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I d lost it at the zoo or in the swimming pool?
There was no choice. My mother can spot a fake at a hundred
paces.
I figured. The kettle started to hiss and I turned the gas down so
I wouldn t have boiling water flying out from under the lid, a side effect
of silly but hip design. The kettle was a gift from Suzie.
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I was planning to give the ring to you after it was all over, he
said. As a thank-you. I still have it if you want it.
I touched the pendant. This is more my kind of thing. Although
thanks. I could picture Suzie slapping me upside the head and insisting
I accept the genuine diamond so she could wear it home to impress
her parents. Out of curiosity, I asked, What s a diamond ring like that
worth?
Seventy thousand.
I knew my mouth was hanging open. You re kidding.
Insane, isn t it? It s all about supply and demand. The diamond
industry holds back enough stones to keep prices artificially high.
Just like the oil industry?
Fruit from the same vines of avarice, he said darkly.
How do you know all of this?
My father used to buy loose stones as an investment. One of our
last arguments was over blood diamonds.
I had heard of these. The ones from places where they finance
rebel armies and so on?
Exactly. Like Sierra Leone. Diamonds funded their civil war for
years. Al Qaeda launders money and helps fund terrorism in places like
that by buying blood diamonds.
Amazed to hear Eric talking about something political, I asked,
Did you go to a U2 concert or something?
He laughed. I don t live to party. In fact, now that I m a CEO, I
read daily reports from all major media.
Oh, you ve got a new job?
You could say that. I even have a secretary. She s the one who sent
the packages out to be gift wrapped. She s a cross between a concierge
and a confidante.
I looked down at my new pendant and thought about the occasional
article I d seen about kidnapped children forced to work in mines, their
arms hacked off or their families butchered if they refused. It made
sparkly stones seem much less appealing all of a sudden.
There aren t any blood sapphires, are there? I asked.
You can wear most colored gemstones in good conscience. Eric
sounded like a spokesperson for Stick-it-to-De Beers dot org. Your
sapphire came from Sri Lanka. The workers who mine for them get a
fair share of the value if they find one.
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CHANCE
That s a good thing, because I really like this necklace. I poured
boiling water over some chocolate to melt it, then blended the results
into a saucepan of milk.
Eric came over and stirred the mixture while I found marshmallows.
I mean it about missing you, he said. Can we just kiss and make up
now?
I couldn t resist the pathos in his eyes, and the truth was, I hated
not having him for a friend. It seemed really stupid to keep on being
angry. I was punishing him, but I was also punishing myself. I ve
missed you too. My voice was so husky I had to cough to clear my
vocal chords. I ve been stubborn.
You had every right to be pissed.
Why did you do it?
He watched me pour the hot chocolate into mugs and pile on the
marshmallows. I m going to tell you something. He lowered his
voice. But you have to promise me you ll never say a word about it
to anyone.
Sure. My lips are sealed.
He followed me into the living area and we sat down on my old
sofa. Cagily, he said, I was trying to protect my mother.
I frowned, perplexed. How exactly was finding me in bed with
Layla going to protect your mother?
He took a slow, deep breath like he was about to swear an oath
on the witness stand. Again he reiterated, Remember, you can t tell a
soul.
My word is my bond, I rashly declared. It was a sordid fact that
I had never been very good at keeping secrets, but with more practice I
thought I could probably improve on past performance.
Well, since you re not the leader of the free world, that means
something, Eric said. Fact one Layla isn t my cousin, she s my
half-sister.
I sputtered some marshmallow foam and wiped my mouth with
my fingers. I had no idea where Eric was heading with this startling
disclosure, but he had my undivided attention. I kept my mouth shut
and listened.
My dad had a relationship with Layla s mom. Mother never knew
about it and it would have stayed that way except for Dad s attitude
toward me. He made a new will, you see. In it, he left everything to my
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Grace Lennox
mother and Layla.
So this was all about money. Just as I d suspected.
No, he protested. I didn t care who he left his money to. The
thing is, he wrote a letter of explanation to go with the will.
I could feel my brain straining to tie these facts together to explain
why Layla had slept with me. What happened to the letter?
Wait. Here s how cunning the old man was. Bitterness invaded
Eric s voice. He told me all about the will not long after I came out to
him. He said if I didn t straighten myself out, so to speak, I d end up
with nothing.
What a trip. I could see now why Eric had mixed feelings about
his father. That s some nasty emotional blackmail.
I told him I didn t care about the money. God, he hated that. Eric
lapsed into reflection.
I could tell he was still wounded, and I could relate. My father
had also betrayed me and my mother. The difference was, he d never
stopped loving me and in the end, we talked about what had happened.
He apologized for hurting me and I forgave him and let go of my anger.
It only cost ten thousand bucks for six months of family therapy to
reach this milestone. Money well spent, both my parents said. I wished
Eric and his father had done something like that, but there are men who
will never go to therapy. My mom said it was because they had to be
right about everything. I had a feeling Eric s father was one of these.
I touched his hand. I wish you d had a chance to talk to him
again.
I wish we could have had a real conversation while he was still
okay, Eric said with resigned sorrow. But Dad wasn t a good listener.
It was his way or the highway.
I don t get it. I hesitated to sound like I didn t buy his story or
understand his feelings, but something didn t add up. If you didn t
care about the money, why did you want to go through with the fake
engagement?
Ah, yes. Well, here s the kicker. Eric lifted his movie-star eyes
to mine and treated me to an expression full of injured pride, exactly the
same one I d seen on Layla s face a few nights earlier. No wonder they
were spookily alike. Last year Dad finally realized I meant it about the
money, so he had to find something else he could hold over me.
I held my breath waiting to hear what else this stupid, homophobic
man had done to destroy his son s love for him. And, indeed, there was
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CHANCE
more.
That was when he told me about his affair with Aunt Sara and
about Layla. He said he d put it all in a letter to be read with his new will.
He said Mother would never forgive Aunt Sara and their relationship
would be ruined. The family would never be the same again and it
would be my fault.
That s horrible. I m sorry, but your father sounds like an
asshole.
He changed, Eric said sadly. I don t think he would have done
something like that normally. But he had a brain tumor. Over time it
made him paranoid and mean.
So the letter was the real issue?
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