Green Stone Ring Read online

  They drove out of Boston on 1A, the scenic route. He remembered their college days once again; Gini had always insisted they get out somewhere near the water so she could watch the waves.

  He stopped in Lynn and parked near the cement outpost that looked out over the water. They went to the farthest end and looked down at the waves dancing up over the rocks below.

  After a while, she turned to him. “I haven’t been up here for so long.”

  She hadn’t put on her coat, thinking it was warm enough, but a freshening wind gust hit them, and she shivered. She folded her arms up close to the front of her body and pulled her shoulders up to her ears. “It’s beautiful!”

  He stood up close behind her to block the wind, took off his jacket, and put it around her shoulders. Since she wasn’t wearing high heels, she hit him about mid-chest. Ric put his hands on her shoulders. She felt another big chill and shivered.

  He leaned over and got close to her ear. “We’d better get back in the car before you get too cold.”

  Gini was reluctant, but turned around and headed back to the car with him.

  They drove on up to Gloucester via Marble Head, through Salem and Manchester. According to Gini, Gloucester House restaurant had the best lobster rolls in New England. It was about three o’clock and the place was nearly empty. They had missed the lunch crowd and were way too early for dinner. The waitress seated them in a booth at the big picture window that looked out over the dock. The fish and shrimp boats were just delivering the day’s catch to the fishery warehouse next to the restaurant. The merchants and others were buying what they needed. Seagulls were flying low overhead, making their loud squawking noise. Gini stared out the window with her chin cupped in her hand; her arm rested on the table. When their lunch was served, she didn’t notice.

  “It’s so peaceful and wonderful here. I could sell my place—yes—sell and move up here. I do most of my work out of the house when I’m in Boston. There’s no problem jumping on the super-commuter to get into town, and if I need to go to DC, just take the super-train.”

  “Are you talking to me?” he asked.

  Gini, still not completely out of her thoughts, suddenly looked at him. “I’m just dreaming and talking to myself.”

  She cut a bite of lobster roll. “Life just seems so slow and laid-back here, no stress, no pressure. How perfect.”

  After lunch, they walked around the shops and through the streets, ending up back at the docks. She once again stopped to watch the seagulls as they dipped down into the water to get the pieces of fish the fishermen had thrown overboard.

  On the road again, he took her up to Rockport, another one of her favorite places. He stopped and parked, and she wrapped her scarf up over her head and down tight around her neck. They walked down the stairs and stood on the small flat rock surface with a guardrail. The overhang was on a cliff looking straight down at the waves crashing onto the large rocks below, sending sea spray high into the air. The seas were churning in advance of a storm system approaching. He leaned forward on the guardrail, looking at the water. Gini closed her eyes, put her head back, and took a deep breath of the crisp sea air. She felt the cool dampness on her face and listened to the thunderous waves pound the rocks below. Occasionally, she could hear a seagull squawk. She opened her eyes as he stood up and looked at her. Another loud wave crashed into the rocks, leaving only a white foam as the water receded.

  She looked at him. “Mother Nature paints a beautiful picture.”

  Just then, a big gust of wind swept by them, and it started to rain lightly. They headed back to the car.

  Inside, Gini unwrapped her scarf and threw it in the back seat. Suddenly she felt a warming against her back and under her thighs.

  “Heated seats!”

  Ric grinned, proud of himself.

  “Did I tell you I love this car?” She snuggled into the seat.

  He wished she would show her beautiful smile. It was as if the warm blaze of her youthful enthusiasm had dimmed and turned to a cold flame. What had taken her happiness—her playful personality? Yes, they had grown older and experienced more of life, but this change was more than maturity—more like a dousing of ice water freezing her spirit.

  On their way home, they went through light sprinkles, sleet, and then heavy rain. Once they got through Everett, the precipitation had dwindled to a drizzle.

  “Pull into the parking garage and go up to the sixth level,” she said when they approached her building.

  “See the elevator sign? Go over there and park in space four.”

  As Ric pulled in, he could see “Owners Only” painted on the wall. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to park here?”

  “These are our two parking spots.” She pointed to the one they were in and the one next to them where a red convertible Audi was parked.

  Ric opened the door for her. “Is this your car?”

  “That’s Red Bessie,” she said with some pride. “I let my hair down, drop her top, and we fly around the city like we own the place.”

  “Well, that’s not such a bad ride either.”

  Gini took him to the back elevator and then up to the eighth floor to her place.

  “I’m not a coffee drinker, but I do have coffee if you want some.” She took his coat.

  “No thanks. I saw some beer in your bar refrigerator.”

  “Oh sure, help yourself.” She put water in the kettle to make some tea. “It sure got cold fast.”

  “And look at it now.”

  He walked over to the big floor to ceiling windows overlooking the harbor. Gini walked up next to him holding her mug of tea. It was once again raining.

  “I had forgotten what a great view this is,” he said.

  “Yeah, every time I think about moving out of here, all I have to do is come to these windows and look out. I love watching the ships and boats and seeing the planes taking off and landing at Logan Airport, especially at night when you can see the lights. Come see what we’ve done.”

