That hot August day had turned into a hot August night. My window was open for a welcomed breeze but it looked like there would be none. I was completely naked with only my top sheet for coverage. How I wished Dill could just climb in with me and we could melt together. For now, I will simply wear his ring. I had it hidden in a safe place in my room because knowing the reaction I would get around the house, it was just best if me, Dill and Maudie knew about it and I planned on keeping it that way. So until I'm ready I will only wear this at nighttime or when Dill and I are alone together. I slipped the ring on my left finger and marveled at how much of a different meaning it would be if it were meant for it. The color or lack thereof regarding my birthstone was not doing this ring situation any favors. Stupid April birthday; why couldn't I be like Jem and be born in January? Certainly no one would suspect it to be an engagement ring had I had a red stone. Every one in Maycomb knew the old wive's tale about a bride marrying in red ought to wish herself dead. I like the purple for February, too but I don't think there's an old wive's tale for that...
"Scout," I heard Atticus knock on my door. "May I come in?"
"Sure, Atticus," I say, making sure I am completely covered with my sheet. He walks in with a smile that ultimately grows into a look of concern.
"Am I showing, Atticus?" He was getting me worried now.
"If you mean your new ring, yes you are showing."
Oh my God, my ring! I had forgotten to take it off! And it was on the wrong hand to boot!
"Atticus, it's my birthstone," I say as calmly as I can.
"Are you engaged?"
"No, but it's a promise ring. A promise that Dill and I will love each other no matter what. Though the odds are good we will get married later."
There is no point in hiding anything anymore. Mine and Dill's relationship was a real deal and I don't see a point in trying to hide it now. If I know my father, my Atticus, he would see that I was telling the truth and he would honor me for that. I breathed in deep as he sat next to me and I shivered when he put his hand to my forehead.
"You're okay, Scout," he chuckled as he began to rub my head.
"That feels really good, Atticus," I say as I stretch out. Boy, did this ever!
"I used to rub yours and Jem's heads all the time when you both were babies and little children."
"I remember."
"You children certainly aren't little children anymore."
"We're old children," I say with a giggle that makes Atticus giggle too. His hand leaves my head all too soon and then we just look at each other in a not very awkward silence. It was one of those looks when someone looks at you, you know they see you.
"Atticus," I finally say after a good few minutes.
"What?"
"Why don't you pick out a book for me and I'll read some to you?"
"I will do that," he went over to the bookshelf and stewed over which one he would like for me to read. I could have floated on air at this moment. "Here's one."
"The Gray Ghost, really?" I asked as he finally chooses the book he wants.
"Thought it would bring back memories," he said as he hands it to me.
"Okay, Atticus," I say as I turn to chapter one. It did bring back memories, too. After all these years, there's no place I'd rather be than in this bed reading to my father. I have a lot to thank Atticus for. When a good man raises a daughter, only a good man will do when she is grown. I don't think I could ever repay him but I'm sure that right now, in this moment, reading to him just as we always had done is enough for him.