After the showing ended and the gala closed Lyla, Serena and Harmon walked out of the school and drove down to one of the small, chic cafe-bars which had recently cropped up to celebrate. They set themselves down in the aromatic cedar interior on spotless red booths where shortly thereafter a pretty middle aged woman with a tight T and cowboy boots ambled over and asked what they wanted to drink. The girls ordered microbrewed IPAs, Harmon ordered Milwaukee’s Best. The trio sat in silence, drinking and looking around at the rambunctious patrons, smiling dumbly before Harmon, a quarter of the way through his beer, broke the silence.
“So, how’d you two meet? At school, I imagine.”
Serena nodded, “Yeah, I met her, hm, yeah, it was the first day of class. We had life drawing together. She was really good and we just got to talking.”
“I seen your paintings.”
“What did you think.”
“I thought they were very pretty. Kind of erotic though.”
Lyla cut in, sneering, “He’s a prude.”
“Ain’t that I’m prudish,” he arched his brow, “As you well know. Just that everything is oversexed. It detracts from the sacrality of the act.”
Serena stifled a chuckle and took a big swig of her beer. She found serious use of the world “sacrality” quite funny.
“What does he say when you two are getting it on?”
Serena puffed up her chest and imitated Harmon’s gravely voice and stolid pose.
“Evening, ma’am, was wondering if ya’ll might kindly undress fer me.”
“Nah. I never ask her too undress. Only orders with me.”
Lyla, embarrassed and tipsy, punched Harmon in the arm whereupon he cracked a grin and threw his arm about her and pulled her close and kissed her crown. Lyla smiled and kissed him back, upon his lips, firm and briskly and he flushed a little, his heart skipping a beat.
“Well, aren’t you two just precious.”
“Don’t know about me. But she sure is. Most precious thing I have.”
Harmon looked to Lyla. For a brief moment, her smile faltered.