The Tolling of Mercedes Bell: A Novel (21 page)

F
INALLY THE DAY FOR RING
shopping arrived. Jack waited in front of Shreve & Company with his hands in the pockets of his black vicuña topcoat, a Black Watch tartan scarf around his neck. He was whistling happily and smiled when his fiancée approached.

“Hi, Beautiful! I see the old jalopy got you here in one piece.”

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Don’t start insulting my car just because we’re engaged. Anyway, it adds soul to the streets of San Francisco.”

“Yes, and with any luck it will be towed. Now come this way,
Madame,”
he said with a grin and led her into the store.

He brought her over to a glass display case where a pleasant brunette sales clerk stood waiting. She was about Mercedes’s age and introduced herself as Minette.

At Jack’s signal, Minette pulled out a large diamond ring.
Mercedes slid it onto her finger as far as it would go and examined it closely.

A sudden panic set in and she felt the urge to run out the door, to escape all the wedding planning and commotion before them. What had come over her? She wanted to remain independent, to be free, and to preserve the peace she had fought so hard to create. Her heart throbbed, and she could scarcely breathe.

But then she looked at Jack’s deadly handsome face, saw him watching her and maintaining his great poise. She saw his joy and charm, and she calmed herself. What was she thinking? A chance like this would never come her way again. She resolved to stay in the present, to think practically, and to evaluate the ring.

It was heavy and the design was unnecessarily complicated. She supposed it would get in the way when she was working. No doubt women who wore such rings had housekeepers and secretaries. She could not see herself becoming a woman like that. What was she getting herself into?

“Proportion is important. You have big hands and long fingers,” he was saying. “If you choose something more typical, like a one-carat solitaire, it’ll be lost on you.” Minette drew a one-carat diamond ring from a nearby case. It was simple and, to Mercedes, stunningly beautiful—far beyond anything she would have presumed to pick out on her own. She put it on and admired it.

“This ring is beautiful. I would be very content with it. It’s simple, classic—”

“And far too small,” he interrupted.

“Oh, it is not,” she protested. The stone was exquisite and sparkled in the light. It fit her finger perfectly and suited her taste.

“I like the sapphires,” Jack said matter-of-factly. “They’re different and show a little more imagination than diamonds. Let’s have a look.”

Again, Minette responded to his signal. She pulled out a lovely two-carat sapphire set with a small diamond on either side. Mercedes hesitantly pulled the diamond ring off her finger and slid the sapphire on. It was different, for sure, and she loved the brilliant blue.

Minette explained the difference between heat-treated and natural sapphires. This was a heat-treated sapphire, less expensive than it might be. Mercedes liked that and admired the ring. It was definitely striking, and the design was interesting.

“It’s the color of your eyes,” she said. Jack smiled and pointed to three much larger sapphire rings in an adjacent case.

“Let’s have a look at those,” he said. “I want to see a ring on your hand that will thrill you every time you look at it—something that will tell people about this great love we have, and about how your husband takes care of you.”

He looked at her tenderly. Inside her, a million butterflies were in a frenzy.

She took off the sapphire ring and handed it back to Minette, who put it away and withdrew one of the enormous rings from the adjacent case.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Jack said.

Minette repeated these steps until Mercedes had tried on all three. They were all eye-poppingly beautiful, but the designs did not suit her. They seemed outlandish, like something a rock star would wear.

“Really, I prefer the diamond solitaire to any of these three rings,” she said, “although the sapphires themselves are amazing.”

Jack nodded to Minette, who walked down to a display case at the far end of the room. When she returned, she placed a closed ring box in front of Mercedes.

“This is a natural sapphire,” Minette said, “one of the finest in our possession.”

Mercedes opened the box and gasped. Inside was an extraordinary six-carat cushion-cut sapphire set in a bezel surrounded by brilliant pavé diamonds. She blinked her eyes and pulled it out of the box, turning it around to look at each angle before she slipped it onto her finger. It was the most exquisite piece of jewelry she had ever seen. It was neither oval nor square but something in between. Instead of being suspended on prongs, the bezel and surrounding stones were held in a platinum V-shaped basket. At the points of the V on either side were half-carat diamonds. Running down the shoulders of the ring were more diamonds. All told, there were forty-four diamonds and one perfect, glorious natural sapphire—pure magnificence from every angle, just like Jack. The ring was too loose, but the design and dimensions of the jewels precisely suited her hand.

She turned over the price tag and was stunned. It was a number greater than her annual gross salary, the price of a new luxury car. Jack immediately put his hand on hers.

“Forget about that,” he said. “So what do you think?”

“I don’t know! I can’t believe my eyes,” she stammered. “I’ve never seen a ring this beautiful before. It’s too expensive. Oh, my Lord.”

“I think this is it,” Jack said. He looked up at the beaming clerk and told her: “We’ll take it.”

Mercedes gasped again and threw her arms around him.

“That’s the reaction I was hoping for!” he exclaimed. He kissed her and winked at the clerk over Mercedes’s shoulder. “How long will it take to get it properly sized?” he asked.

“It usually only takes a couple of days. I’ll check with the jeweler to be sure.”

Mercedes stared at the ring on her finger and held out her arm to see it from a distance. Jack drew her close while she gaped at the ring,
completely astonished. He kissed her cheek, which was flushed bright red.

Reluctantly she removed the ring and put it back in the box. She stared at it a short while longer before closing the lid and nodding to Minette, who sized Mercedes’s finger and then took the ring to the back room.

Mercedes looked at Jack and tears filled her eyes.

