Looking down at the light green stone on my hand, I could only wonder who had decided to make these rings. Surely it wasn't Mom or Dad; Mom had her own ring and Dad never needed one. Aislynn's eyes again met mine and I nodded to her unspoken question. It was time to find out about where these rings came from. The only person we could ask, the person who had put the clippings and things in the box in the first place, was Dad. I led the way down the stairs, my fraternal twin following, and walked purposely to Dad's study.
I loved our father's study. He had panelled it in a dark, warm oak that was stained nearly black. The floor was covered in a thick, mossy green carpet. His desk, quite large and sturdy, was made of cherrywood and burnished to a dark red gloss. A small bookcase made of slightly lighter cherrywood sat next to the window. I knew from looking through it before that it held only lawbooks and famous court cases. There was a fireplace on the wall opposite the window and two comfy armchairs stood in front of it. The armchairs were a mix of green and blue and sitting in them was somehow comforting. One felt loved and protected sitting in those chairs. I paused a moment and thought of the times after Mom died that Dad had cuddled me and Aislynn, soothing our fears and nightmares. Dad sat behind his desk, shuffling through some papers and muttering to himself.
"Dad, can we talk to you for a minute?" Aislynn asked quietly. Something about his study made one talk quietly. Dad looked happy at our intrusion, as if something wasn't going well for him. He smiled at us and replied, "Sure, honey. Let's go down to the family room." Dad got up and led the way down the stairs, also panelled in wood, and sat down on the couch next to the fireplace in the family room. This room, like the rest of the house, was panelled in wood but in a light cedar. Aislynn sat on the chair across from the couch as I sank to the floor. She and I were both fingering the rings on our hands and wondering who should start.
At Lynn's pleading look, I said, "Dad, we were cleaning the boxes upstairs when we came across one filled with newspaper clippings." Dad stiffened a little but nodded his head for me to continue. "Well, we read the clippings of your marriage, our birth, and Mom's death. And underneath everything, we found these two rings," I plowed on and thrust our my hand to show Dad the ring. Aislynn mirrored me and held out her ring for Dad's inspection. When he caught his breath in surprise, Lynn and I glanced at each other confused. We knew he recognized the rings, but why was he so shocked? He was the one who put them in the box, right? I felt my certainty that Dad could explain this slipping. Who could have put the rings there if not Dad? Did we have a stalker? These and many more questions tumbled through my head as Dad stared at our rings.
Slowly, as if in a trance, Dad reached out and took my hand. He gently slipped the ring off my finger and looked inside the band. He seemed unhappy with what he found there, a frown line appearing between his eyebrows. He did the same with Aislynn's and sat for a long moment. Wordlessly, he handed the rings back and we quickly looked at the inside band. My ring had Love engraved on it while Aislynn's had Forever. Even more confused, we slipped the rings back on our fingers and shared a long look. What was Dad so shocked about? Suddenly, I didn't want to know. I started to get up and Dad grabbed my arm. He shook his head and I sank back down to an Indian style position. Dad sighed once and then looked piercingly at us in what we called his lawyer look.
"Please, girls, don't tell anyone how you found these. If anyone asks, tell them I gave the rings to you. And please don't lose them. These rings may be very important to you two," Dad said cryptically. He stood up and continued, "Well, I need to leave for a little while to see an old friend. I think he's been trying to talk to me and those rings are his way of calling me. Stay here until I get back and then we'll talk further." Dad walked off muttering and I could have swore I heard him say, "That damned raven. He knew." I shook my head, hardly believing what I heard. What was going on here?