Chapter 12 – Woman

“Diane’s lucky to have Eric work on the house and do the yard. He happily volunteers to do manly things like unclog the sink in her bathroom or fix the back door. All the tools he keeps in his car he brings to work on things inside. Diane and I both watch him like hungry school girls. I hope she isn’t breaking things on purpose.”

As spring warmed California, Jenny’s health and our bond were still strong and thriving. All of the positive energies that followed us here in ’73 seemed to be weaving more magic. There were forgivable traces of drug use, the insane hours stopped at the clubs, and even though we had by now both abandoned school, we had so much time to spend with one another. The simplest, basic moments were purposely absorbed into my memory because it felt so good to be with her.

I never told my dad I decided to give up summer classes. On the bright side, my manager promoted me, I was getting more money, and I used it to buy Jenny a ring. We had never talked about marriage nor did I think Jenny was the type to want such a common formality. But regardless, I wanted to show her how much she meant to me. I couldn’t honestly recall the last really nice thing I did for her. Without Jenny knowing, I went to Santa Monica and looked at a few shops. I couldn’t afford most of what I was looking at, but I found a pretty silver ring with emerald stone set in the middle. I had them nicely wrap it and figured I’d surprise her with it.

On Tuesday, April 8th, her birthday, we made a picnic at the north end of Venice Beach. There was hardly anyone or any bird around. If I didn’t stare too hard, I’d swear it was 200 years prior before Man slid into this land. As coincidence has it, the week before, Bill Gates was forming what would become the technological monster called Microsoft. Obviously no one knew that back then nor would anyone care…except maybe Nathan and his Tech buddies.

As we ate our sandwiches, Jenny’s hair flowed so gracefully in the breeze. “Eric, this was very nice of you.”

“I hope you’re having a good birthday so far,” handing her a chocolate frosted cupcake.

She smiled so sweetly…an obvious yes.

“I have a present for you.”

“Just one?” she joked.

“I wanted to get you something that shows my true feelings, something that would always remind you that I’m here for you and that I love you.” She continued to smile as her eyes searched over me, trying to figure out what I had and where it was. From my pants pocket came the small box wrapped in gold paper. She still couldn’t see it because my hand was concealing the contents. “Open your hands and close your eyes.”

“What are you giving me, the change in your pocket? Ha ha!”

I placed the box in her hand, her eyes opened, and her chuckle stopped. From the look in her eyes, I could tell her thoughts could not form the proper words because it caught her so off-guard. Her fingers fumbled to tear back the paper away from the felt box, and search for which side opened. So, I helped her.

Jenny’s mouth puckered, her eyes filled quickly with tears, and choked up. She gathered enough composure to whisper, “I love you so much! I love you, Eric.” I helped her put the ring on which I was proud I got the size right. She stared at it through the tears, and leaned in to be held. “It’s very pretty. Thank you! Thank you for getting me this. Thank you!”

It was a proud moment for me. I felt I made both of us very happy that day. Whether or not we even finished our food, I don’t know. To complement the moment, we watched the sunset and headed back to Diane’s. She was the first to see Jenny’s ring. Everyone Jenny knew got to see it because she made it obvious. In that sense, she had a very girly moment that she usually would never break down and advertise.

When people asked if it was an engagement ring, she’d reply, “Maybe it is.” Then she’d look at me and add, “But I don’t think we have enough invitations for the Holiday People.” This inside joke made no sense to anyone who heard it. Despite hearing about the Holiday People a hundred times, references to them didn’t always make sense to me either.

And as much as I wanted her to have the ring, it took time to get used to. It snagged the covers and my arms when in bed. When she moved her hands, let’s say while talking, she subconsciously flaunted it. Then I’d stare at it. And after all the questions from people around us, I asked her what she felt about marriage.

“Do you think we’re the marrying type?”

“No, but have you ever considered it?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Eric, you’re the guy who I love and no piece of paper can prove that. The ring is gorgeous and I wear it every day because of its meaning, but don’t feel you needed to get it to prove your love to me.”

“But I feel I haven’t done enough for you as of late.”

“You’ve already done enough for me that I could die fulfilled.”

Having the ring probably gave Jenny a new sense of self-worth. Someone cared about her enough to buy an item of symbolism and value (not just monetary). It became a part of her and seeing her completely naked in the shower, stripped of all man-made coverings, that emerald-laced ring stood out against her nude body and stunning green eyes.

To heighten the attention of it, she’d get new clothes at the boutique and thrift store which were similar in color to the stone. Or she’d even paint her nails emerald. “Eric, it matches my eyes,” and she’d flutter her lashes like a 20’s starlet. And yes, it did match her eyes.

Knowing the ring was always on her finger brought me a sense of security. At some point of time, every man has had a concern about another man hitting on his girl. With the ring, it said “not available,” well more so than not having one.

“Do you take the ring off at work?”

“No, why?”

“Well, guys see you’re not single and may hold back on tips.”

“They’re not staring at my hands, silly.”

“What are they staring at then?”

Cupping her breasts, “These!”

“Fuck! That’s reassuring, you know?”

“I’m just kidding.” Rocking her head, “Shit. I don’t get hit on as often as you think.”

“That’s good.”

“At least most of them are guys. Strangely, some of them are girls.”

Glaring over, “You’re not making me feel better.”

Smiling, “Oh, I know how to make you feel better, baby.”

“I still can’t get over my ring. I stare at it all the time and I know Eric sees me doing it. It must drive him crazy and he must want to take it away from me, I know it. Right now I’m unsuccessfully fighting all of my girl instincts. This is so heavy it’s hard to keep up a front. I just wanna put on makeup and be adorable for him. I’m turning into a reader of Cosmo. Fuck.

The ring feels so natural on me. I thought I’d feel like I was owned wearing it, but that’s not the case. Looking at it, it’s gorgeous. It really is and he’s so sweet for getting it. Maybe I need to get him one, too?

Eric said the dreaded M-word. Don’t know about that. Don’t know if I wanna be me and live an Ozzie & Harriet lifestyle. It all seems so formal. But if we did get married, that is a big IF, I would do everything I could to make Eric happy in the same way he has done for me. Maybe we’d get a house, have babies, and grow old together. He’d have a son to teach football to and I’d have a daughter to not be outnumbered by the boys. Maybe I’d do things different than Mom and Daddy but who knows? No one gets married hoping to fail. It just happens, perhaps. Mae and Gilbert just didn’t coexist happily. I wouldn’t want to do that to Eric.

I don’t know. This is all so confusing. Sissy hasn’t been much help either. She teased me saying she’d make wedding bell cookies. God help her if she does!”

On the next page of her entry she traced her left hand which bore the ring. Often I’ve placed my large hand over her dainty outline, pretending to be pressed against hers. I’ve dirtied the page due to repetition over time.