CHLOE BAKER'S LOST DATE

Chapter Sixteen: We're Going for Ice Cream!

"No, no, put that back," I say to John. "She doesn't want gold."

He looks at the gold ring with the plain solitaire in his hand. It reminds me of my mother's engagement ring, the gold almost gaudy, a blinking light saying "eighties" emanating from it. "Doesn't she wear gold?"

"Sometimes, but not for this. Trust me. She wants a platinum band with a cushion cut."

John's forehead creases. I swear he started to sweat before we even came into the jewelry store. I can't blame him. There's nothing about this softly cushioned and over-air-conditioned environment that says "man", and his white dockers and khaki shorts don't help matters.

"What is that?" he asks.

"It's why I'm here." I look at the assistant behind the counter, a woman in her forties in the best tailored suit I've ever seen. She makes me wish I'd put on something other than this slightly oversized flowered summer dress and that my ponytail wasn't quite so casually messy. "You know what I mean, right?"

"Certainly, miss. If you could just give me an idea of the price range, I'll bring out some selections."

"That's his department." I point to John.

He puts down the gold band. "It's supposed to be a percentage of my salary, right? Or something like that?"

"It's not the 1950s," I say.

"So, what do you suggest?"

I mention a figure that's the amount Kit and I agreed on. Enough for it to be nice and tasteful, while not bankrupting John in the process. Kit handles their finances, and, frankly, most of the other things in their relationship because John's a great vet, but a little scatterbrained otherwise.

John doesn't react when I say the number, which is good of him. My Dad always does a spit-take whenever he gets a bill in a restaurant. I can only imagine what he did when he went ring shopping.

And now that's two times I've thought of my parents today in quick succession.

I shove them down and turn back to the moment in front of me.

"I'll be back in a minute," the assistant says.

"Do you think she's judging us?" John asks after she's left.

"For what?"

"Our price range?"

"Nah. And if she is, who cares?"

He rubs his hands together nervously. "Thank you for coming with me."

"Of course."

"I just don't want Kit to do that thing with her face when I ask her." He makes a face remarkably like Kit does whenever she sees something she doesn't like.

I start to laugh. "That's uncanny. Don't worry, she won't make that face."

"I hope not." He blows out his breath. "Do you think she'll say yes?"

"What? Of course she will." I pat him on the back. "Why do you think that?"

"She's been preoccupied lately."

"Has she?"

He fiddles with the ring in the tray. "Yeah, I don't know. I've asked her about it and she says there's nothing wrong, but that's what you'd say if there was something wrong but you didn't want to talk about it."

"It's also what you'd say if there wasn't something wrong."

He looks at me. He really is worried about this, not just the usual guy about to be engaged nervous. "She hasn't said anything to you?"