Just a Ring


delilah_icon.gif sable_icon.gif

Scene Title Just a Ring
Synopsis A ring given, a night out planned and a trip intended.
Date March 11, 2010

Octagon: Delilah's Apartment

The apartments of the Octagon are among some of the most prime pieces of rental real-estate in New York City. Bright, open, and clean, these apartments are all painted an eggshell white and feature floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a sweeping, unobstructed view of the East River and Manhattan skyline. Hardwood floors spread from wall to wall and through the spacious bedrooms and private laundry rooms complete with washer/dryer utilities.

The open-concept kitchen in the apartment features stainless steel appliances, polished granite countertops, cherry finished cabinets and ceramic floor tile with all the convenience of a modern kitchen. The bathrooms are finished with classic subway wall tile and porcelain floor tile in bathrooms with elegantly designed corner-set curved showers wproviding more spacious shower area along with porcelain pedestal sinks.

Each apartment comes in two or three bedroom designs, each with spacious walk-in closets with individually controlled heating and cooling. The apartment is also set up with free Cable TV and Internet hook-ups in multiple locations.

There's a box that's been sitting with Sable's things for some time now. This box has been well hidden, in the transitory clutter she keeps her music things in, regular comings and goings from this stockpile discouraging any dangerous attempts to tidy it up and - thus - reveal her secret. It is a secret, though a small one, and it is hidden so well for fear it will seem a big one. For almost a month it has bounced between guitar cases, hidden in instruments, under instruments, under stacks of paper scrawled all over with messy writing.

Today, though, Sable has it in hand, clutched in her callused musician's fingers. Small and black and velvet, it's a sight most romantically momentous and possibly totally foreboding, depending on your perspective, and the alertness of Sable's posture and the closeness with which she holds the box are due to her very understanding this split. She sits on the floor, with a clear line of sight towards the door, waiting like a faithful canine companion for the arrival of the lady of the house. Legs crossed, yellow eyes fixed on the doorknob, Sable uses the edge of her thumbnail to jimmy open the box a crack before pulling back, letting it snip back fully closed, fidgeting to pass time.

Sable isn't alone in her doggedness; Samson, the actual dog here, lies on his stomach right beside her, haunches folded and forelegs out in front of him. Every so often he gives Sable an expectant sidelong glance. They probably do this a lot, don't they?

When the door clicks at the handle to swing open, Walter's seat hovers in first, and he is awake and telling Delilah about something, judging by how he is just making noises, unintelligible but purposeful. Delilah follows right behind, her winter coat open for the warmer, moist March air, though her cheeks still find enough cold to flush pink when she got inside the building. There's never anything to expect when she gets home like this, so there are a few awkward moments where she doesn't notice Sable sitting in the middle of the den. Walter gets put down, and she is halfway out of her coat before she realizes the other girl is sitting there looking at the door. Dee starts a little, and blinks.

"Oh- jeez. Don't scare me like that-" She laughs loudly, and takes her coat to hang it up.

Dee misses it, the brightness on Sable's face the moment she enters. The its full illumination is only momentary, and it fades into somewhat less intense but still poignant fondness as Delilah goes about her business, unaware she's being so adoringly regarded. Un-knowledge only makes her seem more graceful, to Sable's mind. But Sable stacks the deck heavily in Dee's favor, so her judgments cannot be seen as universal.

The nervousness she displayed is gone by the time Delilah has spotted her and Samson, whose companionship has been invaluable during their joint vigils. It's gone because Sable has forgotten why she was waiting in the first place, the thought held in abeyance until she gets as far as saying: "Jus' didn't want t' miss a glimpse 'f y' is all-" before she remembers what it is she's fiddling with. The box. Oh yes! The box!

"Uh-" the yellow eyed woman begins, and then scrambles to her feet, "I got somethin' for y'. Sorta- late? But I dunno, don't need no day 'special t' feel as I do so…" she sticks out her arm, offering the little black box up to Delilah, "y'all open it. If I open it for y', it'll seem all- like-" she grins, nervousness back in forth, "well, like I'm jumpin' th' gun. Which I don't think I am so, like… yeah…"

Samson sits up when Sable stands, keeping where he is and thumping his tail against the carpet. He watches Delilah, who is moving Walter and herself inside. "I'll give you a bone in a minute-" She tells him, fully expecting him to understand. He doesn't, but he does wait for it. Dee smiles at Sable when she speaks and stands straight, tilting her head to listen as she pulls the baby up out of his seat and into her arms. Walter latches on like a koala, blue eyes looking at her hair.

"Sorta late how?" There is a bit of confusion there, and an awkward moment of observing when Sable produces the little box. Yeah, she's right- that could have been pretty delicate if she just showed it off. Whatever it is. That size box though- is really only one thing. "Ohh- hu- oh. Okay…" Delilah smiles again, but more softly this time; she holds the baby in one arm and gently takes up the box with the other to similarly jimmy it open with her thumb. Of course, because she has something, Walter has turned his attention there too.

