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Love
-4; Game - Nanamae
 Only
Nanamae would look for romance during a St. Patrick’s Day parade.
Yet there she found it – or the hint of love’s potential. Perhaps,
it was years of turning not-so-perfect people into perfect partners (or,
at the least, financially and genetically compatible spouses). Maybe, 20
years of conjugal loneliness sparked the merry widow’s passions.
Whatever the impetus, Nanamae Hannigan (widow of Tyler Reese),
match-maker to the rich, the powerful, the in-person and on-line, the
lovelorn and the love lost; has found her own Golden Opportunity.
Standing on the judging platform at the head of a phalanx of Port
Dingle’s most admired and successful men, Nanamae avowed to not let the
parade pass her by. Well, the parade did have to pass by since she and
the four candidates for this year’s Commodore were the judges.
The Saltiest Dogs Gaming Club won for the third consecutive year in
both best use, misuse and abuse of the color green category and in the
theme category – feathers. The newest and youngest club member, Chauncey
– a mere boy of 70 years, had the questionable pleasure of choosing this
year’s theme and possibly more than a bit of input into the finished
float.
The sight of 7 elderly gentlemen clad in fluorescent green tights and
hooded leotards, each one sporting a full set of feathered butterfly
wings put the entire audience in awe. Even Nanamae, a woman rarely
speechless, sat regally watching in stunned and silent admiration.
Each feather on each fluttering wing was dyed a deep green worthy of
any true lover of the Emerald Isle. Each face and finger of each
gentleman was stained with spots of the same deep green in what was obviously a lack
of prudence during the coloring process. We shall wait to see how long
it takes skin to wear back down to its normal fleshy hues.
The Club received many offers to help replace the carpet of clover
members dug up to cover the base of their float. Chauncey claims his
wife will not realize her garden’s loss if the clover is returned
promptly since she will be spending most of the day preparing for the
night’s ball.
My first St. Patrick’s Day ball in Port Dingle was worth the
move to the country. All the men wore black (mostly tuxedos or suits
though the Buck boys came in black by GAP) and all the women wore green
except Nanamae. As official hostess and unofficial but widely
acknowledged Queen of the Ball, Nanamae was dressed head to toe in
dazzling white.
The four candidates for Commodore (dressed in mandatory black tux)
escorted Queen Nanamae throughout the evening only leaving her side to
fetch her a glass of refreshment or a plate of delectables.
One end of the Port Dingle Yacht Club ballroom featured a dais with
two makeshift thrones for the Queen and the soon-to-be-crowned
Commodore. At the other end, another dais held the small orchestra (piano, guitar, violin, cello, flute and various percussion
instruments).
Tables along the sides of the room were placed to allow everyone a
good view of the thrones. No point in making a grand entrance unless
everyone can see it properly.
At 15 minutes to midnight, Nanamae stepped up
to her throne and with no mumble, whisper,or hesitant sound; the
crowd sat or stood in silence awaiting her decree.
Without a microphone or notes or clock, Nanamae took exactly 14
minutes to introduce the four worthy candidates for Commodore. (I admit,
I very carefully looked at my watch.)
Each candidate’s virtues were numbered and applauded, each
candidate’s accomplishments acknowledged.
In Port Dingle, being Commodore is no minor honor. The Commodore is
host to every fair, festivity, fete, party and production for the year.
No public affair goes without the honor of the Commodore’s presence.
At one minute to midnight, Nanamae took a deep breath and prepared to
announce the year’s winner. With uncanny timing and right on the stroke
of midnight came the name –Riley McGee.
And here is where romance enters the picture. Riley McGee is perhaps
the most eligible bachelor in Port Dingle. A great, great and more
greats grandson of the town’s founder, the widower Riley is current
Mayor. He is also owner of the Port Dingle Yacht Club and a fine figure
of an Irish gentleman in the mmm-prime of life.
So, there they stood, minutes into a new day, the host and hostess of
Port Dingle for the next year. The merry widow Nanamae, Queen of the
ball, coy in long white silk gown, diamonds and pearls and the smiling
widower Riley, Commodore for the year, commanding in black tuxedo and
black and gold hat.
I believe I saw a twitch of greenery behind a curtain, heard a faint
giggle and possibly glimpsed the flash of Cupid's magic arrow as the couple
stood before their applauding fans.
Port
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