Chapter Text
The evening was perfect. Jane Rizzoli had done everything to ensure it would be.
On their first day off after an especially stressful case that was equal parts physically and emotionally demanding, Jane decided to surprise Maura with an opulent date night (Maura’s words, not hers). Jane purchased tickets to the Boston Symphony, booked a table at some fancy French restaurant that she didn’t even bother trying to pronounce the name of, and stuffed herself into that tailored pantsuit Maura had customed ordered for Jane a few months after they started dating. Jane had to admit the suit was a comfortable alternative to the dresses her mother always insisted she be crammed into, and Jane would wear anything that elicited that hungry look from Maura.
Jane arranged all the pieces to construct the perfect evening for Maura, and based on Maura’s reaction when she unveiled the evening’s plans, tailored suit and all, Jane had succeeded. Moments after laying out Jane’s schedule for the night, their lips connected in a fierce kiss that rivaled the passion of their first, and every, kiss they shared.
The first stop was Restaurant Richelieu, an institution among the Back Bay’s illustrious dining establishments. After checking in with the maître d', Jane, wanting to play the savant, held out her arm, which Maura took eagerly, then led her girlfriend to the table. While the restaurant’s atmosphere screamed award-winning chic and the patrons wafted with the stench of entitlement, nothing was more valuable, nor precious, than the beautiful woman on Jane’s arm. Her heart swelled with pride and her mind reeled, unable to comprehend how a woman so perfect, could possibly ever want to be with Jane. Almost as if Maura could read her thoughts, Maura gave a soft squeeze to her arm. Before they sat down, Maura stood on her toes, still a few inches shorter than Jane despite her ridiculously tall (and expensive) Louboutin pumps, to press a chaste kiss to Jane’s cheek, conveying every ounce of love Maura harbored for her. Nothing could stop the full force of Jane’s smile, as she pulled Maura’s chair from the table. Maura knew how to combat every last one of Jane’s deeply rooted insecurities and replace them with feelings of love, belonging, and devotion. Jane just hoped that she too could convey every last bit of the love and devotion Jane felt towards Maura.
The meal itself was incredible, albeit grossly overpriced, and soon, it was time to escort Maura to Symphony Hall. When Jane first became friendly with Maura, the ME was aghast that Jane never took advantage of the talented orchestra practically situated in her backyard. Jane had laughed, because did she really look like someone who frequented the symphony and had told Maura so in a self-deprecating comment. Maura found no humor in it and booked Jane and her tickets for the Boston Symphony Orchestra’s upcoming performance. Jane was appreciative of the kind gesture, apparently the seats Maura selected were the best in the hall, but she had fully intended to politely decline the invitation. However, once Maura had started to regale Jane with the intricate and technical details of the acoustical engineering of Symphony Hall, her hazel eyes ablaze with passion, Jane couldn’t find the words to refuse Maura. It had been one of their first outings together, certainly their most formal one yet, and while Jane didn’t personally enjoy classical music, watching Maura utterly melt beside her, engrossed and captivated by the lilting sounds, Jane embraced an almost nostalgic appreciation for this type of music.
Jane had no familiarity with the pieces the symphony was performing that night, but Maura’s enthusiasm was enough for the both of them, as Jane pulled Maura to the center of the auditorium, placing her in the exact seats she had once explained to Jane were the most optimal to listen to the BSO. Maura once again looked at Jane as if nothing else mattered in the world, and Jane could have collapsed right there and died a content and fulfilled woman.
Soon, the orchestra came out, accompanied by the conductor and the concert began. To her surprise, Jane wasn’t completely bored out of her mind during the concert. However, it did help that Maura slipped herself into a tight, yet regal, black dress accompanied by those 4-inch heels that oozed a powerful sexiness. Jane barely even noticed the symphony performing before her, how could anyone if the most beautiful woman on the planet was sitting beside them? Jane’s eyes seldom left Maura as she watched her girlfriend indulge in the sweeping tones and enchanting melodies.
After the concert, Jane refused to let the evening end. Instead of walking Maura to the parking garage Jane had left her unmarked in hours ago, Jane placed a firm hand on the small of Maura’s back and led her to the reflecting pool in between Symphony Hall and the Prudential Center. It was late, the sun had long receded from the sky, encasing Boston in an inky darkness combated by the brilliant city lights. The sight was made all the more beautiful as the lights reflected across the calm waters of the pool, perfectly mirroring Boston’s recognizable skyline. Jane took a moment to stare at the image, finding courage amid the sights of a city so familiar to Jane. It was a rare occurrence when she had an opportunity to pause and appreciate the city’s grandiosity, reminding Jane that while Boston was her home, there was always some magical quality that blanketed the city. Jane turned to look at Maura and was positively struck by how radiant and gorgeous Maura was. The lights reflected off of Maura’s dirty blonde hair, illuminating Maura’s face in a way that made Jane’s heart just stop. She gripped Maura’s fingers with an intensity as a thought struck Jane. Nothing, nothing, in this world made Jane more at peace than Maura. Boston was only her home now because Maura existed here, and Jane realized she would implode in on herself if Maura didn’t hear this right now.
