“The next item is number 112, a sapphire and diamond ring,” Chet announced, consulting the paperwork in front of him on the podium. He went on to extol the virtues of the ring, seeking to elicit as much interest as he could.

I looked at Jeannean. She looked at me. “You bid,” she said, handing me the numbered piece of 5″x7″ cardboard. I took it. Now I was in a serious soul searching situation. How much was I willing to bid? How high would I have to bid to demonstrate to Jeannean that I had made a good faith effort to get the ring for her? Why didn’t she just do the bidding? I knew the answer.

A common ploy of auctioneers is to try to start an item’s bidding at a high price, hoping to sucker in a novice. When no one bites, the auctioneer then drops the starting bid until someone jumps in. After that the bidding escalates quickly. If the auctioneer knows his stuff, the item usually goes for near or slightly over what the auctioneer originally proposed for a starting bid.

Chet doesn’t work that way. He starts the bidding at a reasonably low price and lets the audience work it up. He started the ring at $250. The bidding was in $25 increments.

Buyers at auctions have personal bidding strategies. Some like to get into the bidding early, seemingly anxious not to be left out. Personally, I like to wait until the bidding has started and gotten to the point where there seems to be no more bidders. That’s when I jump in.

I pursued my normal strategy that day, all the short while sensing Jeannean’s anxiety at my failure to bid early. Her own bidding style was to jump into the fray early.

The bidding for the ring was quickly at $425 before it slowed. I waited. Jeannean nudged me. I shot the card into the air for a bid of $450. As I did, I prayed that the last bidder was at their limit.

No such luck! Someone bid $475. I bid $500. It took only a little encouragement from the auctioneer to get a $525 bid

Biting my lip I raised my bidder’s card again.

“I have a $550 bid,” Chet announced, pointing in my direction. He scanned the room for other bidders. Seeing none, he said after a second, “I only have $550 bid on a ring appraised for $2500. Think of what you’re missing. Do I have a $575 bid. $575 anywhere?”

“Damn you, Chet,” I thought, “Shut up.”

Again Chet paused, giving the audience time to consider.

Not seeing any bids, and hoping to stimulate one, Chet slowly called out “Going once… Going twice…..” I felt Jeannean’s tense grip on my hand.

At last, after eons of stalling, Chet announced those beautiful words, “Sold for $550.”

A mild anxiety and a tidal wave of relief passed through me. $550 was a lot of money for a ring. But, the stress of the bidding was over. I’d won. She had her ring. I didn’t have to face disappointing her again. That alone was well worth the money.

There was no sense in staying for the rest of the auction. We had gotten the only thing we really wanted.

I wrote a $643.50 check for the ring, which included tax and the 10% bidder’s fee. As I did, the ladies behind the counter commented to Jeannean on what a lovely ring it was and how wonderful that I had bought it for her. I made it a point of telling them that she was worth it.

We left with Jeannean unable to take her eyes or attention off of the ring. Frequently, she held her arm out, hand up, to admire what was the most beautiful piece of jewelry she had ever owned.

And so, my betrayal was vindicated. Jeannean said it was okay that I leave the next day for the East Coast. She had her ring to keep her company on her birthday and many times thereafter. I had my warm loving wife back again. At least I had her back for the three remaining months of her life.

The End