Headaches annoyed her. They especially irritated her when they hit while she was surrounded by people in a hot, stuffy shopping mall during the busiest shopping season of the year. The annoyance and irritation sparked her anger, which managed to dull the pain.

Able to think clearly, she realized that he had been leading her through the mall in a confused, inefficient searching pattern. She stopped where she was.

It took Gil only one-half of a second to realize he was alone. He pivoted easily and scanned the crowded space for her. Catherine placed a glare upon her face and it checked his steps towards her.

"We've been wandering for an hour," she informed him. "You want to tell me why I'm here as your drag toy?"

He pulled his eyebrows down. "Drag toy?"

She rolled her eyes. "Something you drag along with you wherever you go?"

"I'm not dragging you along, Cath," he replied. "I need your expertise."

"That's just it, Gil!" she retorted and resisted his renewed attempts to steer her through the mass of bodies.

Immediately, her tone changed his pulling into an awkward push and shuffle. When movement stopped, she sat on a bench beside an imported evergreen. She picked his voice out from the murmur of the crowd; he was telling her that he would be right back. Sighing, she closed her eyes and waited because there was no other place she had to be.

A cool water bottle roused her and she took it gratefully. The painkillers that Gil offered were wanted all the more.

Hands empty, he reached for her and massaged her temples with his thumbs, the circular motion he used relieving her of pain. His hand drifted towards her neck, and he continued to relax tensed muscles as the medication began to work. At the very moment when she was fully able to function--and, admittedly, to appreciate his physical nearness--he stepped out of her personal space. Catherine realized then how rarely he was ever in it these past weeks.

"I'm sorry." As always, Gil's quiet voice had a tendency to yell volumes of information.

Now that Catherine was capable of flaying him alive for the secrecy surrounding this mall trip, she discovered her curiosity level was extremely low.

So, she brushed aside his apology and said, "This would be a very good time to tell me what we're doing here."

He blinked a few times, assimilating the fact that she still was willing to help him. She shot him a grin and shrugged a nonchalant "why not?"

"We might as well finish what you planned because I can't go home until you do. You do remember you're my ride, right, Gil?"

His eyes twinkled though his words were serious. "I'll drive you home if you want. You're here to help, not be my hostage."

Suddenly a smile broke through the lingering stiffness of Catherine's facial muscles.

"No, but you are mine," she replied, enjoying the smile that slowly, oh, so slowly, curved Gil's lips.

The effect it had on her was interesting. For a moment, the recollection of her burden-free, regret-free, young adult behavior was overwhelmingly strong. It was a minute, perhaps more, when the years fast-forwarded back to the present and she found herself with Gil in the mall.

It was absurd how much she wanted to undo the years and to live her early twenties for the rest of her life. Then, the image of Lindsey and all the memories of her daughter suffocated the desire. She could never regret her daughter.

Predictably, she saw that Gil had observed everything that showed in her eyes but said absolutely nothing. His posture was awkward so Catherine rose to her feet, slipped her arm through his in a move that was uncharacteristic because it was with him, and began to stroll with him through the promenade.

"Today, Gil, before the good gifts are taken."

He exhaled. She nudged him.

"I'm looking for two rings; they need to be similar though the smaller one should be a simpler version of the larger ring."

"Okay. Jewelry. I can do jewelry," Catherine replied, feeling the persona of co-conspirator to the fullest.

She maneuvered him around a crowd of squealing teenagers and winced with him at the volume of their voices. Were they ever that young, she wondered.

When the ambient noise of the mall decreased to a murmur, she leaned into Gil and asked, "Did you have anything particular in mind?"

"No."

"Then, do you mind if we go to Zales? It's my favorite."

Catherine did not bother with his answer; she merely steered him through the maze of corridors whose convoluted path led them to the jewelry store. Once at the store's door, she had to force him to enter, though she had a smile on her face.

It was not the daunting task of choosing the rings which had Gil wanting to walk away from the jewelry store, but the tempting sight of a bookstore adjacent to Zales which distracted him. Had she not been there, there was no doubt, from his guilty expression, that Gil would have forgotten his task and entered the bookstore.

