I wanted to call my mother and father to share the news. She would immediately start asking about flowers, dresses, and hors d’oeuvres. It was the typical protocol for brides and their mothers, but we’d have to flip through the pages of Brides magazine at another not-so-crucial time. I wanted to scream from the rooftops that I was engaged, but Finn and I agreed it wasn’t the right time. We’d have to wait until after the Fire Spell. I had to admit there was something special about keeping it between us for a little while longer. “Can you tell me about the ring?” I hadn’t taken my eyes off it since we got in the car. Finn was driving the rest of the way. “Sure. The setting was my mother’s.” He smiled at me, tracing his finger over the ring. “But the center stone—that is all yours.” “It’s just so big and sparkly. It has to be at least two carats.” “At least.” He winked. Later I would ask him how long he had it and which mother it belonged to. Right now, I wanted to revel in this feeling.
