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‘That’s a wonderful observation.’ Miranda was in awe of Liz’s unwavering ability to describe the wonder in any given situation.
‘You’re matching the decor tonight, Miranda, you look beautiful!’
‘Gee, thanks Liz! I had a bit of insider knowledge on the decoration plans,’ she said with a wink.
‘Oh, and this is my husband, Greg.’ Liz gestured to the tall man with a soft smile standing by her side.
‘Nice to meet you, Greg.’ Miranda shook his hand.
‘Likewise. Did you have a nice Christmas?’
‘The best.’ She grinned. ‘And you?’
Greg turned to his wife. ‘I think it was one of our best too, do you agree?’
Miranda found it cute when couples always checked their opinions with each other.
Liz nodded. ‘Every Christmas is a gift. We actually spent it under the stars, in a tent!’ She slid her arm around her husband. ‘Then a family picnic at the lake. It was simple and perfect.’
‘Sounds lovely. Though the closest I’d get to camping would be sleeping on the floor inside my house!’ Miranda almost squirmed at the thought of sleeping outdoors. She had gone before as a child, but, you know – bugs, strange sounds, potential rain, questionable bathroom facilities – too much stress. Then again, the idea of sleeping under the stars with Matt … mmm … maybe shecouldbe persuaded.
‘Anyway, looks like we’re getting started, I better get to my seat. You have a wonderful evening.’ Liz touched Miranda’s arm.
‘You too. I might see you on the dance floor.’
‘Absolutely!’ Liz turned to her husband. ‘We could put those old dance lessons to good use, darling.’ They smiled at each other and scurried off as the MC cleared his throat.
Matt stood and held the chair out for Miranda. She smiled and thanked him, as a middle-aged couple, obviously Mr and Mrs Bannister, took their seats between Miranda and Trisha.
‘Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the twelfth annual Harbourside Towers New Year’s Eve Charity Ball!’ the MC said in a drawn-out voice, the ends of his words tapering gradually to an inaudible stop. ‘Entrées will be served momentarily, while you enjoy the live music. Before the main meal is served, we’ll award the winners of our lucky door prizes, and between dinner and dessert, we’ll begin the charity auction. After your delightful three course meal, our DJ for this evening will take over the music, and I expect to see you all on the dance floor celebrating the impending countdown to the New Year!’ The MC raised his hands. ‘Without further ado, please welcome our guest performer, James Favoli!’ He stepped back, clapping, making way on the stage for a broad-shouldered man with wavy black hair, and three back-up singers. The music started, and James began his rendition of the Black Eyed Peas’ song: ‘I Gotta Feeling’. Yes, tonight was going to be a good night, Miranda could feel it.
‘He looks a bit like that opera singer, what’s his name?’ Gordon Bannister spoke up. ‘Um...’
‘Pavarotti?’ Barbara Bannister suggested.
‘No, not that one. Um ... Oh yeah – Domingo! Placebo Domingo!’ He clicked his fingers in the air.
‘NotPlacebo,darling,Placido!’ His wife laughed.
‘What did I say?Placebo?’
Barbara nodded, and Gordon slapped his thigh with a guffaw. ‘Placebo! Ha! He onlythinkshe can sing!’
Barbara leaned back in a fit of laughter. ‘Oh, Gordon, that’s a good one!’
‘The placebo effect – get it?’ Gordon glanced at everyone around the table to make sure they’d caught on to his humour, before breaking into a fit of laughter himself. Trisha lifted a hand to her ear, as she was seated next to Gordon and his loud laughter, if you could call it that. With a cacophony of primal-sounding gurgles, growls, and snorts, he sounded like a caveman with a bad case of sinusitis.
Matt looked at Miranda and swallowed a laugh, and they welcomed the distraction of the waitress placing their entrées on the table. Scallop and avocado salad with honey-lime dressing got Miranda salivating, and Shane commented on how the balance of acidity and sweetness in the meal was just right. Trisha said he was always like that; providing commentary on every meal they ate when out, even at their wedding. Shane defended himself, saying once you become a chef you never eat a meal the same way again. Upon hearing Shane was a chef, Pete mentioned his idea for selling his homemade white sauce, and the two exchanged details with Shane promising to do a taste test.
‘That was delicious,’ Miranda and Matt said at the same time once their entrée was devoured. Laughing, they glanced towards the Bannisters. Gordon was helping himself to Barbara’s entrée, having finished his own.Barbara scolded him, slapping him on the wrist and sliding her bowl away from him.
‘Think of your indigestion, Gordon,’ his wife said. ‘You don’t want to overeat.’
If his laugh/sinusitis was anything to go by, Miranda hated to think what his indigestion would sound like. Wondering if she’d made a mistake switching their name tags with David and India’s, she glanced over at the nearby table.Nup. Six dazed faces stared blankly at David as he spoke, occasionally putting his hand on India’s back while she giggled. One of the guests nodded in feigned interest, while another kept checking the time on his watch. The Bannisters, although unique characters, appeared the lesser of two evils.
‘If I could have everyone’s attention, please.’ The MC commanded the stage again, after the entrées had been cleared from the tables. ‘It’s time to award our three lucky door prize winners. First up, we have a dinner for two here at Harbourside Towers Restaurant to give away. And the winner is ... Mr Rodney Davidson!’
A man appearing to be in his forties raised a victorious fist, and went up on stage to collect his prize coupon.