“Maura,” Jane said, her voice more husky than usual, thick with her love and revelations, prepared to make sure Maura, knew, understood, that Jane was utterly in love with her. And she was doing everything she could to show her.
Maura turned, her attention fully focused on Jane, her delicate facial features still caressed by that brilliant city light translated through the reflection of the still water.
“Maura,” Jane whispered again, bringing a hand up to tuck a lock of blonde hair away from Maura’s face, allowing her knuckles to brazenly swipe against Maura’s cheek.
“Yes, Jane?” Maura’s voice was also low, teeming with anticipation.
Jane’s hand then cupped Maura’s cheek. She needed to rely on the grounding comfort that Maura always provided her in order to gain the courage to speak her next words.
“Maura, I…I love you.” Jane was encouraged to continue with the beaming, hopeful look on Maura’s face, her beauty accentuated by the reflected lights, “I love you more than anything in this world.” Jane’s hands slipped from Maura’s cheeks, running her fingers down Maura’s arms to grasp both her hands in her own.
“There was a long time Maura, before I met you, hell, even after I met you, that I thought of myself as unlovable. For years men came and went in my life with nothing more than a wave. No matter what I did, they never stuck around, so by the time I became detective, I started to act like I didn’t care about any of it; I told myself I didn’t need anyone, that I was better off, but I couldn’t help but beat myself up askin’ myself ‘what the hell was wrong with me?’ Then Hoyt happened, the first time.”
“Jane,” Maura barely whispered, tears threatening to streak down her face and ruin her impeccable makeup.
“Baby, it’s ok, I want you to hear this.” Jane’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, her fingers in a white-knuckle clasp between Maura’s, “I was so broken, Maura. I couldn’t admit this back then, but I was damaged. Literally.” She gestured to her scars, but Maura brought the inside of Jane’s palms to her lips and kissed them. Jane’s body shuttered as she took a deep breath, “nothing could save me back then, I pushed everyone away, tried to convince everyone I was fine. Now, I knew I was unlovable, and I was just savin’ everyone from me, you know?”
“Jane, sweetheart.” A silent tear slipped down Maura’s round cheek. She pressed another soft kiss to Jane’s scars.
“But you, you burst into my life, so confident, so smart, and just so feminine in your fancy little blueberry jackets.”
Maura’s brows crinkled in confusion, “are you trying to say Burberry?”
Jane grinned, “You know this would go a lot faster if you didn’t stop and correct me.”
Maura made a sound like a giggle then sniffled, trying (and failing) to hold back tears, “Please, continue.”
“When you came into my life, I didn’t know what to do. Maybe I was intimidated by you, maybe a little jealous of you, but you showed me a friendship unlike any other. You were patient with me, honest with me, kind to me, when I had just about shut the world out. You saved me Maura; how could I not fall in love with you?”
Maura’s breath hitched as Jane leaned in to press her lips to Maura, engaging the two in a deep kiss that Jane hoped was demonstrating all the emotions her words hadn’t conveyed.
And if Jane had the ring, this would be the exact moment that she would take it out of her pocket, and offered it, along with the rest of her exposed heart to Maura. And ask her the question that had been ruminating in Jane’s head since she shot that bullet straight through her gut.
But she didn’t. She didn’t have the ring, due to so much bullshit out of her control, so she was left with nothing else to do than give Maura another kiss on her perfect lips and guide her back to the parking garage. Ever the astute detective, Jane could read every emotion on Maura’s face. Her sheer look of disappointment, barely concealed behind glassy eyes, broke Jane in two. The pain she felt rivaled that of the bodily injuries that left deep and visible scars on her tan skin.
The evening had been perfect. If only Jane had the ring.
If only she had the fucking ring.
Jane had gawked when she first saw it. No, gawked was an understatement. When she first laid eyes on it, her jaw had dropped to the floor, waiting for the custodian to sweep it up, and Jane was rendered speechless. It had been one of those days before they were dating, where Jane hadn’t been so much as volunteered to accompany Maura on an outing to Newbury Street as much as she was voluntold by the eager blonde. Maura dragged Jane from shop to shop, as the detective complained at every opportunity, despite reveling in the comfortable presence Maura always offered her in those early days. It was customary in their relationship after all, where Maura would suggest something totally outrageous and unappealing to Jane and Jane would refuse. Then Maura’s face would produce the most persuasive pout, one that could convince Jane to commit murder if it meant it would put a smile on Maura’s face, and Jane would submit to any and all of Maura’s whims. Even if that meant she would assume the role of shopping sherpa as Maura conquered every store on Newbury Street. Jane’s protests, often in the form of petulant remarks, were only vocalized to build the façade of disinterest, and to illicit that insides-melting giggle out of Maura.
