Miss Julia Meets Her Match (28 page)

“I’ll just stand and walk out, not up. I’ve thought about it, Hazel Marie and, if Sam can’t stop him from publicly humiliating me, I’ll just move my letter. Maybe to the Episcopal church. They’ll be glad to have me.”

Lillian and Latisha were long in bed, but Hazel Marie and I waited up for the shoppers. She’d gone to the window half a dozen times, hoping to see Sam and Little Lloyd turning in. By this time, though, I, too, was becoming concerned, since it was after eleven and long past the child’s bedtime. Sam’s, too, for that matter.

“Hazel Marie,” I said, putting aside the newspaper I’d read all the way through without becoming any more informed than I already was. “Try not to be so anxious, you’ll make yourself ill. You know Sam’ll take care of him, and I’m sure they’ll be here any minute. Though why they had to make that three-hour trip, I don’t know.”

“It’s awfully late,” she said, peering again through the window. “I just hope they’re not stranded on the side of the road somewhere. Believe me, Lloyd is not leaving this house again without a cell phone with him.”

“I expect they had dinner and left after that. So they’re not very late at all.” I wouldn’t tell her, but Sam was going to hear from me for keeping that child out till all hours of the night.

“Oh, here they are!” Hazel Marie cried, and almost tripped in her haste to get to the door.

Little Lloyd barely got inside before he was scooped up and hugged by his mother. Sam came in close behind the child, while they both tried unsuccessfully to hide their beaming expressions.

As Hazel Marie almost smothered him, Little Lloyd grinned over her shoulder at me and said, “We did some major shopping today. Just wait till you see.”

“Don’t let the cat out of the bag yet,” Sam told him, as he did a little grinning of his own. He looked so good that I was tempted to give him the same kind of welcome Hazel Marie was giving Little Lloyd.

“Oh, that’s right,” the boy said. “Mama, it’s time for us to go to bed. Say good night and let’s go.”

“But I want to hear about your trip,” she said.

“I’ll tell you in the morning.” Then pulling her down so he could pretend to whisper in her ear, he gave me a laughing glance, and said, “Mr. Sam said we had to go to bed.”

“Oh,” Hazel Marie said. Then, “
Oh!
Now I get it. Good night, Sam. Thanks for taking Lloyd with you. Good night, Miss Julia, and I mean a
real
good night.”

Little Lloyd, still beaming with their secret, started toward the stairs, then turned back. “Thank you, Mr. Sam. I enjoyed going with you.” And he shook Sam’s hand, while I looked on with pride at this exhibition of good manners. Then he and his mother left, and Sam and I were alone.

“Well, Julia?” Sam said, with a lift of his eyebrows.

“Don’t
‘well, Julia’
me. What do you mean, staying out this late?” But I didn’t really care, since they were safely home. I smiled at him. “Well, never mind, now that you’re here. Have a seat, Sam. Is it still raining?”

“Just a little drizzle coming up the mountain.” He settled himself on the sofa and patted the space next to him. “Come sit with me, Julia, while I figure out the proper way to present a friendship ring to my sweetheart.”

“Oh, Sam, there’s no proper way about it. But I’ll just sit over here till we’re sure the others are asleep.”

“They know to leave us alone. Now, come on over here. This thing’s burning a hole in my pocket.”

So I did, but with some trepidation, not knowing what he had in mind or in pocket.

“Julia,” he said, as he pulled out a small brown sack that looked as if it had come from a dime store, “I’d like to get on my knees . . .”

“Don’t you dare!”

“. . . but I’m afraid I couldn’t get back up.” He smiled at me and pulled a tissue wrapped object from the sack. “And of course, being fully aware that this is merely a friendship ring, I’m not sure kneeling is in order, anyway.”

“It certainly is not. And you’re making too much of this, Sam. Just get on with it.”

He unwrapped the ring and held it up in front of me. Then he put his other arm around my shoulders. “Julia,” he said, his voice steady and sincere but his eyes were twinkling with humor. “It would please me more than I can say to see you wear this ring as a token of our deep and enduring friendship.”

Lord, my breath caught in my throat, and I thought I might pass out. Not from what he said, since that was nothing particularly new, but at the sight of that dark blue stone, set in sterling silver and surrounded by glittering zircons. It looked real enough . . . well, to be real.

