THE RING

My father kept Granny’s diamond ring on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet in his bathroom next to a blue jar of anti-itching cream. I saw it through the glass shelf whenever I slid the cabinet open for toothpaste. The ring haunted me. It promised no shallow glitter of rhinestones. The sparkling diamonds were mysterious and inviting. The ring had a voice and the voice said, “Take my diamonds.” I resisted. I’d learned Thou Shalt Not Steal at school. One night I couldn’t resist—I climbed u...