Whether we would have a dog.
How many children we wanted.
Everything was phrased as when.
Never if.
He had been unusually quiet that evening.
Finally, he reached into his pocket.
“I have something.”
I laughed.
“What?”
“Don’t laugh.”
“That guarantees I’m going to laugh.”
“I’m serious, Margaret.”
He opened his hand.
Inside was a thin piece of copper wire.
He had twisted it into a rough circle.
Crooked.
Uneven.
Not remotely elegant.
He looked embarrassed.Packaging
“I know it’s awful.”
I stared at it.
“What is it?”
“You know what it is.”
I did.
My heart started pounding.
Thomas took my left hand.
“I don’t have money for a real ring.”
His voice cracked.
“I was going to wait.”
He swallowed.
“But then I thought… what if I don’t get the chance?”
“Thomas.”
“I’m coming back.”
“You better.”
“I am.”
He smiled, but I saw the fear underneath it.
Then he slipped that ridiculous copper ring onto my finger.
“I’ll replace it someday.”
“With what?”
“A real one.”
He squeezed my hand.
“Gold. Something beautiful.”
I started crying.
He panicked.
“Why are you crying?”
“Because you’re an idiot.”
“That’s romantic.”
“I love it.”
“Margaret, it’s wire.”
“It’s my wire.”
He laughed.
I kissed him.Birthdays & Name Days
Then I told him:
“I’ll wear this one until you replace it.”
Four days later, Thomas left.
Four months after that, his mother received the letter.
I still remember the envelope.
The official seal.
The way her hand started shaking before she even opened it.
We sat at her kitchen table.
She made it halfway through before she couldn’t read anymore.
I took the letter.
I don’t remember the exact words now.
Only what they meant.
Thomas was not coming home.
I slid from the chair onto the kitchen floor.
His mother sat beside me.
We cried together.
I never removed the copper ring.
People told me I would eventually.
They meant well.
“You’re eighteen.”
“You have your whole life.”
“You’ll meet someone.”
I did meet people.
Good men.
Kind men.
Men who probably would have made wonderful husbands.
But no one ever became Thomas.
Eventually, I stopped trying.
Some people thought that was tragic.
I didn’t.
I had a full life.
Thirty-eight years as a librarian.
A small house with tall windows.Gems & Jewelry
