A Strange State of Affairs Ch. 10

“Fye!!”

            The sharp cry cut through the milling crowd.  Fye’s eyes quickly scanned the mob and spotted Pona a few feet away.

            He walked through the crush of people, greeting them as he passed.  Pona waited, a striking figure in a slinky black evening gown with a slit up the right side exposing a slim bronze leg up to the thigh.  Her hair was piled artfully on top of her head, and she smiled at him with bloody lips as she handed him a flute of frothy wine.

            Fye accepted it gratefully.  “So, where’s Vert?”

            “Bathroom,” Pona replied.  Her eyes sparkled.  “We’ve just set the date for the wedding, and we’re mailing invites out next week.”  Her cheeks flamed against her copper skin.

            “Is that a blush I see?” Fye teased.

            Pona swatted his shoulder, and they both chuckled.

            “…so, what seems to be the most popular attraction today?” he asked her.

            Pona motioned with a hand towards a painting on the wall, an abstract of the beach at night which he had done with a handful of sand and some watercolors.  “This one, and also the cubist one - I think it’s down the hall.”  She paused to greet a group of people.

            “Riyel came by last night,” Fye murmured to her once she returned to their conversation.

            “I know,” Pona replied, “Ready for tomorrow?”

            “I guess,” Fye huffed.  He brushed a strand of hair from his eyes and tugged at his crisp elbow-length white dress shirt.

            “Her father’s one of the sponsors of this show, you know.”  Pona took a sip from her wineglass.  “You could do worse.”

            “Let’s not talk about this right now,” Fye spoke hastily.  He paused to greet a group of people.  “Pona?”

            When he turned around, she was gone.

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            Pona faced the mirror and tugged at the bodice of her evening gown.

            A toilet flushed somewhere, and a stall door opened.

            The woman excused herself �" Pona was blocking the sink.  She obligingly moved and continued fixing her gown when she noticed that the woman washing her hands looked slightly familiar.

            “Sherry?”

            The woman looked up.  Her hair, pale and straight, draped over her face.  She swatted the strands away.  “Pona?!”

            The women squealed and embraced one another.

            “So, tomorrow?”  Pona held Sherry out at arm’s length and closely scrutinized her gown.

            “Yes!!  I’m so nervous,” Sherry gushed, “Is he here?”  Her voice quavered.

            “Yeah.  I think he’s in the West Wing looking at a piece by Raphy Guerrero.  Are you going to see him?” Pona asked.

            Sherry blushed and nodded vigorously.  Her white hair flapped back and forth with her enthusiasm.

            Pona grinned widely, uncontrollably.  “Remember what I told to you talk about.”  She winked at Sherry, who nodded and left the room.

            Pona smiled dreamily and turned back toward the mirror.  She wondered if Fye was partial to a double wedding.