too. I don't want to see her get hurt again,
and I'm worried about this. What happens if it falls apart?"
Derrick placed a hand on Jeff's shoulder and met his
friend's eyes squarely. "It won't. I won't let her be hurt, Jeff. I love
her."
"What did Allison say?"
"To go get her. You know Alli."
Jeff studied him another moment, much like Allison had.
"All right then. If you're sure."
Derrick merely looked at him.
Shrugging in acquiescence, Jeff gave a theatrical shimmy,
evidently some sort of drag queen voodoo to banish his uncharacteristically somber
mood. Back on form, he skipped down another row of cases, flitting here and
there and back again like a manic ballerina.
There was something about a six-foot-four, very muscular man
skipping across an upscale store's dignified selling floor that made Derrick
want to laugh. Maybe it was the expressions on the other customers' faces.
When Jeff stopped abruptly, Derrick nearly plowed into his
back. Tapping a coral-tipped fingernail against his chin, Jeff perused the
display case, then pointed to an ultra-modern twist of gold-and-platinum set
with three round-cut sapphires.
"How about that one?"
Derrick made a face. "Hideous."
"I like it," Jeff said, peering closer.
"Then buy it for Greg."
"Ha," he said. Then, considering, he leaned over
it again. "The stones match his eyes."
Derrick rolled his. "Perfect. Now can we get back to
finding the one for Mia?"
"Sure, sure," Jeff answered absently, at the same
time gesturing one of the saleswomen over.
Tuning out their chatter, Derrick pored over the rest of the
rings in the case. None seemed quite right. Moving on, he left Jeff haggling
over the gift for Greg.
"May I offer you some assistance, sir?"
Derrick jumped, not having heard the salesman step up behind
him.
"Well—" Derrick's usual abhorrence for
shopping in general, and intrusive salespeople in particular, warred with his
desire to find exactly the right ring for Mia. It had to be perfect. At the
rate he was going, he could spend half the day in here and not succeed. He
sized up the elderly gentleman standing next to him and took the plunge.
"I'm looking for an engagement ring."
"Congratulations, congratulations. You've come to the
right place. My name is Garreth." He extended his hand to shake Derrick's,
who responded in kind.
Introductions completed, Garreth said, "Well, now, tell
me about your intended. What sort of style does she prefer?"
Derrick hesitated. How could he sum Mia up in a few words
and get across exactly what he was looking for, when he didn't even know what
he was looking for?
Reading him correctly, Garreth backtracked. "Let's
start with an easier question. What is her stature?"
"Ah, she's about this tall," Derrick said,
indicating the underside of his chin, where she fit perfectly for snuggling.
The salesman proceeded to lead him through a series of
rapid-fire questions, establishing Mia's physicality, lifestyle, fashion sense,
and more. Tapping his chin, Garreth led Derrick from case to case, pointing out
a ring here, a ring there, but still, none gave him the kick in the chest he
was waiting for. Jeff joined them after a while, a small navy-blue-and-white
striped bag in his hand. His own quest fulfilled, he got into the act, making
suggestions, conferring with Garreth, bouncing around the store as though he
were performing on stage.
Finally, they wound up at the back of the store,
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