In which Moxie, having scaled the cliffs of Mount Doom with the help of her trusty friends, flings her engagement ring into the bubbling depths and banishes the Great Eye of Glenn into the misty nothingness of the past.
Or something like that.
I’m a firm believer in the idea that everything comes full circle, and I think that after today the cycle that began when I first met Glenn has now come to its end. The universe backed me up on this because the day was truly epic, complete with plot and soundtrack.
The day itself, March 19th, would have been our 10-month wedding anniversary. It was a clear, sunny, early spring day. After much weeping on my bed, I got in the car and picked up Carmen, who came along for moral support, and drove downtown. We walked through the Public Garden to Newbury St., home of all that is tony and hip in Boston.
On the way to the jewelry store, we passed a woman wearing the largest emerald-cut diamond engagement ring I have ever seen outside of a magazine advertisement. So big it was vulgar. So big it almost blinded us when it caught the sun. So big it made me glad I was getting rid of my bling. I swear, engagement rings of that size are really just the guy marking his territory.
When we got to the jewelry store, the woman behind the counter clearly didn’t get it. She kept saying Glenn’s name over and over again.
“Connie, have you seen the invoice from Glenn X?”
“How do you spell it?”
“Glenn with two Ns. Last name is XXXXXX.”
“How’s that again?”
“Yes, that’s it. From December 2002. That’s right, isn’t it? Glenn XXXXXX bought it in December 2002?”
Yes, thank you. Now please shut up.
She finally clued in when I burst into tears and then she got all sympathetic. She gave me a choice between consigning the ring or getting a check, and I got flustered. She said, “Well, these rings are getting harder and harder to find.” And Carmen turned to her and said, “Just like good men.”
Carmen, you ROCK.
I was still sniffling a little when we left the jewelry store, but I started feeling better as soon as we’d put a block or two between us and the ring. The further we walked, the better I felt.
We hit Legal Seafood in the Pru for lunch. There is nothing in the world that their clam chowder can’t fix. Suddenly, another blinding flash from somewhere in the vicinity of the bar. There was a woman sitting there with her left arm draped around a guy, and on her left hand was a three-stone engagement ring so big that it dwarfed the ring we’d seen in the Gardens. I'm talking giant, down payment-sized diamonds. And she had earrings to match.
People, it’s bad when your ring is so big it looks fake.
I had a lot of Glenn memories in the Pru—we went there a lot. After lunch, we walked by the Vinny Testa’s where Glenn and I had our first date, and where his parents threw us an engagement/going away party before we moved to LA. There was the Copley Westin, where we met for the very first time, and where we visited once a year just for sentimental fun.
After lunch, Carmen and I went back Newbury St. and did some shopping. She wanted to hit Kiehl’s and see if we could get some free samples. As soon as we walked in, they started playing the song that was supposed to be my and Glenn’s first dance at our wedding. At that point, the Glenn imagery was just funny. Clearly the day had a theme and we just had to go with it.
We went to Pottery Barn and I finally ordered my new duvet cover. When it came time to pay, I whipped out my collection of gift cards/certificates and discovered that they were all from Glenn’s family—one from his mother for Christmas, one from his aunt for my shower, one from returning the hideous bowls that his uncle’s girlfriend bought me for the shower (and which Glenn insisted on registering for even though I hated them). The saleswoman smiled and said, “Guilt-free money, hmm?” Oh yes. I feel not an ounce of guilt whatsoever.
As Carmen and I walked through the Public Gardens on our way back to the car, the Arlington Street Church bells began playing their joyful, clanging version of "When I Fall in Love, It Will Be Forever.”
Maybe next time. Meanwhile, onward and upward. The circle begins anew.