Angela smiled as she came down the staircase and entered the living room, where Tony had set up the little table with the white cloth, the candles, the best dishes, and the Christmas vase full of pink roses. "Everything looks just lovely!"

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Yeah."

Angela was in one of her little black dresses, a far cry from the demure pink silk dress she wore for their second anniversary, five and a half years before. "Thank you. I hope, well, you know."

Tony nodded. "You hope nothing and no one interrupts us tonight."

"Yes." Sam was at a New Year's party and Mona had a date, so presumably neither would drop by. As for Jonathan, he was on an overnight ski trip. (Heavily chaperoned, Angela had checked.) "You have to admit, our track record isn't very good."

"Yeah, but it's almost a new year. Maybe our luck will change."

"I hope so."

She came over and he pulled out her chair for her. Then he settled into the chair not quite opposite her. If they leaned forward, they could kiss.

The food was good, as always since Tony began cooking for her. The conversation was relaxed and warm. Then towards the end, he leaned forward and kissed her, a long, slow kiss.

She heard an odd sound, like something falling into liquid. She pulled away. "Tony, did you hear that?"
"Hear what, Angela?"

"I thought I heard—Did you put something in my champagne glass?"

"Angela! I would never slip something into your drink!"

"No, I mean—Tony, is that a ring?"

"Could be. Why don't you fish it out?"

Her dress was sleeveless (and strapless and off the shoulder), so she didn't have to push up her cuffs to reach into the glass and pull out what appeared to be a diamond ring. "Tony!"

"You like it? It doesn't belong to your mother or anyone, so you can keep this one."

"Oh, Tony, I love it!" She dried it on a cloth napkin and was about to slip it on, but then she said, "Oh, I think you're supposed to."

"With pleasure."

He took her left hand in his to steady it, because hers was shaking a little, then with his right hand he slowly and carefully moved the white-gold circlet onto her ring finger. "How's that feel?"

"It fits perfectly."

"I thought it would. I borrowed one of your rings and took it to the jeweler."
"Without me noticing?"

"You were at work. Oh, and the jeweler asked how I like my watch."

"Did you go to Feldman's? And how did he know you were you?"

"When I asked for an engraving, he recognized the names. Also, my hair still hadn't grown out completely from that bad cut I got this summer."

She stroked his hair. "It looks fine now."
"Thanks."

"So what does my engraving say?"

"Why don't you read it?"

"Oh, I don't want to take it off yet!"

"You really do like it, Angela? You're not just being polite?"

"Of course I like it!"

"Well, I know it's not the fanciest ring, or the biggest diamond. But when we get married, I'll be out of school and I'll have a good teaching job, so I can get you a wedding ring you deserve."

"Tony, the cost doesn't matter. This is tasteful and heart-felt." The diamond was heart-shaped, but that wasn't what she meant.

"Thank you. If nothing else, I hope you really feel engaged now."

"I've felt that way ever since you accepted my proposal."

"Hey, wait a minute, maybe you should be giving me an engagement ring."

"I can if you like, but I doubt Feldman's would be open on New Year's Eve."

"That's OK. This watch was sort of like you pinning me, asking me to go steady."

She smiled. "I suppose it was."

He took off the watch and turned it over. "It's time I told you I love you," he read aloud. "That was a tough dedication to beat."

"Now you've got me really curious." She tried to take off the ring, but it wouldn't budge.

"Is it stuck?"

"Yes, you got it on there really tight."

"I guess I should've let you read the inscription first."

"Yes."

"You could try running it under water. Or over the flame of a candle."

"I've got an idea." She dipped her hand back into her champagne glass and wiggled her fingers as best she could in the narrow space. The ring slid off after awhile, but when she tried to remove her hand from the glass, it was stuck.

Tony put his head in his hands. "Oh, no! We're gonna end up in the emergency room tonight, aren't we?"

"Don't panic. Can you drink the champagne?"

"Out of the glass, with your hand in it?"

"Yes."

"Isn't it supposed to be out of your slipper?"

"Tony!"

"OK, Angela, hold on." He scooted his chair closer and raised her glass, and her hand, to his lips. He drank the champagne down, trying not to spill it, and trying not to swallow her ring.

When the glass had only her hand in it, he said, "Let me try something." He kissed her hand, wet kisses, tasting the champagne on her skin. He felt a little dizzy.

Her hand emerged, the ring in her palm, but she stroked his face with her thumb. "Thank you, Tony," she murmured.

"Don't mention it."

They looked into each other's eyes but then her curiosity got the best of her and she held up the ring to the candlelight. She read aloud, "Our love affair, may it always be/ A flame to burn through eternity." She looked up. "Vic Damone?"

"And Sinatra, among others. 'An Affair to Remember.' Not that we're having an affair, but you know."

"Yes. Do you want to put it back on me?"

"Yeah." He slid the ring back on her finger, so slowly this time it was like a tease. "I could get used to this."

She bit her lip and nodded.

"Um, Angela, maybe we should talk about sex."

"You want to have sex tonight?"

"No, I want to talk about it tonight. Instead of waiting till the night that we have it."

"Oh. What exactly did you want to discuss about sex?"

"Well, not for nothin', we've had some jealousy issues in the past."

"But it's different now that we're together."

"I know, but they may come up in a new way, when we're, you know."

"In bed together?"

"Yeah. I mean, not to brag, I'm probably gonna be the best you ever had."

She smiled again. "Probably."

"But that doesn't mean I'm not gonna wonder if you're remembering and comparing me to your past men."

"I see."

"And you probably will wonder, too, right?"

"Yes, probably."

"So, since this wouldn't be a good conversation that night, I thought we'd just get it out of the way now, while we're alone and hopefully uninterrupted."

"You want to talk about our pasts?"

"If, if, you know, if you do?"

"I think maybe we should."

"Good."

"How much detail do you want?"

"Not that much. Just who you've been with, and generally how it went."

"Do you want me to go first?"

"Well, again not bragging, but you probably have less 'past' than I do."

She sighed. "My 'past' is mostly a matter of why I didn't have more sex."