I tried to write a chapter for "Shot in the Dark" or a holiday themed piece for my 101 collection. This happened instead. The idea wouldn't leave my brain alone.
Richard stood in front of his dresser with his palm out. The light from the bedroom ceiling fan made the band of gold in his hand almost light up. The lighting bounced off every worn down imperfection etched into the surface of the simple gold ring sitting in his palm.
His fingers brushed around the simple band, the band that represented his parents' near forty year marriage. To be honest, the thing was beat to hell, but there was something poetic about it. This ring sat on his Dad's finger for as long as he could remember. It never left his finger. While growing up, the symbol provided a small measure of comfort. In his mind, as long his dad kept that ring on his finger, their family would remain whole, steady, and intact.
Maybe that's why this felt so strange. For decades this weight sat on his father's finger, and now it laid heavily in the palm of Richard's hand.
The moment his father pressed the ring into his hand, he felt its weight. It felt akin to the day his dad handed him the keys to the family car. The responsibility. However, this time, his dad wasn't handing over symbolic freedom. No, this time he was handing him responsibility. He had given him the symbol of the glue that held his family together. Richard understood. His father was moving on.
He knew his father wasn't leaving them behind, but trying to carve a new version of the family he'd always known. His father wanted to hold tight to the bonds of the past while forging a new future. He was giving Dickie the responsibility of holding the old together so he could add the new. Even if the new was almost as old as his parents' relationship.
It was, and always had been, Olivia.
Richard had always thought that he'd be faced with a flood of bitterness when this day came. While the loss of his mother still tore him apart, he respected his father's need to move forward with someone he loved. After all, everyone who knew them understood the strange feeling of inevitability. The bonds that tied them together never faded, and decades later the relationship almost felt like fate. Somehow, through every impossibility, they found their way to each other. It was strange to think about, but even through all the grief and pain, it seemed like they were meant to be them. Benson and Stabler. Elliot and Olivia.
His eyes dropped to the small piece of gold in his hand. The band sitting in his palm held years of love, devotion and sacrifice. It stood as a sort of challenge for him to live his life in the same honorable way. A way that made his father proud, and honored the memory of his mother. In some ways it felt daunting, but I'm so many ways it felt right.
He startled when a pair of arms slipped around him from behind. "Ready to go?" Sarah pressed a kiss to the back of his shoulder.
He tightened one hand around the ring, and lifted the other to hold her hands clasped at his chest. His eyes closed, and he savored the firm pressure of her embrace. After a brief moment, he opened his eyes and nodded. "Yeah." He smiled and gave her hands a squeeze before she let them drop. "Let's go."
He slipped the ring safely into his pocket. He felt its weight there, and hoped it would be some sort of talisman of good luck. Not that he would need it. Everyone loved Sarah. It was a little nerve wracking, but it was time.
His fiancé needed to meet his father, and his lifelong partner, Olivia Benson.