See Disclaimers in part 1
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Platinum Blonde 2/3
By Lacy
Flanked by my compatriots, I ask the salesman to show me what he's got
in the way of impressive diamonds. He pulls back the sliding door on
his side of the counter and retrieves a black velvet panel decorated
with rings. It's possible my eyeballs attempt to explode at the
sight of the gems - and their prices.
"Okay, maybe not that impressive," I choke.
He smiles at the pained expression on my face and one eyebrow shoots
up. "I couldn't help but overhearing, sir," he explains discreetly.
"But, you're seeking an engagement ring, yes?"
"Yes," I reply.
"And this woman…? Could you tell me a bit about her? What does she
look like?"
Okay, clearly a guy who doesn't read the papers - which could be a
good thing in this situation.
"She has blue eyes and long blond hair. She's tall, but delicate.
Kind of willowy," I say, recalling CJ's assessment.
"With a frame like that, she wouldn't want anything too ostentatious,"
the man nods. "Have you known each other long?"
"They have history," Sam and Toby respond in unison. I never thought
when I uttered those words that they would become a catch phrase.
"Ah," the salesman responds as though these were all the words he
really needed to hear to begin with. "If I may, sir, I believe I may
have exactly what you're looking for."
He steps down to another glass case and removes yet another black
velvet panel. He studies the rings for a moment, before apparently
finding the one he was looking for.
"It's solid platinum." He speaks reverently as I lean over for a
closer look. "The band is hand engraved from an antique design. The
diamond in the center boasts an Ideal cut, expertly done if I may say
so. It's a three-quarter carat," he tells me. "The four diamond
accents are a Marquis cut, sir. This ring is…meant to be an heirloom.
The diamonds themselves are flawless and brilliant."
Flawless and brilliant -- I can't think of a better way to describe my
Donna.
Soft light, again. I mentioned the soft light, right? I thought
looking for an engagement ring would be hard and time consuming. I
thought I would be forced to fret over the decision for days, perhaps
weeks. That maybe I would have to rely on the opinions of others.
You know, which ring do you think is right for Donna? I would need
help because I'm completely clueless. But the soft light has pulled
my butt from the fire once again.
This is the ring. The diamonds are flawless and brilliant. The band
is made of platinum, which is rare and beautiful. Just like her -
like us. The etchings are from an antique design, which represents
our history. The ring was made to be an heirloom, a symbol of our
future.
"And, sir?" he tells me. "There's a wedding band set to match."
"There is?" I ask.
"Yes, there is." He places a hand delicately on the velvet panel,
pointing out the platinum bands etched with the same antique design.
"What do you think?" I question my friends but I've already made my
decision.
"Get out your wallet, Josh," Sam replies with a nod.
I notice the price of the three rings together and mentally calculate
the damage this will do to my rainy-day-fund. Oh well. What's a
rainy day fund for, if not to spend it on an engagement ring for the
woman you plan to spend the rest of your life with? Not just any
run-of-the-mill-I-put-no-thought-into-choosing-this engagement ring,
but an exquisite ring.
"I'll take them," I hear myself saying.
"Excellent choice, sir. Shall I have them sized?"
"Yes."
"And the lady's size?"
Uh. I'm stumped. I don't know her ring size. I rack my brain trying
to remember. Didn't Donna once spout off her ring size while making
not-so-subtle suggestions about what I could give her for Secretary's
Day? Damn. My brain is not responding.
"I don't know," I reply, weakly.
"Wait a minute," Toby interrupts. "You know her shoe size off the top
of your head, but not her ring size?"
I shrug. "I was working my way up. And how did you know about her
shoe size?"
"CJ's a gossip."
"We work as a committee," Sam chuckles. "As soon as you two got
together, we started planning the wedding. We share information."
"You people are insane."
"No, we just don't have any personal lives." Toby fires back.
"So, what's next? What's after the wedding?" I ask.
Sam, being Sam, smiles mysteriously in response.
I focus my attention back on the salesman, preferring to ignore Sam's
enigmatic leer. "We can come back and have it sized later, right?"
"Of course," the man replies. "Shall I wrap them?"
"Thank you."
The man disappears into the back and returns a moment later, the rings
now resting in two separate velvet cases. He places each case inside
of its own yellow-gold box embossed with the store's name and logo.
He proceeds to fill out the ticket and break the news to me.
I reach into the back pocket of my slacks and pull my credit card from
my wallet. As I hand it to the man, a thought occurs to me which
causes me to snatch it back.
"What now?" Toby asks.
"I can't pay for this with my credit card."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Over your limit?" Sam smiles.
"No," I answer. "Donna sees my credit card statements. She'll notice
the purchase when the statement comes. It could ruin everything."
"When does the statement come?" Toby asks calmly.
I quickly calculate, recalling today's date. "Two weeks," I answer.
"Then you've got two weeks to pop the question. Don't mess around,
Josh." Toby smiles like he knows he's backed me into a corner.
I can just see them asking me everyday if I popped the question yet.
They're going to make a nuisance of themselves. I give in and hand
the credit card to the salesman.
"Well," I mutter. "Gather ye rosebuds."
The salesman returns with a yellow-gold gift bag, my purchases tucked
neatly inside. "Good luck, Mr. Lyman," he smiles.
"Thanks," I say, and then. "Wait a minute. How did you know my
name?"
"It was on the credit card, sir."
"Oh. Okay." I feel incredibly stupid, now. Sadly, a feeling I'm
getting used to.
"But even if it hadn't been, I would've known. The President called
ahead and said you would be coming."
"He did?"
"Yes, sir. President Bartlet has used this establishment on a number
of occasions. He knew that I would make sure you found just the right
ring. He also knew that I wouldn't share this information with
certain people who have a tendency to be more curious than they should
be, if you know what I mean."
"So you won't-"
"Mum's the word. We wouldn't want your fiancée-to-be to read about
this in the papers before you got the chance to propose, now would
we?"
Honestly, this was a thought that had never occurred to me.
"No, we wouldn't," I reply, with a smile. "Thanks again." I hold the
bag aloft to indicate his assistance with the purchase.
"You're most welcome, sir. It was my pleasure."
As we leave the shop and make our way back to the car, Sam and Toby
inform me that we have to go back to White House. The President wants
to 'approve' my choice.
"He understands that all sales are final, right?"
"I think the President could probably get the guy to authorize an
exchange if he wanted to." Sam explains this as though I have no idea
just how much power our boss has.
I have absolute confidence in my choice, so I'm really not worried.
What does worry me though, is that if I show the ring to everyone
before I actually give it to Donna, then Donna won't have anyone to
whom she can show it off.
And don't think the fact that I'm sensitive to this issue doesn't
scare the crap out of me. When exactly was it that I became a female?
I really should do things like catch up on my football, play poker,
go to a strip club - mow a lawn, or something.
TBC
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