One of their final stops that day had been to an unassuming, yet charming little jewelry shop. Jane distinctly remembered that the sign in the door said “closed,” but Maura confidently pushed through the entranceway with all the same swagger Jane displayed at a crime scene. The owner didn’t seem to mind, as he seemed elated to see Maura, eagerly kissing her cheek and showcasing his newest stock.
Jane stood off to the side, Maura’s shopping bags draped in each arm. Jewelry had never caught her interest, and she had been grateful for a moment to catch her breath while Maura was engaged with the owner. That is until Maura came bounding up to her only minutes later with a crushed velvet jewelry box that looked like it cost the equivalent of a semester at BCU on its own. When Maura opened the box, Jane just about choked on her own spit.
There, encased in all that crushed velvet and opulence laid the most stunning, albeit grandiose, ring Jane had ever seen. A thick gold band led into an intricate pear-cut emerald, embellished with no less than six diamonds. Jane didn’t know the exact number, she stopped counting after six. The emerald was massive, glittering under the store lights. It had to be at least four karats. Jane knew nothing about karats, or jewelry, or precious stones. Hell, she didn’t even know what karats measured exactly, but that emerald had to at least be four. No, five karats. That was her final guess.
And when Jane finally closed her gaping mouth and tore her eyes from the ring, there was Maura holding it proudly, the sparkle from the emerald dazzling with her own hazel eyes. Even before Jane knew she was utterly in love with Maura, she recognized how beautiful she was, especially when paired with that gorgeous ring.
“When I get proposed to, this will be the ring that accompanies it.” Maura had said, with all the poised humility that were staple in blunt statements like these from Maura.
Jane couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled from deep in her throat, “Don’t you have to have a boyfriend before you start itemizing your proposal?” It had meant to come across as a jest, but Maura had interpreted the comment literally.
Maura’s brows furrowed, “Social and romantic customs would dictate so, yes. But, I adore this ring too much.”
Maura beamed at the ring again before snapping the lid closed on the ring box and returning it to the store owner.
Jane was no psychic, she possessed no ability to see into her future, therefore she had no reason to believe that she would ever be the one lining up to propose to Maura and that out of all of Maura’s various potential suitors, Jane would be Maura’s first choice. Therefore, Jane had no reason to remember that jewelry store, that ring, and the way the green flecks in Maura’s eyes reflected perfectly in the deep hue of the emerald. But she did. And just a week into officially dating, Jane knew what she needed to do, Maura had practically given her explicit instructions. She was going to get that fucking ring for Maura because Maura deserved nothing but everything she asked for.
But Jane wasn’t an idiot. Jane was well aware of Maura’s lavish tastes and the ritzy price tags they carried. So, a week into their relationship, Jane went to the bank, drained her savings account, and marched right into that jewelry store.
And within five seconds of speaking with the shop clerk, Jane realized just how out of her league she was here.
In fact, it wasn’t until that moment that Jane fully understood the saying, if you have to ask for the price, you can’t afford it. Yeah, they weren’t fucking kidding. The price was… a lot. No, that was a ridiculous understatement. The price was absurd, the metaphorical weight of the amount of zeros attached to it nearly knocking Jane on her ass. But Jane Rizzoli wasn’t deterred that easily, and she certainly wasn’t a quitter. Especially when it came to the best thing to ever happen to her.
So, a week into their relationship, Jane made a promise to herself: she would not propose to Maura until she had enough money saved to purchase Maura’s dream ring. Jane was going to get that fucking money, or she was going to die trying.
Entering the jewelry shop with her confused brother, who very mercifully had remained quiet through the car ride here, Jane expected to see that ring in its customary spot in the center display cabinet. Within seconds, the ever-perceptive detective realized that it was missing. She frantically moved from cabinet to cabinet, searching for the one reason she had brought Frankie here in the first place. But it was nowhere to be seen.
Frankie stood, motionless and concerned in the middle of the small store, watching his sister move from glass case to glass case. “Uhhh, what are we doing here Janie?” It was the first words he had spoken since his sister had practically thrown him into the passenger seat of her unmarked.
“You’ll see,” Jane responded, not bothering to tear her eyes away from her detailed inspection of the display case.
Despite the near-explosive confrontation Frankie and Jane had back at headquarters, Frankie decided to push the issue, “Uh, this is a jewelry shop, Jane.” Frankie gestured loosely to the interior of the store.
“Wow, with those kinds of skills, you’ll make detective in no time,” Jane snapped at him.
Frankie took Jane’s snide comment in stride. He had literally been doing it since the day he was born. Still, he sighed, unwilling to relent.
“This whole thing’s got you really on edge, huh?”
