London, England
July 2017
Better take your diamond ring
We keep our engagement secret for one, blissful day. One day that belongs just to us. One day that allows us to revel in our happiness. One day that we share with no-one but each other.
We take one day just for the two of us – and on Sunday, we tell our families.
Sunday is a convenient day to do it, too. It's when my family is coming together on Skype for our shared cooking lessons anyway, so we don't have to organise a get-together. Seeing as Ken and I asking them for a joint call would likely have tipped them off, attaching our news to the cooking call is a much more subtle way to do it.
The cooking lessons, I should explain, were Shirley's idea, improbably enough. He suggested that we get together on Skype on a regular basis and all of us cook a dish according to the directions of Marilla or Joy or whoever else feels summoned to instruct us. When it was suggested, I immediately roped Ken into joining me, not only because my family usurped him as theirs in the same way his family made me one of their own, but also because with him there, the chances of my meals coming out nice and tasty are much higher.
Thus, his presence during the Skype call raises no suspicion as we measure and pour all the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies (as requested by Jem and Izzie, naturally). Watching them cook (or bake, I suppose), I'm secretly a little pleased that my family is none the wiser. Not that I want to keep my news from them for much longer, but I like the thought that when I do tell them, it will truly be a surprise.
That's the plan, at least – and as all plans do, it goes awry about halfway through.
I'm just reaching past Ken to grab the chocolate chips when a loud voice suddenly rings out, "Stop! Everyone freeze!"
And everyone does, me included.
Di was the one who spoke and as everyone else waits, motionless and visibly confused, she leans closer towards her screen and peers at it through narrowed eyes.
Then – "Rilla, move your hand closer to the camera, please," she demands (for it is a demand, despite the 'please' she tags on there, probably in light of the fact that various grandparents are listening).
Immediately, all baking is forgotten as my family members drop whatever kitchen utensil they've been holding and scoot closer to their respective screens, near identical looks of curiosity on their faces.
I hesitate.
I knew the jig was up as soon as Di spoke, but I'm not quite ready to comply so easily. Thus, with a sweet and pretty smile, I raise my ringless right hand and hold it in front of the camera, wiggling my fingers for good measure.
Cue collective groans of annoyance from all over North America.
"I think she meant the other one," Katya deadpans, she alone seeming more amused than annoyed at the situation.
Next to me, Ken laughs quietly.
"Oh?" I feign surprise. "You mean this one?"
And with that, I raise my left hand to join the right one, my diamond ring now in full view of the camera and thus, in full view of my family.
(Yes, I know I should have taken it off to bake, but it's so pretty and I got it so recently that I couldn't bring myself to do it. In fact, I might or might not have worn it to bed last night because I didn't want to part from it. Ken might or might not have teased me mercilessly about it.)
"That is a ring," comments Walter, sounding rather less eloquent – and less clever – than he actually is.
"A diamond ring," Jem amends, not sounding very clever himself.
Faith, fittingly, rolls her eyes at her husband. "Yes, thank you, Captain Obvious."
"I thought Jem was Doctor Strange?" I ask innocently.
Shirley chuckles. Everyone else ignores my remark.
"If you're wearing a diamond ring, are we allowed to assume…?" Joy trails off, raising both eyebrows.
I grin.
Ken leans over to kiss my cheek before turning to the camera. "Rilla asked me to marry her and after much deliberation, I consented."
"Oi!" I protest, swatting at his chest. "That's revisionist! You did not need to deliberate for a single second!"
"But you did ask him to marry you?" Nia wants to know, not sounding like she disapproves at all.
"He made me," I grumble and glare at Ken – but it's only for show and he knows it, as shown by the wide smile he gives me in return.
"At least that explains why no-one came to ask my permission," Dad remarks, his voice dry, but his eye shining with humour.
"You didn't ask my permission either before you proposed to Anne," Grandma Bertha reminds him, not missing a beat.
Nan snorts with laughter. "Yeah and besides, no-one asked your permission, Dad. Or did you?"
The question is directed at Jerry standing beside her. He quickly shakes his head and ducks out of the way. (Poor guy probably knew why he forwent that tradition, given his and Nan's history.)
