More than a month later, I was washing dishes one morning while Virginia played behind me. Suddenly, she whipped out James's keys and said "Dada." We were so excited we woke him up to give him the news. Where were his keys for all that time? We had absolutely no idea. Now, at last, we have an idea.
Early last fall, I was really pregnant and my finger swelled to the point that I couldn't wear my wedding ring much. My wedding band is pretty wide and separate from my engagement ring. It was strange, one day they fit fine and the next day I could barely get them on and felt I should immediately take them off to be sure I wasn't stuck. Unfortunately, I then set them down in a place Virginia could reach. She loves my jewelry, but she usually looks at it and puts it right back. This day, however, she picked up my wedding ring and did not put it back. I knew she'd been over there, so I checked for it pretty soon, but the band was gone. I looked around on the floor, in the drawers, everywhere. I have cleaned that section of my room so many times, certain it would turn up eventually. Nothing.
Fast forward seven months. We've been shopping online for a replacement band and discussing James ordering another from the store where we got it when he's back in Lexington next month. I hate spending the money when I know it has to be somewhere in the apartment and will probably turn up when we move. But I also hate not having my wedding ring.
Then, today, we decided to go to our garden. James pulled out his "garden shoes," which he hasn't worn in months. As he put them on, he felt something in the shoe. He turned it over and out fell my ring. I'm glad I didn't make him throw those shoes away last fall.
So, at last my hand is happy again, as is my bank account. And next time Scout hides something, we'll check our shoes.
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