Jane’s eyes locked on Frankie and narrowed, “Keep a girlfriend around longer than five months, and then come talk to me about how I’m on edge.”
Strong arms crossed against Frankie’s chest, straining the dark fabric of his uniform, “ok, I don’t know when I was elected to be Jane’s punching bag, but I’m not puttin’ up with it no more.”
Jane snarled but did not respond to Frankie. After a few more moments of awkward silence, Frankie finally asked the question that had been on his mind since the two walked into the store.
“So…We’re not here to buy a ring are we?”
“Not exactly” she mumbled, still peering into each and every display cabinet.
“Great that clears up everything.”
Jane whipped her head around ready to rip her brother a new asshole when the siblings were interrupted.
A man emerged from a door leading to what Jane knew was the backroom of the store.
“Welcome to Thistl-” the man’s voice suddenly cut off as recognition flooded the man’s expression, wiping the practiced smile completely from his face. He smoothed over the wrinkles in his tweed blazer, running his flat palms down his sides, “Ah, Detective Rizzoli,” a haughtiness laced his words, “and here I thought I would be greeting a paying customer.” When the man slightly emphasized the word “paying,” Jane’s face twisted into a sneer.
She instantly recognized him as the store owner, Gerald Hawkins, a man Jane had no love for. Tall, poised, and oh-so elitist, Gerald was the kind of man whose old age made him look distinguished. Cropped white hair, and piercing gray eyes, contrasted perfectly with a tailored suit and his obnoxiously large yellow glasses. He always had one eyebrow raised while he silently judged the world around him. Sensitive to wealth, and people who thought that wealth made them better, more important, above the law, Jane instantly disliked Gerald on that first visit to Thistlewood, and her opinion of him only lowered from there.
She practically charged at him from her position at the far side of the store, “Where the hell’s my ring, Gerald?”
Gerald balked at the detective, actually bringing a hand to grasp at his chest, just as if he were clutching a string of pearls, “What a rather presumptuous thing for you to say, detective. I seem to recall, the last time we spoke, that you did not possess the purchasing power to lay claim to my ring.”
“I swear to God, if you sold it out from under me I will-“
Gerald rolled his eyes, as he was so used to doing in the presence of Jane, “Relax Detective, I brought it in the back to be cleaned.” He sucked in a breath before saying, “it collects so much dust laying sedentary on my display shelf.”
“If you would just sell it to me for a reasonable price, then you wouldn’t have this issue now, would you?”
“If I sold you the ring then what kind of message would I be sending the community about bullying and harassment.”
“Are you this charming with all your customers?” Jane took an aggressive step toward Gerald.
“Only ones as onerous as you Detective Rizzoli.”
The petulant argument was broken by a wide-eyed and bewildered Frankie clearing his throat.
Gerald’s gaze then focused on Frankie, more accurately Frankie’s uniform, and his lips turned into a scowl. His voice dropped that haughty smirk and adopted an even harsher edge, “Oh goodness you brought another officer. Are you here to finally arrest me for, what was it you accused me of?” Gerald paused and tapped a finger to his bottom lip, “Oh yes, I recall now, exploitative business practices?”
Teeth exposed themselves from behind Jane’s curled lip, not unlike the way a wolf bears its fangs, “No, this is my brother, who just happens to be a cop.”
“Oh good lord, there are more of you Rizzolis?” Gerald asked in an incredulous tone.
For the first time since Gerald emerged from the back room, Frankie spoke, “Wow, if that’s your reaction to meeting me, then you are really going to hate our younger brother.” The look Gerald gave Frankie was fraught with horror.
“Why did you bring your brother to my establishment, detective?” a grey eyebrow shot up, “does he also have unreasonable expectations about purchasing an engagement ring?”
Jane rested her elbow on the main display counter so she could lean across from Gerald, “No.” she turned her head to look at Frankie and after registering his obvious confusion at the store, Gerald, and the whole situation, Jane then added, “he had some doubts about my intentions, wanted to bring him here to clear those up.”
Gerald tilted his head towards Jane, refusing to be intimated, “Right because you give the impression that your intentions would never be corrupt.”
Narrowing her eyes, Jane said, “Just get me my ring, Gerald.”
The shop owner held Jane’s intense gaze for a moment, clicked his tongue, then turned on his heels to enter the back room. Jane stood up straight, silently celebrating that interaction as a victory.
“Janie, what the hell is going on?” Frankie said in a frantic whisper, taking three long strides to stand beside his sister, “Since when do you have beef with a jewelry shop owner?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Jane’s gaze never left the door Gerald retreated through seconds ago.
Frankie shook his head, “of course, I’m going to worry about it! Why did you bring me here if you don’t want me to worry about it?”
“To shut you up about this whole cold feet nonsense, which clearly isn’t working.”
