Burn Before Reading(92)

Sunday night comes, Monday is the day I have to go to Lakecrest, and I still don’t know what to give to Wolf.

What can I give? I have nothing that suits him. Nothing good enough. All I hold is a handful of ‘sorry’s and an endless well of heartache.

And then, one day when I’m out grocery shopping, I see it.

There’s a pawn shop next to the grocer’s, a seedy little place with neon lights and few customers. But in the window I spot the most perfect silver ring, sitting on top of a pile of them. It’s not chunky, but it’s not thin, just the right size for his graceful fingers. It’s carved into the shape of a wolf that curls around itself, brave and fearsome. It’s perfect.

“Hi,” I push into the pawn shop breathlessly. “How much is the wolf ring in the window?”

The pawnbroker, a reedy man with a proud chin, narrows his eyes at me.

“I don’t sell to teenagers. Now get out.”

“Please,” I stand firm. “I need to know how much that ring is.”

He looked me up and down. “You don’t have the money for it, I already know that. Stop wasting my time.”

“How much?”

The man, clearly expecting me to have left already, threw up his hands.

“Ninety-five. I won’t take a dime less.”

“Fifty,” I say once I get over my flinch. He sneers.

“You don’t have fifty. Seventy-five, and that’s my final offer.”

“Seventy.”

“I swear to God, if you don’t get out of my store –“

I know a thing or two about bargaining – there’s a lot of it in psychology.

“Seventy, and I take it off your hands today.”

He eyed me, and there was a terse moment of quiet. I needed that ring, but I couldn’t show it, or he’d just hike up the price again. I kept my face stone, ice, steel, something featureless and cold.

“Fine. But I close at six. If you don’t come before then the deal’s off.”

I look at the array of clocks on the wall. It’s five-thirty. If I drive fast, I can make it back home. I piled the groceries in the car and tore down the highway, screeching into our driveway and rocketing up the stairs into the house.

“Dad!” I called. “Dad! I found something!”

He started up from his place, asleep on the couch in front of the TV. “F-Found what?”

“Something you can get me for my birthday. But we have to get to the store before six!”

Dad mussed his hair, looking bewilderedly at the clock. “Bee, it’s five-fifty –“

“Please, Dad,” I grasped his hands, pleading with my eyes. “It’s perfect. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

He scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed. “Fine. Let’s go.”

I felt bad about dragging him out of the house, looking disheveled, but he didn’t seem to mind. He never seemed to mind, these days. He pulled on a coat and we were back on the freeway in minutes. Dad kept telling me to slow down, but I’d only do it for a second before revving back into gear. We got to the pawn shop with only one minute to spare. I ushered Dad across the parking lot as fast as he’d go, which wasn’t very fast at all. The owner of the shop glared at us through the window, taking Dad’s appearance in with disdain. When we came in, he raised his voice.

“Who is this? You’re not going to get me to sell to some homeless guy.”

I squared my shoulders. “This is my dad.”

The shop owner froze. I looked at Dad, but he was staring at the counter, eyes empty. Maybe he hadn’t heard. No – of course he did. And he didn’t show an ounce of emotion about it. My stomach twisted like I was gonna be sick. Dad should’ve said something. He should’ve at least frowned, or winced, or blinked. But….nothing.

The sight of the wolf ring made me tamp down the gnawing worry.

Dad sighs. “Seventy dollars is a lot, Bee.”

“I know,” I blurt quickly. “I know. It’s just – this ring is so pretty. And – “

What am I doing? What am I doing, asking Dad to spend this much on a ring for a boy who hates me when he could be saving that for therapy? For food? For our rent that looms bigger and scarier by the day? Who am I to ask him to spend this much on me?

I shake my head and smile. “Actually – crap, I’m sorry. For dragging you out here. We don’t have to get it. I don’t – I don’t really want it, anyway.”

Dad’s quiet as he stares at the ring. I pull at his arm, trying to distract him from it.

“Come on. Let’s go. Are you hungry? I’ll make something when we get home –”

Dad slaps four twenties on the counter, and the shop owner gives him change. My stomach falls.

“Dad, don’t, please, I’ve changed my mind. It’s ugly, and stupid. I don’t want it –”

The owner hands over the ring to Dad, and he hands it to me with a soft gaze.

“You deserve to get a gift, Bee,” He murmurs. “For your birthday. So don’t worry so much.”

I close my shaking fingers over the ring, the cool metal of it a shock against my hot palm. I don’t know what I deserve anymore. But I hug it to my chest, and then throw my arms around him.