THE RING: HORROR HAS A NEW FACE

The single largest cash purchase of my lifetime has been and continues to be my wife's engagement ring. Not knowing much about the ways of the world, I walked into Shreve, Crump, and Low in Boston and asked them about custom engagement rings, diamonds, metals, the works. Kate was happy with the result and we're married now, so it felt like a fair price.

One of my early concerns was ring size. If the ring is too small it will not fit her finger; as slender and feminine as they are strong around your throat. Imagine the embarrassment as I try to put the ring on her finger and she ... hmmmffft.. grrrr... CANT'T.... GET ... IT.... ON. Too big and nothing prevents it from flying off at an inopportune time and sailing into some story that we would tell years from now. A sort of "material possessions can't describe our love, but DAMN! that was expensive" kind of story. I had to get the ring size right. I forget now how I got the info but, needless to say, the method was smooth. The ring was designed, ordered, crafted, delivered. Business was transacted. Nuptials were planned and carried out. Bliss ensued.

Cut to a happy summer day at Long Beach on Cape Cod. Friends, sun, a tiny dog, kayaks. Rings removed from fingers and placed in a beach bag. Bag moved around by various species in attendance. Much (much) later the ring is missing. Searching, digging, sifting, pulling a deck apart, considered renting a metal detector. Nothing. Even the drunk family with their six kids couldn't find the ring in the fine sands of the beach when we returned hours later to search. ("...I used to work avalanche rescue. Make a grid!") We posted signs, hoping against hope, and planning to make a claim against our renter's insurance... if it even covers such a thing.

A family, orginally of Barnstable, recently returned to Barnstable by way of New Jersey visits the beach with their granddaughters in tow. "Let's dig a hole!" It's a classic beach activity requiring less skill and fewer specialized tools than sandcastle construction. The ring is unearthed. "Wow!... Wasn't there a beat-up sign posted about a missing ring?" Phones become involved. Verbal descriptions are exchanged. The ring returns to us (future tense), against all odds.

Kate continues the conversation with the crafty super-sleuth ring-returner and, once again, successfully plays the name game. She is friends with his daughter. Can the world be this small? Does she really know everyone? At least I know her. That might be enough.