Frankie looked around the store, hopelessly confused, as if someone would emerge from the glass cabinets and rationally explain everything he had witnessed over the past few minutes. Besides the day that Frankie’s new girlfriend ended up being Hoyt’s apprentice, this was perhaps one of the strangest days of Frankie’s life. This will teach him for snooping in other people’s business. How did his mother gain so much joy from involving herself in other’s lives? Just after one day, Frankie was ready to swear off nosiness for the rest of his life. Please God don’t let Jane beat up the old shopkeeper, and I promise never to stick my nose in anyone’s issues again.
Gerald returned, angrily shoving the hard maple door to the side, and unceremoniously placed a ring box in front of Jane.
Gerald wagged his finger at Jane before saying, “Apparently this bears repeating, but that ring is not yours until I receive the payment in full.”
Jane brushed Gerald off with a dismissive wave of her hand, “Yeah, yeah.” She opened the box, and to Frankie’s surprise, Jane smiled.
"Frankie, c’mere,” Jane jerked her head towards the ring box and stepped to the side so that her brother had an unobscured view of the ring. “Still think I’m scared to commit to Maura? That I have cold feet?”
Frankie leaned in, and when his eyes locked on the ring, he audibly gasped, as if all the wind had been knocked out of his lungs. He grasped Jane’s hand and dragged her to the other side of the store, despite it being completely empty.
“Janie,” Frankie sounded exasperated, “how much is that?” Familiar with his sister and her usual antics, he added, “And don’t bullshit me.”
Jane’s response was quiet, barely audible to even her own ears. Her meekness in this moment was jarringly uncharacteristic.
“Huh? What was that?” Frankie pressed, his temper once again simmering.
“320,00 dollars.”
“Fuck!” Frankie exclaimed. Jane’s hand came up to slap the back of her brother’s head.
“Watch your language in here, yeah?” Jane stole a glance at Gerald, who looked completely disinterested in their conversation, mindlessly rearranging one of the display cabinets.
“Janie, that’s as much as a fu-friggin’ house!” Frankie had lowered his voice, but his shock was still apparent.
Despite the seriousness of their conversation, Jane shot Frankie an incredulous look. Frankie corrected his statement with an eye-roll, “right, fine, in Boston, that’s a Condo payment. But still, Janie, that’s a fuck ton of money!” The outrageous number Jane told him pinged around his mind causing his responses to be strained and loud. It was a stark dichotomy to the expensive tranquility of the jewelry shop.
“Where the hell are you gonna get that kind of money? I know how much you make.”
Jane’s facial features remained purposefully elusive, “I’ve been savin’ up.”
“Can’t you just ask Maura for the money?”
“Seriously Frankie? I’m not going to make Maura pay for her own engagement ring.”
Frankie shrugged, “you let her pay for everything else.”
Jane responded by giving Frankie a little less than a playful shove, one that conveyed that he had crossed a line.
“So what, you’ve been savin’ up. Surely you don’t have 300 grand lying around unless you’ve gone dirty.”
Jane’s frustration with her brother was swiftly turning into irritation. Though she supposed, she had to put herself in his shoes. She would just about lose her mind if she found out that Frankie was saving to buy some girl an exorbitantly priced ring. But Maura wasn’t some girl. She was the most important person in Jane’s life, her whole world, and she deserved nothing but the absolute best, regardless of whether Jane could realistically afford it or not.
“I’ve been takin’ extra shifts too.”
“Ok, so how much you got?” Frankie’s voice dropped to an even lower volume.
“Just over 75k.”
Frankie blinked slowly, not quite processing this information, “And how long have you been saving for?”
Jane ran a shaking hand through her tangled black locks, “Uh, since two weeks after we started dating.”
“Jesus,” Frankie muttered, “at this rate, your retirement party will double for your engagement party.”
“I’m tryin’ my best here, alright?!”
“Can’t you try and talk him down?” Frankie asked.
Jane shook her head, “I already did. I got him down from 350.”
“Holy shit, Janie, that’s so much money.” His eyes came down to rest on her badge. Frankie pursed his lips, “You try flashing’ your badge?”
Jane was about to respond when a voice rang out from the other side of the store. The two swiveled in place to face Gerald, standing, rather haughtily behind the counter.
“I hope you’re not suggesting Detective Rizzoli here to intimidate me into lowering the price.” Jane had assumed wrong, Gerald had been listening intently and probably heard every word exchanged between the siblings. “Because Officer Rizzoli, she already has. How do you think she got me to grant her a 30,000-dollar discount in the first place?”
Gerald came around the front side of the display case, “I appreciate your interest in this piece, it truly is exquisite.” He admired the piece of jewelry in the velvet case before continuing, “But I am trying to pr-“
“Promote an honest business, yeah yeah.” Jane finished for him, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. Gerald repeated that exact sentence to her every time she came to check on the ring, making sure he didn’t sell it out from under her. Gerald returned to his menial tasks as if he had never interrupted the siblings in the first place.
