“Where are we going?”

“To the Fairmont, remember?”

“Not to church?”

“Why the fuck would we want to go to church?”

“To get married.”

“Oh, that kind of church … Later. How about getting engaged?” He looked at the signet ring on his hand again. He had been so pleased with the gift. But she saw the look in his eyes, and anticipated what he had in mind.

“You can’t give me that I gave it to you. That would be Indian giving, not a proper engagement … an Indian engagement? In any case, I don’t believe it would be for real.” She looked haughty and was listing badly to one side.

“I don’t believe you’re for real, Mama. But okay, if this one won’t do it, let’s stop and get a ‘proper’ engagement ring. What would you consider proper? I hope it’s something smaller than a ten-carat diamond.”

“That would be vulgar.”

“That’s a relief.” He grinned at her, and she dropped the haughty look for a smile.

“I think I’d like something blue.”

“Oh. Like a turquoise?” He was teasing, but she was too drunk to see it.

“That would be pretty … or a lapis patchouli….”

“I think you mean lapis lazuli.”

“Yes, that’s who I mean. Sapphires are nice too, but they’re too expensive, and they crack. My grandmother had a sapphire that …” He shut her up with a kiss, while pressing the button to lower the window separating them from the chauffeur.

“Is there a Tiffany’s here?” He knew all the right names now. For a man who hadn’t known the difference between a Pucci and a lap dog four months ago, he had learned the private dialect of the upper classes with astonishing speed. Bendel’s, Cartier’s, Parke Bernet, Gucci, Pucci, Van Cleef, and of course … Tiffany, everyone’s favorite supermarket for diamonds. And comparable stones…. undoubtedly, they would have something blue, other than turquoise.

“Yes, sir. There’s a Tiffany’s here. On Grant Avenue.”

“Then take us there before the hotel. Thanks.” He rolled the window back into place. He had learned that one too.

“My God, Lucas, we’re getting engaged? For real?” Tears sprang to her eyes as she smiled.

“Yes, but you’re going to stay in the car. The papers would really love this one. Kezia Saint Martin gets engaged at Tiffany’s, and the bride was noticeably inebriated.”

“Noticeably shitfaced,” she corrected.

“Excuse me.” He gently relieved her of the empty glass she’d been holding, and kissed her. They rode into town sitting close together in the back of the car, his arm around her, a beatific smile on her face, and a look of peace on his that hadn’t been there for weeks.

“Happy, Mama?”

“Very.”

“Me too.”

The driver stopped in front of the gray marble facade of Tiffany’s on Grant Avenue, and Luke gave her a hasty kiss and dashed from the car, with a sobering admonition that she stay there.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t leave without me. And don’t under any circumstances get out of the car. You’d fall flat on your ass.” Then, as an afterthought, he stuck his head in the window and wagged a finger at her slightly hazed eyes. “And stay out of the champagne!”

“Go to hell!”

“I love you too.” He gave her a quick wave over his shoulder as he dashed into the store. It seemed like only five minutes before he was back.

“Show me what you got!” She was so excited she could hardly sit still. Unlike other women at her age, this was the first time she’d gotten engaged.

“I’m sorry, baby. They didn’t have anything I liked, so I didn’t get anything.”

“Nothing?” she looked crushed.

“No … and to tell you the truth, they didn’t have a thing I could afford.”

“Oh shit.”

“Darling, I’m sorry.” He looked crestfallen and held her close.

“Poor Lucas, how awful for you. I don’t need a ring, though.” She suddenly brightened and tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice, but she was so tipsy that it was hard to keep it all in control.

“Do you suppose we could get engaged without a ring?” He sounded almost humble.

“Sure. I now pronounce thee engaged.” She waved an imaginary wand at him, and smiled happily into his eyes. “How does it feel?”

“Fantastic! Hey, far out! Look what I found in my pocket!” He pulled out a dark blue velvet cube. “It’s something blue, isn’t that what you wanted? A blue velvet box.”

“Oh you … you! You did get me a ring!”

“No. Just the box.” He dropped it into her lap and she snapped the lid open and gasped.

“Oh Lucas, it’s gorgeous! It’s … it’s incredible! I love it!” It was an emerald-cut aquamarine with a tiny diamond chip set on either side. “It must have cost you a fortune. And oh darling, I love it!”

