I never wanted a diamond ring when French Husband and I married.
or maybe it was because we did not have money to spend on a wedding ring.
It is true that French Husband's Grandmother gave out diamonds from her velvet box of jewels when her grandchildren were to marry. When French Husband told me that a diamond was waiting for him inside his Grandmother's velvet box… well the idea of it seemed like a scene out of a movie. French Husband was her favorite, or at least that is what he told me.
I remember going to her big old house, it was filled from the floor to the ceiling with antiques. It did not matter that I did not speak or understand a word of French– her home was a wonderland of beautiful things, leading me to distraction, most of the time I was too busy dreaming to listen.
Though I do remember the day French Husband told her that we were going to be married. Dressed in her white cotton, fine lace nightgown, she sat on her bed drinking hot chocolate in one hand and in the other twirled the satin ribbon of her bed jacket. She did not bat an eye. French Husband repeated what he said hoping she would bring out her velvet box. But when she put her cup down and rang the little bedside bell for her maid of twenty some years to fetch her some more whipped cream. French Husband was surprised, he leaned over to me, "I don't think she understood what I said."
She sipped her hot chocolate slowly. French Husband waited.
"I never wanted a diamond," I whispered in his ear.
Until the 24th of December 2009. While strolling along in the heart of Paris a velvet box appeared in an antique shop's window. An eighteen-century wedding band with old rough cut diamonds. I put my finger to the window.
French Husband whispered in my ear, "At last."
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