Girls' Night (Manifesto)

[Colette Moreau]

“Sofia, of course,” she gave the offered hand a gentle squeeze, mindful of the exquisite design of her nails. Sofia’s intent scrutiny wasn’t lost on Colette. Sofia’s every word and motion exuded confidence, even the warm undertone to the Russian woman’s accent. Dismantling of formalities and exposing a hint of familiarity, Colette balanced the camaraderie flawlessly. She politely accepted the chilled bottle and its implied offer, a deliberate move in the unspoken back and forth between the two women.

The mention of Uncle Valentin, the subtle lean back, and the unspoken permission to embrace hospitality spoke volumes about her hostess. The corners of her mouth curved with a slight smile, the kind of dewy motion that men usually found irresistible and women found infuriating.  “When stranded at sea, one learns to wait for the boat,” she said with a hint of a smile as she took a sip of the marvelous drink. There was no other choice when stranded at sea - float or die. Colette could float. 

She admired the glass after her sampling, nodding her approval. “Thank you for the boat ride. So what is it like to have a Privilege as an uncle?”