Chapter 5: Three Boxes

The family jeweler laid three small boxes on the velvet and said the groom would now explain.

It was Tuesday afternoon, and the shop on Taylor Street had a bell on the door and a fan in the ceiling.

A woman at the far counter was waiting for a watch battery.

Two Bellandi cousins stood by the window as witnesses.

Tradition required two, and they had both worn their funeral suits.

"Miss Vitale," Domenico said. "The ring in the first box has been in my family for sixty years."

"It's beautiful," I said.

He had not opened it yet.

"You may take it or decline it," Domenico said.

"Should you decline, the family would be pleased to offer you the other two boxes in thanks."

The jeweler cleared his throat and read from a card.

"The house of Bellandi thanks Miss Vitale," he read, "for her kindness, her patience, and her time."

"I haven't done anything yet," I said.

"It's a general card," the jeweler said. "We have a few."

The woman at the far counter had stopped looking at batteries.

"What's in the second box?" I said.

Domenico opened it, and inside lay a thin gold bracelet.

"I'll take that one," I said.

One of the cousins coughed.

The jeweler's pen stopped over his book.

"It's the consolation," the jeweler said gently. "For a lady who declines."

"You said I could have it," I said to Domenico.

"I did say that," Domenico said.

"So I'm taking it."

I put the bracelet on, and it fit.

Domenico's hand moved to the third box, and he opened it himself.

It held a fountain pen with a silver cap.

"For the letter of regret," the jeweler said. "She writes it to the family. It's customary."

"What would I regret?"

"Nothing, miss. It's only a pen."

"I'll take the pen," I said.

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