"Um… actually…" That's Dan, looking a little sheepish and raising a hand. Joy, grinning, leans over and pats his cheek.
"Like he was going to say No to you, Dan," Jem scoffs. "You already had her knocked up."
Grandmother Marilla clucks her tongue. "Language, James."
"He has a point, dear," remarks Grandpa John. "There's no use closing the barn door long after the horse has bolted."
"Speaking of horses bolting…" Clearly, Di, in true Di fashion, sees no reason to beat around the bush.
I roll my eyes, but even as I do, I notice the rest of the family falling quiet. They would never admit it, but boy do they all want to know the answer to the question Di didn't ask.
"All horses are firmly in the stable," I reply, wincing slightly at how bad that sounds. "Joy had the pregnant bride thing well covered on her own."
Jake, hitherto quiet, matches my wince. "Can we please stop talking about that?"
I feel you, kid!
"We haven't had an out-of-wedlock baby yet," muses Nan, appearing thoughtful. Then, her face suddenly brightening, she exclaims, "Shirley! We're counting on you!"
Shirley quickly raises both hands. "Can we not talk about that either? I'm not even dating anyone!"
I feel you, too, kid brother.
"What are we not talking about?" Izzie pipes up, her face suddenly appearing on the screen in front of her parents and brother. Her mouth is smeared with chocolate, which probably explains why we haven't heard a peep out of her in the past minutes. Looking at her, I'm not too hopeful that the Raine family's cookies will have too many chocolate chips in them, to be honest.
"Nothing, sweetheart," Dan tries to placate her.
Izzie gives him the side-eye to show that she believes not a word of what he says, but doesn't argue the point. Instead, she disappears sideways from the screen and I have a sure feeling that action spells the demise of the final rest of chocolate chips left in the Raines' kitchen.
Jake, seemingly following a similar train of thought, turns to follow her. Before he does though, he throws a casual "congrats, Aunt Rilla, Ken" over his shoulder and gives a quick thumbs-up.
The effect his words have on the rest of the family is amusing, to say the least. Within five minutes of learning about my engagement, they managed to discuss Joy's state of pregnancy at her wedding, Dad not getting permission to marry Mum and Shirley being the only chance left for an illegitimate baby in the family, but before Jake did it, no-one thought to congratulate either Ken or me. It dawns on them nearly at the same time and their facial expressions are pretty funny.
Evidently, Mum thinks so, too, because she laughs softly. Mum, who hasn't uttered a single word ever since she told Nia which cup-size to take to measure the sugar. (And don't think for a moment that her silence escaped me!)
"I was wondering when anyone would notice," she remarks, still looking distinctly amused.
"We were just…" Walter begins, but doesn't finish the sentence, probably because he has no idea how to.
Mum doesn't pay him any attention anyway. Instead, her eyes move to look at something slightly to the left of her and I know that that's where Ken and I are on her screen, because her expression both softens and lights up at the same time. "Congratulation, you two. We're all so, so happy for you and we wish you all the joy in the world. I have no doubt that you will continue to be exceedingly happy together and that your shared future will be bright and loving. We love you and we're all completely over the moon about your engagement."
There.
That's a proper reaction to being told of an engagement, isn't it?
Trust Mum to get the words right, as always.
Next to me, Ken bows his head slightly. "Thank you, Anne. We truly appreciate it."
His words seem to be some sort of cue for everyone else, because no sooner has he finished saying them, they all start speaking at once. For the next minute or two, we're inundated with congratulations and good wishes from all sides and I have no doubt that if this conversation wasn't virtual, there'd be hugs and kisses galore.
This is more like it, if you ask me!
I accept everyone's nice words graciously, nodding my head once in a while and smiling. Ken sneaks an arm around my shoulders and briefly pulls me in, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I beam at him and I think I can hear someone coo in reaction. (Nan, probably.)
When everyone has finally run out of ways to congratulate us, it's Dad who has the last word by declaring, "I would just like it be known that if you had come to ask for my permission, Ken, I would gladly have granted it."
