The time had come to lay down the law with my brother. The trouble started not long after my wife, Bec, died of cancer. Vic called one morning when I’d been staring into memories, and less than a minute into the conversation he asked about Bec’s diamond ring. He and Claudia, his wife, had been wondering if I had any plans for it. Bec knew Claudia loved the ring’s design, and it occurred to me that Claudia could claim they’d made an agreement, perhaps when Bec was near the end, that Claudia would inherit it. Bec hadn’t mentioned an agreement, but if Claudia said there’d been one how could I be sure it wasn’t true? I considered this irritating possibility before telling Vic I had no plans to do anything with the ring. He waited for me to say more, and I waited for him to say more, dreading where he might lead us. I ended the silence by saying I couldn’t take the idea of anyone else wearing Bec’s ring. Not ever? he asked. I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to push me. I said I’d talk to him about it at some point, but not now. Vic agreed and quickly got off the phone.

Also on their minds was their view of my supposed decline. I admit I get muddled and spend too much time sorting through my thoughts, a process that seems to lead nowhere. I’m seventy-six, five years older than Vic, eight years older than Claudia. I could tell they didn’t trust me to find my way around my own head, let alone the world around me. I’d gotten confused a couple of times while driving and had to call them for directions, and I’ve had trouble remembering names and sometimes forget why I’ve walked into a room, but most people we know have the same problem. Even before he brought up the ring, Vic had begun dropping by to see how I was doing, often with some food prepared by Claudia. I appreciated the food, but Vic often looked into my eyes as if toward a remote horizon. We had disagreements about my ability to cope on my own, like the day he noticed I’d forgotten to turn off the coffeemaker. He said I could have burned down the house, and I said it was a mistake that could have happened to anyone.

Two months or more went by with no mention of the ring. I could see in their eyes they were waiting for me to bring it up. Wearied by the suspense, I told Vic one day when he’d come by with a chicken dish that if I died before he did, Claudia could have the ring. What if I die before you do and Claudia survives us? he asked. I complained that they’d put a lot of thought into getting Bec’s ring. He shrugged, still expecting a reply. Claudia should root for me to die first, I said. He shook his head, resenting my answer.

The worst was the day he appeared and asked where I kept my will and how to get into my safe. He said he needed to know in case something happened to me or I forgot the combination. I said it was up to me to tell him what I wanted to tell him, and I didn’t like him coming to me with these questions.

Who else are you going to tell? he asked, failing to respect my side of it.

I don’t need to tell anyone yet, I answered.

Do you think we’re going to sneak in here and empty your safe?

Don’t try to talk me into a corner, I said. My safe is my safe and this decision is not up to you.

Will you just tell me this then? he went on. Is Claudia’s ring in the safe?

Claudia’s ring? There is no Claudia’s ring anywhere in this house.

You know what I mean.

Yes, I do. And I am now concluding this discussion.

More head shaking followed from Vic. I wanted to punch him to change its direction.

I didn’t see Vic for a while, but he didn’t need to be around for my mind to turn to him. Did he and Claudia sit around talking about what they’d do with my stuff when I died? Had they made a list of items they wanted to keep and those they could sell off? It disgusted me to think of them ghoulishly waiting for me to die when I could live another ten or fifteen years or more. I needed to show them I wasn’t dead yet.

I drove to the same jeweler who’d made Bec’s ring. It wasn’t far, and I had no difficulty finding the place. I needed a special gift, I said, a diamond ring. He showed me some stones he had on hand and we settled on a simple design. The ring would be ready in time for a birthday Claudia had coming up. It didn’t have near the presence of Bec’s ring, but what was she going to say?

The jeweler finished the ring on schedule and I kept it locked in my safe beside Bec’s ring until the day came. I rehearsed what I’d say to them, just to be sure I struck the right tone, nothing overheated, nothing to do with rerouting buzzards or them smacking their lips. I had qualms but insisted to myself it was what they deserved.

I went to their place the morning of Claudia’s birthday, figuring it was a little too early for them to be out running errands. They looked relieved to see me and were appreciative I’d remembered. I presented the small wrapped box, which they noticed was the shape that would hold a ring. Claudia gasped and a tear came to Vic’s eye.

As she unwrapped the box Vic stepped toward me and put his hand on my shoulder, his stomach more globular than I remembered. When she turned the lid up, her face changed. Vic dropped his hand, went to her, and they stared at the ring. Their mouths hung open.

Since I intend to live a lot longer, I said, maybe longer than Vic, I decided it would be fair to give you this ring instead of Bec’s. It’s best for all of us not to have Bec’s ring, which is special to me, looming over us.

Claudia was speechless and seemed hesitant to touch her ring.

Instead of? Vic asked.

Right. I’ll be keeping Bec’s ring.

What will you do with it?

That’s my business, I said.

Do you want this ring? Vic asked Claudia.

It will remind me of the other one. I don’t know what to say.

Wear it, I said as I left them. It’s a nice ring.

I made a wrong turn on my way back to the house but soon got myself on track. I haven’t heard a word from them since.