Ring Ring.
At 5.47pm, with a big Morelli family party to attend, and an increasingly irritated Morelli waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, I had no time for diasters like no deodorant. Grandma Bella's birthday party was due to start at 6pm, and we had a ten-minute drive to get to Marsillo's. On a good day, the idea of Grandma Bella makes me break into a cold sweat, and the thought of being late had me in a hot sweat, and I was no way going to be talking to Joe's Mother without some sort of anti-odour devise.
"Steph!" I hate that tone. I'm not five; I know we're late!
"Joe!" Take that. Not my best effort, but I'm trying to do ten things at once here. Pull up my panty hose, pack my purse, and ransack every drawer in the bedroom looking for deodorant! Ok, three things, but that is still multi-tasking!
"Steph, I'm going to wait in the car, and I swear to God, you're not down here by five to, and I'm leaving without you!" He's been cranky lately. Used to be me bitching about being late for his Mother. Now, I'm just generally worried about being late, since I've been pretty much living full-time at Morelli's house, and I'm not sure I trust the power of condoms to withstand the power of Morelli's swimmers.
Brain wave! I've seen Morelli sweat (up close and personal), I've seen him use deodorant, and I like the way he smells – I'll use his! Where would a man kept his deodorant? Try bathroom cupboard.
I race into the bathroom, and almost brain myself on the doorframe as I throw myself into the room. 5.51. Not much time. I rifle freely through Joe's bottles, and there aren't a lot of them. Shaving cream, aftershave, moisturizer – whoa, moisturizer? Remember to tease him about that later. No deodorant. Back to the bedroom.
I pause in the great deodorant hunt to pull on my swirly red skirt and matching red heels. Foxy. Then I attack Joe's bedside table. It used to be Aunt Rose's bedside table, so it has pretty paper lining the drawers, and that stops Joe's socks and jocks from catching on the wood inside. And that's what I'm finding. Socks, jocks, jeweller's box…hang on, jeweller's box? Ring sized jeweller's box!
I sink slowly to the floor, propped up against the side of the bed. My chest feels funny. Like I imagine a heart attack feels like. A little voice in the back of my head is saying 'don't open the box!', but I can hardly hear it over the ringing in my ears. So I open the box, and nestled inside is a beautiful diamond ring. A diamond engagement ring. The type a guy'd give the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. This wasn't a rushed into things ring, this was a ring!
It's so beautiful, and so scary! And it's on my finger! How did it get to be on my finger? Oh, right, I put it there. I just wanted to see what it feels like. And it feels…like something's missing. Like, a proposal, maybe? How'd I feel if Joe got down on one knee, and gave me this? I only feel a little sick now, but would I feel so sick I'd throw up on him? What if he asks me in a big restaurant? I'd be so embarrassed! Better try and make him propose somewhere a little more casual, so people won't stare as much if I barf on him.
But what if this isn't for me? What if he bought it years ago, for someone else? The box doesn't look new. What if he bought it for Terry, way back when they were in high school? I can't take a second hand ring! What if he's not planing on asking me? What if he's planning on asking someone else! That would explain why he's got a ring, and hasn't proposed yet.
The glowing red numbers on Joe's bedside clock catch me eye. Crap! 5.57! What if he's left without me! He must be seeing someone else. I feel awful – like I've got the flu coming on. I go to take the ring off and put it back into Joe's draw, when a voice from the door stops me.
"I bet you figured out about Santa pretty quick."
It's Joe, and he looks amused. I'm not amused, I feel sick and nervous. I don't know why, it's not like I wanted to marry Joe! Did I?
"What?" My voice sounds breathy. Maybe I do have the flu, I feel like I'm going to throw-up.
"You have to have found all your presents early. I bet your Mum hated it."
"I never believed they were for me." I go to take the ring off.
Joe lays his hands on mine. "Oh no, once its on, its not coming off. You're mine now, cupcake."
He's giving me that look, like I've been had. Hang on a minute; did he just say I'm his? Did I just get engaged!