"That's a relief, I'm sure," Shirley deadpans. Dad wags a finger at him, causing everyone to laugh.
Katya is the first to grow serious again. Leaning forward slightly, she enquires, "Could we get a look at the ring again, Rilla?"
And here I was thinking they'd never ask!
Only too ready to show off my ring again, I raise my hand and hold it close to the camera. There's some appropriate oohing and ahhing – mostly from the women – as they admire the sparkly jewel adorning my left finger.
"It's gorgeous," Katya declares and I feel a tug of kinship with her. For all she's otherwise so practical, Katya has a pronounced love for all things beautiful and she definitely shares my appreciation for pretty, sparkly things.
"It's a lovely ring," Grandmother Marilla agrees and nods approvingly.
"Way to make the rest of us look bad, Ken!" Jem jokes. Faith elbows him in the side and he winces. She has sharp elbows, Faith has.
Pulling my hand back, I cast an appreciative look at my ring. It's a white pear-shaped diamond set in a simple platinum band. There's minimal fuss, which really allows the stone itself to shine – and shine it does. In fact, it sparkles like crazy and when I move my hand slightly, it catches the light falling in through the window, casting a rainbow on the ceiling.
"Where do you get the ring, Ken?" Joy wants to know.
"I do hope the diamond was responsibly sourced!" chimes in Grandma Bertha a little disapprovingly. (Not that she doesn't have a point though. The diamond trade is a very bloody business, as we all know from that movie with Leo DiCaprio.)
Ken shifts a little. "I must admit that I'm not actually sure you can call it responsibly sourced. I've never heard of anyone being killed over it and it's not the product of any war, but it was mined over a century ago and they weren't very particular about human rights back then, so…"
"That means it's an heirloom ring?" Nan enquires, thankfully moving the subject away from blood diamonds and whether my beautiful ring could potentially be one. (I sure hope not!)
"Yes, it is," Ken confirms, looking a little relieved. "It's part of a larger uncut diamond that was given to Edward VII around the turn of the century. The two biggest stones cut from it are part of the crown jewels now and most of the others were later set into brooches, except this one."
Wa –
Wait a moment.
That sounds…
That sounds awfully familiar.
Could he be talking about…?
"That's the Cullinan diamond," comments Jakes, who's reappeared next to Joy, clutching a near-empty package of chocolate chips.
My head whips around to Ken. "Is it?" I demand to know, my voice a bit too high to sound normal.
Ken shrugs, having the good grace to look uncomfortable. "Part of it. It's one of the chips."
'The chips' is a very euphemistic term for the third to ninth largest stones cut from the original Cullinan diamond. I've seen some of them and it's safe to say that there's nothing chippy about them!
"You gave me a Cullinan diamond and let me wear it while kneading dough?" I moan, feeling a mounting horror at how he stood by as I mistreated a priceless historical diamond.
"If it helps, it's the smallest of the chips," Ken attempts to placate me. "Number nine."
I laugh, slightly hysterical. "No, that does not help at all! This thing must be worth… I have no idea what it's worth, but I know I shouldn't have worn it to bake!"
Ken, bless him, looks slightly confused. "I just thought… I mean, I thought you knew it wasn't paste…"
"Of course I knew that!" I wail, jabbing an accusing finger at him. "But I didn't know it was cut from the largest effing diamond ever found!"
"Language, dear," reminds Grandmother Marilla mildly.
I turn to stare at the screen, briefly having forgotten that we have an audience. And 'audience' is a very apt term, because they're all clearly very entertained by our little exchange. I'm half expecting someone to whip out the popcorn!
The realisation that they're listening to us throws me off for a moment and it's long enough for Nia to ask curiously, "Do we have any idea what's it worth then?"
The question is blunt enough to render everyone speechless for a moment. Only Grandpa John, clearly much amused by everything that's happening, chuckles to himself.
"It's a valid question," Di defends her wife when no-one else says anything. "Don't pretend you weren't wondering!"
"Uh…" Ken hesitates, clearly not knowing whether it's a question he's genuinely expected to answer. I could save him, I guess, but at this point, I'm kind of wondering myself, even if there's a calm and grown-up little voice in my head, warning me that I don't truly want to know.
