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WEST, AKA MAN WITH A PLAN
I don’t intend to askmy cousin Ike to join me in picking out a ring for Alexis. After finishing up with a job, I pull into a jewelry shop. Ike comes from a different direction, spots me, and decides to find out what I’m doing with my time.
Ike is a solid mix of his parents—Donovan’s brown hair and Journey’s blue eyes. In school, Val and I were the showy studs, while people thought Ike was shy. Though he doesn’t talk a lot, there’s nothing timid about him. The guy’s a bulldozer in a fight, tearing through any obstacle.
“Nailing that ginger down, huh?” Ike asks after parking next to me.
“What’s so wrong with wanting to make my love official?”
“Nothing,” he says, running his hands through his windblown hair. “If my ghost girl was real, I’d nail her down immediately.”
A year ago, Ike was beyond blitzed on butter pecan moonshine when he wandered into the woods and got lost. He claims he spoke to a restless spirit under the moonlight. According to him, she was the most beautifully delicate yet powerful creature on the planet. The next day he woke up miles from home, alone and suffering the mother of all migraines. Despite clearly hallucinating his encounter, he’s unable to let the memory go.
While others mocked his obsession with a ghost, I sympathized. My dream girl was gone for so long that I got to thinking she wasn’t real. But Alexis returned to me while Ike remains fruitlessly obsessed with a booze-flavored fantasy.
“I don’t know what Alexis would like for a ring,” I say as we walk into the store and instantly gain the flirty attention of the sales ladies.
“Get her something really fancy. Poor chicks need the most bling.”
Imagining her flashing shiny temptation at Penny’s Best Pizzeria, I ask, “What if someone steals it from her?”
“You’ll hunt down the thief and get it back. Shouldn’t be hard. Most of the thieves around here have a last name you know well.”
“My dream girl deserves everything, no matter her father’s last name.”
The shop lady shows us too many options. I can’t tell what’s best—the biggest rock or the most expensive design?
“I don’t know,” I say, gripping the counter and flashing a frown at Ike. “How would you decide?”
For several minutes, Ike stares at the three diamond engagement rings still placed before us. I almost think he’s daydreaming, but then he nods.
“It doesn’t matter. Alexis never got anything special growing up, right? You could give her a hundred-dollar ring, and she’d feel like a queen. Just pick whatever is prettiest to your eye or even do eeny, meeny, miny, moe,” he says before instantly changing gears. “No, wait, get the cheapest.”
“What?”
He smiles and nods at whatever idea is stuck in his head. “Like, I said, she’ll be happy with whatever you give her. But wedding rings aren’t surprises. You have to sit down and pick them, right?”
The clerk stops staring at us and nods at his question.
“So save up your money for the special forever ring,” Ike says and shrugs. “That’s what I would do, anyway.”
“That’s a good idea,” I say and spot something nearby. “Is that ring orange?”
The woman replies, “It’s a fire opal engagement ring.”
“Orange like her hair?” Ike asks as if I’m a ginger perv.
“No, like her crystal ball.”
“Cool and quirky like your chick.”
I look at the ring with its oval jewel surrounded by sparkling diamonds. No matter what I tell Ike, the design also makes me think of Alexis—vibrant in a dull world.
After buying the ring, I thank my cousin and ride to the duplex. Alexis has a few hours before she needs to be at Penny’s Best Pizzeria. I pick her up and smile at how she’s wearing the same shirt as the day we reunited. That gives me an idea.
Soon, her arms are wrapped around my waist as her body moves with the bike’s momentum. She’s getting the hang of riding bitch.
I park the motorcycle in front of Pam’s Pizza. Alexis climbs off and studies our location. She looks at me, confused about my surprise.