“I wanna see that guy behind bars so bad,” Jane whispered to herself under her breath.
Frankie ignored the comment, “Jane, seriously, you can’t afford that ring.”
Frankie’s aggravation fueled Jane’s own, “You think I don’t know that?”
In frustration, Frankie pinched the bridge of his nose. A sigh broke from deep in his throat. Never one to be outmatched, especially by her own brother, Jane’s hands came to grip her belt, a classic act of defense for the brunette. Frankie’s eyes were shut, so he didn’t see how dangerously close, Jane’s fingers were to her gun.
“Ok, ok,” Frankie held out a placating hand, trying to temper the growing anger between the two Rizzolis. The last thing they needed to be doing was causing a scene in one of Boston’s most expensive and illustrious jewelry stores. They had already done that today outside of BPD’s third-floor bathrooms. “Let’s calm down before Gerald over there kicks us out.” He jerked a thumb in the general direction of the counter.
“Gerald wouldn’t dare.”
Ignoring his sister, Frankie tried to formulate a question calmly, however, all that came out was, “So what is-why-what?”
Frankie’s brain was still in a tailspin at the information Jane had shared with him.
“Are you having a stroke?” Jane asked, not a hint of concern in her words.
“I think I earned the right to have a stroke after what you just told me.” Frankie took a deep breath and attempted his question again. This time, it came was far more coherent, “Why do you-What’s so special about that ring?”
“It’s the one Maura wants.” Jane’s fingers gripped at her belt tighter.
Frankie did not look convinced, “Really, Maura came in here and specifically requested that yacht of a ring when you asked her what she wanted?”
Jane kept up the façade, not willing to have this conversation with her brother of all people. When she forced Frankie to come to the shop, she hoped seeing the elaborate ring would quell Frankie’s worries that Jane had any reservations about marrying Maura, and that would be that. Now, she was realizing that this had been a horrendous idea, and she should have just let Frankie think she was hesitant to marry Maura. All that really mattered was that Maura still had faith in her. Jane should have never put herself in a position to be integrated by Frankie.
“Not exactly.”
Frankie’s disbelief flared, his eyes blazing, “then explain to me why you are planning to spend a goddamn college degree on a ring your girlfriend doesn’t even want?”
Jane sighed, defeated. She should have known that Frankie wasn’t going to accept these vague answers, especially with that kind of money on the line.
“Maura wants this ring, I know Maura wants this ring.”
“Then why-“
“She showed it to me way before we started dating,” Jane didn’t let Frankie ask his obvious question, “dragged me in here one day and exclaimed that that was the ring she wanted to be proposed to with.”
Frankie stole another glance towards the ring, “But she couldn’t have been serious. I mean, she knows you can’t afford that.”
Suddenly, a vengeful anger overtook Jane, “It doesn’t fucking matter. I’m not proposing to her without that ring.”
It took all of Frankie’s practiced self-control, as he always prided himself on being the most levelheaded of the Rizzoli family, not to scream at his sister. Instead, he took a deep breath, allowing the motion to tamper his initial response releasing his pent-up aggression, “Janie, she might be fancy and all, but you know she doesn’t care about all that. She just wants you.”
“That doesn’t matter. As her girlfriend and potential wife, I should be able to give her anything she wants… And… and I can’t.”
Frankie sighed, now understanding the root of Jane’s determination to make a horrible financial decision. Suddenly his voice was imbued with sober tenderness, “Janie, we’re two kids from Revere. They usually don’t even let us into a store like this. We’re blue-collar through and through and we got the accents and the propensity towards cheap beer to prove it.”
“Are you sayin’ I can’t provide for her?” Jane shot back, her voice rising with anger.
“No, I’m not sayin’ that, Janie, of course you can. But Maura, well, you know, Maura’s family is in a different tax bracket. You can’t expect to afford Maura’s lifestyle.”
The blunt truth was devastating. The illusion that she could afford this ring for Maura, shattered into shards of glass, slicing Jane’s heart. She had been running from this reality for two and a half years, since she met Maura, honestly. She was a poor kid, from a poor neighborhood in a poor city on the North Shore. And Maura… Well, Maura was a wealthy kid, from a wealthy family with so much money they had multiple charities in their name. While Jane’s father worked yet another late-night job, barely scrapping enough money to put a meal on the table for their family of five, Maura was already intimately familiar with the exotic taste of beluga caviar which Maura had informed her in passing was worth 200 dollars an ounce. Jane always knew they came from polar opposite worlds (it had made her angry and embarrassed in the early days of their friendship before Jane realized Maura wasn’t an elitist snob) but their connection despite their wealth inequities had always been special because of their disparate backgrounds. They still desperately cared for, respected, and loved each other even if Maura was never acquainted with the taste of government cheese, or Jane never summered on the Amalfi Coast.
