Iheld my hand out to Shannon to help him out of the limo. Lightbulbs flashed as paparazzi took pictures of the glittering stars of the socialite world arriving for one of the biggest charity galas of the Christmas season. My parents stood on the carpet just ahead, having arrived in a separate limo.
“Who’s that?” I heard someone ask.
“That’s their son. He was at the hospital thing I covered last night. He almost died in an accident, so they gave that large endowment to the hospital he was at,” someone else replied.
We stood, turned to allow for photos, waving. My new dad tilted his head almost imperceptibly, and we followed him and my mom inside. Once through the doors, we waited a few minutes while Mom checked her wrap into the coat check. Then we ascended a lovely staircase, with handmade terrazzo tile steps and wrought iron railing. The top led to a broad landing, with two double doors on each side of the balustraded hallways. The doors both led to the same massive room. Dad read the list of names next to one of them and found our table listing.
“Our table is closest to the door on the other side,” he said.
“Let’s go in through this one, though. That way, we can make our way through the room, greeting people as we find our seats,” Mom suggested. He offered her his arm then, and I did the same for Shannon, and we sailed in through the doorway.
The inside of the room was a veritable wonderland. Tables with white table and gold tablecloths, live Christmas trees of every size along the walls and side tables, while miniature ones on the dining tables graced the center space. Glass bowls the size of baseballs hung from the ceiling, each one with a miniature snow globe scene inside and lit by a warm LED bulb.
“Oh, wow,” Shannon breathed, reaching inside his breast pocket for his phone. “Hang on, I have got to take pictures of this and send them to my sister and mom.”
We waited patiently for him to snap his wanted photos. I smiled at him indulgently, the purity of his sense of delight so intoxicating that I had to rein it in before I did more than letting it lick at my senses.
“Okay, that’s enough for now. I’ll take more later, we can’t block everyone from moving around,” he finally said.
We began to move the crowd, Mom and Dad greeting people, shaking their hands, and exchanging air-kisses. I was introduced to people whose names I had no hope in hell remembering. Thank fuck I could beg short-term memory loss issues if I forgot someone who thought they were important.
Then we were at our table, where we found both Henry and Rusty with their dates, as well as their parents. Introductions were made and I bowed over the girls’ hands and kissed them. Henry’s date, Mary, was a pretty brown haired girl with good old-fashioned curves. She was a stark contrast to Rusty’s companion for the evening, Cindy, who looked like a stiff breeze could knock her over.
Cindy was a giggler, as it turned out. She giggled as I kissed her hand, then giggled some more when I introduced Shannon, who also kissed their hands. She giggled when my dad gave a little bow, and she giggled when Mom said how lovely it was to meet them both. Both Rusty and his parents looked at her with expressions of varying degrees of annoyance, while Mary gave her a dismissive side-eye.
I was grateful that my place card was next to Mary and not Cindy, though she was only two seats away. We had no sooner sat down than she leaned across poor Henry and asked me, “Don’t you find these dinners just awful? So many courses and the desserts have so many carbs!”
Rusty gritted his teeth. This was so not a match made in heaven; she was a walking, talking stereotype. I hoped for his sake that this was not his official, final pairing.
“I’m going to go see if the Father Christmas has arrived,” Mom said, making a getaway.
“I’ll come with you,” Henry’s mother said.
“I’m terribly excited about the costume,” I heard Mom say as the two women walked away. “It’s one of those Victorian caped Father Christmases.”
Dad beamed at the table. “Sorry about that, I’m sure they’ll be right back. She’s on the committee and the Santa was her particular task.”
“I’m sure it will be fantastic,” Henry’s mother reassured Dad.
“So, what do you think about the docklands project?” his father asked mine.
“I think the surrounding area needs significant investment into infrastructure and general regeneration before proceeding. I’ve been looking at how they did it in San Francisco, and while they had a good result, the Albert Dock area in Liverpool, England, and its impact on that side of the city as a whole is much more impressive to me. I’d like to set up a conference with the Liverpool city planners and architects who have been involved in that project and subsequent ones in the area.”
“A trip to experience the various locations might be in order. If visiting the U.K., Cardiff would be worthwhile too, I think,” Henry’s father continued.
“Mmmm, yes, Mermaid Quay,” Dad agreed. “London’s Canary Wharf, as well.”
Great, they were talking business, which sounded interesting and all, but it had Cindy’s eyes glazing over. That was not a good thing as she sat there, pouting.
“I’ve got to go to the restroom,” Rusty said, getting up.” If you’ll excuse me.”
“Wait, I’ll come, too,” Cindy called after him.
“She probably thinks she’ll get him alone in a corner,” Mary muttered. She studied her nails, looking bored.
“Ah, here comes Mom now,” Henry said.
“You’ve outdone yourself this year,” Henry’s mother said.
