Chapter Text
“I can’t believe you managed to get an ounce of commitment out of him before the age of seventy five, let alone a ring.” Elia’s smile isn’t bittersweet, and his tone is joking rather than mocking. She’s glad. She knows that Jayden and Elia have a history, but it’s been put behind them for the most part. Sharing a room for four years’ll do that to you.
“Believe it or not, the ring on my finger says all you need to know.” Jackie beams, bringing her hand up and wiggling her fingers in demonstration, the engagement ring a comforting weight on it.
He examines it, taking her hand in his, and whistles. “This is nice. Vintage. You’ve got good taste, Jackie.” He tells her approvingly, moving his hands from under hers gracefully.
Jayden coasts in, a little unsteady on his feet, probably due to the lager he’s been sipping away at all night. Jackie stands up fully once more, wobbling for a moment. It’s just the shoes. “You mean I have good taste. She didn’t give me anything to work with.”
“I did too!” She exclaims, scorned. “I had a Pinterest board! You were on it!”
“And they were all different styles, Jackie.” He groans exasperatedly.
She sniffs. “There was a general vibe at play.”
He mouths ‘There wasn’t.’ at Elia, but he’s swiftly elbowed. Elia’s eyes bounce between the two of them with a flicker of amusement. “Alright, then, I’ll ask. How’d you pick it in the end?”
Jayden throws himself onto one of the chairs dramatically, his face quickly dropping as it nearly falls backwards with the force of him. When that’s dealt with, he clears his throat. “Right, well, it all started with Corrie.”
—---------------------------------------------
“Please?” He asks hopefully, facing a rather disgruntled Corrie Maddens. He brings with him a peace offering; a mortar and pestle. He figured he needed to butter them up the night before, and went on Amazon to find witchy shit for a next day delivery.
“You can’t just show up at my place with a mortar and pestle for the missus just because you want something.” Corrie tells him firmly, before their expression lightens. “She’ll have that for grinding up bones, though.”
Jayden swallows, furrowing his brow. “Right, yeah… anyway, will you? Please?”
“If she were here right now she’d say you shouldn’t have to ask.” They tell him accusingly.
He puts the mortar and pestle to the side so he can raise his hands in surrender. “I know! I know that, alright? I’ve been in dozens of vintage shops and checked out hundreds of lab grown gems and nothing is her, you know? She’s so- God, I know that if I fuck it up she won’t care. But she’s Jackie, and she’s so… specific, you know? Like, she’s probably been dreaming of a proposal since she was eight, or something, and I just want it to be right. I’m already not the man her mum would’ve liked. I want to at least give her a proposal she’d be proud of.”
Corrie’s face has softened substantially. “Hetslop.” They murmur.
“Sorry, what was that?” He asks, face flattening.
They wave him off. “Nothing. Fine, I’ll help you. But only if Adeline can come too. She has a sense for these things.”
—---------------------------------------------
Jackie turns to Corrie, a fake expression of shock on her face. “You did not call it hetslop!”
Corrie scowls, rubbing their arm where Jackie’s prodded them with a sharp acrylic. “Right, in my defence, he’s left out that it was about three in the morni-”
“Eleven at night.” Jayden interjects, before being glared back into silence.
“Oh, bugger off. Woke me up either way.” They grumble. “And, besides, what else was I supposed to say? He’d just given me this long, sappy rant - which was much longer and sappier than he’s letting on, by the way - and I’d just woken up. Hetslop was the kindest word I had for Jayden at that point in time.”
“I told you I was coming and had to speak to you urgently.” He mutters.
Corrie rolls their eyes. “You can’t expect me to prioritise you over, like… anything, actually. I’d push you toward the troll under the bridge if it gave me more time to think of what I was going to say.”
Jayden gasps. “I’m insulted that you think I’d take you troll hunting in the first place.”
“I misspoke. The troll’s your mam. You can’t get offended, they sound simila-” A soft hand gets shoved over Corrie’s face, and two get placed on Jayden’s hips, dragging him back to prevent him from going for them.
“Calm it, you two.” Elia orders, using his famed captain voice. “Anyway. Carry on with the story.”
