Ficlet: "The Bling"
M:FI universe, a scene several of you asked for -- the ring-shopping after Betty has proposed to Daniel. For the schmoop_bingo prompt "Engagement."
"The Bling"
Betty’s heard as much chick-flick gushing about “blue boxes” as anyone else who loves a romantic comedy, but she has never been one to daydream about Tiffany’s.
“I take that back,” she says, leaning on Daniel’s arm as they walk up Fifth Avenue. The wind tugs a corner of her pink scarf away from her white winter coat. “I daydreamed about the movie ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s.’ But that meant I was daydreaming about getting an apple danish, not a ring.”
Daniel - as of a few hours ago, her fiancé - can’t seem to stop grinning today. He's all in gray and black, like a proper Manhattanite, but his radiant happiness probably ruins the New Yorker effect. “Tell you what. After this, we’ll stop by a coffee cart. That way you’ll get an apple danish and a ring.”
“I like it.” They kiss on the pavement, the morning crowds parting around them - but they don’t pause long. By now, Tiffany’s is open, and her engagement ring is waiting for her.
Engaged. That’s a weird word - something you say about jet engines or rockets before blastoff. But then, it’s all about beginning a powerful voyage, isn’t it? Betty, a born writer, files that away, wondering if she could use it later. She doesn’t want to get too analytical about things right now. This is a moment she’s sharing with Daniel, who she loves so much right now that she feels almost dazed with it.
Besides - this is sort of Daniel’s half of the whole process. Betty’s the one who proposed. While she knows Daniel is thrilled, and that he’s telling the truth when he says he’s not disappointed about not doing the asking himself, she also knows that he’d like a chance to do something as extravagantly romantic for her.
They go inside, the store’s heat a welcome respite from the cold February air. The interior looks just like it did in the movie: Tiffany’s is clearly a place that favors classic style over constant updates. A sales clerk turns to them politely, perhaps sensing the romantic glow that means “diamond sale imminent,” and Betty doesn’t miss the moment when he recognizes Daniel and lights up a bit. “Can we help you two?”
“We’re looking for an engagement ring.” Daniel covers her hand with his on the countertop, and even though she knows it’s the most clichéd, obvious thing in the world, she can’t help going all gooey and grinning up at him. “And wedding rings, I suppose. Might as well pick those out too.”
“Congratulations,” the clerk says so warmly that at first Betty wonders if she knows this guy. Then she realizes, no, the Tiffany’s staff is just that good. “Tell me more about the ring you’re looking for. Is there a particular cut of diamond you prefer, miss?”
Oh, wait, she actually has an answer for this. “Princess cut.” Betty gives Daniel a sidelong glance. “I know you’re shocked.”
“Stunned.” His smile is that of a man who, a couple hours ago, was having ecstatic post-proposal sex on Disney princess sheets.
“We carry two kinds of princess cuts, both set in platinum. Up to 2.5 carats in size - unless of course you wish to look at original rings - ”
Daniel’s eyes have taken on a too-familiar gleam. Although she didn’t know him back then, Betty would bet anything it’s the look he wore on his 28th birthday when he attempted to buy an island. “2.5 carats sounds fine,” she says firmly. She’s not sure how big that even is, but it’s enough.
“Your ring size?” the clerk asks.
“A seven.” She knows this from various cheap cocktail rings she’s taken to wearing the past couple of years. The clerk vanishes to retrieve some possibilities for them, which gives her a chance to murmur, “Don’t start.”
Putting his arm around her shoulders allows Daniel to whisper in her ear, “I want to buy you the biggest rock in the place.”
“It wouldn’t matter to me if you gave me a tin ring from a gumball machine, okay? The only thing that matters is that it’s from you. That means I’ll love it no matter what.”
He sighs, surrendering. “Okay.” Daniel puts his fingers beneath her chin to lift her face toward his. “People are staring at us.”
“Don’t be silly,” she says, even though she senses it too. “They must get newly engaged couples in here every day. All day.”
“Yeah. But I suspect we’re glowing.”
“You think?” She kisses him on tiptoe, and thank goodness the clerk reappears at that point, or Betty believes they might have made a scene.
The clerk offers a small velvet box. “We have one of the 2.5 carat classic princess-cut settings in your fiancee’s size, sir. Would you like to try it on her?” Ooh, that guy is smooth. No matter how gorgeous that ring is inside the box, there’s going to be something magical about seeing Daniel take it out and slip it on her finger.
He takes out the ring, and slips it on her finger, just the way he will at the altar. Betty’s eyes go wide. 2.5 carats is a whole lot bigger than she thought it was. “Oh. Oh, wow.”
“It fits you,” Daniel says, and she thinks he’s not only talking about the band’s perfect grip around her finger. The ring is stunning. Beyond stunning. This can’t possibly belong to her.
“Daniel - this is too much.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he says to the clerk, who gives him a conspiratorial little smile.
“I don’t know,” she says.