  She showed him the balcony they had enclosed. There were views of Rowes Wharf and Fort Independence. But it was cold, and they quickly went back inside.

  Gini turned on the gas fireplace and flicked on the TV to a college football game.

  Ric laughed. “What woman turns on a football game?”

  “I like football.” She looked intense and put her hand on her hip.

  “I know. You as a cheerleader in high school didn’t even know what a first and ten was or even who had the ball most of the time.” They sat down on the couch.

  “I’ve grown up, and you know I love the Patriots; they’re my boys.” She was sitting on the front edge of the cushion looking rather anxious.

  He put his hand gently on her shoulder. “Gini, you’re so cute.”

  “Cute? I’m not sure I want to be cute.”

  “Too bad! You are.”

  She pushed herself back on the couch. He reached over and put his arm around her, and gave her a big hug. He felt like a kid again, sitting there with his childhood friend. How many times at her house had he and Franco wrestled from the couch to the floor with Gini first cheering for Franco and then for Ric when Franco was about to take him down? He had often given her a hug for cheering him on when Franco allowed him to win. They were the only two friends he’d had then. And now they were together again. It made him feel comfortable—an at-home feeling. He was with family.

  After a second, he could tell that she was uncomfortable with the move, and he moved his arm to the top of the back of the couch.

  She got up and went into the kitchen to pour some more hot water into her cup, and came back with a plate full of snacks and put them on the coffee table in front of Ric. This time, she sat in the chair catty-cornered to the couch. She curled up into a ball, holding her mug between her pulled-up legs and her stomach.

  It seemed odd to be sitting there talking to one of her best friends in the whole world. She hadn’t seen him for so long. Part of her felt warm and re
laxed, and part of her uneasy—wanting to pull into her shell and wait for him to go away. Had she forgotten how to act around a friend? She’d had so many friends when she was young, and now her only friend was Catherine—her life all work and no play. She needed to try to relax.

  “Today was fun,” he said.

  “It was. Remember all the good times we had in college?” A happy memory entered her mind.

  “I can see you and Riti now, trying to be brave and go into the cold Atlantic Ocean,” Ric said.

  “It was always so inviting, but oh my gosh, so dang cold. Strange now, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “Sitting here after not seeing each other for so long. You, no longer married. You’re not even a lawyer anymore.” She shook her head as she looked down. “And me, well, married, but thousands of miles away from my husband. So busy with work I don’t have a life anymore.” She looked him in the eyes. “What happened, Ric? What happened to our great friendships, our marriages?”

  He was silent a minute. “Life isn’t always rosy. You can’t just stop living. You must keep going and push through the rough times. We’re still friends, right? Just because we haven’t seen each other for a while doesn’t mean we’re no longer friends.”

  Even though she had brought it up, she wanted to change the subject. The idea of something different in her life scared her. “Yes, still friends.” She forced a smile. A betraying thought flickered through her mind, and she felt a twinge of guilt. Was it okay to be with him alone? It had always been her, Franco, and Ric. She had never been alone with him. But they were friends, and it should be okay to be alone with a friend. She shook it off. No one—Franco—would ever know. It was just the two of them.

  An uncomfortable silence lay heavy in the room. A loud cheer came from the college game on the TV.

  “I think the Patriots might have a chance to go all the way this year,” he said.

  “Me too. They were doing really well until they lost the last two games.”

  After talking and watching the game for a while, Ric said he needed to go. On his way home, he would stop at the grocery store and buy supplies for the party.

  “You’re coming to my place tomorrow for the game?” he asked.

  “Well…”

  “I’m going to make my famous chili.”

  “Oh, I love your chili.”

  “Then the answer is yes.”

  “What can I bring?”

  He thought for a minute. “Bring your brownies.”

  “Brownies, you like my brownies?”

  “Yes, why do you act so surprised?”

  “Because you guys used to make fun of them.”

  “We were just playing with you; you made good brownies, just like Mama Elizabeth.”

  “It’s been a while, but I can make a batch.”

  She took Ric down to the garage.

  “The game starts at four o’clock. Everyone gathers about three-thirty to three forty-five. I’ll come and pick you up about three-fifteen.”

  “You don’t have to pick me up. I can walk.”

  “Gini.”

  “No, I can take the Blue Line and get off at Park Street, then just walk up the hill. You’re the first street off Beacon Street, right? I’m sure I’ll recognize the house.”

  “Okay, text me when you get off the T, and I’ll meet you at the corner of my street.”

  “Thanks again for today. It was wonderful seeing all those places again.”

  “It was a nice break.”

  For the first time in a long time, she felt happy. He was easy to be with. How she longed to have that life again—the four of them all having such a good time together. Why did they have to grow up? Why did life have to get in the way?

  The next morning, she went through the deep bottom drawer in her hall desk looking for the brownie recipe. She had asked her mama to send it to her when she was in college. She had made them so many times in Ric and Margarita’s apartment those last few years of college that she had known the recipe by heart. She could remember everything now except how much sugar, how much baking powder—or was it baking soda?