—---------------------------------------------
“Her mum’s insisting that her ring would be better.” Adeline pipes up, and Jayden tries excruciatingly hard not to roll his eyes.
They’re in some place called Cathedral Jewellers, a family owned jewellers that's on the brink of closing down, so everything’s a little cheaper than it would be. That’s actually not why he picked it: these days he’s doing fine for himself monetarily. With top and bottom surgery both out the way, he can more than afford to splurge on a divorce lawyer’s salary. However, a generational family business (and a failing one at that) is more likely to have the older rings Jackie’s more likely to go for, and he’ll hopefully get good karma (and brownie points with the missus) if he helps a small business out. It’s a dusty old boutique, with a young teenage employee blowing gum behind the counter, but picturing Jackie running about telling him facts about engagement rings and finding beauty even underneath all the grime is keeping his doubts at bay. For now, that is. If he doesn’t find a ring that really screams Jackie in here, he’s leaving a really mean review. No, he’s not, because that’d be a cruel thing to do, but he’ll really really want to. He can sense it already.
“Right, yeah, but her mum thinks another man would be better, so forgive me if I don’t really trust her opinion.” Jayden grumbles bluntly, cruising through the aisle.
“Is that not more reason to trust her opinion?” Corrie asks, faux innocence the overtone in their voice, with a rather bitchy undertone.
Jayden just glares. “Put your pipe down. Are you going to help, or are you just going to make up ghost stories?”
“Shake the sand out your knickers, I’m having a laugh.” Corrie groans. “I’ve told you a million times, she likes any jewellery as long as it’s either lab grown or second hand. She’d probably accept a Mickey Mouse limited edition collectors ring as long as you peeled it off the last owner’s corpse.”
“Oh, in that case, I found this in the woods the other day.” Adeline says brightly, pulling out a grimy ornate ring from one of her many pockets.
Corrie looks at her, unimpressed. “We’re not recreating the corpse bride, Adeline.”
Adeline sighs sadly, before returning the ring to her pocket. “Her mum liked the idea.”
“Again, can you please tell Mrs Beale to butt out?” Jayden huffs. “She’s not helping.”
“Can’t.” She says simply, continuing to peer through the selection. “I wonder if they have any opal rings, or maybe pearl. They’d look marvellous, and they’re good conductors.”
“Conductors of what? Electricity?” Jayden asks, deadpan. “Sorry, but I don’t think she plans on powering the neighbourhood with her ring finger.”
“Magic.” Adeline replies, as if it was obvious.
“It’s always magic with you. Don’t know why I asked.” He groans. He picks up a ring at random, feeling the solid weight of it in his hand. It’s a brilliant red, with a heart in the centre. “How about this one?”
“Nope. Tacky.” Corrie tells him firmly.
“Jackie likes tacky stuff!” He protests half heartedly.
“Not for her engagement ring she doesn’t! For her engagement ring, Jackie wants classy. Something she’ll always love that’ll go with anything.” Corrie tells him tersely. “How about this one, then? Says it’s pearl and tanzanite, and it looks a bit like her mum’s engagement ring, she’ll love that.”
Jayden wrinkles up his nose. “It’s nice, but the pearls are kind of reminding me of boobs.”
“He’s right.” Adeline agrees strongly. Corrie turns to look at her. “Not about the bosoms, I don’t see that, but tanzanite signifies transformation. You don’t want a symbol of change at a time that’s supposed to be all about binding. It could harbour divorce.”
“What she said.” Jayden reiterates, as puzzled as he is.
“These people…” Corrie grumbles, walking on.
“Oh, this is pretty.” Adeline gasps, picking up a small gold ring, with a flash of pink in the middle. “And its owner had four boys, which at the time was a sign of prosperity.”
Jayden gives her a shifty look. “It’s nice, but… I don’t know, I’m waiting for a ring to just be Jackie. It feels like that’s a bloody impossible task. Maybe that’s the problem with vintage rings. They already have someone else’s, like, sigil on them. I’m going to have to get a ring made, aren’t I?”
“Yup.” And all of a sudden, Corrie punches him in the hip.