“Oh, my goodness, Sam,” I managed to say, “it’s beautiful. Just perfect, in fact, and I know it’ll fool some people who wouldn’t know a diamond from a diamonique.”

Actually, it was going to create a sensation, since the thing was remarkable for size and sparkle. It went beyond anything I had envisioned and, if I’d not been dead set on showing the town how little I cared what they said about me, I would’ve refused it. The thing was gaudy, if you want to know the truth, and not at all like the sedate and classic pieces in my jewelry drawer.

“I’m sure it will, sweetheart,” Sam said, then lifted my left hand to place it on my finger.

I quickly switched hands, holding out my right one. “Mind yourself,” I said.

With a laugh, he slid it on my finger, and clasped my hand. “I’ll take either hand I can get.”

I closed my eyes and, for a moment, allowed myself to feel the thrill of belonging to this man, while at the same time sadness filled my heart because it just wasn’t expedient to make that belonging permanent. In that sense, a ring made of paste, no matter how beautiful, was the perfect symbol of what was between us.

But even as a symbol, it was a knockout. I held my hand up to admire it. “If I didn’t know better,” I said, wiggling my fingers to see the ring sparkle in the lamplight, “I’d be fooled, myself.”

“That’s the idea,” he said. Then, at my quick look, he added, “You wanted it to look real, didn’t you?”

I nodded and smiled with pleasure. Then Sam said something else, and I kept smiling and nodding. But after that, what he said and what he did are best left untold.

As I readied myself for church the next morning, it was all I could do to keep my heart from jumping out of my chest. I didn’t know which was sending jolts of adrenaline through me more—the dazzling ring on my finger or the prospect of showing it off for the first time. It made me feel warm all over whenever I looked at it.

Hazel Marie noticed it the minute I walked into the kitchen for breakfast. She gasped and grabbed my hand, turning it first one way, then the other. “Is this what Sam gave you? Oh, Miss Julia, it is drop-dead gorgeous. Look, Lillian.” And she dragged my hand, with me trailing along, over to wave it in front of Lillian.

“Get a load of this, Lillian,” Hazel Marie said. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”

“Not in all my born days,” Lillian said, reaching a finger out to touch it. “That thing ’bout blind me with all them sparks flyin’ off.”

Little Lloyd looked up from his cereal bowl. “I helped pick it out.”

“I know you did, honey,” I told him, “and I appreciate it. But you both about went overboard. I wanted big and gaudy, and I certainly got it.”

Latisha piped up. “If it was me, I’d marry that big ole white-headed man, and get me some more rings. I wouldn’t care if he was old as Methuslum.”

As we laughed and Lillian continued to admire the ring, Hazel Marie suddenly demanded, “You know what it’s a copy of, don’t you? Princess Diana’s ring, that’s what!”

“Oh, hardly,” I said, smiling with pleasure at their reaction.

“It does look nice, doesn’t it? Even though I’m not much of a jewelry person, I’m quite pleased with it.”

“Well, you ought to be!” Hazel Marie said. “I mean, those are killer diamonds and that sapphire! If that’s a friendship ring, I’ll eat it.”

“Oh, Hazel Marie, it’s just glass in a sterling setting. They can do lovely things with artificial gems nowadays. Not like it used to be, when anything that wasn’t real looked like it came out of a Crackerjack box.”

“It look pretty real to me,” Lillian said. “Though it so big an’ sparkly, I wouldn’t care either way.”

“Me neither,” Latisha said. “What you grinning for, Lloydy Lloyd?”

Little Lloyd took a great interest in his cereal bowl. “Nothing.”

“Miss Julia,” Hazel Marie said, “that ring is real, I’ll bet you anything. Take it off and I’ll show you.”

I slipped it off and gave it to her. She turned it to the light and squinted at the underside. “Look at this,” she said. “Right there, it says p-l-a-t. You know what that means? Platinum, that’s what. And, believe me, they don’t put glass in platinum.”

I had to sit down to stop my head from spinning, at the same time wanting to wring Sam’s neck for playing such a trick on me. “How much do you think he paid for it?” I asked, as I looked at the ring again, fearing now to wear it. “Little Lloyd? Did Sam pay a lot for this?”