"Got it on V-Day," Sable explains, hands slipping into her pockets in slightly bashful expectation as Delilah pops the ring box open. Ring box it is, in fact, and the white gold band within is adorned with tiny emeralds, gleaming with the pluckiness of the low carat gem, sparkling twice as bright to make up for their smallness.

The diminutive Ms. Diego smiles hopefully. "Jus' a ring, 'course. But, I dunno, sorta not jus'. Or jus', but with thoughts about how, like, I dunno," she scuffs a shoe against the floor, glancing over at Walter, like maybe he'll be able to articulate in baby babble what her less-than-plain English is having trouble conveying, "that French chick, one w's at Magnes' party? She helped me pick that'n' out. I told her I w's shoppin' f'r my, like, girlfriend which, like, I guess is what I'm sorta hopin' y'all are. And me givin' this 'n' askin' that aren't the same, but they come at th' same time 'cause, like," she shrugs, words running out, "y' know." Again a look to Walter. He gets it, right?

Delilah's eyebrows tick upwards a tad when she gets the box open to see. Perhaps in a moment lacking of faith, she does wonder how Sable decided to choose this above something else; she answers that for herself, though, once she mentions Remi. Walter, unfortunately, has no idea what is going on, and just puts a fist of fingers into some of Dee's hair, wrapping it up in his hands with little purpose.

Most people might have a harder time translating what is being said; Delilah can mostly understand what Sable is getting at, so if she misjudges the intention of the delicate little ring, it is her own inability and not Sable's.

"If I wasn't, that'd be a mite odd. I mean, you do sleep in my bed most of the time." The redhead says it gently, a tiny grin playing on her lips. She does try to keep it from going rogue on her face, at the very least. "This is very beautiful, Sable, and so sweet of you." Dee didn't need something for V-Day, however late, but of course- it's Sable- and when it comes to the lateness, that is Sable too. Figures she'd put it off, it makes some sense.

She missed it before, but this smile beats out the previous one by orders of magnitude. Perfect answer - Sable feels a weight rise off her in the retroactive dismissal of a host of little worries and suitor's doubts. "Lemme-" she says, almost bounding across the space between them and reaching for the box and the ring within, tugging the circlet free and, clasping Delilah's hand, eyes darting up to her face in short sallies to check for permission, even as she slips it onto Dee's middle finger. She clasps' Dee's hand in both of hers, and looks up.

"Oh! That ain't all," she suddenly realizes, and proceeds to dig deep into her cargo pants pocket. She comes up carrying a quartet of sleek, glossy slips of stock. Tickets. "Same gal helped me in th' shop, fixed me up with some tickets t', like ballet," she says, grinning crookedly at the very absurdity of the notion even as she tries to sell it, "rich f'r my tastes but… I'd wanna take y', if y'all can manage it. It's uh-" she checks the tickets, "March 18th. Swan Lake, which I guess is kinda famous 'r somethin'," yes, Sable, kinda, "plus I got two more, we c'n bring who we like, eh?"

Sable turns to regard Walter, holding the tickets just with his reach and giving them a small wave. "Y'all wanna come, chum, we gotta get you an itty bitty tux, so's y' fit in with them high society folk."

Delilah allows Sable to play that role in putting a ring on her finger- not in that way, but it feels kind of like something fresher. A moment of clarity, perhaps. She looks over the diminutive stones set in it, color over substance. It's an interesting feeling to have something like that on her hand, too. As if it feels out of place. It does, at the moment, though that feeling will pass smoothly over in time.

"I just haven't really gotten gifts like this. Thank you…" It is a genuine expression, despite its shortness. Dee looks after Sable's hand when she wags the tickets up out of her pocket. She looks unconvinced of one thing- "You? Want to go to the ballet with me? I adore Swan Lake." Her voice has that subtle, increasing interest to it. Walter looks at the tickets that are nudged into his vision, catching the shine of them in his gaze. "While the idea is adorable, I'm not sure you can take babies to the ballet."

No greater compliment can be paid to a thing such as the ring, as to be forgotten. To pass from presence to substance, foreign to home, 'it' to 'mine'. It's precisely what Sable wants, too. Not a guest in this home, but a resident. There's a lot of hope jumbled up with a lot of other things banging around in Sable's head as she steals a look at the ring she's just place on Dee's hand, and Delilah's question serves as an excellent reason not to get too lost in them.

"Yeah, I do," Sable confirms, understanding fully that this may not quite seem to be her element, "gal who gave me th' tickets sold me pretty good. Told me it's a story. 'N' I c'n dig stories got music an art to 'em. But I need y'all with me there, 'cause if y' aren't I'll waste th' whole time wishin' you were, miss th' whole show."

She pockets the tickets - they can be kept safe until the day of - and extends her arms in a gesture easily identifiable - she's offering to take Walter. "But ain't all that culture good f'r his formin' mind?" Sable asks, smile daring into a grin, her giddy confidence held back a bit due to it's very straining for the stratosphere, "for shame. No wonder kids don't got no values no more."