“Ow! What was that for?” He demands.
“Preparing you for how bad your pockets are about to hurt.”
—---------------------------------------------
“Oi, come off it. We were not bad shopping partners, or at least not as bad as you’re acting like we were.” Corrie scowls, and turns to Jackie. “He was a right bastard as well. Oh, no, this ring is too thick, oh, no, this ring is too thin, oh no, this ring is too heavy, he turned into the Goldilocks of vintage jewellery. Drove me up the wall.”
“I don’t doubt that.” Jackie replies, swallowing a smile. “Who’d you go to next, then? Mac and Kendra? My dad? Or did you go on your own, that time?”
Elia pipes back up again. “He wanted to use your family as a last resort so he maintained his good impression.”
“No I did not-” Jayden begins to bicker, but Elia intercepts him.
“Alright, then let me tell the next bit, then.” He demands, and Jayden slumps in defeat. “Okay, so Jayden drags us out to this fancy ass boutique in London…”
—---------------------------------------------
The boutique is one of those places that feels like a filler. Like, in every city centre you’ve got your little corner shops that’re only a few metres wide but host a robbery every day and still have a cat catching mice for them, and you’ve got your bustling businesses that carry the latest trend and about three thousand pre teens in and out every weekend, and those are both fine and dandy. But then, when you come to the end of the high street and the people begin to be sparser, you reach the posh shops. The shops that only carry designer brands in no size above a six, which they label XL. The shops that cost more than the average mortgage for a pair of slippers. The shops that are always open, but that you never see customers inside. Elia’s been in a healthy chunk of them in his lifetime, and he can confidently say that he’s pretty sure they’re somehow money laundering schemes. Or status symbols for the brands, or something. He’s not shopped in any of them since he was about seventeen, too uncomfortable with the stares he got from snooty employees to bother, and really, it was a breath of fresh air. It’s better to buy things from places you know are putting every last penny of their savings into to make it a success. It makes you feel better, to actually connect with people, rather than being talked down to by a self absorbed assistant.
However, Jayden picked it, so he’ll hold his tongue. Plus, it has to be high end if he wants to make his own ring with a lab grown stone. Secretly, he also thinks that Jayden might like to flaunt his money a little now he has it. “Could we not have done this online?” Elia asks hopefully.
Jayden brushes him off with a sweeping motion. “No, I want the interaction with the actual guy.”
“What guy?” Elia asks, quirking up an eyebrow.
“Y’know, the guy. It’s called Giorgio and Stone, and this is like, the original branch. There’s a good chance they’ll be here, and if anyone can figure out what she likes - oh, quit laughing - it’s probably them.” Jayden huffs, strolling inside, ahead of Tommy and Elia.
“Can’t believe he hasn’t even considered Giorgio’s a woman.” Tommy mumbles, mostly to himself, and Elia laughs so raucously he has to put the brakes on his chair to steady himself.
Elia tries to smoothen his face out, his eyes still crinkling with laughter at the corners. “Oi, you can’t pipe up with that. Bet you’ve never considered Dr Pepper could be a bird.”
Tommy’s mouth is agape, and Elia can watch the cogs physically turning in his head. “But- no! No, swear down they use a man in the adverts.”
“Wow, Tommy. Maybe she’s a butch lesbian. Open your mind.” Elia mocks, before undoing the brakes and steering himself through the door.
The interior is exactly as he’d expected. Lofty ceilings and absolutely nobody but a sales associate and a cashier in the distance inside. The atmosphere is clean and white, and he’s pretty sure that if a baby were to be brought in here, a posh butler would teleport in out of nowhere and vacuum it up. Tommy squeezes past him, following Jayden’s steps, and Elia is just about to join the chain when a sales associate appears in front of him, veneered smile plastered on her face. “Sir, it’s shop policy to have wheelchair bound people transfer into our shop wheelchair. May I assist you with that?”
She’s gesturing toward a chair in the corner, so he peers at it. It’s a clunky, horrible thing, the sort of standard chair you get in hospitals. And he might put up with that, if it wasn’t clear that it’s designed for someone else to push. And so, he just gawks at her and asks “Why?” in the most obtuse voice he can possibly manage.