Daniel lifts her hand with the ring on it, which is heavier than it was before. “Just tell me if you love it. That’s all you have to say. Don’t worry about how much it is or what people are going to think or any of that. Do you love it?”
Betty looks at the ring, sparkling brilliantly on her finger. She has always loved glitter, and shine, and excess; this diamond and setting combine that with the grace and style she’s learned and made her own. With a sigh, she confesses, “I do. I think it’s the most beautiful ring ever.”
“Then it’s yours.” Daniel lifts her hand even higher, to his lips, to kiss her just above the ring. “And matching wedding bands?”
“Here you are, sir.” The clerk is ready and waiting for them.
They pick out simple platinum bands, and the store has both their sizes in stock. Betty and Daniel solemnly exchange the boxes; she’ll hold his, and he’ll hold hers, until their wedding day. But the engagement ring glitters on her hand, and already Betty’s wondering whether she’ll ever dare to do dishes without gloves again. (Taking it off, even once, is out of the question.)
Only as Daniel is signing the AmEx slip does Betty see any evidence of price - but she can’t have seen that right. When they walk out of the store, Betty still admiring her hand and trusting Daniel to steer her along the sidewalk, says, “I looked at the receipt.”
“Betty - ” That’s his warning tone.
“It’s okay. I saw it wrong. Because I thought I saw fifty thousand dollars.” She hears taxicabs honking on the street, various cellphone conversations in half a dozen languages and a busker playing “Love Me Do” on a guitar, but she doesn’t hear Daniel saying a word to contradict her. “Wait. No. Daniel, you didn’t.”
“That was for all three rings together.”
“That doesn’t matter! Fifty thousand dollars - it’s a lot. That money could be, I don’t know, sheltering the homeless.”
“So I’ll donate a matching amount to a homeless shelter of your choice. See, by picking this ring, you made sure there would be a substantial donation.”
Betty’s eyes narrow. “You started in about the original rings to make me think this one was modest, didn’t you?”
Daniel looks maddeningly self-satisfied. “Damn, I’m good.”
This being-rich thing is going to take some getting used to. But she happens to know Daniel can afford this, plus the donation - and she’s in too blissful a mood to mind for long. She sighs as she takes his hand. “You win this time.” Their steps take them toward Midtown; they could catch a cab to Daniel’s mother’s house, but the wild, bounding energy inside her makes her glad to walk, and she suspects Daniel feels the same way. “So, I get to pick out a homeless shelter to receive a fifty-thousand dollar donation?”
“Fifty thousand and three dollar donation.” When she glances up at him, puzzled, Daniel adds, “I still have to buy you your apple danish.”
**
"The Bling"
Betty’s heard as much chick-flick gushing about “blue boxes” as anyone else who loves a romantic comedy, but she has never been one to daydream about Tiffany’s.
“I take that back,” she says, leaning on Daniel’s arm as they walk up Fifth Avenue. The wind tugs a corner of her pink scarf away from her white winter coat. “I daydreamed about the movie ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s.’ But that meant I was daydreaming about getting an apple danish, not a ring.”
Daniel - as of a few hours ago, her fiancé - can’t seem to stop grinning today. He's all in gray and black, like a proper Manhattanite, but his radiant happiness probably ruins the New Yorker effect. “Tell you what. After this, we’ll stop by a coffee cart. That way you’ll get an apple danish and a ring.”
“I like it.” They kiss on the pavement, the morning crowds parting around them - but they don’t pause long. By now, Tiffany’s is open, and her engagement ring is waiting for her.
Engaged. That’s a weird word - something you say about jet engines or rockets before blastoff. But then, it’s all about beginning a powerful voyage, isn’t it? Betty, a born writer, files that away, wondering if she could use it later. She doesn’t want to get too analytical about things right now. This is a moment she’s sharing with Daniel, who she loves so much right now that she feels almost dazed with it.
Besides - this is sort of Daniel’s half of the whole process. Betty’s the one who proposed. While she knows Daniel is thrilled, and that he’s telling the truth when he says he’s not disappointed about not doing the asking himself, she also knows that he’d like a chance to do something as extravagantly romantic for her.
They go inside, the store’s heat a welcome respite from the cold February air. The interior looks just like it did in the movie: Tiffany’s is clearly a place that favors classic style over constant updates. A sales clerk turns to them politely, perhaps sensing the romantic glow that means “diamond sale imminent,” and Betty doesn’t miss the moment when he recognizes Daniel and lights up a bit. “Can we help you two?”
“We’re looking for an engagement ring.” Daniel covers her hand with his on the countertop, and even though she knows it’s the most clichéd, obvious thing in the world, she can’t help going all gooey and grinning up at him. “And wedding rings, I suppose. Might as well pick those out too.”
“Congratulations,” the clerk says so warmly that at first Betty wonders if she knows this guy. Then she realizes, no, the Tiffany’s staff is just that good. “Tell me more about the ring you’re looking for. Is there a particular cut of diamond you prefer, miss?”