Inside Zales, diffuse yellow light and soft ambient music created a pleasing atmosphere. A suited sales representative gave them a quiet greeting and directed them towards the engagement rings at Gil's request. He tactfully withdrew to a precise three feet, close enough to keep a watchful eye on them and near enough to render instant assistance.

Catherine tried not to speculate on his choice of rings. There could be any number of reasons why he wanted an engagement ring: one, he could be scouting the selection for a friend; two, he could be looking for a ring for an unknown special someone; three, he could be gauging her reaction to certain rings.

Deciding that impartial interest was the best method of attack, she allowed him the quiet he needed to study the rings. She, meanwhile, concentrated upon the matching earring and necklace sets that were displayed behind them. Knowing him as she did, she counted the minutes ticking by, sensing his frustration at the multitude of choices, and ignored it.

Catherine glanced at the sales representative and subtly drew his attention. She asked him a question and listened as attentively as possible to his answer. Impressed, she continued to ply the man with questions until she felt an insistent tug on her arm.

Together, she and the sales representative turned towards Gil.

She smiled at him, amused by how far removed from his comfort zone he was and impressed by how resolute he was to purchase his rings. Looping her arm through his again, to give comfort, she leaned into him.

"It would help, Gil, if you told me who the recipients are supposed to be and a little about them."

He raised both eyebrows.

"The ring reflects the person, sir," the sales representative interjected, smoothly, confidently, assuringly. "A person who prefers the simple things in life, who is practical, or who has a physically demanding job, may prefer a ring with a smaller diamond and a simple cut. An individual who, in my experience, has a profession that doesn't involve a great deal of manual labor may enjoy a larger diamond, one that tells the world she's about to marry the man she loves."

Gil absorbed the man's information, obviously categorizing it into his memory for some future, unseen reason.

"I think," he replied, "both rings should be simple. No more than one carat."

"Ah, then these rings, sir."

The sales representative opened the display case and lifted two sets of velvet cases from behind the glass.

Through a series of pointed questions from Catherine, explanations from the sales representative, and distracted answers from Gil, they managed to narrow his selection to a single design.

The band was white gold and the diamond was princess cut. It was not the flashiest design nor was it the simplest; instead, it somehow screamed, "Gil bought me!"

"Now, sir, you mentioned, two rings. Will the same design be used for both rings?"

"Yes."

"What are the sizes?"

Gil's lips twisted from concentration to a smirk. He turned to Catherine, and she was surprised to see the laughter lurking in his eyes.

"What shoe size is Lindsey?"

It did not take her any time at all to connect the implications.

"You are not buying a ring for Lindsey!"

"Why not?" he countered. "It's my Christmas present for her."

"It's an engagement ring, Gil."

He pursed his lips, returning once again to his looks of concentration.

"Okay, the one carat is, but I don't see how a smaller diamond would make it look like an engagement ring."

She had to give the sales representative credit. He was as smooth as they come; no sooner was the hint in the air when he ducked behind the counter and retrieved rings of the same design but with half- carat, one-third-carat, and quarter-carat stones.

Lost in thought, Gil softly stated, "This one."

"The size, ma'am?" the sales representative prodded her gently into giving Lindsey's shoe size. To Gil, he said, "If you find that the ring doesn't precisely fit, we can reset the stone. Just bring her in and make sure you have the receipt."

Afraid that she knew what was coming next, she tried to distract Gil with a trip to the bookstore. It did not work.

When the question of the ring size for the second ring was asked, Gil motioned that it was for her and the sales representative smiled. Catherine wanted an excuse to yell, to scream, but his smile was genuine and did not hint at his thoughts; she had no reason to use the man to vent.

His assessment was quick and accurate; Catherine had to nod that he had guessed her size correctly.

Their transaction did not take much longer to complete and Gil barely had time to return his credit card to his wallet when she dragged him outside.

"Gil, what are you doing?"

His smile was tentative, showing all that was good in him.

"I'm giving both rings to Lindsey, Cath. I just thought that maybe she would want the fantasy." He glanced away. "It may be too late for us, but that doesn't mean we can't give Lindsey the hope for something more between us."

It was too late to guard her heart against those words, the words that hinted at more than he wanted to reveal. They melted her and tears came to her eyes.

Could it be that Lindsey was right?