She crouches down in that annoying way people do when they’re trying to talk to toddlers. He doesn’t mind it when people get down to his level, but only when they’re actually on his level, usually kneeling and actually meeting his eyes. This is just straight up condescending. To make the matter worse, she applies a baby voice. “Because we don’t want your chair bringing in muddy tracks, okay?” She simpers.
“Alright, then take your shoes off.” He replies, deadpan.
She blinks a few times. “Why would I do that?”
He adopts the baby voice, this time. “Because if my wheelchair is going to bring muddy tracks in, then so are your last season burberry loafers.”
“Sir, I really don’t think those are the same-” She tries, but he just scowls at her.
“Oh, piss off.” He grumbles, before wheeling past her suddenly enough that she nearly falls over when trying to yank her foot out of his path. Serves her right.
When he reaches the other end of the store, Jayden is looking rapidly more unimpressed by the second. He’s talking to some Italian guy who doesn’t have an accent, but seems to have maintained the rapid manner of speaking. Jayden’s hands are balled into fists. Elia takes note of that. When this man catches sight of him, his hands are all of a sudden slapped to his face. “Oh, is he the page boy? Very dear indeed!”
It is so horribly demeaning that Elia really, really wants to rip his moustache off like it’s one of those stick on ones. Luckily for this man, Jayden’s ready and roaring to go before Elia gets there. “No, actually, this is a big fat gay wedding and my disabled soon to be fiancee is the star of the show. Tommy’s the real page boy, and we’re gonna have him crawl down the aisle in a gimp suit. It’ll be fucking great.” He takes a deep breath, and Elia can visibly see the effort it’s taking him to stop himself from letting fists fly. “I’m taking my business elsewhere, leaving a really shit review, and reporting you to the police for breaches of the 2010 Equality Act, asshole.”
And then, he’s storming off, and Tommy and Elia have nothing better to do than follow. The second they’re out of there, and Jayden is letting some steam off on a bench, Tommy clears his throat and starts up. “Mate, that might’ve been a little far-”
“No.” Jayden says, sharply. “Tommy, I’m black.” Then, he sighs. A prolonged, agonised sound that says so much without a single word formulated. “That guy could tell what I was just by looking at me. Could tell what Elia was just by looking at him. We’re targets. You might be bisexual, and you might be bigender, but you can’t really get what it is to be targeted the second someone looks at you. That wasn’t harsh. It was actually really fucking nice, considering that they were literally breaking the law.”
“Okay.” Tommy replies softly. “Sorry.”
“You’re fine, it’s just… I really should’ve stuck to doing it online.” He mumbles.
“I am with Tommy on this.” Elia broaches carefully. “I probably could’ve put up with that, and it was important to you-”
“So what, it’s important to me?” Jayden demands. “You know what else is? Being a good friend! Not taking every microaggression lying down- did you even see the security guard that was looking at me whenever I was looking away like I was a fucking weeping angel? God, of course you didn’t. I’m not the kind of person who ignores stuff like that anymore. I wasn’t making a scene for you, Elia. I was making a scene because it’s my societal obligation. Because it’s the promise Jackie made me make to myself. Okay?”
Elia whistles slowly. “Jayden, please never let that woman leave you.”
“I’m trying, don’t you worry.” Jayden responds, slowly diffusing his anger.
“D’you lot wanna get pissed and see the wolverine exhibit at the zoo in town together? Heard they’ve got a cardboard cutout of Hugh Jackman there.” Tommy asks, with nothing else left to add to the conversation.
Elia grabs Tommy’s jaw. “Tommy, if I ever say no to that question I need you to shoot me.”
—---------------------------------------------
“Oh, honey.” Jackie says softly, planting her lips to Jayden’s cheek.
“My temper is not that fast. You spent way more time with that woman.” Jayden argues, but he can’t help but smile into the kiss, before reciprocating with a full snog that has Corrie going ‘eugh’ like a little kid who’s seeing their parents show affection for the first time.
“So what, I skipped over the boring bits? Who wants to hear about fifteen minutes of me arguing about sanitary conditions with that saleswoman?” Elia asks.
