He did as she asked, pulling it gingerly from the box and placing it slowly on her ring finger, both of them feeling the solemnity of the moment, the vow it represented for the future. Evelyn admired it, her eyes shining, before a look of disappointment crossed them.
“You don’t like it?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She shook her head. “I love it. But I can’t wear it around my family.”
“I thought of that.” He pulled a packet of tissue paper from his pocket and unwrapped it to reveal a thin, gold chain. “You can wear it on this for now.”
“I don’t want to take it off,” she admitted.
“Someday, hopefully in just a few more months, you won’t have to.”
She wanted to repeat her plea, that they drive south that very night. But she knew it would only sour this moment, which she wanted to keep sweet. And he would cave eventually when he realized her father wouldn’t. It was the thought that kept her going when the doubts crept in—she had yet to meet an obstacle she couldn’t get around; it was impossible to imagine one so obstinate that it could defeat her. So she put her shoulders back and agreed, pulling the ring from her finger and placing it on the chain, then holding her hair up to allow Tony to fasten the clasp around her neck.
“I love you,” she said, hugging him tight again. “I don’t have a ring to give you to remind you, but know that it’s just as real.”
He nodded, looking as if he didn’t trust himself to speak.
“Sunday? Same time?”
“Sunday,” he agreed.
Lying in bed that night, Evelyn held the ring on its chain tightly in her hand, savoring the memory of the afternoon.
Not that her family suspected anything. True to her word, Vivie channeled her older sister’s bravado and revealed nothing when Miriam questioned her. And Sam’s declaration at Thanksgiving that she had a Jewish “fella,” as incorrect as it was, took them all off the scent. Her ebullience was attributed to Fred’s fictional suitor status.
Of course, it helped that Fred had called the day before. He was bored in Plymouth and wanted to know if she felt like going for a drive.
“You’re two hours away, you fool,” she laughed, checking to make sure no one was close enough to hear her, and then lowering her voice. “And it doesn’t bode well for poor Betty that you’re bored enough to call me.”
“Maybe not. But I miss my friend. What do you say?”
“I say I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
“Whatever happened to the girl who’s up for anything?”
Evelyn laughed. “She’s quite content where she is, thank you very much.”
“You’re really going to make me stay here with my family for the whole month?”
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that jazz.”
He sighed dramatically. “Well, I suppose if the Pilgrims could survive Plymouth, I can make it another month. But if you change your mind—”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
Miriam, in the kitchen, had paused her work and tiptoed to the door frame, where she could hear better. She didn’t make out what her daughter said when she spoke quietly, but the laughter and the general tone of merriment reassured her enough to trust that her instincts in crushing the dalliance with the Portuguese boy had been correct. Her vivacious penultimate daughter had done exactly as she had hoped. And she therefore didn’t worry when Evelyn borrowed the car and went out on errands and to meet friends.
But when Evelyn heard a footstep outside her bedroom, she quickly thrust the ring and chain back inside her nightgown as the door creaked open.
“Are you awake?” Vivie asked, slipping quietly inside.
“Why do you ask that?” Evelyn scooted over to make room for her sister, who crept across the cold floor to climb into the bed. “If I wasn’t, you’d have woken me.”
“Seems polite,” Vivie said, pulling the covers up and facing Evelyn. “Tell me everything.”
“About what?”
“Everything!”
Evelyn laughed. “We’ll be up all night, then.”
“So?”
“So I’m tired.”
“Fine. Tell me about the boy who called.”
Evelyn rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to talk about Fred. Not tonight, not with Tony’s ring resting between her breasts, still warm from her hand. “He’s a friend.”
“How good of a friend?”