ERNIE AND ERNESTINA: The Writer, His Wife, and their Afterlife

Book One, Part Two, Chapter 76: Two Winks

I want to do my share to raise funds for the house on Charles Street, so I take my remaining diamond ring to a jewelry shop that also takes jewelry on consignment.

Dan, the shop’s owner, rises from his desk behind the counter to greet me. He’s tall, his Polo shirt spotless, his khaki trousers sharply pressed. He’s casually meticulous.

“It’s old, isn’t it?” he says, when I hand him the ring.

“It’s a mine-cut diamond. The setting’s eighteen-carat gold.”

He takes the ring to a side window. “Such a pretty setting, the way the prongs lift the diamond.” The stone, tiny as it is, catches light and winks at me.

Dan takes it back to the counter and weighs it. “You’re at just over one pennyweight. Why don’t we put two-fifty on it? It’ll make a wonderful engagement ring. I have couples in here looking for vintage diamonds all the time. This one will win someone’s heart.”

“My son and I are raising money to buy a house. It’s a foreclosure deal so we’re getting a bargain, but it’s stretching us.”

“In that case, why don’t I give you a check for fifty dollars for its gold content? That’ll help you out right now. When it sells, I’ll give you your split minus the fifty.”

I take his check. I haven’t worn the ring in years. Joshua won’t want it. If he ever decides to marry, he and she will probably want to select their own rings.

When I get home, I call Joshua. He auditioned for a commercial the other day and is going in today on a call-back. “I got fifty bucks for my diamond ring.”

“When did you and Daddy buy it?”

“When we had the apartment building. I was between a pearl ring and this diamond, but I thought the diamond would last longer. Diamonds are forever, right? We paid ninety dollars for it. We sold my original diamond — that diamond came from one of your grandmother’s rings — to pay for your first grade at Holy Angels. Ernie wanted you to have a good foundation in reading and writing and arithmetic.”

“I have to leave for the call-back now. I’ll call you later tonight.”

I start on my lunch — creamy tomato soup and rosemary-mozzarella quiche, leftovers from a cafe meal — but I soon push aside the food. Something’s bothering me. Almost before I know it, I’m headed back to Dan’s shop of gold.

“I’ve changed my mind,” I tell him. “Here’s your check back.”

Dan gets up from his chair behind the counter, goes to the side window, and picks up a black velvet case with my diamond in it. “I cleaned it. It looks really good. But I’d rather see it on your finger than in this shop window.”

I put it on. It winks at me.