  As she dug further in the drawer, she found some poetry she had written after they moved into the condo. She had loved reading and writing verses in high school and college. Her life had become so busy she didn’t have time to concentrate on writing, but she had just written one about all the lonely children. This one, however, she had saved in a computer file. She guessed she had been inspired by Franco’s email talking about the children where he worked.

  With that thought, Gini stood straight up. What had happened to their great love? He had always protected her, loved her, and cherished their relationship. She had felt safe, certain they’d be together forever. Had she somehow let him down by not going back to China with him? She felt a moment of anxiety, a twist in her chest, a shadow over her thoughts. Was she really committed? Was she too concerned about her own comfort? She had never thought so… but we can’t see ourselves clearly, can we? In school and her career, she was always moving ahead, proud of herself—was she too ambitious? She felt exposed for a moment as a shallow, selfish person, and shivered. But wait. That was insecurity speaking. Her ambitions mattered too. She wasn’t just his wife; she was a person with her own path to success. It was Franco who wasn’t sensitive to her needs and what she wanted to accomplish in life, not the other way around… But hadn’t he once been sensitive? Hadn’t they been a great couple? Why couldn’t they still make it work? Franco, she thought, where are you? Why don’t you come to me and love me as you once did? She missed him… This wasn’t a marriage.

  After a few minutes, she once again dug through the drawer and then there it was, a piece of paper, obviously well used, with batter-remnant stains on the edges. “Yes!” She grabbed the paper and took it into the kitchen.

  It was a dark, cold, and misty day. Gini put on blue jeans, a bulky sweater, and fur-lined boots with a small heel. She loved those boots, so warm, waterproof, and with a good grip sole that kept her steady on her feet in any weather. She pulled her hair straight back and put it into a high ponytail. Her curly hair made it easy to twirl the hanging hair into one big spiral curl.

  It was about two-thirty; she had some time to kill. She picked up her PET to check messages. She looked up, and the cloisonné box caught her eye. She turned on her tablet and went to her email.

  There was one from Catherine:

  Hey, thanks for all the notes from the meeting with Senator Goodman. I have gathered more data and am attaching it to this message. I think we need to put our heads together next week and get a good plan together, then surge the Hill. Let me know when you can come down to DC. Love, Catherine.

  Gini responded:

  I will look at your information tonight. I’m off to a football party at Ric’s and will be late. If I don’t get back to you tonight, I’ll email first thing in the morning. This coming week is clear so we can finalize when I go to DC.

  GO PATRIOTS!!!

  Catherine replied:

  Oh, missy, it’s all about the REDSKINS.

  Gini smiled and typed:

  In your dreams!

  She laid the computer down, went to the fireplace, and ran her hand over the inlay porcelain box. The ring was dainty and shiny on the silky fabric inside. She slowly slipped it on, then clutched her hands at her chest and put her lips on her fingers. How she loved that beautiful ring and what it symbolized.

  At three-ten, she left to go to Ric’s with a six-pack of beer, the kind he and Franco always bought, and a plastic container of brownies in her big bag. She grabbed her heavy wool peacoat and fashionable woman’s small-billed hat. On the way to the subway, she pulled her ponytail up inside and out through the hole in the back of the cap.

  Ric had his double batch of chili simmering in the Crock-pot. He took the last pan of cornbread out of the oven and “hot potatoed” each piece out of the pan and onto the plate without an oven mitt. Everything was in its plac
e for the party. He had hosted the Sunday football party many times in the past, but he felt a bit anxious today.

  Neighbors started showing up about three-thirty.

  “Come on in,” he said as he greeted each one arriving.

  He kept looking at his watch. When was she going to text?

  At three forty-two his phone vibrated:

  Just out of the station heading your way.

  David and Pam knocked on the door.

  “Here you go, old boy,” David said as he handed Ric a full bottle of bourbon and Pam lifted up a bag full of chips.

  “Get in here,” Ric said, “and get game-ready.”

  David and Ric fist-bumped, and he kissed Pam on the cheek, then took their coats and glanced out the window.

  “Listen,” he said to everyone, “I’ll be right back. Please make yourselves comfortable, get a drink, and dive into the food.”

  He grabbed his jacket as he ran out the door and flew down the six stairs off his front porch, putting his jacket on as he went. There she was, just rounding the corner.

  Pam walked over to the bay window in the living room where everyone was gathering. “Where’s he going?”

  “Maybe he forgot the hot sauce for the chili,” David said facetiously.

  “It’s a woman,” Pam said slowly. “Ric has a girlfriend!”

  Lindsey, Misty, and Ginger all joined Pam at the window.

  “Come on,” David said, “give the guy a break.”

  “No really, David, he’s running to meet a woman coming down the street.” Pam put her hand under her chin.

  David walked to the window to see. “So he has a woman! What’s the big deal?”

  “I hope so,” Lindsey said. “He’s such a great guy. I don’t know what happened with Margarita, but he needs a good woman in his life.”

  “Geez, girls, give it up. He’s a single man; he probably has lots of women.” David headed back to sit in a chair in the living room.

  When Gini and Ric returned, he introduced his friends.

  “You look familiar,” David blurted out. “I think I know you from somewhere. No, no, don’t tell me. I’m going to figure it out.”