The Return of the Magi

Would you be willing to give up an heirloom for love?

         She said yes. He still couldn't believe how easy it had been to ask her. He chuckled. Well, now it seemed so easy but before his nerves had been strung to the breaking point in anticipation of the worst.

         He whistled as he walked down the sidewalk on his way to the jewelry shop. She said rings didn't matter, they would be together and his love was all she needed that’s what mattered. He chuckled again, shaking his head. She was such a romantic. He loved her ever the more for it. She had taken him from the his “nose to the grindstone” world and opened the whole universe for him. He remembered the diamonds that sparkled in her blue eyes, those eyes and her smile captured him the moment they met. How beautiful she was, how perfectly wonderful she was, and she had said yes to him! He wanted to shout it out to all the hum-drum people in this hum-drum world, "Hey, world, the most beautiful girl in the universe just said she would marry me!" Oh, lord, now he was sounding like a musical! Next thing you know he’d be grabbing an umbrella and dancing in the street. She had that effect on him.

"Excuse, me?"

         He was jolted out of his reverie by the man standing next to him. He hadn't realized that he had stopped at an intersection. The man had the most credulous look on his face. Had he laughed out loud or worst, shouted?

"Did you say something?"

"No, just thinking about spontaneously breaking into song. Do you mind?”

         The man didn't wait for the light to change nor check the traffic flow; he just darted across the street. Shaking his head James quickly followed, his destination just a few stores down.

         Her instructions were simple and delivered in a stern tone, "Just matching gold bands, nothing fancy or expensive." She was right, of course, they had just graduated and money was tight. Actually, there was no money, just student loans. He nailed an interview with a large corporation earlier in the week and the prospects were good which gave him the courage to ask her because he could offer her a good life. He smiled remembering that it was her confidence in him that convinced him to accept the interview.

         He stood in front of the jewelry store poised to enter, with a deep breath he pushed the door opened and entered. As he looked over the display cases, he remembered her laughingly saying he had to get a good job because she was a starving actor right now and it would be at least a year before she could support him.

"See anything you like, sir?"

         He was about to say that he wanted to look at matching bands. He fully intended to say those very words, "Matching gold bands, please." As the words formed on his lips his eyes fell upon a ring. The most perfect ring he had ever seen. It was made for her, the center stone matched the color of her eyes perfectly. It was her ring and she must have it. He’s brain was screaming logic but his heart told it to shut up and mind its own business.

"Yes, this one," he whispered, "I'd like to see this one."

         Oh, excellent choice, sir." Pulling the case out slightly he removed the ring and handed it to James. James held it between his forefinger and thumb imagining placing it upon Della's finger.

"$5,000."

"Excuse me?" James snapped back. Had the salesman been talking?

"The ring, sir," The salesman seemed irritated at being ignored and repeated as if speaking to a child, "Center cut blue sapphire, encircled with identically cut diamonds, $5,000. It certainly let’s the young woman know how you feel about her" James dropped the ring and back away, without a word he turned, left the store, and headed for the park.

         He wasn't sure how long he sat on the bench but the sun was starting to slip into the bay. It wasn't fair, wasn't right, wasn't any word or feeling that fits this situation. He sighed as he stood up. She needed that ring. She deserved that ring. It was her ring.

         Arriving at his apartment, he slumped onto the beaten up couch in his living-bed-dining room kitchen. Hand over his eyes trying to relax and rub the perfect gift out of his mind.

"Jim?" Softly the voice came to him gently waking him. She sat demurely on the couch next to him, the smell of lilac filling his senses.

"Is it you?"

         Her smile fell on him like sunshine after a storm. "Yes, my dear Jim." She took his hand and patted it. She always did that when he was upset.

"But, you're dead," he whispered.

"Jim, dear, it isn't nice to state the obvious."

"Yes, ma'am, I'm sorry."

"Do you love her?" She furrowed her sweet brow.

"Of course I love her!" He was irritated with her and knew that he shouldn't be. She was his great-grandmother and they always enjoyed a special bond.

"Don't take that tone with me, young man," she sternly said, and then her face softened again.

"Remember the box I gave you before," she paused, "before I left?"

"Yes, the carved one," he sat up his voice taking on a child like tone.

"The gift of love is in there, use it."

"But, I couldn't," he protested, "They're all I have of you and Granddaddy."

"If you love her, you'll sacrifice anything for the perfect gift."

         He woke disoriented. He had slept the night on the couch. He slowly stood up and walked to the closet. Opening the door, he began the search for the box. How could such a small closet hold so much? Finally, his hand touched the grail he sought. Lovingly, he held it close to his chest as he walked back to the couch. He opened the box, his eyes taking in the contents, a pair of sterling silver combs and a pocket watch with a sterling silver fob. He touched them his mind replaying the story that had been passed from one generation to the next. It was all there; love and sacrifice, giving and receiving, all for the glory of love. Yes, he knew the story well. He touched them lightly his hand thinking back on the day he received the gift from his great-grandmother. He was shocked by it because he always figured that one of the girls would be the recipient; however, Nana was adamant that he was the only one who would appreciate them she then added cryptically, “Jim, you’re the only one who will know the perfect time to use them.”

“Well, Nana, I guess this is the time.” He closed the box and made his way to a local antique store. He passed it on his way to the university and had often stopped in. The proprietor was former jeweler who had helped Jim with the appraisal for the insurance company. He held his breath and opened the door.

“Good morning, James,” Mr. Hunt came from around the corner with extended hand, “what brings you here this early in the morning.

“Good morning, Mr. Hunt,” Jim gladly shook the man’s hand, he always enjoyed Mr. Hunt’s company. “Well, actually, I brought something for you to look at.“ He found himself tightening his hold on the box. It was this movement that caught Mr. Hunt’s attention.

