A Ring and a Promise

Ariane wailed a little more. Only it wasn’t really a wail. More like a soft, mewling cry.

“Honey, if you’ll just tell me what’s wrong, I’ll fix it. Do your shoes hurt?” Another shake of that dark glossy head left Donovan looking completely mystified and adorably uncertain.

Although she longed to ignore them both, Abby had to help.

“Hello, Ariane. Donovan. Can I help?”

“I don’t think so, thanks, Abby. Something’s wrong, but—” He stopped as Ariane walked over and threaded her hand into Abby’s. “Oh.”

“I have some drawing crayons in my office,” Abby mused. “Why don’t you come and draw me a picture while we figure out what’s got you so upset?”

Ariane nodded and after a reproachful look at Donovan, walked beside Abby to her office. Seated in a chair, she waited until Abby handed her crayons and some paper. Then her eyes moved to Abby’s ring for the contest. She poked at it curiously, picked it up and slid it on her finger.

Donovan stepped forward as if to stop her, but Abby rested a hand on his arm.

“Wait,” she murmured.

Ariane studied the ring for several moments. Then she put it back and began drawing a representation of it but with added swirls that resembled a flower circling the stone. It took Abby several moments to recognize a gardenia—Winifred’s favorite flower. Did the girl know Art had commissioned the ring for Winifred?

Ariane held up the paper for her to see.

“It’s lovely. May I use it in my design?”

Ariane nodded.

“Good. Now, tell me what’s wrong.” Judging by Ariane’s frown, this was touchy territory. Abby got the ball rolling. “Today’s your first day of school, isn’t it?”

The little girl nodded while big tears dripped down her cheeks.

“But that’s not a sad time. School is fun. You’ll see.” Abby hunched down beside her. “There are lots of books. Do you know how to read?”

Ariane nodded, sniffed.

“She loves stories,” Donovan added.

“And there’s playtime. And craft time. You’ll be good at that.” She touched the girl’s cheek, dabbed at her tears. “You’ll learn lots and lots of new fun things. I did.”

Ariane grabbed another paper. Did you wear a uniform? she printed in a childish scrawl.

“Yes. So did Donovan.”

Ariane tilted her head to see if it was true.

“Abby’s was always clean. Mine got a little dingy.” His funny face made Ariane giggle.

“I suspect you’ll be very popular at school, Ariane. Just like Donovan was.”

“Abby always got the best marks. She beat me in spelling. But I beat her in baseball.” Donovan winked at Ariane who glanced from him to Abby, her confusion evident.

“We got to be friends. When you go to school, you’ll find a friend, too. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Ariane’s bottom lip thrust out. Abby glanced at Donovan. But he was clearly confused by the girl’s distress and couldn’t help. Abby tried again.

“Wouldn’t you like to go just to see who’s there?” She crossed her fingers.

Ariane shook her head.

“But how can you know what might happen if you never try something?” Abby wasn’t sure how to approach this. Being an only child didn’t offer a lot of knowledge about kids.

“Keep going,” Donovan urged.

Abby shot him a glare. As if she didn’t have enough to do. But suddenly she had an idea.

“Do you like ice cream, Ariane?”

Ariane nodded eagerly.

“You had to eat an ice-cream cone first to know you liked it, right? It’s the same with school,” Abby said.

Ariane’s glowering glare said she wasn’t buying Abby’s train of thought.

Abby looked to Donovan for help. Worry colored his eyes and spread fine lines over his forehead. He would be no help.

“What flavors of ice cream do you like?”

Ariane drew a cone with ice cream with brown dots.

“Chocolate chip?” Abby grinned when the child nodded. “What other kinds?”

Ariane frowned, poked at the cone she’d drawn.

“Yeah, I know. But there are lots more ice-cream flavors than that. I often try a new one, just in case I might find something better than butter pecan. It’s my favorite.” Abby picked up a crayon and drew a cone with a pink top. “Strawberry. Peach. Fudge, they’re all pretty good, but butter pecan is the best. Do you like these flavors?”

Ariane pointed to the fudge and the strawberry.

“You don’t like peach?”

Ariane’s shrug said she’d never tried it.

“I like peach. And pistachio. That’s my favorite.” Donovan was getting into the game. “Do you like pistachio, Ari?”

She frowned, thought about it then half shook her head no.

“How do you know?” Abby asked. “Did you try some?”

The little girl crossed her arms across her thin chest, leaned back and glared at them both. She wasn’t going to be easily persuaded. Abby didn’t want to alienate her, but she had to emphasize what she might miss, so she pressed on.

“I know two boys, your cousins, who love bubblegum ice cream. Lots of kids do. You probably would, too,” Abby mused, “if you tried some. Just as you’d like school, if you tried it.”