The Borrowed Ring

“I'm just…trying to make some difficult decisions.” It wasn't that she didn't intend ever to tell her mother what had happened with Daniel; it was just that she wanted to do so after she herself knew how the story ended.

There was no need to worry Layla unnecessarily—and she would worry if she knew her daughter was tempted to pursue a man who might be a criminal. A man who had given no indication he even wanted to be found again.

Layla searched her face. “You aren't ready to talk about those decisions?”

“Not yet.”

Her mother sighed and patted her knee. “You were always one who had to work everything out in your own mind before you turned to anyone else for advice. Just know that I'm here whenever you're ready to talk, all right?”

“I do know, Mom.” She felt very blessed to realize that she had that constant, unwavering support base. It was a safety net that had been denied Daniel at much too young an age.

Layla rose to her feet, patting her thick hair, which was now more gray than brown. “I have an appointment at my beauty salon this afternoon, so I'll leave you to brood in peace. Call if you need me, okay?”

“I will.”

“And eat something. You're too thin.”

B.J. smiled. “I'll order a pizza.”

Layla sighed heavily. “At least order veggies on it.”

“It's a deal.”

They hugged goodbye at the door. “Follow your heart, B.J.—it won't lead you wrong,” Layla said as she stepped outside.

Follow your heart. The words seemed to echo in the apartment after B.J. closed the door.

It was not particularly deep or original advice, but it was an adage Layla had adhered to faithfully in her own lifetime. From marrying her college sweetheart to finding her long-lost siblings, Layla had followed her heart into a comfortable, happy maturity. If she had any regrets about any of the decisions she had made along the way, no one would ever guess for her almost always cheerful demeanor.

Follow your heart.

She pulled Daniel's ring from her jeans pocket and rubbed one fingertip across its smooth surface. On an impulse, she slid it onto her left ring finger, marveling as always at how perfectly it fit her.

Daniel would be wanting this back, she told herself. Of course, she could give it to his aunt, but she really wanted to hand it to him in person.

He still owed her a debt—and it was time for her to collect.

The tea was brewed strong enough to be more bitter than soothing, but B.J. drank it with a smile. “This is delicious.”

Maria Sanchez smiled back at her. “It's nice to have company. Especially a friend of Daniel's.”

“I'm trying to find him again,” B.J. confessed. “I hoped you could give me a new lead.”

“Daniel doesn't stay in one place for very long at a time,” Maria said regretfully. “And he doesn't visit me often enough. The boy needs a permanent home.”

“Do you know where he is now, Mrs. Sanchez?”

The old woman eyed her with still-shrewd dark eyes. “You want to invite him to another party?”

“No. I have something that belongs to him and I would like to return it personally.” B.J. held out her hand, revealing the gold band resting on her palm.

Maria stared at the band. “My sister's ring.”

“Yes.”

“Where did you get it? Daniel never lets it out of his sight.”

“He…let me borrow it. Now I need to give it back.”