Oh, wait, she actually has an answer for this. “Princess cut.” Betty gives Daniel a sidelong glance. “I know you’re shocked.”
“Stunned.” His smile is that of a man who, a couple hours ago, was having ecstatic post-proposal sex on Disney princess sheets.
“We carry two kinds of princess cuts, both set in platinum. Up to 2.5 carats in size - unless of course you wish to look at original rings - ”
Daniel’s eyes have taken on a too-familiar gleam. Although she didn’t know him back then, Betty would bet anything it’s the look he wore on his 28th birthday when he attempted to buy an island. “2.5 carats sounds fine,” she says firmly. She’s not sure how big that even is, but it’s enough.
“Your ring size?” the clerk asks.
“A seven.” She knows this from various cheap cocktail rings she’s taken to wearing the past couple of years. The clerk vanishes to retrieve some possibilities for them, which gives her a chance to murmur, “Don’t start.”
Putting his arm around her shoulders allows Daniel to whisper in her ear, “I want to buy you the biggest rock in the place.”
“It wouldn’t matter to me if you gave me a tin ring from a gumball machine, okay? The only thing that matters is that it’s from you. That means I’ll love it no matter what.”
He sighs, surrendering. “Okay.” Daniel puts his fingers beneath her chin to lift her face toward his. “People are staring at us.”
“Don’t be silly,” she says, even though she senses it too. “They must get newly engaged couples in here every day. All day.”
“Yeah. But I suspect we’re glowing.”
“You think?” She kisses him on tiptoe, and thank goodness the clerk reappears at that point, or Betty believes they might have made a scene.
The clerk offers a small velvet box. “We have one of the 2.5 carat classic princess-cut settings in your fiancee’s size, sir. Would you like to try it on her?” Ooh, that guy is smooth. No matter how gorgeous that ring is inside the box, there’s going to be something magical about seeing Daniel take it out and slip it on her finger.
He takes out the ring, and slips it on her finger, just the way he will at the altar. Betty’s eyes go wide. 2.5 carats is a whole lot bigger than she thought it was. “Oh. Oh, wow.”
“It fits you,” Daniel says, and she thinks he’s not only talking about the band’s perfect grip around her finger. The ring is stunning. Beyond stunning. This can’t possibly belong to her.
“Daniel - this is too much.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he says to the clerk, who gives him a conspiratorial little smile.
“I don’t know,” she says.
Daniel lifts her hand with the ring on it, which is heavier than it was before. “Just tell me if you love it. That’s all you have to say. Don’t worry about how much it is or what people are going to think or any of that. Do you love it?”
Betty looks at the ring, sparkling brilliantly on her finger. She has always loved glitter, and shine, and excess; this diamond and setting combine that with the grace and style she’s learned and made her own. With a sigh, she confesses, “I do. I think it’s the most beautiful ring ever.”
“Then it’s yours.” Daniel lifts her hand even higher, to his lips, to kiss her just above the ring. “And matching wedding bands?”
“Here you are, sir.” The clerk is ready and waiting for them.
They pick out simple platinum bands, and the store has both their sizes in stock. Betty and Daniel solemnly exchange the boxes; she’ll hold his, and he’ll hold hers, until their wedding day. But the engagement ring glitters on her hand, and already Betty’s wondering whether she’ll ever dare to do dishes without gloves again. (Taking it off, even once, is out of the question.)
Only as Daniel is signing the AmEx slip does Betty see any evidence of price - but she can’t have seen that right. When they walk out of the store, Betty still admiring her hand and trusting Daniel to steer her along the sidewalk, says, “I looked at the receipt.”
“Betty - ” That’s his warning tone.
“It’s okay. I saw it wrong. Because I thought I saw fifty thousand dollars.” She hears taxicabs honking on the street, various cellphone conversations in half a dozen languages and a busker playing “Love Me Do” on a guitar, but she doesn’t hear Daniel saying a word to contradict her. “Wait. No. Daniel, you didn’t.”
“That was for all three rings together.”
“That doesn’t matter! Fifty thousand dollars - it’s a lot. That money could be, I don’t know, sheltering the homeless.”
“So I’ll donate a matching amount to a homeless shelter of your choice. See, by picking this ring, you made sure there would be a substantial donation.”
Betty’s eyes narrow. “You started in about the original rings to make me think this one was modest, didn’t you?”
Daniel looks maddeningly self-satisfied. “Damn, I’m good.”
This being-rich thing is going to take some getting used to. But she happens to know Daniel can afford this, plus the donation - and she’s in too blissful a mood to mind for long. She sighs as she takes his hand. “You win this time.” Their steps take them toward Midtown; they could catch a cab to Daniel’s mother’s house, but the wild, bounding energy inside her makes her glad to walk, and she suspects Daniel feels the same way. “So, I get to pick out a homeless shelter to receive a fifty-thousand dollar donation?”
“Fifty thousand and three dollar donation.” When she glances up at him, puzzled, Daniel adds, “I still have to buy you your apple danish.”
**