"I don't think anyone ever put a price to it and I'm really no expert on diamonds, but I was told that this one is 4.4 carats, colourless and potentially flawless, if that means anything to anyone," Ken elaborates, nodding at the diamond still sparkling innocently on my hand.
I don't think it does mean anything to anyone actually and am almost a little relieved that the information is met my very many clueless expressions, when, improbably, Jerry speaks up, "I looked into diamonds a little when I picked out Nan's ring and while can't say how much worth is added by the historical significance, I would estimate that diamond of that weight with a D grade on the colour scale and a flawless quality would be worth about a quarter of a million dollars."
That's…
That's…
That's…
"Canadian or US dollars?" Katya pipes up, sounding genuinely curious.
"US, actually," Jerry replies. "Diamonds are generally traded in US dollars."
As if that makes it any better!
"Well…" Dad remarks pensively. "As a father, at least I can now be secure in the knowledge that if your engagement should fail after all, at least my daughter is set up for life."
"Gilbert!" chide both Mum and Grandmother Marilla at the very same time.
Dad shrugs and grins. "I was just saying."
"Sorry, sweetheart," Mum apologises to me. "Your father doesn't know what he's talking about."
But I'm not even really listening to any of them. Still frowning down at the ring on my hand, I get up from the kitchen chair, not even realising that in doing so, I'm leaving the frame and thus disappearing from my collective family's sight
"Rilla?" Ken asks, sounding puzzled and even a little concerned.
"Come back, darling!" Joy calls out.
"Sweetie, where are you going?" Grandma Bertha wants to know.
I swivel around and take a step to the side, re-entering the range of the camera. "I", I declare pointedly, "am going to clean my ring!"
And that is exactly what I do.
It's necessary, too, because now that I know where this ring came from, the last thing I want is for anyone to catch me not treating it with the reverence it deserves, especially not Ken's family. And as his parents and siblings are, naturally, the next people we're set to tell our big news, it's imperative that the ring is sparkling clean, without any errant bits of cookie dough stuck under one of the prongs!
Thus, when we're sitting in the car to Buck House some two hours later, I'm inspecting my ring very closely for residual traces of the cookie baking session, though while I do, I'm making sure not to hold it up for anyone to accidentally see. This is not the kind of news you want to have broken to the public by some tourist posting some shaky cell phone picture of us in the car on Twitter.
"It's fine," Ken assures me, smiling. "It's perfectly clean and it suits you extremely well."
"I still think you should have told me," I grumble. "I need to know these things!"
"So you can fret about losing or destroying the ring?" Ken asks and raises both eyebrows.
I look at him, horrified. "Do you think it can break? I always thought diamonds don't break!"
"They don't," he placates. "And I'm sure you'll look after it very carefully. You've not lost any of the other pieces of jewellery I gave you over the years and there were quite a few of them."
"None worth a quarter of a million dollars," I point out, unconsciously flexing the fingers of my left hand.
Ken smiles and shakes his head. "You do realise that as my wife, there will be even more valuable jewels in your future?"
Hmm… 'my wife'. I like the sound of that!
"I'm not thinking about that," I inform him. "Right now, I'm thinking about how not to lose this one. Maybe I should secure it somehow. Do you think we could add a chain or something?"
"I think you're fretting," Ken replies, chuckling. "And while it's cute, it's not necessary. Everything will be fine."
Easy for him to say! He's not the person expected to wear (and not lose!) a priceless diamond on his finger every day for the rest of his life!
Perhaps sensing my thoughts, Ken reaches out and takes my be-ringed hand. "If you want to, you can have a different ring. We'll pick it out together. It's no problem."
Immediately, I whip my hand out of his grasp and cradle it against my chest, using my other hand to cup it protectively. "Stop talking such nonsense! I'm not giving this back!" I inform him while narrowing my eyes accusingly.
He stares at me for a moment, before breaking out into deep, belly-rumbling laughter. I smile, satisfied at having made him laugh.