“Ah, The Box,” he chuckled a bit, “do you need to have the jewelry reappraised?”

“Uh, no sir,” Jim cleared his throat afraid he would back out before the deed was done, “I’m here to sell them.”

         The little man was taken aback. He knew the significance of the contents not only to Jim but the family as well. He remembered the first time the young man brought the box into his store. They were a pair of antique pieces whose quality of craftsmanship and materials was unmatched by anything produced today; however, it was the story that went with the pieces that made pieces priceless. He offered to buy them on the spot, unusual behavior for him. It wasn’t often that antique jewelry came to the market with such a complete documented background story. He hesitated for a moment because he also knew that these pieces were more than some inheritance from a dead relative, they represented a family legacy.

“James, I don’t do this often.” Now it was time for the older man to clear his throat, “but if you need money, well, Mrs. Hunt and I would be willing to help you out.”

“No, sir, well, it does involve money and the need for it but it’s not what you think. I mean I need the money but I don't really need it,” Jim told him the story from engagement to now, including the odd dream.

“Well, it seems that we have life coming full circle.” They walked toward the counter where they were joined by Mrs. Hunt who reached out in her grandmotherly fashion and patted Jim’s hand.

”Well, look who’s decided and come visit after so long.” She hurried around, grabbed his head pulled it down and planted kisses on both cheeks. Jim instantly blushed, but he loved the attention.

“He’s coming to sell the treasure.”

“What? What’s wrong, my dear, can we help?” She began pulling him to the backroom which served as a receiving area for special clients. Fussing about, she set him down and began the preparations for tea. “Ira, what can we do to help this dear boy. You know, we do have a room upstairs that can be converted into a nice little room for him.” She took out cups and put a kettle on to boil. Jim chuckled because she always had cups to the ready and water on the boil.

“Now, Edna, calm down,” Ira walked over to the stove and put his arm around his beloved and gently guided her to a chair at the table. Sitting her down, he said, “No, there is a mystery here waiting to be told he needs money but he doesn’t need money.”

“So, what is this great mystery?” Once again he launched into the narrative that still seemed surrealistic.

“Well, Ira, make the man an offer.” With that Edna went to prepare the tea.

“Let’s see,” He examined the pieces closely, “The combs are an exquisite pair, I’ve never seen anything like them. Still the market…”

“Ira Hunt, you are not going to play your silly little haggling games with our dear Jim.” She stood next to him in a flash, both hands akimbo. “Make the boy and offer that is fair and honest.”

         He let out a sigh, leaned over the table toward Jim, and in an exaggerated stage whisper said, “I love it when she gets spunky.” He returned to the items at hand.

“I truly do not want you to sell these, James, because they mean so much to you and, to tell you the truth, they are priceless.”

“Only to me, Mr. Hunt, but I know they must have some market value.”

“No, James, we are talking about items that can not be replicated or replaced.” Mr. Hunt was now in “expert mode” his tone of voice and demeanor had changed from the loveable old man to a shrewd businessman.

“This is what I’m prepared to do, “ He paused, cleaned his glasses and continued, “I will take the pieces only as collateral on a loan.” Jim tried to protest but he could tell by the set of Mr. Hunt’s jaw and the look in Mrs. Hunt’s eyes that it was useless to argue.

“Alright, Mr. Hunt, that’s a deal. Now what are they worth?”

“I will give you $6,000 for them, “ He said then quickly added, “on loan.” Jim felt the blood leave his face and gulped his tea trying to regroup his thoughts.

“I would offer more, of course, if you were selling but this is just a loan.” Mr. Hunt quickly added thinking that he had insulted Jim.

“You mean, you mean, they are worth that much?” He could barely get the words out because now his lungs refused to function.

“Oh, yes,” Mr. Hunt said in his calm detached business voice, “I would actually suggest that you go through an auction house. Such items, with the story that verifies their authenticity, could possibly send the price easily into the hundreds of thousands of dollars.”

         Jim needed a drink, except he didn’t drink but now he knew why people needed drinks. Lord, now he was becoming incoherent. It wasn’t long, or did it take a lifetime, before he found himself walking down the street, check in hand, heading for the bank. He loved the look on the tellers face as he presented the check and deposit slip. Ten minutes later he whistled as he walked down the sidewalk on his way to the jewelry shop. He flipped open his cell phone called her and told her to meet him in the park at their bench.

         ”Jim, darling, I’ve missed you!” He never got tired of looking at her, hearing her, holding her. She was beautiful. He could never tell her that because she would argue the fact, “I’m plain and that's all,” but she was far from plain to him. He loved her with all of his heart and soul. He kissed her then asked her to sit. She had such a puzzled look on her face. He took her left hand and went down on one knee.

“What are you doing, you goose?” She giggled.

“Making it official.” He produced a small box from his pocket, “Will you, Della Louise Hester, marry me?” He opened the box exposing her ring. Fireworks exploded in his heart has he saw the glow in her eyes and a smile, that beautifully brilliant smile, claim its place. Just as quickly the light extinguished and her emotions became guarded. It was all business now.

“Jim, you shouldn’t have!” There was something in her voice that belied her irritation, “You can’t, we can’t afford it. I told you I didn’t want a ring.” He noticed that she allowed him to slip it on her finger.

“I wanted you to have one, to show how much I love you and when I saw this one I just had to get it for you.”

“But how?” She drank the wonder of him into her heart.

“Well, my great-grandmother left me some things and I used them to secure a loan.”

“Oh, Jim, you didn’t; you really shouldn’t have, “ Her eyes glistened with tears, “Those were special, you loved them.”

“Not as much as I love you.” He stood up, pulled her off the bench and kissed her.