Buffie couldn’t stop smiling. She was on cloud nine. She and Chip stood in the middle of the room greeting guests and welcoming congratulatory sentiments. This was how it was supposed to be; how she envisioned it to be. It felt good to be the center of attention for a change. Buffie looked at Chip. She could read his mind. He was just as happy as she was, and thrilled that Tonya was where she belonged. She blinked several times startled by her own thoughts, fearful that someone could read her mind. But as she was greeted by another guest, she didn’t care.
*
Chip didn’t care for the large crowds. In fact, he was sick of them. One boring party after another since he was six years old was enough to make him never want to put on a tuxedo again. But he understood the dynamics of coming from and marrying into wealthy, well connected families. He would’ve preferred to have a small engagement party and an even smaller wedding ceremony, but he had no say. There were two saving graces for him: the gin and tonic he ordered just arrived, and unless Tonya could rise from the dead, the party would be a success.
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