Second Ring
1542 Words
The dining table glowed warmly under the soft chandelier light, the polished mahogany reflecting the shine of crystal glasses and silver cutlery. Larry, Beverly, and Mrs. Lawson sat together, the table filled with steaming dishes prepared by the household staff.
Larry, ever the gentleman, leaned back in his chair and smiled. “This meal is truly delicious, Mom. You really outdid yourself tonight.
Mrs. Lawson arched an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smile that was more smug than warm. “Oh, Larry, don’t flatter me. My maid prepared everything. I only supervised.”
Larry chuckled awkwardly, taking another sip of wine to mask the sting of her words. He tried not to show how much her dismissal unsettled him. Just as he was about to change the subject, Mrs. Lawson reached into her handbag.
“Before I forget,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness, “I brought something from Zanzibar.”
She placed a velvet box on the table and pushed it toward Beverly. “For you, darling.”
Beverly blinked in surprise. “For me?”
“Yes. Open it.”
Inside the box lay a silver ring, delicately engraved with patterns that shimmered in the light. Beverly stared at it, confused. “Mom… you know I already have a ring.” She lifted her left hand slightly; the gold wedding band Larry had slipped onto her finger on their wedding day glinting proudly.
Mrs. Lawson waved her hand dismissively. “This is different. A gift from me. A ring that shows my love for you. Humor me, my dear, try it on.”
Larry’s chest tightened, every nerve screaming at the insult hiding beneath the gesture. He forced a smile as Beverly hesitated, caught between her mother’s commanding gaze and the silent plea in her husband’s eyes. Finally, with a nervous laugh, Beverly slid the ring onto her finger, stacking it just above her wedding band.
“Perfect,” Mrs. Lawson declared, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “It suits you better.”
The air thickened with unspoken words. Before Larry could say anything, his phone buzzed with a message. Beverly leaned over. “Who’s that?”
“One of my clients,” Larry said quickly, slipping the phone back into his pocket.
Mrs. Lawson tilted her head, her eyes sharp. “Work, hmm? And what exactly is it that you’re working on these days?”
Larry sat up straighter. “I’m expanding my florist business, trying to partner with some interior decorators. More people are seeing the value of plants in their homes and offices.”
“Irritating,” Mrs. Lawson cut in smoothly, her voice cool. She dabbed her lips with a napkin. “But fine, if it keeps you occupied.”
Beverly shot her mother a warning glance, but before she could speak, Mrs. Lawson rose from her seat. “Beverly, dear, why don’t you fetch the dessert?”
Larry quickly stood. “No, I’ll get it.” He disappeared into the kitchen, grateful for the moment of escape.
The moment he was gone, Mrs. Lawson leaned across the table, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper. “You look around the city of Lagos, Beverly. And this… this is what you bring home? A man whose ambition begins and ends with loving plants?”
Beverly’s jaw tightened. “Mom, please”
“And worse,” Mrs. Lawson continued, relentlessly, “he parades around in your car as though it were his. A man who cannot even afford his own vehicle. Mark my words, Beverly when children come, you will regret tying yourself to him.”
From the kitchen doorway, Larry froze, holding the dessert tray. The words pierced him like knives, but he forced a smile as he returned to the table. Placing the plates carefully before them, he turned to Beverly with forced cheerfulness.
“Are you enjoying your meal, love?” he asked softly, though his heart felt heavy. Beverly smiled back, but she could see the pain in his eyes.
Later that night, on the drive home, silence filled the car. The city lights of Lagos blurred past, but Larry’s focus remained on the road, his jaw set, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.
“I told you I wasn’t invited to that dinner,” Larry finally said, his voice quiet but steady. “You only brought me there so your mother could insult me.”
Beverly turned sharply toward him. “No, baby, that’s not true.” She reached for his arm, her voice trembling. “I would never set you up for that. I thought it would be a family dinner.”
Larry’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Family dinner? She gave you a new ring, Beverly. Do you even realize what that meant?”
Beverly’s throat tightened. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”
Larry exhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling as though he were holding back tears. “At the end of the day, she’s still your mother. I won’t fight with her. But Beverly…” His voice cracked before he steadied it again. “…it hurts.”
Beverly placed her hand on his, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m sorry. Truly sorry.”
Larry gave a small smile saying it’s fine, his eyes glassy. He kissed her hand tenderly and whispered, “It’s fine.” But inside, he felt the weight of humiliation pressing harder.
A few days later, Larry sat across from his longtime friend, Sam, in a busy restaurant. The scent of roasted fish and spices filled the air as a potential client joined them at the table.
Sam grinned, patting Larry’s back.
smiled politely, laying out his tablet to show photos of his lush floral designs, gardens, and indoor plant arrangements. “Plants don’t just beautify spaces,” he explained, “they bring life, fresh air, and calm. For homes, hotels, and offices it’s about creating an atmosphere.”
The client’s eyes lit up as Larry spoke with passion. “This is impressive. I think this could work.”
Larry’s heart raced with hope. “Thank you. I’ll send you a proposal.”
As they shook hands, Sam leaned toward Larry. “This is big, bro. Your time is coming.”
Larry nodded, but a flicker of doubt remained in his heart, shadows of Mrs. Lawson’s cruel words haunting him.
One afternoon, Beverly sat in her office, flipping through reports, when the door opened. Larry entered, carrying a food pack.
“I thought you might need lunch,” he said warmly.
Her face lit up as he set the meal on her desk. “You’re a lifesaver.” She took a bite, laughing as he teased her about the way she ate. Just as he leaned over to kiss her, the door swung open.
Mrs. Lawson swept in, accompanied by a tall man in a fine agbada.
“Chief, I’m glad you’ve decided to work with us again,” she said, her smile wide.
“Mom” Beverly began, standing to introduce Larry. “This is my husband”
Mrs. Lawson cut her off smoothly, gesturing dismissively toward Larry. “Oh, just the errand boy bringing lunch. Don’t mind him.”
The words hit Larry like a slap. His throat tightened as the Chief glanced at him with mild curiosity before turning back to Mrs. Lawson.
Beverly froze, her face flushing with embarrassment. “Mom, that’s not”
“Come, Beverly,” Mrs. Lawson interrupted, “the Chief and I have a meeting.”
Beverly hesitated, torn between correcting her mother and following her lead. She gave Larry an apologetic glance before walking out with them. Larry stood motionless, his pride shattered, his presence dismissed as though he were invisible.
That evening, Larry slumped on the couch at Sam’s place, gripping a game controller but hardly paying attention to the PS5 screen.
“You won’t believe what happened today,” Larry said bitterly. “That woman called me an errand boy. Right in front of Beverly. In front of her client.”
Sam paused the game, his jaw tightening. “What? That’s not even funny. And Beverly? What did she do?”
Larry’s silence spoke volumes.
“Don’t tell me she just stood there,” Sam muttered. “Bro, you can’t let this continue. You’ve got to set boundaries.”
Larry leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “You don’t understand. That woman is intimidating. The way she looks at me… like I don’t belong.”
Sam’s voice softened. “I know. But this won’t last forever. Once your first big project kicks off, everything will change. People respect results. And then, she’ll have no choice but to respect you too.”
Larry closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I hope so, Sam. Because right now, I’m drowning in disrespect.
- Writer
