and pinned her posters on the display stand.
A few curious guests moved in for a closer look.
Mary routinely answered all the usual questions about the team, and the orphanage and its gymnastic activities and how it benefited the kids and the community. All the while, she was distributing the promotional cards with a lovely warm smile radiating from her inspired face.
“Oh, look how adorable this rosary is!” Praised a middle-aged lady, wearing a billowing golden yellow dress. She took one of the hand-made artifacts for a closer look.
On seeing an oncoming reporter, so as not to miss a trick, she struck an elegant pose and wrote a cheque. Now the camera was forthcoming, so she showed the evidence of a generous contribution to the reporter, who then decided it was worth taking her picture before she put the cheque in the donation box.
“God Bless you!” said Mary. “Our girls are making these as part of our campaign,” she explained. “Each rosary is unique.”
“Nice, very nice.” The lady nodded. She bent toward the girl and added almost inaudibly; “Let me tell you, dear, your dress is also unique.”
“I know!” Mary smiled with pleasure, taking it as a compliment, not seeing the woman’s eyes rolling when she turned and looked disapproving at her husband. Mary’s heart was singing. Choking on the euphoria of such a positive comment, the girl slowly sucked in a deep lungful of air to regain her composure.
Soon the attention of everybody was drawn away from her to other newcomers.
“Now I can relax,” Mary mumbled, sitting down, elegantly posed on the chair.
She looked around with a burning, youthful curiosity. She had attended such parties before, but only as a performer.
How the other half lives, she mused, taking in the luxuriant scene.
It all seemed busier than it really was. Decorated with various plants and assorted flowers, all a differing shade of yellow, the reception area in which she was seated was surprisingly small.
Numerous sponsors’ logos were on display everywhere. Spokesmen and women gushed eloquently about what their companies were and weren’t doing to change the lot of the world’s less fortunate. It was a good advert for the organizers; everybody was winning that night.
Aside from the displays, Mary adored a small orchestra, playing soft romantic background music. The tender sounds flowed over the highbrow proceedings, adding to the impression of a fairytale.
Men in tuxedos, and women in evening dresses in assorted restrained colors were walking around, stopping at tables, sounding interested before moving on to mingle and pose. The groups of guests were flitting around like figures in a golden light brown kaleidoscope.
Suddenly, Mary noticed a thirty-something brunette in a figure-hugging neutral colored gown, staring at her, and Mary wondered; Why such an unfriendly look?
A man, in his sixties, stubby yet imposing and dignified came to her table. Mary stood up, and smiled friendly.
A reporter had followed him and was hovering, expectant.
The elderly man glanced at him with visible displeasure, sighed and shoved some bills into the donation box. Feeling that something was awry, Mary kept silent, holding her welcoming expression.
The reporter moved on to another group of circulating guests, and the man turned to Mary.
“Miss Jablonskaia, if I’m not mistaken?” he asked the perplexed girl, who nodded, unsure how else to reply.
“Do you know that your dating Mister Noirson could cause some trouble?” he said unexpectedly. Mary’s heart stopped for a second.
“I… I don’t understand…” she managed to squeeze out finally.
“Too bad.” Not bothering to explain a thing, he left, and Mary’s shoulders visibly drooped under the weight of such a shock.
What did he mean? she was thinking, panicking. Who is he? How does he know about us? What kind of trouble? For Robert? Oh dear God, no! Or for me? I don’t care about that. I’m not afraid. She hesitated. Or am I? Oh Robert, where are you? I so need your support right now…
“Nice dress.” Mary heard an irritated female voice, and lifted her head. It was the same “gazing” lady that Mary had spotted before. Now she was standing next to the table, still drilling into the girl’s heart with obvious anger in her eyes.
“I thought it was the only one,” the lady said. “But as I remember it was taupe.”
How does she know about the dress? Mary wondered.
“You are right,” she answered calmly. “But you know, I can’t actually afford to buy a collection dress.”
“But your lover surely can,” the lady said, smiling. She saw Mary’s eyes widen. “So, he ordered a copy, didn’t he? Who chose that ugly color? It matches your mane about as well as an omelet goes with green onion!”
“I would never have imagined that a respectable woman like you could have such bad manners.” Mary replied, puzzled.
“Oh, cute, and while we are talking manners, look who’s talking!” The lady quietly laughed. “You’re the sophisticated one who dressed up in screaming-green on the pastel themed party! In all the invitations it said clearly about the dress code!”
Now Mary was stricken. She looked around, and to her horror she realized that the lady was absolutely right. It was like beige heaven for as far as the eye could see, and only she, Maria Jablonskaia, debutante elect, was wearing a brightly colored outfit.
“Why?” the lady continued scornfully. “Is it a rebellious streak in you, or are you just plain illiterate? If you didn’t know the meaning the word ‘pastel’, why didn’t you ask your lover? By the way, where is Robert?” Her smile remained but the tone of her voice was changing. “I guess, he’s probably ashamed to show up with such brilliant under age baby gem like you. How much are you charging him per hour for your services, by the way?”
Mary was unable to say a thing with spasm seizing her throat.
“I’m here on my own,” she barely managed to utter. “I’m not an escort, either, if that’s what you are insinuating. I am twenty-one already, and I’m here to present my team.”
“And you have done a pretty bad job of that, you poor incompetent thing,” the lady said, moving away.
Mary almost fell onto her chair. A passing waiter offered her a cocktail, and she mechanically took it.
“Are you all right?” The hostess of the event approached Mary. “Did Laura offend you? She’s a little cranky today. She badly wanted to buy a dress, the very same designer dress that you’re wearing, in fact. But someone had already bought it. She was even ready to order a copy, just so she could be the first one to show up in it. But you trumped her plans.”
“I’m sorry, it seems to have upset her so much,” Mary mumbled, thinking; I can only imagine their shock if they knew that it IS the original dress!
Mary got up and smiled. “I’m okay, thank you.”
The hostess nodded and headed off to mingle and mix with some of the other guests.
“Why is such a sweet girl looking so upset?” Mary looked up and studied the speaker, a male, middle aged, not very tall, (which is what she liked in a man) thin and slender, clean-shaven, with brown hair and light blue eyes.
He browsed the orphanage’s promotional material, then looked at her with a friendly smile.
“Never mind, sorry,” Mary said politely, at the same time thinking in a less respectful way, He’s not a wealthy person for sure. Look at his tux! I bet he rented it.
“If