Frocks and Frolics.

The aromatic scents in the air at the open-air festival made Pia inhale hot jam donuts and old musty dust. She certainly knew every shade of the preloved cocktail frocks she was hanging on the rails for her stall. As her last joy, a marked down peacock blue shiny dress emerged from her stash, a strong gust of a very hot wind caught it. The fabric snagged on a wobbly leg of the fold up table of the market shop next to hers.

Pia exclaimed loudly, "Oh no! Look out there!" The quiet owner of the stack of vintage books and maps did not appear to notice, until his piles of interesting volumes slid off the surface. Two fat, heavy leather bound archives landed right on Pia's big toe, the one she had wrapped in a bandage, due to a basketball injury.

The quiet dude, still grasping his bag of donuts, tried to lay his slightly greasy hands to untangle the precious fabric from his now ruined stall.

"No, don't touch!" Pia hopped around, nearly collapsing from untold agony.

The offending table leg needed some urgent attention. Noah, as his name was, lifted up his books and archives amid clouds of dusty motes. Between them, Pia and Noah had the whole mess sorted, as the portable table was righted. Pia told herself, "Stiff upper lip, seriously attractive males do like moaning. Maybe we could share common interests in nostalgic antiques that had been saved as objects."

She leant down to help Noah pick all his best display. Their hands touched briefly, and their glances met. Pia suddenly knew what a spark of instant attraction could do, as his eyes met hers. Standing up, Noah suggested, "Maybe you need a corset, for elegance and grace."

Pia did not turn the other cheek. In fact, she hefted her more than powerful arm and slapped Noah in the face.

"Men! You need some manners and charm!"

"I'm perfectly well-mannered, thank you so much not. I only open my mouth to change feet. My mother is just the sort to buy one of your expensive rags. She'll be along later, a dragon lady in her own right. Do you do martial arts, and do you believe in Cupid?"

Pia huffed off, hoping some customers would head in her direction.

"At least my inventory doesn't smell like a damp basement and broken dreams. I sell items of history people can actually wear."

She sat down and tried not to groan, as her toe throbbed even more. Hordes of clients were not exactly heading her way.

"That vintage map just invaded my face collars again. Move it back before it becomes a fire hazard."

"Snippy woman. Your whole stock there is a fabric bonfire waiting to happen. "

"Now who's the snappy Tom!"

Noah flashed her a winning smile, and laughed.

"Are you hungry? I'll buy you a hot dog. And donuts. Truce."

"Maybe, perhaps not," Pia muttered, as he wandered off to the food vendor vans.

"Men can menstruate too, I guess." She told herself.

Noah returned with a bunch of unhealthy choices and takeaway coffees. While this uneasy peace lasted, they were both happy to see customers browsing for top quality leather journals, or old silk jackets. Pia sold a fragile lace gown, sharing a smile with Noah.

One difficult customer tried to browbeat Pia to sell her favourite frock there, the vibrant peacock dancing dress, offering a ridiculously minimal fee. Noah came over and stepped in.

"Did you know this is an exclusive garment, a one off? Designed and hand stitched in Paris in the 1920's. Worn only by one of the Vanderbilts in high end New York. Top quality, shall probably never age, always hold its value. Cheap indeed, it is only half price.

Noah had saved her sale, and her business was looking up. Pia was astounded, her eyes danced.

"How did you know that?" she asked Noah.

"My mother loves fashion museums. Here she comes now, bringing me some nutrition. Fearsome woman, but I have my eyes on that black satin with the appliques. Show her that first."

The hot wind had swirled around, Pia met the usually reticent Noah's mother. Maybelle by name. She had a slim , well toned figure, ideal. Noah and his mother were delighted by the budget sale at the market stall.

"This is beautiful. Exactly what I need for the Lord Mayor's next social evening. Where is this shop? Have you any more dresses like this? Top quality, perfect."

Maybelle wandered off, not buying any vintage books from her son. She only said, "She's a keeper, my boy. Imagine the grandkids I'll finally have."

Pia tried not to look embarrassed, pretending not to listen. Noah looked at Pia with new eyes. Could this be love?

He grudgingly said, "Guess retro fashion is winner, congratulations."

Then, the weather turned in under half an hour. Dark clouds rolled in unexpectedly. Rain tumbled down, drenching the open air festival, and threatening valuable stock and stall owners. Pia and Noah scrambled to cover the remaining delicate fabrics and old paper goods, before the water ruined them. Noah produced a small blue tarpaulin, and the pair huddled together, their shoulders touching. It was sort of intimate, Pia did not know if she was feeling a true arrow from that naughty little toddler, Cupid. Her heart was skipping many a beat. She had been impressed by this display of loyalty, and Noah's surprisingly sharp mind, not to mention his historical knowledge.

Her sales technique perhaps needed some amending. Any future rapport might be hindered by her smacking his face like that. "Weird day," she said to Noah.

"I am very impetuous."

Sipping his cup of spiced, warm cider, Noah said, "We can knock off by 4 pm. He stepped closer, inhaling her unique blend of fragrance and personal pheronomes.

"I've got a flyer someone gave me. It's for a night carnival by the lake tomorrow night. Do we have a date?"

Pia could only nod. She accepted Noah, warts and all. Even at the cost of having his bedroom practically immersed under slacks of musty antique volumes of venerable writers of the olden days. She did not really feel quite ready to pop forth grandchildren. But that might be a bridge too far along the follow up on this encounter.

Noah met Pia the following evening at the entrance of the visiting carnival. There they both let their hair down, and acted like a pair of teenagers in love. Somehow, some evenings later, Noah wound up sharing sweet nothings, meeting an age old urge, frolicking among the heaps of vintage frocks on Pia's bed. Very sensuous pair. Yes, it was love, despite their initial misunderstanding. You naughty Cupid!