Ever put something away so well you can’t find it? Well, here’s another version of the same story.
Son Vandy and his fiancee, Maddy, are out at a bar one night and after a few too many, get into a nasty tiff over something insignificant. She gets so irate that she wrenches the engagement ring off her finger and gives it back to him. After a couple steamy minutes, they cool off and make up. But the ring stays in Vandy’s pocket since she’s not quite ready to take it back.
Then there’s the Uber ride back to their apartment and Vandy, in an effort not to rekindle the argument, decides to hide the ring from her.
Of course, the next morning, he goes to where he thought he’d hid it and the ring isn’t there. He tears the apartment apart trying to find it and enlists Maddy in the search. But they can’t find it.
Did it fall out of his pocket? Did he not bring it back to the apartment? Did he lose it in the Uber car? The more they tear apart the apartment, the more convinced they are that he’d lost it somewhere between the bar and home.
Doesn’t help that their memories are clouded with alcohol, but now they’ve talked themselves into believing that they must have lost it. Now this isn’t any simple engagement ring, it’s a honking big diamond surrounded by an oval of smaller stones. Plus the main diamond belonged to Vandy’s grandmother so it has family pedigree.
“I lost the ring,” Vandy admits to us on the phone.
“No, you didn’t,” we tell him, it’s somewhere in your apartment, keep looking, you’ll find it.”
“I swear it isn’t here. I sort of remember putting it somewhere but it’s nowhere to be found.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll find it,” we insist but he’s stuck in the lost ring mode.
“I’m going to chase down the Uber driver and check pawnshops,” he tells us. “Someone must have picked it up in the Uber, I’m convinced.”
“Keep looking in the apartment,” we tell him. But he isn’t listening.
Okay, a week later, in their minds the ring is gone, lost, stolen, and they are heartsick about it. They’re both kicking themselves, she for having taken it off her finger in the first place, he for having lost it. We try to add perspective. “Look, it’s just a ring, okay? It’s not the end of the world.” But to them, it might as well be.
The next week, he decides to replace the ring with a pink gold band he buys from a jeweler friend of his. End of story? Not quite.
Fast forward a month. They’ve got a wedding on Block Island the next weekend so Vandy goes into his sock drawer to find a clean pair to take with him. Inside one sock he feels something hard. “Is it a coin?” He thinks to himself. Fishing the object out of the sock, he finds THE RING!
We get a text with the ring on the end of his pinky.
I can’t resist doing a “I told you so.” “I told you it was in the apartment,” I say to him. “You must be feeling really stupid for getting yourself so worked up about it. But don’t beat up on yourself, everybody’s done the same thing at one time or another. I lost my iPhone last week and your mother was convinced she’d taken it out of the car and it slipped out of her grasp and fell in the trash can.” Of course, the trash had been picked up so we figured the phone was now in the landfill.
“I’ll get you another, I’m so sorry,” she tells me.
We go to Best Buy and pick out a fancy new iPhone.
The next day, I hope on the mower, happen to look down, and there’s the old iPhone tucked in beside the seat. Of course, it had rained so even though we tried the rice treatment, the phone screen was mobbed with magenta streaks and wouldn’t turn on. Just like when I dropped my shoe into Lake Michigan, managed to retrieve it and called Motorola to see if they could save it. “Sir, we engineer our phones to be 99% water-resistant, but I’m afraid you’ve gone to 100% so there’s nothing we can do, sorry.”
That won’t be the only phone I drown or the only valuable Vandy hides from himself.
One thing’s for sure, Maddy now swears she’ll never take the ring off her finger.