Page 101 of Johnny

“That must’ve been disappointing.”

“I guess,” he says, lifting the lid off the box in his hand. He holds up an earring. Long, and dangly.

Alternating green and clear stones arranged like teardrops falling down a cheek. Probably not real

emeralds or diamonds, but they’re still very pretty. “Do you even have pierced ears?”

I tuck my hair behind my ear so he can see my lobes.

“Wanna put them on?”

“Now?”

“If not now, when?”

I shrug. “OK.” I take one of the earrings he’s offering, slip it through my lobe, then fasten the small

latch on the back side. He hands me the other one and I put it on.

“How do I look?” I ask.

He nods his head and stares at me. And for a moment I’m absolutely certain he’s reading my mind.

He knows everything. Why I’m here. What’s going to happen tomorrow. All of it.

“Open yours now,” he says. Gaze still locked on mine.

I pull myself back together, look down at the box in my lap, and pull the gold ribbon off. He takes

the length of satin from my lap and drapes over his thigh like his ribbon was lonely and needed a

friend.

I already know what’s in this box just by the size and shape of it. So I’m expecting the white velvet

ring box inside. But the actual ring tucked between two velvet cushions is actually stunning. “Jesus

Christ, Johnny,” I say, lifting the ring out and holding it up to the light. “This is beautiful.”

“It’s nice, yeah,” he says, eyeing the sparkling diamond surrounded by emeralds.

And I could be wrong here, but I’m pretty sure these stones are real. They’re not overly big like the

ones set in the earrings. Not tiny, either. Maybe half a carat center stone and then another half a carat

total in accent emeralds.

But when I look up at Johnny his brow is furrowed. “But it’s probably not gonna fit. Ring size.” He

huffs. “Wasn’t really thinking that one through.”

I slip the ring on, flick my fingers at him, and laugh. “My lucky day, I guess.”

He turns his body a little, searching through the packages, then comes up with a flat one. Not a

glossy white box this time. Just velvet. “Here. Maybe this completes the set?”

“It’s your turn,” I say, “You have to open the next one. That’s how they do Christmas in the movies,