“Fair point.” Corrie chimes in. “Does sound pretty boring, and I’d like to get back to the parts of the story where Jayden makes a fool of himself rather than being a reasonable person.”
Jackie giggles, removing her mouth from Jayden’s, but remains firmly seated in his lap. “Hang on, is that why you came home stoned that night quoting ‘Patience isn’t my strongest suit’ while still resolutely trying to get my knickers off?”
“A magician never tells…” Jayden mumbles, eyes twinkling. “Worked, didn’t it?”
“No, it didn’t, because I recognised that you were totally blitzed and made you sleep on the pullout bed.” She replies, trying to keep a deadpan expression.
“Oh.” He starts, disappointedly. “Well then, I had a really nice dream that finished it off.”
Jackie prods him. “Stop telling the public about your wet dreams and get on with the story!”
“Alright, alright…” He continues, but not without planting what he seems to think is a sly hand on her ass first. “So, I was at my wits end. Finally decided to talk to her dad.”
—---------------------------------------------
The Beale house still has a welcoming air about it, even though most of the chicks have left the nest. Most, not all, because Mackenzie still remains, and nobody really seems to have a problem with it. Jackie often says that she’s glad he hasn’t, because it means her dad still has someone to look after. Has someone to make him feel a little less lonely. Jayden still thinks he could probably get that from Hinge, too, but whenever he brings that up Jackie sleeps on the edge of the bed and hogs all the quilts, so he chooses to stay wisely silent. It’s only seven in the morning, just an hour before Jackie gets up to do her lesson plans on a Saturday, and he’s praying this will be a quick, easy ordeal, so she doesn’t notice that he’s gone, or wake up without him. It always makes him feel guilty, when he gets up before she does, so if he’s on an early shift, he’ll wake her up just to say good morning, knowing she’ll fall right back asleep the second he’s gone. Even if she doesn’t remember it, it’s something of a comfort to him. Knowing that she won’t wake up bewildered, looking for him. When she has to get in earlier than him, she’ll leave notes on every mirror in the house, always reading ‘good morning, handsome’ in the illegibly neat handwriting her regular penmanship turns into when she’s first woken up. God, does he love her. He’s getting off track.
He raps on the door a couple of times, hoping that Jackie’s dad still wakes up at six o’clock to water the plants. Sure enough, the man soon comes strolling toward the quaint red door, ever so slightly visible through the translucent stained glass windows. The door swings open, and Jayden’s left looking at a rather intimidating Mr Beale, dressed in Greggs themed pyjamas that were sold at Primark about a decade ago. His face brightens upon recognising Jayden. “Oh, Jayden, son, you should’ve told me you were stopping by.”
He smiles warmly. “I would’ve, but it slipped my mind. Plus, I know you’ve got a big mouth, Mr Beale. You’d let it spill to Jack if I gave fair warning, and then the gig would be up.”
“Come in, son, come in.” Mr Beale ushers, with a kind of pushy hospitality that Jayden’s always appreciated. He steps inside, and Mr Beale closes the door behind him, before pottering off into the living room. Jayden takes his shoes off before following. Old habits die hard. “Anyway, what is it that I’m forbidden from telling Jackie?” He asks, before plonking himself on the couch, taking a sip from a discarded coffee cup left on the side table.
Jayden sits down carefully, and meets his eyes. “I’m asking her to marry me.” He expels bluntly, just to get it over and done with. He won’t say it if he doesn’t just spit it out first.
Speaking of spit, that’s exactly what happens to the coffee Mr Beale’d just swallowed. And then, without even concerning himself with the mess all down his pyjamas, he turns back to Jayden. “You are?” His eyes are brimming with tears already.
“I am.” He confirms quietly. “Is that, um, something you approve of, or-”
“Of course it’s something I approve of!” He barks out. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to say it that loud. But of course it is, you numpty. You’ve been going out for something like eight years, I knew it was on the horizon, just- oh, God, my little girl’s getting married.” He seems to be trying remarkably hard not to cry.
“Fingers crossed, that is.” Jayden laughs nervously.