"Okay, then," replies Ken, still laughing. "You get to keep your ring."
I nod firmly and as I do, I notice that the car is already pulling through the gates of Buck House and into the inner courtyard, effectively cutting short that conversation. Ken leans over and gives me a quick kiss, while the car comes to a stop under the porte-cochere and eager footmen scurry forward to open the doors for us.
"Like I said, everything will be fine," Ken promises once more and I have a feeling that he means both the ring and the upcoming conversation with his family. (Like I'm nervous about that!)
While we climb from the car, I make sure to slip my left hand into the pocket of my skirt – a skirt with pockets! – and thus, out of sight of eagle-eyed footmen and housemaids. They'll know soon enough, but the King should be told before news of our engagement makes the rounds in the staff quarters.
Therefore, I keep my hand firmly hidden as we walk along the corridors of Buck House towards the dining room, where Ken's parents and siblings have gathered for a belated birthday dinner for me. It was Leslie's idea to organise it after my actual birthday took such an ugly turn at the end, and I was quite touched when she suggested it.
Everyone else is already there when we enter, but Ken isn't stumped for an apology. "Sorry for being late, but the baking session with Rilla's family ran a little longer than expected. But to make up for it, we brought cookies!"
"Also, news," I add. Somehow, while I enjoyed the idea of teasing my own family by not telling them immediately, with Ken's family, I want to get out news out in the open as soon as possible.
"News?" repeats Persis, immediately honing in on what I said. The other four didn't miss it either, looking at us expectantly as we sit down. The tin full of cookies that Ken places on the table is ignored completely.
"Rilla –" begins Ken and I shoot him a warning look. He better not tell his revisionist story here as well!
"Rilla and I are getting married," he finishes, a slight grin playing around the corners of his mouth.
His words are met with all the hugs and kisses I know my family would have bestowed upon us but for a few thousand miles and an ocean between us. Everyone is on their feet and I'm being hugged tightly and showered with congratulations.
"Finally!" exclaims Persis when it's her turn and grins widely at me. I can only laugh and when I catch Ken's eye over her head, he shakes his head slightly, but he's smiling as he does so.
"We'll be sisters for real now," Amy points out, clearly very excited at the prospect. .
Teddy, when he hugs me, murmurs, "You've been a sister to me for a while already, but you know that." And of course, I do know that, but it's a lovely thing to say anyway and when I smile in response, I know he knows that I agree whole-heartedly.
Owen places both hands on my shoulders and looks at me with pride and affection. "I'd welcome you to the family, but the truth is that you became a part of this family long ago, so I shall just express how pleased I am that my son finally decided to make it official.
"Actually –" Ken starts to protest, but when I quickly turn to look at him, he closes his mouth again. The expression of distinct amusement on his face doesn't budge though, not a little bit.
"Actually?" asks Owen, puzzled.
"Actually nothing," I reply firmly. "I'm just very, very pleased and honoured to join your family, Owen. I already care for all of you so much and you've received me with such kindness that it doesn't feel like something recent, but like you said, it's nice to have it be official now."
"Also, wedding!" pipes up Persis eagerly.
That makes me laugh. "And here I was, thinking you'd be sick of planning weddings for the year."
Persis shrugs. "Nah, I'm all re-charged and ready to go."
"Me, too," chimes in Amy, nodding earnestly.
"Good to know," I tell them, smiling. "I'll hold you to it."
"Of course, I'll also do everything to help," promises Leslie as she steps up to me. "As will these three, even if we have to drag them kicking and screaming." She indicates her husband and sons, a fine little smile on her face that is almost a bit teasing.
There are awkward mumbles from the men, who clearly don't dare defy her directly but also don't relish the idea of wedding planning, but Leslie doesn't pay them any attention. Instead, she draws me into a hug and holds me there.
"I could say so many things right now, but let me just say this," she whispers in my ear, "thank you! I say that not because you'll make a great queen – though you certainly will – or because you will look out for all them – though you will do that, too – but because you've made my son happier than anyone else ever could have. You're perfect for so many reasons but most all for this – you're his single greatest source of joy."