But what if Maura decided she wanted a partner more familiar with the intricate details of owning wealth, and of course, spending said wealth? What if Maura finally realized she deserved a more refined spouse, one that wasn’t an embarrassment and could buy her an island on a whim if Maura so desired? What if Maura changed her mind, and she wanted the prestige of a family name, a Boston Brahmin after all?
What if Maura suddenly woke up one day and realized Jane wasn’t enough?
And maybe that’s what terrified her most. Maybe this is what fueled Jane’s unrelenting obsession to buy that ring. She needed to prove to Maura, and herself, that she was enough for Maura’s posh upbringing. That she belonged with Maura even though she came from the highest echelons of society. She would never learn French, or attend a fencing class, or know the difference between an escargot or lobster fork, or anything else that would prove her worthiness to Maura. But she would scrounge up enough money to buy that ring, her last, and only, chance to convince Maura that she could compete with her former suitors. Or she would die trying.
Jane turned to her brother, with no desire to further argue with him. In a firm tone, she said, “I don’t care if it takes me until I’m eighty. Maura wants that ring, so I’m getting her that ring.” There was no room for compromise in that statement, Jane’s stubbornness was on full display.
Maybe it was the weirdness of the day, maybe it was the empathy he felt for Maura, maybe it was all the frustration towards his sister, threatening to burst from his skin. Whatever the reason, Frankie had no time to bite his tongue before his next words slipped from his mouth.
“You might not have that kind of time, Janie!”
Jane’s eyes narrowed, “What the hell are you talking about?”Frankie slapped his hand over his mouth, realizing the metaphorical bomb he just dropped. Oh fuck, Frost is going to filet him alive. Frankie did his best to salvage his mistake, “I didn’t say nothing.”
It was too late, Jane was too perceptive and too good of a detective to let Frankie’s words now go ignored, “Oh no, Frankie, what the hell do you mean, ‘I don’t have that kind of time?’”
Frankie shook his head, then waggled his finger, “Nope, I’ve already gotten in enough shit today.”
Jane gripped Frankie’s forearm. It was too tight of a squeeze to be interpreted as a kind gesture. “Frankie, please, just tell me what the fuck you mean.”
“I thought we weren’t supposed to swear in here.”
"Frankie, if you don’t tell me right now, I swear to God.”
Frankie’s head drooped in defeat, “Fine, fine. But please just listen until I’m finished before you freak out. The reason me, Frost, and Korsak were up your ass today about Maura is…” Frankie paused, hoping to draw out his eventual fate for as long as possible, “well, apparently Frost caught Maura crying in the morgue.” Jane’s eyes went wide at that information, a passion behind them fueled by rage and concern. Frankie was hesitant to mutter the next part, “She was afraid you didn’t want to commit to her or somethin’.”
Frankie could handle an angry Jane, hell, he could even handle an irate Jane, but he had no idea what to do with the silent, emotionless one that stood before him. Doing damage control was the best he could come up with at the moment.
“Now before you start yellin’ I just wanna say I was not there and-“
His sister clearly wasn’t listening. Instead, she wordless dropped his hand unceremoniously and walked directly to Gerald, who was still puttering around behind the counter.
Frankie followed Jane, watching as she closed her eyes, her chest heaving with a few deep breaths. Finally, she spoke.
“Gerald, I got 75K. What is the closest ring to that,” she pointed to the glittering gold and emerald sitting neglected on the countertop, “that I can walk out of here today with that you got.” She put her hands on her hips before adding gruffly, “And don’t rip me off.”
Gerald stretched to his full height, offered Jane a smug smile, and then said politely, “I am sure we can find something to your liking, detective, however, I do offer custom designs.”
Jane rolled her eyes, very unappreciative of Gerald’s need to rub salt in her wounds, “If I can’t afford that ring, then there’s no way I can afford a Gerald Hawkins original.” Jane stated the last three words in her patronizing, fabricated, posh accent.
Gerald didn’t even flinch, “Oh no, many of my custom orders are cheaper than the luxury designs I source. I could start with a smaller gold band, a singular pear-shaped emerald, less karats of course. We could add two additional diamonds on the side too if the inclusion of diamonds is important to you.”
Jane nodded her head, trying to visualize what Gerald was suggesting, “Yeah that all sounds great, but how much would that cost?”
There was an unreadable glint in Gerald’s eye. “For you Detective Rizzoli, I could do it for 27.”
“27,000?” Both Frankie and Jane asked at the same time.
Gerald confirmed, “Yes, 27,000. That is a significant discount, but well worth it if it finally rids my shop of Detective Jane Rizzoli.”
Jane’s knees buckled but Frankie and his fast reflexes caught her before she stumbled to the ground.
“That’s a lot of money man,” Frankie said, attention trained on his sister as he stabilized her.
Gerald’s eyebrow shot upwards, further wrinkling his forehead, “Keep in mind your sister was prepared to pay nearly decuple that price.”
