“Thank you.” I exhale, forcing the uncharacteristic nervous flutters in my stomach to stop climbing toward my throat.
There’s a knock at the door and my father enters.
He greets the women with the grace and charm of a man who has been brought up to be undeniably at ease in social situations. Then he walks to me, taking me in.
“Sweetheart, you are a vision.”
“Thanks, Dad.” My cheeks glow under his admiration, and he pulls me into a hug, kissing my cheek.
He looks at my face, tracing over every line and curve like he’s taking a mental picture.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes creasing at the corners. “You and Callum make a fine couple.”
The pride in his eyes brings a lump to my throat. My father always hoped I’d follow in his footsteps and become a surgeon. But I don’t have the stomach for blood. My mind could keep up with the study when I went to Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, but my body let me down.
Instead, I loved the figures and statistics that came with patient care. So I switched to a doctorate in healthcare administration, alongside a night course in software development. A move that made things tense with my father for months.
Then I developed a patient record software that has been adopted by hospitals across the country. I met Callum at a medical conference. And finally, my father looked at me with something other than the disappointment of wasted potential in his eyes.
He reaches into his inner jacket pocket and pulls out a blue velvet box garnished with a silk ribbon.
“Callum requested I deliver this.”
He smiles as the girls break into a collective, excited gasp at the sight of the Beaufort Diamond box.
“He did?” I take the box. Velvet glides like butter under my fingertips.
“Chose it all by himself.” He smiles. “I’ll be ready whenever you are, Sweetheart.”
“We’ll come and get you,” Jessica says as he leaves, closing the door softly behind him.
I stare at the jewelry box before untying the ribbon. It seems wrong disturbing its perfect billowy loops that arejust so.
Maybe it’s a necklace. I admired one in the window as we walked past their flagship store on Fifth Avenue last month. Callum must have remembered.
I flip open the lid.
My heart sinks.
“What is it?” Mel asks, peering inside the box. She frowns at the diamond drop earrings set in sparkling platinum.
“They’re beautiful,” Mom exclaims as I lift one out and stare at the twinkly strand of cushion cut stones.
“Cal’s so romantic. Beaufort Diamonds!” Kelly sighs wistfully.
I lay the diamonds back inside the box and touch the pearl earring I’m wearing.
“But I have Grandma’s. The ones Grandad gave her on her wedding day. The ones you wore when you married Dad. I told Cal that,” I mumble.
“He’s been busy planning the wedding and with his work. He probably just forgot,” Mom replies.
The slightest pinch at the corners of her eyes is the only crack in her otherwise perfect performance.
She was so happy when I told her I wanted to wear Grandma’s pearls.
My mouth goes dry as she gently removes the pearl stud and replaces it with the diamonds.
The cold strand immediately feels too heavy.
