Mingling & Tingling
Mateo
The crystals sewn into Holly’s red dress sparkle under the chandeliers in the ballroom. Her dress hugs her waist before flowing to the floor with a skirt that swooshes out when she twirls. I might have snuck a look at home. I was brushing my teeth but I couldn’t resist peeking out my door to see Holly twirling down the hallway in her dress. I’m starting to think Holly enjoys dressing up, and the fancy clothes, but not so much the social aspects. She looked so carefree at home, twirling about like a princess. Here, her shoulders are stiff and her smile is fake.
I want carefree Holly back.
This ball is supposed to raise awareness about homelessness but seems to be a competition about who can donate the most money. I watched Holly write her check. She donated a large amount and I had to hide my shock at how many zeros were on the check. My small contribution nags at me. I don’t have zeros in my bank account. I’m debt-free, and I have a nice nest egg, but nowhere near enough to donate like Holly has.
The longer we’re here the more I want to leave. The constant comparison and game of bragging about the donation amount is straining my nerves.
We’ve talked to a few celebrity clients of Holly’s who are here. Each of them bragged about how much they donated. She took careful notes on her phone, and reassured her clients that she'd leak the amount to specific presses in order to help their generous and charitable images.
Somehow that makes it feel less like a sacrifice to donate.
Just another way our upbringings differ, increasing the fear I’ve been ignoring, that I won’t ever fit into Holly’s life.
Growing up, donating was always a sacrifice to help those in need. It was never about the amount, but about meeting a need. I don’t remember my parents ever telling me the final amounts of our savings.
This feels wrong.
I pull at the collar of my suit and readjust my tie, having zoned out from the conversation Holly is having with a client some time ago.
I’m shocked when the group dissolves and Holly’s real smile and happy voice emerges. “Rodney, I didn’t know you’d be here.”
A man of average height, and about my dad's age approaches Holly. His hair is salt and peppered, and his suit screams money. I don’t know how clothes can talk, but these ones are definitely chattin’ about how perfectly dry-cleaned and expensive they are.
“Ah, Holly. I should have known you’d be here.” His eyes harden as he looks at me. “Glad you could bring the fake husband to play up the love act.”
My dislike of this man is immediate. I was going to give him a chance after he set Holly up with Jorge, but he just ruined it.
Holly goes rigid and I step up next to her, resting my hand on the small of her back. “Rodney, don’t say things like that.”
The man scoffs. “What? We all know this isn’t a real marriage. Why would you settle for this farmer?” Rodney swirls his wine glass before taking a sip.
Oh, this won’t do at all. Time to pull out all the stops.
My hand moves from the small of Holly’s back to her waist, pulling herto my side. “Aw shucks, I didn’ realize Holly never told nobody about how we’ve known each other for a while. She took pity on my farm boy self when I confessed I was in love with her. Who might’n you be? You one of Holly’s clients? Ya know she’s real good at her job.”
He sputters, his lips flapping as if he can’t find words to respond. Makes me wonder how much wine he’s had.
I can see Holly biting her lip out of the corner of my eye. She turns to me, her eyes flashing with consternation. I’ll figure that out later.
Rodney finally composes himself. Stands up straighter and clears his throat. “I’m Rodney, Holly’s mentor when it comes to being a public relations manager and for navigating the elite society. She’s been under my wing since Alex first brought her to events.” He turns his nose up at me as if I smell like manure.
I have it on good authority that I don’t. The name brand cologne I found in my bathroom, courtesy of my wife, tells me otherwise.
I slap my thigh. “Well now, I love me a good adoptive parent. I’ve got me an adopted grandpa back home. Name's Hud. That man is a hoot and holler for sure. Can spin a yarn like no other, and has a romantic heart. Ya know, he’s the one who told me I might have a chance with my Holly. Are you sure Holly needs a mentor? She’s darn successful. My girl has held her own for the past two hours talkin’ with her clients.” I lean forward conspiratorially, only to have Rodney lean backward. “I’m tellin’ ya, not only is Holly the prettiest woman I know, but she’s the smartest one too.”
Holly’s elbow meets my kidneys. Okay, maybe I’m laying the farm boy accent on a little thick. It’s been a long time since I’ve played the dumb farm boy act. I’m enjoying it, and how it’s taking me back to being at the university and talking to people with closed minds and stereotypes as their truth.
But I wasn’t joking about her being the prettiest and smartest woman I know.
Rodney clears his throat again and takes a sip of his wine. “Ah well, sheis quite spectacular. Too bad she couldn’t find someone with the same… accolades to marry.”
Oh no he didn’t. But I got this.
“Well now, I’m not so sure I’ve ever had any of those accolades things, man that is such a big word. Holly is the best thing that’s ever happen’d to me. She’s even better than a summer day pickin’ cherries and smellen’ the sweet scent of fresh fruit and animals on the farm. Ya ever been on a farm in the summer, Rodney? It’s a memory you’ll never forget, but my Holly is better than all of that beauty.”