Before Frankie could ask what the hell “decuple” meant, Jane found her voice.
“Yeah, yes, I’ll do that.”
This answer only worried Frankie, “Janie, are you sure?”
“Maura is everything to me Frankie, I don’t want to lose her, but I can’t afford what she wants. This is the next best thing.” Jane turned to Gerald; all of the confidence of Detective Rizzoli was restored in Jane’s posture. “Make me a ring Gerald.”
Gerald ducked down to retrieve a slip of paper from behind the counter and a pen, “I never thought I would say this to you, Detective Rizzoli, in my life but, your wish is my command.” He began to scratch notes onto the slip, “Please grant me a moment to draft up the design, but I would say I could have something as simple as this done by tomorrow.”
Jane’s ears were ringing. After two and a half years of this bitter back and forth with Gerald, the once-a-month checkups on that ring, eating ramen noodles, and taking shitty overtime assignments behind Maura’s back, Jane was finally going to be able to propose to Maura.
“And I never thought I would be sayin’ this to you, Gerald, but thank you.”
Gerald smiled, but his eyes remained glued to the design that was now forming before him with each new stroke of his pen, “you might not know this detective, but Maura means quite a deal to me. I’ve known her since she was a little girl. And while I am not entirely found of you-“
“What gave it away?” Jane’s sarcastic comment cut Gerald off. But weirdly instead of the usual animosity that was shared between the two, both Gerald and Jane exchanged a smirk.
“Yes, my feelings were rather obvious, but I can still see that you are good for Maura. I’ve never been introduced to someone more tenacious than you Detective Rizzoli, and I know that you will do anything to fiercely protect and care for Maura.” With a final slash of his pen, Gerald looked up and brightly smiled. He turned the paper around and pushed it towards Jane with a swoosh, “Is this satisfactory detective?”
Jane took a moment to review the design, pleased with how it resembled the original ring. Off to the side, there were details about the materials used, the itemized cost, and the final price of the custom ring. Jane took note that there was a blank line that was reserved for any unconventional materials that might be added to the finished piece.
“Wow, yeah, that looks good.”
“Splendid,” Gerald offered his fountain pen to Jane, “if you could just sign on the dotted line here, then I can collect your payment information to formally commence the process.”
Jane grabbed the pen and located the indicated space for her signature.
The pen hovered above the dotted line, hesitating to connect the ink and paper.
“I sense a trepidation, detective,” Gerald said after a few silent moments.
“Jane,” Frankie prompted, “why are you holding back?”
“If I sign this,” Jane paused and swallowed, “then I admitted I failed. I failed to give Maura exactly what she deserved. I failed as her provider.”
Frankie placed a comforting hand on Jane’s shoulder, “No, if you sign this then you’re giving the woman you love a beautiful and expensive ring. That doesn’t sound like failure to me.”
“But better partners could have given her the other ring,” Jane lamented.
“So that’s what this is about,” Realization bloomed on Frankie’s face. “Janie, this isn’t a competition, you already won.”
His sister didn’t look convinced, so Frankie tried again, “Janie, she chose you. She sent all those other men packing, and she chose you. She wants you.”
“Officer Rizzoli is right,” Gerald added, “take it from an old professional who has been in the business a long time. The ring I will make you will be spectacular, and it will be one of a kind, labored from the heart.” Gerald softly patted his chest.
For once in Jane’s life, she didn’t dig her heels into the floor and stubbornly refuse. She listened to the two men surrounding her, two wildly different individuals each offering the same piece of advice: stop being obeisant and go propose to the woman you love. Tomorrow, she could show the world that Maura was hers and only hers, something she had been waiting to do for two and a half years. Relief suddenly flooded Jane’s body, making her shoulders feel lighter.
Jane grabbed the pen and signed with a force that threatened to tear through the thin paper.
Satisfied, Jane turned to the shopkeeper whom she had classified as her enemy for the better part of two years, “Gerald, how do you feel about unconventional materials?”
Gerald sighed, “Why am I not surprised to hear you inquire about that? Yes, depending on the material, there are ways in which I can incorporate it into the design.”
Jane reached into her pocket and pulled out a small case. She opened it and then unceremoniously slammed a tiny piece of metal on the counter for Gerald to take.
“Could you do something with that? Because this will definitely make this ring one of a kind.”
Frankie recognized the small object immediately, “Ew, Janie, why the hell was that in your pocket?” Frankie stepped back from the counter, clearly repulsed.
Gerald did not comment on Frankie’s reaction nor the recognizable shape of the object. Rather, he simply picked up the small piece of metal and inspected it, using his magnifier typically utilized for evaluating much more highly valued stones. “Hmm, this poses an interesting challenge, but I’ll see what I can do.” He turned the object once more between his fingers. Then, almost as if he was personally affronted by this item, he cried, “Wait, is this brass?!”