One evening over dinner, he mentioned the idea to his girlfriend, Vanessa, hoping she might be keen to join them. Although he knew the trip to the city would hold particular significance for him and Daisy because of its association with her mum, he also felt it was important that Vanessa be part of it.
Their relationship had taken a serious turn over the last six months, and maybe, just maybe, it was meant to be that the three of them should go to New York together.
Perhaps this trip would be a kind of rite of passage into the next stage of his and Daisy’s life? It had been three years since Jane’s death, and Ethan was pretty certain they had her blessing to move on; another of her last wishes before she died was that he shouldn’t remain alone.
“Go and find a woman who’ll bake you bread,” she’d teased in what he knew was a reference to a long-standing joke about their dietary habits.
Jane’s healthy-eating preference meant they rarely ate refined starchy foods like bread or potatoes, something a carb fan like Ethan had always found difficult.
And in the end, it didn’t matter what any of them ate; the cancer had taken her from them anyway.
But he knew there was a metaphorical element to the remark too, and although at the time, he couldn’t bear the thought of moving on with someone else, as the years went by, the feeling lessened. A woman to bake him bread? Ethan wasn’t sure if this described Vanessa exactly, but he did know he loved her and felt she would be the perfect role model for his rapidly maturing daughter.
When Ethan had suggested the three of them spend Christmas in New York together, Vanessa was all for it. She knew the city well, often traveling to Manhattan on business or to visit friends.
“Do you think Mum would be proud of me?” Daisy had asked, and when he looked at her and cocked his head inquisitively, she continued. “She always said she was proud of me every time I trusted myself and tried something new,” his daughter said. “And here I am in her favorite place, trying something new.”
“I can guarantee it, buttercup,” Ethan told her softly, his blue eyes watering slightly. “Do you know who else is proud of you?”
“Yes,” she replied without hesitation before finishing the last of her hot chocolate. “You are. And Vanessa is too. She told me on the plane.”
Ethan smiled. That was all he needed to hear.
Now, as he and Daisy waited together for the Tiffany’s assistant to gift wrap his purchase, he was relieved that everything seemed to be working out. Of course, there was still the small matter of Vanessa’s reaction to all this, but he was pretty certain he knew what that would be.
To the ring if nothing else.
He’d learned from Jane, who used to wax lyrical about Tiffany’s, that the famous little blue box was a true symbol of classic New York romance. According to her, there wasn’t a woman in the world who could resist it, and the store and its wares enchanted the dreams of millions.
Something from Tiffany’s had certainly always made Jane go weak at the knees, and Ethan’s one big regret was that he’d never had the chance to present her with one of their famed diamond rings.
He hoped Vanessa would appreciate it just as much, although he was pretty confident she would, given her appreciation for the finer things in life. Her dedicated work ethic ensured she was able to afford the best, and as far as Ethan was concerned, the best was exactly what she deserved.
Thinking about the cost of the ring, he gulped, once again thankful for those stock options that he’d cashed in a few months before. The shareholding had been a gift from his father, and it was only because of that windfall that Ethan had been able to spend so much on the diamond or indeed a suite at the Plaza Hotel.
“Would you prefer our classic white ribbon for the box or something a little more festive for the holidays?” the assistant asked him. “A red bow, perhaps?”
“Daisy?” Ethan urged, letting her decide.
She seemed to think for a moment. “Definitely the white.”
“Ah, classic Tiffany’s style,” the assistant agreed with a smile. “Good instincts, young lady.”
Daisy grinned again and looked from the assistant to her father. “My mum used to tell me about here,” she said shyly. “She told me that Tiffany’s was a magical place filled with fantasy and romance.”
The assistant looked to Ethan, and he smiled, silently acknowledging that Daisy was at the age where this kind of fanciful stuff was important.
“Daisy’s mum is no longer with us, but she was very much a Tiffany’s devotee,” he told the man. Ethan knew that Jane would no doubt have waxed lyrical to Daisy about the store in the course of her many tales about New York. The love of his life had been a romantic old soul, the type who believed in whimsical things like fate and the mysteries of the universe.
For all the good it did her, he thought, but lately some of that seemed to be coming through in Daisy. Then again, she was an eight-year-old girl who had posters of princesses and unicorns all over her bedroom walls, so he supposed this was normal enough, given her age.
In any case, Ethan would much rather see this more imaginative side of his daughter than the solemn, fretful little girl who, since her mother’s untimely loss, was prone to worrying about the slightest thing.
“Ah.” The man nodded as if understanding. He hunkered down to Daisy’s height. “Well, as you can see, there’s lots of romance happening right here at this very moment,” he whispered, indicating the other customers, all enclosed in their own starry-eyed bubbles, “and I must admit, I myself have experienced a few magical moments throughout my time here. Like meeting you today for instance, young lady,” he added with a wink, and she blushed happily.
Ethan looked on, his heart soaring at the sight of his little girl’s smile.
Then, when the all-important package was nestled safely in the small robin’s-egg-blue bag and the assistant handed Ethan his purchase, Daisy beat him to the punch and grabbed the soft handles herself. “Can I carry it?” she asked, staring at the bag as if it contained something rare and precious.