“Do you, babe? Does it fit?” He took it from the box for her and carefully slipped it on her finger. Doing that was a heady feeling for both of them, as though when it reached the base of her finger something magic would happen. They were engaged. Christ, what a trip!

“It fits!” Her eyes danced as she held out her hand, looking at the ring from every possible angle. It was a beautiful stone.

“Shit. It looks like it’s loose. Is it too big?”

“No, it isn’t. No, it isn’t! Honest!”

“Liar. But I love you. We’ll get it sized tomorrow.”

“I’m engaged!”

“Hey, that’s funny, lady. Me too. What’s your name?”

“Mildred. Mildred Schwartz.”

“Mildred, I love you. That’s funny though, I thought your name was Kate. Didn’t it used to be?” He had a tender light in his eye, remembering the first day he’d met her.

“Isn’t that what I told you when we met?” She was a little too drunk to be sure.

“It was. You were already a liar way back then.”

“I already loved you then, too. Right away, just about.” She sank back into his arms again, with her own memories of their first days.

“You loved me then?” He was surprised. He thought it had taken longer. She had been so evasive at first.

“Uh huh. I thought you were super. But I was scared you’d find out who I was.”

“Well, at least now I know. Mildred Schwartz. And this, my love, is the Fairmont.” They had just pulled up in the driveway, and two porters approached to assist the chauffeur with their bags. “Want me to carry you out?”

“That’s only when you get married. We’re only engaged.” She flashed the ring at him with a smile which enchanted him.

“Please forgive the impertinence. But I’m not sure you can walk.”

“I beg your pardon, Lucas. I most certainly can.” But she wove badly when her feet touched the pavement.

“Just keep your mouth shut, Mama, and smile.” He picked her up in his arms, nodded to the porters and mentioned something about a weak heart, and a long plane trip, while she quietly nibbled his ear. “Stop that!”

“I will not.”

“You will, or I’ll drop you. Right here. How’d you like a broken ass for an engagement present?”

“Up your ass, Lucas.”

“Shh … keep your voice down.” But he wasn’t much more sober than she; he only held it a mite better.

“Put me down, or I’ll sue you.”

“You can’t. We’re engaged.” He was halfway through the lobby with Kezia in his arms.

“And it’s such a pretty ring too. Lucas, if you only knew how much I love you.” She let her head fall onto his shoulder and studied the ring. He carried her easily, like a rag doll, or a very small child.

“Due to Mrs. Johns’ weak heart, and her weakened condition from the flight,” would they send the registration forms up to the room? The couple rode quickly up in the elevator, with Kezia carefully propped up in a corner. Luke watched her with a grin.

“I’ll walk to the room, thank you.” She looked at him imperiously, and tripped as she got out of the elevator. He caught her before she fell, and he offered her his arm, trying hard to keep a straight face.

“Madam?”

“Thank you, sir.” They walked gingerly down the hall, with Luke supporting most of her weight, and at last arrived at the room.

“You know what’s funny, Lucas?” When she was drunk, she had the voice of Palm Beach, London, and Paris.

“What, my dear?” Two could play that game.

“When we came up in the elevator, I felt like we could see the whole world, even the sky, the Golden Gate Bridge … everything. Is that what being engaged does to you?”

“No. It’s what being in a glass elevator does to you, when it runs along the outside of the building, and you ride in it when you’re drunk. You know, sort of like special effects.” He gave her his most charming smile.

“Go to hell.”

The porter was waiting for them in the door of the suite, and Luke tipped him solemnly and closed the door behind him.

“And I suggest that you lie down, or take a shower. Probably both.”

“No, I want to …” She walked slowly toward him, an evil gleam in her eye, and he laughed.

“As a matter of fact, Mama, so do I.”

“Hey, lady, it’s a beautiful day.”

“Already?”

“It has been for hours.”

“I think I’m going to die.”

“You’re hung over. I ordered coffee for you.” He smiled at the look on her face. They had made matters worse with a third bottle of champagne after dinner. It had been a night for lengthy celebration. Their engagement. It was more than a little mad. He knew only too well that by the following day he could be in jail, which was why he hadn’t jumped at the thought of Reno or Vegas. But that was one thing he wouldn’t do to her. If they revoked him, that was it. He wasn’t going to take her down with him, as his wife. He loved her too much to do that to her.

She struggled with the coffee, and felt better after a shower.

“Maybe I’m not going to die after all. I’m not quite sure yet.”

“You never know with a weak heart like yours.”