Joseph was a bundle of confusion; his eyes were scanning the diamonds reflecting their expensive shine back up at him. There was a variety of shapes, sizes, colors, price points.
But it had to be perfect.
"Oval cut?" The jeweler asked, raising her pencil thin eyebrows. Joe glanced up at her.
"Only if it's an opal," he remarked. Then, at the thought of her, he smiled. "She loves opal."
Extending a large grin, the jeweler pointed her pen at him.
"Wait here," she sang. "I have something I know she'll love."
She scuttled off and Joseph, who had been to every jewelry store in Highland Bay County, was feeling skeptical of that promise. He'd scoured the Internet for days on end, made phone calls to get quotes on custom bands; he'd even gone three hours out of town to a professional craftsman to find the right one. But none of them were ever right.
Demi was too perfect for all of them.
"This has been on the high shelf, tucked away behind some of our most priceless pieces," the jeweler cooed, extending before Joseph a red velvet box.
"Let's see it," he grinned.
As the woman craned back the lid of the box, Joseph's heart picked up speed.
"This is our raw opal, beautifully flawed engagement ring. Its solid gold band is encrusted with white diamonds, and its opal contains phenomenal flints of pure gold." The jeweler scanned Joseph's face, satisfied with her find. "This ring was last worn by Marilyn Monroe after it was given to her as a gift from the one and only Audrey Hepburn at the Academy Awards. It definitely gives the price point quite the pinch."
"The price doesn't matter," Joseph dismissed. He lifted the jewel from the box delicately, raising the beauty to his eyeline. "I've never seen a jewel so fine."
"We've never met anyone willing to buy it," stated the jeweler. "It's over 1.5 million."
Joseph grinned, his eyes never leaving the ring.
"It's perfect."
—
"You're joking," Joseph's father bellowed. "Joseph, that ring is worth nearly a fourth of our company."
His father's face was pale with shock, yet pink with anger. Joseph usually found humor in this, as his father was an easily read man.
"You needn't worry," he assured. "I didn't use any company funds."
"That's not the point," Kevin bit back. "Joseph, Demi is lovely but . . . 1.5 million dollars? For a piece of jewelry she may or may not agree to wear on her finger? No matter how much money you could have saved, that's still an extraordinary expense-,"
"I know, Father," he smiled. "But she's worth it."
Kevin interlocked his fingers, staring his son in the eye.
"Where did you get the money, son?"
Joseph sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets.
"I used my trust funds."
"Your trust?!" Kevin exclaimed. "You were to save that for-,"
"For a special occasion," Joseph finished. "For a time that I felt I needed it most. Father," Joseph grinned. "This is that special occasion. This is when I need it most."
"Joseph-,"
"I'm in love with her," he stated. "And I'm asking her to marry me."
Kevin held his son's gaze, knowing full well he was foolish in his decision. But all Kevin had ever wanted was for his sons to be happy.
"Well," he began, his eyes following the floor. "Far be it from me to prevent you from doing what makes you happy."
Kevin then extended his hand to his son, a tight-lipped grin on his face.
And proud of himself, Joseph took it, gripping it tightly.
"Thank you, Pop."
--
"In through your nose."
Joseph inhaled.
"And . . . out through your mouth."
Joseph exhaled.
Dr. McKinley removed his stethoscope from his ears and took down notes in his chart. Joseph sat quietly, his eyes skimming the familiar wallpaper of the small office. He'd visited this room far too many times to count; it might as well have been his second home. Hell, he figured he could at least chip in for some of the electric bill, considering he ran them up the most.
"How are you feeling today?"
"Same as always, Mick," Joseph replied wittily. "Five on the pain scale, seven on the fatigue. No fevers, no tremors, no pupil dilation. I'm fine."
"So you say," Dr. McKinley chuckled. "Your bloodwork is giving unheard of results. You should be dead."
Joseph laughed.
"I'll never die."
Dr. McKinley shook his head humorously.
"I'm inclined to believe you, Jonas. Especially with these results."
"I'm fine," Joe grinned. "I'm always fine."
"You taking your meds?"
"Always."
"Eating right?"
"Give and take."
Dr. McKinley met Joseph's gaze.
"And how's Demi?"
Joseph smiled immediately at the sound of her name.
"Phenomenal," he muttered. "I'm going to ask her to marry me."
McKinley snapped open a plastic box, pulled out a long, sterile needle and fastened it to a syringe. As if rehearsed, Joseph extended forward his right arm and the needle disappeared into his vein.
"How's that feel?"
"Nerve-wracking, but still . . . right."
McKinley chuckled, finishing the dosage and removing the needle.
"I was asking about the injection site, but I'm glad you're in a good place."
Joseph slipped his shirt back over his head.
"With Demi? I'm always in a good place. She's keeping me alive. I'm certain of it."
Dr. McKinley handed Joseph his discharge papers.
"If that's true, Mr. Jonas, bring her in. She could save more lives than God himself."
--
