me then, sharp and ugly. Two Thanksgivings ago, his sister had squeezed my hand and said, “You’re lucky he’s so patient.” I had laughed because I hadn’t understood what she meant.
Then she told me something worse.
My grip tightened around the phone.
Elaine let out a breath that sounded shaky now.
“Oh, David.”
Then she told me something worse.
Three years earlier, he had asked her for his grandmother’s ring. He said he was planning to propose during our trip to Maine that fall. She had it cleaned and appraised before she gave it to him. She still had the receipt and a photo she had texted to her sister because she had been so excited.
I pressed my free hand flat against the table to steady myself.