five carat ruby

In my 20’s, the way I got out of marriage talk was to say that discussions began with a five carat ruby. Not that I was a gold-digger; most of the time I earned more than my paramours, even with an academic salary, and I was generous with what I had. Instead, the impossibility of such a lovely tchotchke making a home on my finger – due to both their rarity and cost – was an airtight barrier.

Now a few weeks shy of 41, I take a detour into a jeweler’s shop while my husband brings my son to play on some bear sculptures in a shopping center. Wandering through the store, I came upon case after case of completely unnecessary and indulgent possibilities to mark another year. I still like rubies, and have a ruby and diamond band from friends to mark last year’s birthday and my July son.

And then I saw it. I haven’t priced such things in many years, and so I asked timidly if it was over 10,000. (Of course.) It was a favorite piece of the women who worked in the jeweler’s shop – the stone was polished and smooth, a cabochon. We checked the weight – 5.62 carats. It was set with strings of small diamonds, thin highway on and offramps around a smooth ruby hill. While the setting was not my style, it fit.

I guess it’s time to have that discussion.

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1 Comment

Filed under autonomy, Humor, jewelry, Love, marriage, relationships, ruby, wives

One response to “five carat ruby

  1. Gosh. If you buy this one you must photograph it. I’ve never even touched a ring worth more than $10,000.

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