He ducked his head, hiding a smile. “I’m not supposed to tell.”

“Ten million dollars!” Latisha cried.

Hazel Marie shook her finger in my face, and said. “How much it cost is not for you to know or even think about. Sam gave it to you because he wanted you to have it. Now you put it on and enjoy it. It’s certainly going to start people buzzing. Nobody’ll miss that thing.”

She was right. If I had wanted to attract attention, this was going to do it. I reached over for the ring and slipped it on my finger again. I’d wear it to church, let it accomplish its purpose, then have it out with Sam for going so far above and beyond the bounds of friendship.

By the time we were making last minute preparations to walk over to the church for Sunday services, I had myself worried sick about losing the ring. Lord, if Hazel Marie was right, I was carrying around a chunk of money on my hand. And, to tell the truth, I was having second thoughts about displaying it in the brazen way I’d planned to do.

So I decided to wear gloves, then had the most grievous time getting the right one on. Kidskin gloves are just not made to fit over large stones. I managed, however uncomfortably, to hide the ring until we were settled in our usual pew.

Finally, I could stand it no longer—it was either do or die, and I decided to do it. So, during the anthem, I took off my gloves. Then, without thinking, my right hand went up of its own accord to smooth the hair on the back of my head. In the pew behind us, Amy Broughton gasped, and I heard her husband grunt as she poked him. I straightened the collar on the back of my suit jacket to give them a good look, then so very nonchalantly, I grasped the pew in front of us with my right hand and pulled myself forward to whisper a greeting to Helen Stroud and her husband, Richard, who bought and sold real estate right and left. As she turned to acknowledge me, she cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered, “I can’t wait for your party.” Then her eyes fell on the ring and her mouth dropped open. I just smiled and sat back.

I looked across the aisle and saw LuAnne and Leonard in their usual places, and thought about ways to run into them after the service. If anybody could spread the word about Sam’s gift, she could. And I didn’t intend to tell her, or anybody, that it was only a friendship ring—what it signified was between Sam and myself. I knew they’d make note that I was wearing it on the wrong hand for an engagement, but they’d also notice that my left hand was bare, waiting perhaps for a transfer from one to the other.

I tried to put my mind on the service, but Hazel Marie on one side and Little Lloyd on the other kept picking up my hand to admire the ring. None of us had the right attitude for a worship service, I’m sorry to say. But then, it’s not every day that one receives such a momentous token of friendship.

After all the usual rituals—the congregational hymns, the responsive reading, the anthem, the collection, and the pastoral prayer—that led up to the sermon were over and done with, I settled back, determined to keep my mind on what Pastor Ledbetter had to say. Even though he made me mad half the time, I felt it my Christian duty to listen intently to the sermon in case he said something profound. Not like some who gazed wide-eyed at him while their minds were a million miles away or others who valiantly fought sleep or others who lost the battle.

I stiffened in my seat when Pastor Ledbetter stood up in his black robe and, after issuing a welcome to all newcomers, said, “It is my great honor to turn the pulpit over today to my friend in the Lord, Curtis Maxwell.”

As Mr. Maxwell ascended the steps to the pulpit, dressed in another of his tailor-made suits, I thought to myself that if I’d known he was giving the sermon, I’d have stayed home.

Looking out over the congregation with the ease of an accomplished speaker, Mr. Maxwell let the silence grow. Then he held up his notes and tore them in two. “I am going to speak to you from the heart,” he said, “because it’s burdened with the need I see as I travel across this great country. To meet that need, Christian men and women must stand together, spiritually, emotionally, and financially.”

With that, he had my attention and then some. He was a good speaker, I’ll give him that, for there were no hesitations, no repetitions, and not one lame joke. This was a man who was accustomed to giving sales talks, for that’s exactly what he gave.

“My friends,” he said at one point, “the Lord has blessed Abbot County, this church, and each one of you by seeing fit to make this community the home of the Walk Where Jesus Walked Christian Theme Park. He has given you a great opportunity, but where there is great opportunity, there is also great responsibility. It is incumbent upon each one of us to support by our presence and our gifts what the Lord has so graciously given for our benefit and for the increase in tourist trade.”