high enough to attract a few bodies to the dance floor. Lighting is low, bouncing and painting each face in a warm yellowed hue.
We enter greeting faces of past class mates and school mates. Some faces familiar, others unrecognizable. Sam keeps his hand at my waist barely allowing room for hellos and handshakes, let alone hugs. I should’ve told him he doesn’t need to stick himself at my side all night. That is just for Patricia.
Stopping by the bar, we order drinks. Sam, a scotch on the rocks, me, a mai tai.
I look around searching for Patricia when I notice Max heading in the direction of the bathrooms. I don’t remember going to school with him and he’s not in a relationship if memory serves right. He could be someone’s date, though. I shrug off thoughts of Max, returning to the thoughts of Patricia, looking over the entire banquet hall for her.
Sam excuses himself to the bathroom. To freshen up I assume.
I take a sip of the drink and search for an empty table from a vantage point where I can survey the whole banquet hall. The alcohol enhanced sweetness makes it way down my throat, gliding before settling in my belly. The search is cut short by an unfortunate familiar voice.
“Sandra Pennington. It is still Pennington, isn’t it?”
Oh, heaven, help me. I swing around to meet her lone figure slithering in from the shadows. She’s beautiful, as usual, and the way her aqua and burnt orange dress melts into her curves makes me hate her a little bit more.
Patricia moves across the room toward our table, swaying her hips like a runway model. I bet even when she’s past sixty she’ll still be totally stacked and circled by old guys like a cherry red mustang at a Vegas car show. Pity, her face never caught up to her body’s beauty. No, not pity. That’s luck.
I summon a smile, hoping it’ll defuse the bomb her cloying figure lit. “Hello, Patricia. Yes, it’s Pennington, but how are you this fine evening.”
Her left shoulder rises and falls in a shrug. “Oh, what can I say, darling, I am well. Life is perfect.”
Her adopted Southern drawl gets under my skin without hesitation.
An unwarranted laugh bubbles to the surface. “Oh! I trust by now you’ve heard that I’m married,” She briefly swings her head as if looking for someone before resting her left hand over her chest in mock sympathy. “You’re not here with anyone. Oh, how unfortunate.”
Her dazzling, dentist-enhanced smile portrays other emotions at my implied state of loneliness. “Is there no one Saming to pick you up after that guy, whatever his name is, dumped you over a year ago? Oh, but I’m sure you’ll find some poor, unfortunate soul to take you before you are thirty. Although you shouldn’t hold your breath hoping for something so improbable. Aim for forty. Then again, things Sam be sagging by then. Well, more than now.” Her eyes settle on my chest.
A tight-lipped smile graces my face stretching my lips are stretched out to form a straight line. Inhale and exhale. Inhale, hold and exhale. Deep breathing should be calming, but this isn’t working.
Patricia has always been an expressive person. However, with hands flailing at every word, I’m sure the actions are increased just for me to see her ring, throwing blinding lights around the hall.
I open my mouth to respond to her unfair and inaccurate accusations, but a deep and welcomed voice cuts in.
“Talking about me behind my back? That’s not good, Sandra. That can make a person feel bad.” Strolling, he might as well be Adonis, himself. Looks the part, for sure. Toned and enlarged muscles sit atop broad shoulders and back. A lean frame tapers to a narrow waist, flat stomach, and a well-proportioned ripped physique. I can’t even imagine what seeing him naked would do to me.
I hate when he stands beside me. We look like the letter ‘h’. Well, maybe not so bad. A few inches added, or subtracted might improve the sight. No, not subtracted,
We enter greeting faces of past class mates and school mates. Some faces familiar, others unrecognizable. Sam keeps his hand at my waist barely allowing room for hellos and handshakes, let alone hugs. I should’ve told him he doesn’t need to stick himself at my side all night. That is just for Patricia.
Stopping by the bar, we order drinks. Sam, a scotch on the rocks, me, a mai tai.
I look around searching for Patricia when I notice Max heading in the direction of the bathrooms. I don’t remember going to school with him and he’s not in a relationship if memory serves right. He could be someone’s date, though. I shrug off thoughts of Max, returning to the thoughts of Patricia, looking over the entire banquet hall for her.
Sam excuses himself to the bathroom. To freshen up I assume.
I take a sip of the drink and search for an empty table from a vantage point where I can survey the whole banquet hall. The alcohol enhanced sweetness makes it way down my throat, gliding before settling in my belly. The search is cut short by an unfortunate familiar voice.
“Sandra Pennington. It is still Pennington, isn’t it?”
Oh, heaven, help me. I swing around to meet her lone figure slithering in from the shadows. She’s beautiful, as usual, and the way her aqua and burnt orange dress melts into her curves makes me hate her a little bit more.
Patricia moves across the room toward our table, swaying her hips like a runway model. I bet even when she’s past sixty she’ll still be totally stacked and circled by old guys like a cherry red mustang at a Vegas car show. Pity, her face never caught up to her body’s beauty. No, not pity. That’s luck.
I summon a smile, hoping it’ll defuse the bomb her cloying figure lit. “Hello, Patricia. Yes, it’s Pennington, but how are you this fine evening.”
Her left shoulder rises and falls in a shrug. “Oh, what can I say, darling, I am well. Life is perfect.”
Her adopted Southern drawl gets under my skin without hesitation.
An unwarranted laugh bubbles to the surface. “Oh! I trust by now you’ve heard that I’m married,” She briefly swings her head as if looking for someone before resting her left hand over her chest in mock sympathy. “You’re not here with anyone. Oh, how unfortunate.”
Her dazzling, dentist-enhanced smile portrays other emotions at my implied state of loneliness. “Is there no one Saming to pick you up after that guy, whatever his name is, dumped you over a year ago? Oh, but I’m sure you’ll find some poor, unfortunate soul to take you before you are thirty. Although you shouldn’t hold your breath hoping for something so improbable. Aim for forty. Then again, things Sam be sagging by then. Well, more than now.” Her eyes settle on my chest.
A tight-lipped smile graces my face stretching my lips are stretched out to form a straight line. Inhale and exhale. Inhale, hold and exhale. Deep breathing should be calming, but this isn’t working.
Patricia has always been an expressive person. However, with hands flailing at every word, I’m sure the actions are increased just for me to see her ring, throwing blinding lights around the hall.
I open my mouth to respond to her unfair and inaccurate accusations, but a deep and welcomed voice cuts in.
“Talking about me behind my back? That’s not good, Sandra. That can make a person feel bad.” Strolling, he might as well be Adonis, himself. Looks the part, for sure. Toned and enlarged muscles sit atop broad shoulders and back. A lean frame tapers to a narrow waist, flat stomach, and a well-proportioned ripped physique. I can’t even imagine what seeing him naked would do to me.
I hate when he stands beside me. We look like the letter ‘h’. Well, maybe not so bad. A few inches added, or subtracted might improve the sight. No, not subtracted,
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