The title of this chapter is taken from the song 'Like a Rolling Stone' (written by Bob Dylan, released by him in 1965).
A/N: As promised, I'm back after a short break, all recharged and ready to tackle what I think will be the homestretch of this story. There are some fun times ahead for Rilla, which I hope you'll enjoy alongside her. As always, comments are absolutely welcome anytime!
Oh, and a special thanks for this chapter goes to DW.618, who had the idea for the Blythe Family Skype Cooking Sessions! They were featured in a sneak peek to a later diary entry of Anne that she shared with me and I couldn't resist nicking the idea for my own use. Her diary entry goes into much more detail about them, so remember to keep an eye out for it!
To ThatOneGirl:
Yes, absolutely! I feel like I've been building and building towards the previous chapter for such a long time, putting the little puzzle pieces together until there was finally a complete picture that allowed Rilla to fully utilise her voice. It's a very satisfying feeling, isn't it? ;) It's not the end of her journey, but to me, it might be the biggest step she had to take. There's such an incredibly power to words and speech, as Rilla is seeing here, and she manages to use her own voice to do good for others and herself. She also does it deliberately and honestly, especially in her conversation with Ken and I think we can all agree that the outcome is very pleasing. That proposal has been a long time in the making, after all! And now that the family have been told, too, on to some wedding planning in the next chapter...
To DogMonday:
I'm sorry to hear things are hectic for you! I hope it's not the bad kind of hectic and that everything settles down for you very soon!
To me, chapters 117, 118 and 119 are really one big chapter in the way they're laid out. I wrote all three in the span of just a few days, too, so they feel like a unity to me. I just figured no-one would appreciate a 15.000-word monster chapter, so they got chopped down into three parts ;).
I've been working towards this exact proposal for a long, long, long time now and was quite a bit anxious whether I'd managed to nail it. This is Rilla's story, but it totally charts Ken's progress alongside hers (and I love what you said about it, because that's exactly what I was going for with him and it feels deeply satisfying that you're seeing it this way, too!) and I wanted the proposal to happen in a way that showed their development, both as a couple and as individuals. To me, what was most important was that it would feel mutual, more of a team effort than one person having to do all the work. She technically asked the question, but he had the ring, so they're really doing this together. Also, I always felt they're at their best when they're joking and bantering with each other, so to have their proposal happen in just such a light, joke-y moment felt just right. There's not grand romantic gesture, but there's mutual, loving understanding and agreement about taking that next step together.
Now, as for Rilla's speech, that was most definitely too wordy and too repetitive. I meant for it to be, especially in contrast to Ken's more concise remarks. He probably has a stump speech memorised that he can break out for moments like these and tweak accordingly, but she was making it up from scratch. In my experience, when people are unprepared and nervous, they speak too much and too quickly, while also repeating things too often. That's what I had Rilla do here to show that she's doing this unprepared and with just a few seconds of warning to figure out what she wants to say. Suffice to say there's media training in her future and she will learn to keep things more to the point, but this was just her trying to put voice to thoughts that she herself was barely able to grasp in that moment.
I think this chapter answered some of your questions already and the upcoming two chapters should answer some more (specifically about the wedding planning, Rilla's job at the youth centre and how they're going to reveal their engagement to the public). From here on, the focus will be very firmly on the wedding and on Rilla's progression into life as a princess. We'll take the occasional detour at times, but there's a clear goal to work towards now ;).
And yes, the story is a soap story in some ways! Nothing wrong with it either, is there? The shoe certainly fits. It has the regular instalments, of course, that interconnect to form larger storylines and it allows me to take all the time and space I need to roll out the plot as slowly and precisely as I want to. Also, to me, soaps are very much about interpersonal interactions, focusing on characters and their relationships to others, as well as the progress of characters in an everyday kind of setting, both which are key points of my writing. So, yes, I'll stick that badge to my story and I dare say the story will wear it with pride!
Lastly, allow me to thank you for the incredibly lovely and encouraging words at the end of your review. In what are not always easy times, it's reading words like those that are so very important and so very helpful when it comes to picking myself up and keeping on. Thank you, truly!