Mr Beale looks at him like he’s just admitted he stole the crown jewels of timbuktu. “Are you mental? Of course she’ll say yes! She loves you like my mother loves Paul McCartney! That’s some pretty serious devotion, considering she’s still got a bloody Beatlemania shrine up.” He looks at Jayden balefully, with those ‘trying not to cry’ eyes once more. “I couldn’t be prouder to have you as a son in law, you know?” He tells him strongly. “Don’t matter that you’ve not got a dad, or that your mum doesn’t approve, because you’ve made me proud. I’m proud of you, and I’m proud of my daughter, and I can’t wait to welcome you into the family officially.”
“Thank you, Mr Beale.” He says quietly, a strange mix of feelings filling his chest.
“Have you got the ring yet?” Mr Beale asks, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze in an almost fatherly motion of affection.
“Um, no. That’s actually part of the reason I’m here, actually.” He starts nervously. “I was wondering if you’d let me have her mum’s ri-”
“No.” He cuts him off, not unkindly.
He didn’t even let him finish. “Right, okay. I’ll just be going, then-”
“I’m not saying that to be an arse, son.” He affirms, stopping Jayden in his tracks due to the general sense that a monologue is about to occur. “I know her mum’s important to her. But she has her mum in just about every other sense. She’s marrying the boy her mum taught, for Christ’s sake. I think that eventually, Jackie’s total reverence for her mum is going to fade. It probably already has, but it definitely will when she gets a family. She’s not going to stop loving her, she’s just going to have other priorities. It’s better that you start the road to new priorities, rather than letting her cling to the past on one of the happiest days of her life. Let her love you as an individual, not just because her mam would’ve liked you. Stop trying to impress a dead woman, and make the choice that’s better for both of you. That you feel deep down in your bones. That’s the right choice. Not idolising Iris. Only I get to do that.” He jokes, with an undertone that’s both incredibly sad and also one of the most loving things Jayden’s ever heard from someone that’s not Jackie. Maybe that’s where she gets it. “And don’t let anyone else boss you about, for that matter. Your relationship is ‘tween the two of you. Go wherever your heart’s leading you. It’s clearly a good compass, considering it led you to her.”
“Okay.” Jayden says, and something in him aches. “I just don’t know where to start. I feel like this stuff comes so naturally to everyone else, especially her, and I’ve just been totally useless the entire time I’ve been trying to do the same.”
“Tell me about it.” He laughs, while being at the receiving end of a puzzled look. “Took me about six months to find Iris’, nothing was good enough for her, and I had a very tight budget. Then I stumbled in this little hole in the wall ran by this guy called Fezziwig, who showed me the most perfect ring I’ve ever seen in my life and gave me half off cos he could tell I loved her.” He pauses. “Y’know, he’s retired now, but I’m sure he could still-”
“Please.” Jayden responds, exhaling it like it’s a sigh of relief. And, to some extent, it is.
—---------------------------------------------
“Visited on the Sunday, and ended up with this sucker half way into my visit to his flat.” He beams, holding up Jackie’s ring finger, so the entire room can see. “Gave me it for free and all. Just seemed really delighted to have the company. Apparently, this little beauty was one he couldn’t bear to leave behind when he passed the shop on, and a few years ago he cooked up a regular wedding band to match, which suits us very well.”
“He’s invited to the wedding.” Jackie says proudly. “Got my dad talking to him, too, and now he’s trying to convince him to set up an Etsy shop.”
“Seems like he’s certainly gotten his interest for jewellery back, considering he keeps begging for a look at Jackie’s wedding dress to make matching earrings.” Jayden grins. “Considering that he’s ninety odd, he’s remarkably on it.”
“Well, I’m a vision, Jayden. Even the senile must see a vision completed.” Jackie chuckles, preening jokingly.
“That you are.” He mumbles, pressing a kiss to her jaw.
She swats him away. “Stop drunkenly slumping, we only have half the story!”
“What’s the other half again?” He yawns.
“Me, totally predicting the proposal.” She replies smugly. “Right, so, I first noticed it when…”
Half the room is already half asleep. Jayden strokes a hand over her shoulders. “Maybe another day, pet.”