Blogging in E minor
Usually just a bunch of silly crap.

The Christmas of the Offending Diamond

“Not today,” Felicia pleaded. “We’ll tell them tomorrow. I promise! Just not today.”

            Her procrastination was well beyond ridiculous. Felicia and I had been engaged since Halloween. It was now Christmas Eve, and she had yet to tell her family.

            Felicia is the youngest girl in a family of 13 children. That’s right, they had enough people for a soccer team, two basketball squads, or a baseball team with a ptiching rotation — a baker’s dozen, mind you. They were understandably protective of the baby girl. Felicia feared chastisement from the Elder Matriarchs – known collectively as Patandebbie – because we had become engaged after only knowing each other for six months.

            All things considered, however, we certainly were not children. Felicia and I were in our mid and late twenties respectively.  Both of us believed we had found The One. We had an ideal blend of congruencies and compatibilities and were ready for marriage.

            Felicia and I stood alone in one of the bedrooms in her sister’s house, the chatter, laughter and merriment from elsewhere providing a festive backdrop like a scene out of an old black-and-white movie.

            “I can’t go through with this,” Felicia continued. “I can’t face them now.”

            “Then how are you going to explain this?” I asked, grasping her left hand and slipping a small diamond solitaire ring on her finger.

            “Omigod!” she stammered in absolute shock. Tears began welling up in her eyes as she examined the stone on her hand.

            It wasn’t much of a ring, really. Several days earlier, I had purchased it at a mall jewelry store. As I set out that evening, I had no idea what I would get Felicia for Christmas. Repressing a sense of trepidation caused by my overwhelming ignorance of jewelry, I marched into the shop looking for something special, awkwardly shifting my focus from bracelets to necklaces to earrings then finally engagement rings.   

            So I did it. I bought the ring and probably paid too much for it. The ring had a modest, plain-Jane setup with microscopic prongs bracketing a puny, somewhat pathetic, little stone in place. Feeling only somewhat assured, I began plotting how I would spring it upon her.

            The timing – the circumstances as they turned out – could not be more perfect! “I love it!” Felicia whispered, all choked up, as she hugged and kissed me. “I love you!”

            Felicia’s inner conflict was readily observable and thoroughly charming as she attempted to conceal the ring from her family. It was apparent that removing it simply wasn’t an option. I wondered how long she could continue going about her business, like an amputee, without the use of her left hand.  

             Eventually, I ended up downstairs with the guys watching a college bowl game on the tube. Suddenly, Felicia’s sister Pam emerged from the stairwell with a bottle of champagne and bounded onto an unoccupied sofa. “We have an important announcement!” She proclaimed.

            “Uh oh, who’s knocked up?” Pam’s husband quipped.

            It was obvious that Felicia had let the cat out of the bag as all the women in the family filed into the room behind Pam, Felicia beckoning me to join her. She then announced that we were engaged, extending her hand to display the miniscule specimen of compressed carbon on her finger.

            A swell of applause and congratulatory remarks ensued followed by the smack of the popping cork hitting the ceiling.

            The family toasted us, and we drank, laughed and retold the story over and over again. “What a surprise! Congratulations! We’re so happy for you two!”

            “Are you going to kiss?” Felicia’s six-year-old nephew asked.

            As it turned out, Patandebbie didn’t have a whole lot to say about our engagement after all. When Felicia told her sisters she was going to marry me, she revealed the offending stone, turning her face away in fear, expecting to be bludgeoned with criticism. Instead, they lovingly hugged and congratulated her. Perhaps they were too taken aback to react and simply chose to plot patiently in silence. Who knows?  

            It turned out to be one of those perfect evenings.  We were one big happy family, eating and drinking and celebrating the holiday and good news. The kids would later rip open their presents with excitement, one diving onto the giant box he had received in gleeful abandon. We played games and later lounged in Pam’s hot tub in defiance of our icy surroundings.

            It was the Best Christmas Ever!


2 Responses to “The Christmas of the Offending Diamond”

  1. It truly was the BEST Christmas EVER!

  2. In my own defense…we didn’t know eachother long, we were drinking heavily and we ended up engaged. I was excited to be engaged, I just wanted a better way to announce it. Maybe, just maybe I planned it that way. I will never forget the Christmas Ring story! The funniest part was T&%& asking who was knocked up when P&* came running w/ champaign and jumping on the couch! The best night next to our wedding!

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