The Case of the Missing Rings

Gram had seen her fair share of life in her 96 years and wanted nothing more than to memorialize it with an all-inclusive scrapbook. She enlisted the help of her grandson, Thibult, in this,as-with age-she’d become tired, and a pesky rat had crawled into her mind, taking bites out of her memory like a piece of cheese. 
Thibult, her grandson, was happy to jump aboard in her attempt to piece her memories back together-as the love of his life and best friend, Maja, had recently gone back to her ex-boyfriend again-so he was looking for a distraction to pretend not to care. Her ex-boyfriend was a filthy animal of a man-like a tiger that needed to be cages around them.
The two sat down together at her nursing home each day that first week working together, after he finished his classes, and she shared as much as she could with him about the expansive life she’d lived. It wasn’t nearly enough for her, though, and Thibult could see the self-frustration this filled her with could make her explode.
Luckily, on the fifth day they worked together, she recalled a trick her and friends came up with when they were younger. As a prominent member of French high society, money was never an issue, and traveling throughout Europe was about as common as a rabbit finding a carrot, so they each invested in a high carat ring with a tracker in it. That way, they would be careful not to leave it behind anywhere, and they would always be in touch.
With this new information at his appliance, Thibult and Gram devised a plan. He would spend his next holiday in Europe, tracking down each of the rings, and collecting whatever information he could get from each of the owners on his grandmother’s life. Gram was elated that her grandson was taking such an interest, so she offered to fund the trip for him and a friend. He invited Maja-who enthusiastically accepted.

Had anyone warned Thibult that when their vacation would come the following summer that Maja would still be with her ex, he wouldn’t have believed them. The two were always breaking up and getting back together, and it was with great displeasure that he watched how long the relationship seemed to last this time around. On their 10-hour plane ride together, she brought up that she was thinking about moving in with him. 

“I think that’s an awful idea,” He told her, bluntly. She ordered a Bloody Mary, and he got one, too. They had already had several drinks at the airport, but Gram had given him her credit card and made him promise to have a good time with it, so he didn’t want to disappoint.

“But I love him…” There was something off in the way her words expanded as they trailed off-or, maybe, it was in her eyes.

“But do you like him?” She laughed. “I’m serious. I see the way you two interact. It’s like you’re in the business of being together, but you don’t actually enjoy each other.” The flight attendant handed them their drinks, her eyes widened, then hurried on to the next row. “I mean…do you?”

“Enjoy his company?” Her smile glistened against her tanned skin. “Yeah, I don’t dislike him. No couple is perfect enough to like each other all the time.”

He grabbed her hand on her arm rest. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for them to hold hands. They did when they went to the movies together, ever since a particularly dicey conversation once about who got the armrest in the middle. This time, though, it felt different, and they both noticed it. “I always enjoy being with you. I couldn’t imagine ever not.”

She giggled, through her straw. “You know I always enjoy yours, too. It’s different with you. There’s less pressure. It’s less serious.” 

He looked into her eyes and gulped down only air before letting the words he’d been holding back with the dam he’d turned his mouth into around her so long ago. “Does love have to be serious? I love you, Maja. I have for a long time, and I think I always will. He’s all wrong for you, and you know it. That’s why you always leave him, and don’t like being with him. You won’t be alone if you leave him. If I can help it, you won’t ever be alone again.”

She started whimpering, and gripped his hand tight. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that, Thibult. I’d given up on us, though. Why did you wait so long? How am I supposed to believe this is real for you, when you only bring it up after I tell you how serious I am about him, drunk, and on our way to Europe together? How do I know you’re not just trying to get me to break up with him so we can mess around while we’re there, like we do when I’m not with him.”

Thibult let go of her hand and reached into his pocket. In it, was a ring. He placed it in her palm where his hand had been, then looked out the window at the clouds next to them. “This was my Gram’s. She gave it to me when I invited you. She’s always loved you.”

She grabbed his face and turned it back to hers, pulling his towards her. When they collided, it felt like the plane was suspended, and the earth, too. Next to them, the couple began to cheer, and the surrounding chairs followed their lead. A little girl sat up on her knees and turned around for a better view in the row ahead of them.

“You still have to say yes!” She advised her. 

Maja laughed through her tears. “Yes!”

After landing, she called the boyfriend. He didn’t pick up, so despite her knowing it was wrong, she left it in a message. The two spent the next month tracking down the rings-she now had one to match-for Gram.