It was a costly and stunning piece: a white-gold, diamond-laden ring that looped and curled, emulating a leafy floral vine. Just like the loss of handpicked back- yard blossoms, a beautiful thing had just disappeared from my life forever. But that ring, as lovely as it was, was not worth my anger. No amount of indignation would make it reappear from that empty pants pocket. I was sad it was gone, but I said we’d keep an eye out for it; maybe it would resurface someday.
As I learned a year later, it never would. But the truth of its disappearance certainly did. My daughter wandered from room to room one evening with her phone in hand, giggling with her best friend Athena about a tiny tube of roll-on vanilla perfume that had fallen out of her pants pocket in the school restroom and was promptly lost to the automatic flush. “It was my favorite one!” she slapped a palm to her forehead, seeming distressed but laughing anyway. “Well, it’s not the first time!” Athena pointed out. “Didn’t you lose a ring that way?” I looked up from my book.
7
Made with FlippingBook Ebook Creator