When it came time for the rings, I pulled the little silver band out of my jacket pocket.
June looked at it.
She looked at it for a long moment, and then she started laughing so hard the heart monitor jumped and Bettina half-rose out of her chair.
“A pink heart,” June gasped, tears streaming down her face. “Gordie Ashby, you went and found me a pink heart.”
“It was that or a mood ring.”
“Oh, it’s perfect.” She held out her trembling hand. “It’s my favorite ring in the whole world. Put it on me before I change my mind.”
I slid it onto her finger. It was a little loose. She curled her hand to keep it in place.
Then she slid the plain gold band onto mine, slowly, with great concentration, and held it there with her thumb.
“I, June,” she said, “take you, Gordie. Forty-five years late. But I’m taking you.”