“Oh, Bella,” he said softly, “I’ve wanted to do this for the longest time. I saw this ring awhile ago and hoped it would still be here if I could entice you into the store. It’s perfect for you. I want you to remember this day and to know, regardless of what the future may hold, that I will love you forever.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she stammered. “I’m flabbergasted.” She looked at her fiancé. How was it possible for a man to be so perfect and to love her this way? He returned her gaze and said nothing.

Minette returned momentarily. The ring would be ready by Wednesday. Mercedes put it on one last time, feeling its weight, studying its captivating design further while Jack and Minette took care of business.

Afterwards, they strolled arm in arm toward Union Square and the gigantic Christmas tree bedecked with grand ornaments and lights. Holiday shoppers and excited children scurried across the square. All the display windows were decorated for Christmas. Santa Clauses stood in artificial snow drifts, their reindeer-borne sleds laden with packages and toys; mannequins in gorgeous holiday apparel watched the crowds pass by.

They walked through the double doors into the lobby of the St. Francis Hotel, turned left, and ascended the carpeted stairway into the lounge area. Two-story black marble pillars supported the ornate ceiling; all around the walnut paneling were antique furnishings.
They were escorted to a corner table where they sat, euphoric. The waiter brought menus, which they only pretended to examine.

“Jack, there’s something else we need to do soon.”

“Find a place for Germaine to stay overnight, you mean?” Beneath the tablecloth, his hand was advancing up her thigh.

“That too,” she smiled, taking his wandering hand into both of hers. “But we need to take the HIV test.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Is there something I need to know?”

“No more than I do about you. Face it, we’ve both been with other people and we don’t know about the others those people have been with. We’d be crazy not to take the test, now that there is one.”

“Good point. I just hadn’t thought about it, Bella. I was thinking about next weekend, and how lovely you will look—dressed only in your engagement ring.” He looked at her with the eyes of a hunter. “And right now I’m also thinking about what’s on this menu. Sapphires always make me hungry.”

“Then you have a lot of hungry years in front of you. You may become a fat old geezer yet.”

“I’m counting on you to be part of my exercise plan.”

“So what about the HIV test? We should have it done this week, don’t you think?” she persisted.

He looked back down at the menu without changing expression.

“Yes, I’ll have an HIV test and a bowl of chowder please,” he joked. “And a glass of something alcoholic to celebrate the new car— I mean ring—we’ll be putting on your finger. But seriously—you have no idea how relieved I feel now that we’re engaged. I thought I was going to be an old fart who would die all alone, and now the future looks just smashing—absolutely smashing.”

She laughed at his imitation of an English accent.

“You could have had any woman you wanted. But back to my suggestion—if we got tested in the next couple of days, we might
have the results back by next weekend. I don’t know how long it takes.”

“I have to be in court on Monday, but I can take care of it beforehand. And as to your first comment, I never really wanted any woman before you. Not enough to marry. I didn’t have the best role model for marriage, so it’s never been a goal of mine.”

“You can hardly say I’ve had a very good role model for marriage. Good grief!”

“At least Philip and Eleanor are still together. Your father is a nice man, who clearly loves you. You were well taught, whether you liked the methods or not.”

“My father endures because of three things: his work, booze, and me. If he tried to leave, Eleanor would take him for all he’s worth, out of pure spite.”

“He must get something out of it. But let’s not get into that. I don’t want our marriage to be anything short of fabulous and, need I say, extremely rich in earthly delights.” He kissed her hand again.

After they had eaten, Jack asked, “Why don’t you come with me on a quick errand? I have to stop by Janine’s apartment to take care of some things, and it’s the perfect day to introduce you to each other— if you have time.”

The legendary Janine Reneau, at last! “I’d love to.”

T
HE TEMPERATURE WAS DROPPING OUTSIDE.
Jack coughed into his handkerchief. A storm was brewing when they got out of his car in front of an unremarkable building. Mercedes was surprised. She’d imagined Janine living in a swanky apartment like Jack’s, or in Pacific Heights, not in a rundown dwelling with a metal security gate instead of a doorman.

“She’s lived in this same apartment for over forty years, if you can believe it.”

He had keys, and led the way to the elevator lobby. They entered the small elevator and secured the metal accordion gate before the slow, rickety ascent began. When they reached Janine’s apartment on the third floor, Jack rapped on the door and a slight, young Filipino man answered. As soon as he saw Jack he bowed, averted his gaze, and backed away. Jack introduced Mercedes to him—Enrique, Janine’s current caregiver. He looked from her to Jack with great deference. Jack called out Janine’s name and the door was quietly closed behind them.

The apartment was a small four-room unit with high ceilings, an ancient light fixture in the center of the entryway and faded flowered wallpaper. The ornate baseboard molding was thick with dust. None of the woodwork had been painted in a decade. Mercedes could see into a second room that appeared to be a living room. She glimpsed a settee covered in worn green mohair with crocheted doilies draped over its arms. An old-fashioned black phone, exactly like Elizabeth’s, sat on a small table against the wall. The radiator hissed and poured more heat into the stuffy room. Enrique scurried across the faded carpet to the tiny kitchen to put on the kettle. Jack called Janine’s name again, and a faint voice answered.

“Janine, I have a special visitor with me. Can you guess who it might be?”

Janine named a few names, none of which was Mercedes.

They entered the doorway together, hand in hand. The frail old woman sat in a rocking chair with a black shawl around her shoulders, squinting at them. Her snow-white hair was short, thin, and wavy; her skin had the pallor of one who was seldom outdoors. Her eyes were cloudy and pale blue. She wore round wire-rimmed spectacles, a flowered skirt, and matching blouse.

“Come closer, so I can see.” Her hands gripped the wood arms of the rocker and she leaned forward. As Jack drew near, she smiled. He
bent down and kissed her powdery cheek. He lowered his voice and took one of her hands, while still holding onto Mercedes.