Sparks Fly

their display cases, he crossed the store and proceeded straight to the back room, which was reserved for regular customers.
    Jim, the head salesperson, said “Mr. Scott, it is my pleasure to see you back in the store again.”
    “Likewise, Jim,” Will replied, a ready smile on his lips. Leaning forward, he lowered his voice in a confidential manner. “I was hoping you could help me with something very important.”
    “Of course, sir.”
    “I need you to find me the most exquisite engagement ring you have on the premises.”

    Jim inclined his head in understanding and prepared to bring back a selection of rings for Will to choose from.
    “Oh, and Jim? Could you make sure it has something red in it?”
    With a smile and a nod, Jim disappeared into the profusion of jewels that Tiffany offered, leaving Will temporarily alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t wait for the moment when Angelina became his.
    He already knew just what he wanted: A short engagement, a long honeymoon, and a family of little girls with Angelina’s good looks and quick mind.

    * * *
    Flying first class for the second time in her life, all Angelina did was sleep. “What a waste this would have been if I’d actually paid for it,” she whispered to herself after she was awakened by the pilot broadcasting their impending landing.
    An efficient flight attendant must have seen her lips move. “Ms. Morgan, would you like some juice or coffee?”
    Angelina mustered up a smile. “I would love a glass of orange juice,” she said with a dry tongue, and reconsidered the perks to flying first class, knowing full well that the customers behind the thick blue curtain were not having their every whim catered to.
    As she took a fortifying gulp of her orange juice, she thought about her new life in a cottage on Wishing Lake. Or, rather, she thought about Will.
    And how much she already missed him.
    She put her glass down with a shaky hand and the flight attendant gave her a quick pat on the shoulder. “All of us have a bad day every now and then, honey. Don’t beat yourself up over it.
    Everything is going to be all right.”
    Angelina blinked back the tears that sprang into her eyes from such a heartfelt expression of empathy from a total stranger. Leaning back against the soft leather seat, she tried to make believe that everything actually was, in fact, going to be all right.

    * * *
    Will drove straight from the jewelry store to Angelina’s house. He wasn’t going to let one more thing get between him and the woman he was meant to be with for the rest of his life.
    He pulled up to the curb in front of her house and noted that her red VW Bug was not parked in the driveway. “Probably parked in the garage,” he said cheerfully to himself.
    Tapping his right pocket with the palm of his hand to make sure the engagement ring was still there, he walked confidently up the front path and rang the doorbell. When Angelina didn’t answer, he tried the doorknob to see if she had left it unlocked by accident.
    It twisted easily in his hand and he started to walk inside with a huge smile on his face, looking forward to surprising Angelina with his unexpected presence.
    He stepped into a completely empty house, unable to believe his eyes.
    She was gone.

    * * *
    Will spent the night with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, and woke up on his living room floor with a pounding head and a mouth that tasted like old socks. When the doorbell rang, he didn’t even realize it was the doorbell. Instead, it sounded like one hundred cannons all firing in his head.
    He rolled over into a sitting position, not quite sure what had happened. As he heard a key turn in the lock, he suddenly remembered everything and wished the bottle of whiskey wasn’t empty. He badly needed another drink.
    The sound of high heels clicking on the wood floor was as painful as someone playing the drums right next to his head. He looked up, bleary-eyed. His ex-wife was standing with her hands on her hips, looking down at him.
    “What happened to you?” she said in a strangely unperky voice.
    “Not so loud. You’re killing me with that racket.”
    “How about this?” she said, as she picked up a large hardcover book from the coffee table and threw it down on the floor.
    Will covered his ears with his hands a millisecond too late. “This is what death must feel like,”
    he groaned, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, hoping that when he opened them his nightmare would have ended.
    “Not