Audrey Hepburn's Pearls: Part I

Chapter 32.4: 1994, Ruiz

Chapter 32.4: 1994, Ruiz

"Where did it go?!"

"It keeps falling off. Maybe put it on a different finger this time?" 

"But it doesn't mean the same thing if its on a different finger!"

Ambrose was staring at me outside of Macy's. Holiday shoppers were staring at me, too. He didn't seem to be angry, just exhausted. This was the third time we had to backtrack in the slush in search of the silver colored ring he had given me earlier today. 

He crouched down and started walking slowly that way, his eyes never leaving the ground. "At this rate, we're going to be late and Miss Cha Cha is going to be worried about us," he warned.

I knew that. Thinking about Miss Cha Cha being all upset made me hustle, wishing I had a metal detector or a magnet, and I really was hoping nobody had sticky gum on their shoe to attract my little ring. Willing myself to have eagle vision, my green gloved hands swept the slush away at my feet. Ambrose shuffled far from me and I felt my heart stretching away with him.

We had come out of the house some hours earlier because, entirely by accident I'm sure, Baby Doll had jumped up on the coffee table which we had dubbed our gift wrapping station and knocked over the brand new bottle of Opium by Yves st Laurent that Ambrose had bought for Miss Cha Cha onto the floor. It had not exactly shattered, but it had broken in the box, the amber liquid leaking from a hairline crack. 

Ambrose had put his head in his hands for a few minutes and then admitted we had to go out and buy another bottle, that a bottle leaking was absolutely not sufficient to give to the woman who had given him literally everything for nothing for the past three years. The least he could do was make an effort to find another bottle, even if the store didn't have it. At least he could tell her he had tried. I had agreed.

And now I was slowing him up by constantly losing the present he had so carefully and thoughtfully given to me earlier in the day.

"Do you need help?" asked a kind, elderly voice.

Ah, another kind New Yorker. The third who had offered to help me today. 

"Yes, Ma'am," I said without looking up, my fingers pressing into the snow. Two giant Macy's bags sloshed into the slush next to me and immediately my heart sank because the bottoms were becoming soaked incredibly fast. "Oh, Miss, your bags! Your things will get wet!" I gasped, wanting to pick them up. Next to me, elegantly white leather gloved hands started to scan the snow mixture imprinted with so many strangers' footprints.

"Don't worry about it," she chuckled kindly. "What are you looking for?" The woman paused in her search.

Oh. "Its a little silver ring. A band," I told her, still feeling guilty. I peered up, seeing Ambrose crouched some yards away. Too far away.

"Ah. Is it your wedding band? What a shame," the woman tisked, scurrying again beside me. Before I could answer, she went on. "That man up there looking, too. Is that your husband?"

I froze. Slowly, I gazed at her. What a curious woman. My eyes scanned her like a machine. Dark red coat, festive wreath brooch, blonde hair that must have been done every week and needed to be done again. She looked like an average older white lady. So...why did she think Ambrose was my husband?

"Oh, no, but...he's my boyfriend," I said quietly, a blush rising to my cheeks.

"Ohh, he's a handsome young man. Not like my husband. I bet he's on the couch right now with a beer, right where I left him, haha!" she started laughing at herself and I giggled politely with her.