"Sure it is, but he won't remember a lick of it." Delilah shifts the baby to give him over to Sable. He latches one hand in that curl of her hair though, and she takes a second to untangle his fingers from it. What! No! I want it- he makes a bit of a face. "When he can remember I'll have no problem taking him to shows and museums and what have you. Trust me. We'll make him into a hipster at this rate, though."

She leans in and puts a kiss onto his head, then one for Sable, her hand on the other girl's cheek- but that one is on the lips, short yet affectionate. "Thank you, again. You're lovely to me."

She's had time enough, has Sable, to get used to holding baby Walter, though it often surprises her, how quickly he's growing, how much difference a mere month makes. She tries to compensate him for the loss of Delilah's hair by making faces of her own, eyes crossing and uncrossing, the show kept up until she finds a hand on her cheek and then lips against hers and then…

When Sable's eyes open again, they are no longer crossed, though that was certainly in the cards. The smile that dawns on the horizon of her lips is utterly guileless. "'N' yer jus' lovely," she answers, "'n' I'm, like, proud b'yond measure t' be-," she bites her lip, thinking just how to express… "here. With you. 'N' this fella," she adds, casting a grin at Walter, "'cause I know jus' what it means, y' let a crazy like me watch over yer child."

Sable sidles over to the couch, settling into a corner and tugging her legs up under her Indian-style, before lifting Walter up into the air, tilting her head as she watches him, suspended. "Baby's gonna fly with us t' Atlanta?" she asks, "wanna do that soon, love," she beams, "wanna see what sorta job yer auntie c'n give a shiftless little punk like me."

"I could pick less qualified people, I'm sure." Delilah twines her wrists and hands around one another as Sable takes a seat with the baby. He is okay with being rearranged, if Sable is going to entertain him during. His mother takes this time to put away the seat and breeze through mail on the table before she joins Sable on the sofa, plunking herself down on the other end. "I don't know- I didn't think much about it, I was going to leave him with Marien.."

"I guess babies can fly though, can't they? What do you think?" It is Sable's trip they have in mind, it is less for a vacation time and more for a time of reflection- but if Sable wants to show off her girlfriend and the girl's baby at the same time, it doesn't sound as if she'd mind. Meanwhile, Dee is trying not to look too much at the ring on her hand, but of course that doesn't go so well, and she finds herself smiling at it again.

Sable looks ever so slightly sly, quite the feat for someone who's currently giving herself a hideous overbite for the amusement of an infant in her lap. Her face regains relatively normal composition as she steals a look over at Delilah, as if they were somehow conspiring. "Well, love…" she begins, legs shifting out from under her so she can set Walter above her knees, "if Her Royal Polkness is willin' t' take 'em, can't say I mind gettin' th' time with jus' you…"

Sable zooms a finger down towards Walter's nose, drifting the tip back and forth before bopping him lightly on the nose. "Anyhow, mebbe two virgin flights 't once is bad luck, eh?" she glances up at Delilah, "or has this'n' been a plane b'fore?"

Walter watches Sable's finger, of course. Eyes cross and follow it along, and his face crinkles up when she pokes him. Hey- "Hah, maybe. No, he hasn't. Not in a hurry to anyway. You've never flown before?" Dee puts her legs out against the inside of the seat, socked feet bumping against Sable's leg. Her hands fold over one another in her lap. "I'll let her know then."

"Whenever you want to go, it shouldn't be a problem to. Whenever you're ready. If Marien can't watch him, I'm sure someone else wouldn't mind it. No shortage of people that would do it."

"Dunno 'bout buyin' tickets, how much 'n' how long b'fore 'n' all," Sable admits, drawing Walter up, then setting him down on his back, using a free hand to capture one of Delilah's feet, squeezing, "but how's this here comin' week sound? Mebbe, like, next weekend?" She gives a small laugh. "Shit. Actually goin' back. I- uh- I guess I didn't think it'd be a big deal 'r nothin' but knowin' that I'm goin' back… right now just made me feelin' awful strange," she clicks her tongue, "but I guess y'all told me so, eh? Glad y'll be with me. Here, there, everywhere, darlin'."

"After the eighteenth, or the week after that one? Both sound okay to me. I can't imagine we will stay too long, will we? Enough to do what we need to." And, Dee hopes, enough time for Sable to maybe show her something from before, whatever it may be. Nothing in particular, just something to show that it's a no holds situation. She only learned Sable's real name a couple months ago, for instance.

"It'll feel strange. I suspect whenever I go back to Manchester it'll feel the same. It probably happens to everyone that does it." Delilah can only hope that that part helps a bit, when Sable thinks about actually going.

"A strange thing, comin' from somewhere that ain't home no more," Sable says, thumb pressing against Delilah's big toe, "rememberin' it and it rememberin' you, askin' things 'f you," she wrinkles her nose, "or that's how I figure it feelin'. Figure I'll know m'self."

Walter is lifted, offered back to his mother, and Sable folds her legs beneath her as she leans over to Delilah. "Time comes, y' know I'm with y', if I'm with y'. So, love," she turns, back braced against the arm of the chair, socked feet meeting socked feet, toe to heel as she tugs her legs up before her. Her smile invisible behind her knees, her eyes communicate all the same. "Here's hopin'."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License