“No. I’m an old fashioned man. I wouldn’t ...”
“Then why have you been avoiding me?”
“Lucy, we live so close to each other that if we become an item, and then have to break it off, it will be awkward for both of us.”
“More awkward than this?”
But it’s not awkward. Being with Lucy feels natural. She’s as elegant as ever in my apartment; at ease with me in an extraordinary way, not in the obsequious way that so annoyed me from so many other single women, back in Franklin. Lucy is my equal in so many ways. She’s in fine health; she can look after herself. Exactly why am I afraid?
A ray of sunlight strikes glints off her rings, shooting sparks across my ceiling, and I lean away.
“Is it my diamonds, Dirk?”
“As a matter of fact, Lucy, my friend Walt, the divorce attorney, does say that a lot of diamonds on a single older woman sends warning signals.”
“You’re kidding me. Is that all?” She slips one of her rings off a finger and holds it out to me. “Here. Would you like it?”
“Lucy ...”
“I’m serious, Dirk. If that’s the issue, have them all.” She begins to pull them all off her fingers, to pile them in her lap. She gathers them up in a jangle and holds them out to me on her palm.
“Lucy, that’s not necessary.”
“Apparently it is. You make such a big deal of my diamonds, as if only a man could have bought them for me, or a string of men, as if I would only love you for your money. Are you trying to suggest that the way we can converse and what our bodies tell us whenever we’re close to each other means nothing at all? Are you accusing me of offering my love for sale, to the highest bidder?”
“Well ...”
“Traditionally, Dirk, women may have been men’s property and women depended on their support and largesse, and sure, there’s a long way to go in reaching equality of the sexes, but we’re not living in Jane Austen’s England any more. Besides, you have no idea how much money I have, and it’s not relevant; not to me. For all you know, I could buy you out ten times over, buy you five more red convertibles. Would that make a difference?”
“The car is Jamison’s.”
“You’re ignoring my point.”
She goes to stand, to close the door on me, but stops herself.
“But I’m not leaving until I tell you how I see this. This is our second chance, Dirk, and I don’t want us to miss it. You have no idea what I love most about you – from the slim shock of white hair near your scar that proves both your vulnerability and your resilience, to your faithfulness to your wife’s memory.”
I blink.
“I’m being honest about my attraction to you, Dirk, to your kindness – though you’ve shown precious little of that to me lately, but I know it still lurks there in your good heart, and that you’re fighting it.”
I clear my throat.
“I haven’t finished,” she says. “I love the way your grandchildren run to you. I see it from my kitchen window – their little faces all smiles and eagerness. So you can pretend to be cold and hard and distant, but Millie knew it and those children know it – you’re a great big softie, and they love you for it, and so do I.”
I go to speak, but she stands and shows me the palm of her hand, upright, as if she’s a traffic cop.
“But don’t you worry, Dirk. I’m not waiting around for you to propose to me.”
She drops to one knee, right there in front of me, her rings like fire on the gray carpet.
“Because I’m proposing to you. Will you marry me, Doctor Dirk O’Connell MD? I dare you. Let’s put an end to this cat and mouse game once and for all. I’m serious about my diamonds. Have one. Have two. I have plenty, as you’ve already noted. Actually all but Bart’s came to me from my mother and grandmother. Tell your attorney friend that, if he’s so interested. Or do you really want us to have a never-ending standoff?”
She holds them all out to me in the palm of one hand.
“Lucy?”
“I’m serious, Dirk. Come on. Take one. Take them all. For centuries women have swapped their devotion, independence and entire futures for a sparkler. I’m not asking you to do the same. If being together is just about diamonds, have some of mine.”
