Mingmei Yip - Petals from the Sky

It was a cool evening and the Metropolitan Museum of Art had already closed to the public. Alongside the curb, luxury sedans and yellow taxis disgorged elegant couples-men in impeccable suits or tuxedos and women in gowns or designer suits-carefully walking up the wide flight of steps. Although not heavily bejeweled like some of the ladies, I was at least clad in the elegant Chinese jacket that Michael had bought me, and got a few approving stares.

Michael took my arm and led me across the Great Hall, then down past the Egyptian exhibits into the Temple of Dendur where the reception was starting. After Michael had gotten our drinks, we stood under the sloping glass wall to watch the scene. The temple was at the center of a spacious area with a high ceiling and sloping, floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Central Park was now cloaked in pink twilight. But at this moment even this magnificent sight failed to attract attention. People, looking dignified yet cheery, engaged in hushed conversation in this respectful zone of taste and class. Diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, rubies, and gold glittered, echoing here and there the glint of crystal glasses and silver bowls. To complete this picture of elegance, a small orchestra in a corner was playing classical music that I could not identify.

Michael asked, “Beautiful, isn’t it?” He wore a proud expression, as if by just being here he had already fathomed the mystery and prestige of the art world.

Looking around, I caught sight of a slender sixtyish woman with platinum blond hair tied into a smooth bun, and a necklace of large diamonds-each bigger than my engagement ring. She was talking to a taller woman who instead of diamonds wore a string of pearls as big as my knuckles. Behind them stood two black tie, well-established, gray-haired gentlemen waiting patiently in the registration line.

“Michael”-I nudged his elbow-“these people all seem very distinguished.”

“Meng Ning”-he lowered his voice, now also eyeing the blonde and the tall woman-“this is the Met, so I can tell you these are the richest and most powerful people in New York, including the mayor and the chairman of the Rockefeller Foundation.

“Now look at the couple talking to the mayor. Do they look familiar?”

This couple definitely had the appearance of the privileged. “Hmmm…no, nothing special,” I said with a deliberately nonchalant air.

“They are Kennedys. And the couple to their far right is the Met’s trustee Benjamin Hill and his Chinese wife.”

Although my eyes were now scrutinizing the handsome couples with relish, nevertheless I felt annoyed that Michael was so taken with these social elite. I wanted to say, Oh, so…what’s the big deal? but swallowed my words.

We sipped our champagne while continuing to watch the rich and famous, before Michael excused himself to the men’s room. I went to look inside the temple. Once I stepped into the sandstone area, I heard two women’s voices, one shrill, the other husky, rise in excited tones. I walked farther inside and saw the duo-a big, fiftyish woman in a silver gown and black pearls; the other, equally big but with more delicate bones, in a red evening dress with matching rubies. Seeing that now the three of us were the only people in the small temple chamber, I smiled at them. Instead of returning my cordiality, they cast me sharp, scrutinizing glances. Feeling embarrassed, I pretended to look at the mural while trying my best to suppress a rising resentment.

As if I were invisible, the two continued their conversation.

Black Pearl-the bigger woman with a husky voice-asked, “So have you heard about the Dunns’ divorce?”

“Oh, yes,” Red Dress replied in her shrill voice, “I’d known from the start it wouldn’t work out.” She paused to wet her lips. “The girl’s nobody, all she’s got are her boobs-but just like old Dunn’s Song dynasty painting collection, half are fakes.”

The two burst into laughter.

Then Red Dress, her big eyes darting around, added, “Besides, there are rumors that she’s wild.”

“You mean-” Black Pearl’s high-cheek-boned face lit up.

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you haven’t heard about her and that actor.”

Black Pearl nodded knowingly. “You mean the one who does independent films and commercials?” She winked. “He’s cute, though.”

“That’s why. Besides, she’s had enough of old Dunn. I doubt he even had sex with her during their honeymoon.”

“You sure?”

“He’s seventy, so maybe he’s already used up…”

The two exchanged meaningful glances, then malicious smiles.

Black Pearl spoke again. “The girl’s not as lucky as she thinks. Dunn’s ex-wife got the better end of things. Now they say he’s going to have to auction off his collection of jewelry.”

Right then I heard Michael’s voice calling me softly from outside the temple. I hurried past glittering pearls and rubies and cold glances and stepped out of the gossip zone.

Michael slipped his arm around mine. “You like the temple?”

“Oh, yes,” I said, faking enthusiasm, while wondering whether I should tell him about my temple experience.

After we’d had our glasses refilled at the bar, we went to a corner to sip our drinks. I continued to watch the people, feeling self-conscious. Then my eyes caught an elegant-looking man walking toward us, smiling. It took a moment before I recognized him-Philip Noble, Michael’s glamorous buddy whom I’d met at La Côte Basque.

He shook hands with Michael. Then, like last time, he lifted and kissed my hand. “It’s such a pleasure to see you again, Meng Ning. How have you been? Enjoying yourself?”

“Yes.” I looked into his sapphire eyes. “I’m also starting to let the famous names and faces sink in.”

Philip mocked disapproval by tossing his thick blond mane. “Nah, big deal, they’re just common people like us-eat, sleep, work, play, and you-know-what.”

He leaned forward and looked deeply into my eyes. “I hear that Michael and you are engaged. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” I smiled, then blurted out, “Philip, then when is your turn?”

He threw back his head and laughed. “I’m different from Michael; he’s the thinker and I’m the hedonist. Since he was a teenager, he’s known what he wanted. Now he’s gotten it, while I’m still living the floating life and enjoying it. Difference is, I’m just not interested in finding a center-unless someday when I meet someone as lovely as you.” He slapped Michael’s shoulder. “If I’m as lucky as him.”

Michael said, “Meng Ning, just wait. Philip will be married with kids and living in Scarsdale in a few years.”

We all laughed. Although I had no idea where Scarsdale was.

A shaft of light landed on Philip’s face, bringing out more blue in his eyes. How would it feel to be so handsome, to be able to charm all the women in the world?

Then, taking me by surprise, he leaned down to plant a kiss on my lips. I felt my blood cascading like a waterfall. After that, he said, “Michael’s a very nice guy; take good care of him.”

I blushed, then nestled against Michael’s chest.

He sighed. “Why is Michael always the one who gets the best?”

Michael laughed. “It’s because you never look in the right direction.”

Philip smiled, then saw a friend and excused himself. He winked at me as he walked away. I felt my heart skip a beat.

Michael took my hand. “Let’s go find Professor Fulton.”

As I was looking around, I saw a silver-haired gentleman in his sixties with a lofty air and a no-nonsense look. I nudged Michael. “Michael, this man looks so pompous…”

He cast me a chiding glance. “Meng Ning, he’s Professor Fulton.”