“You have to maintain some semblance of normalcy to function in society,” she said severely. “All three rings need to match, but they can’t be overly matchy-matchy. That’s cutesy and I can’t recommend that in this case. You’re too short to do cutesy.”

“Or inclined,” I said.

“What? Never mind. Doesn’t matter. Now, as I was saying, the style of all three rings needs to match.”

“Why?”

Julia sighed. “Have you not been paying attention to wedding fashions? No, don’t answer that. I’m sure you have not, in spite of both Kristen and your aunt Frances getting married this year, so it’s a good thing you have me to help out.”

“So lucky,” I murmured.

“Yes, you are. Now. The engagement ring is the first step in your forever relationship. This ring symbolizes everything the two of you have done to date and everything that will happen in the future.”

Since we’d come to a stop sign, I felt free to raise my hand. “Question. Isn’t that a big burden for a hunk of metal and rock?”

“Can’t quite hear you over this noisy engine,” Julia said, unnecessarily raising her voice. “You might want to have that looked into. But rings are important,” she went on more moderately. “Every day for the rest of your life, there they are. Every waking hour you’ll notice them on your hand. Make a bad choice, and you’ll regret the decision forever.”

I glanced over, trying to remember the kind of rings Julia wore. “Voice of experience?”

“You tell me.” She pointed at the tiny diamond and narrow wedding band on her left hand. “We were young and poor and bought the cheapest rings in the store. All we could afford, see? We could buy something fancy now, but we like to remember those early years.”

I smiled. Julia had a streak of sentimentality in her. Who would have guessed?

“Now,” she said, settling back into her seat. “Let’s talk rocks. Big ones, because you deserve it.”

So we did—or at least she did—the rest of the day. And since it was a very long day, my interest in talking about rings, weddings, receptions, and honeymoons had waned hours before we finally turned toward home. Even Julia’s deep well of imagination must have been running dry because her final attempt was weak.

“You could,” she said, “have your engagement ring match your wedding. Wait, I have it! An emerald ring and a Wizard of Oz theme. Wedding gown like Glinda’s dress, put Eddie in a basket like Toto, and the three of you can leave in a balloon.”

The idea was ludicrous and I was about to say so, when Eddie did it for me.

“MrrRRR!”