We sat down for dinner. My mother brought out the prime rib on a platter. My father carved. Ashley and Trevor got the first servings, always. Then my parents, then me and Sam.
“So,” my mother said, looking at Ashley, “how’s work going for you, sweetheart?”
Ashley lit up. “Amazing. I just closed my biggest quarter ever. 380,000 in sales, oncology drugs. It’s brutal, but the commission is incredible.”
“That’s wonderful,” my father said. “You’ve worked so hard.”
Ashley smiled. “I’m on track for President’s Club this year. That’s a trip to Cabo. All expenses paid. Five-star resort.”
“You deserve it,” my mother said.
I picked up my potatoes. Sam put his hand on my knee under the table, squeezed gently.
“What about you, Jenny?” my aunt asked. Aunt Carol, my mother’s sister. “How’s the hospital?”
“Busy,” I said. “We’ve had high census all month. Lots of respiratory cases, RSV season.”
My mother nodded. “That sounds hard, honey.”
Three seconds of silence. Then my father turned to Trevor.
“So, Trevor, what do you think about the market right now? I’m thinking about expanding one of the dealerships, adding a service center…”
And just like that, I was gone. Erased from the conversation.
Sam leaned close, whispered, “You want to leave early?”
I shook my head. Not yet.
I waited until dessert. Apple pie, my mother’s recipe, vanilla ice cream on top. I set down my fork.
“So, Sam and I have an announcement,” I said.
My mother looked up. “Oh.”
I held up my hand. The ring caught the candlelight. Small diamond, white gold band. Perfect.
“We’re engaged.”
My mother blinked, leaned forward to inspect the ring. “Well, congratulations, sweetheart.” She took my hand, tilted it in the light. “It’s lovely, small, but lovely.”
Small.
The word landed like a stone.
Sam had saved $400 a month for 8 months. $3,200. He’d gone to three different jewelers. He’d picked this ring because the jeweler told him the cut made it look bigger than it was. Because he wanted me to have something beautiful.
“When did this happen?” my father asked.
“September,” Sam said. “I proposed at Montrose Beach sunrise.”
“How romantic,” Aunt Carol said.
Ashley’s smile was thin, sharp. “When’s the big day?”
“June 14th, 2025,” I said. “We’ve already put down a deposit.”
I watched Ashley’s face. Something flickered there. Her jaw tightened for half a second. Then she caught herself, smoothed it over.
“June,” she said slowly. “That’s so soon.”
“Nine months,” I said. “Plenty of time. We’re keeping it simple. 180 guests.”
