When I heard the door click closed behind me, I walked over to the closet and opened the door. Hanging inside were two garment bags. I took them out and unzipped the bag on top. Inside was a long, black, sleeveless gown, simple yet elegant. I relaxed slightly. Okay, so I hadn't picked it out myself, but it was lovely, I'd give my grandmother that. And it was even my size. Putting it aside, I unzipped the second bag. My eyes widened as I pulled the stunning dress free from its plastic closure. It was a one-shouldered, floor-length ball gown in a shade of purple so deep it appeared almost black when turned away from the light. It was reminiscent of a gown from the forties, something Lana Turner or Rita Hayworth would have worn to a Hollywood movie premier. I loved everything about it. I quickly stripped out of my jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt and pulled it on. Even with the white straps of my bra showing, it was beautiful and fit as if it had been made just for me. I twirled, watching as the skirt swung out around me. Something about that brought a sense of happiness I hadn't felt in a long time. A surge of hope filled my chest. Life can still hold miracles, even very small ones. And maybe if there were enough small doses of joy, sprinkled just often enough, I'd survive. As if the path of my life was a dot-to-dot puzzle, the spaces between the dots of joy filled with uncertainty and perhaps even pain. But eventually I'd make it to the end and there would be some sort of picture. Some sort of point.
There was a knock at my door. "Come in," I called, expecting my grandmother. The door opened and my body froze. It was my grandmother's butler, Jeffrey. He smiled.
"Hello, Lily. My, how beautiful you look. What's the occasion?" He came up behind me, and I met his eyes in the mirror—the color so dark brown they almost looked black.
"I . . . I was just trying on a dress for an event Grandma's taking me to." I cleared my throat. I didn't like this man. He made me nervous, but I would not stutter in front of him. I would not give him that.
He smiled again, his eyes moving down my body. I resisted the urge to cover myself with my arms, resisted the urge to pull away. "Lovely," he murmured. "So lovely. So grown up." After another tense moment, he pulled back, as if coming out of a trance. "Well, I just came to say hello and let you know I was here if you need anything." I nodded, not breaking eye contact.
"Good," he murmured, walking to the door. He looked back at me. "I'm glad to see you well, Lily. Very, very glad."
As soon as he left, I walked quickly to the door and locked it, standing against it for a moment and breathing deeply. Then I undressed, returned the dresses to their garment bags, and hung them back up carefully, resenting Jeffrey for sullying what had been a happy moment. What was the point of looking beautiful in a new dress anyway when the one man I wanted to see me in it, never would? I quickly re-dressed in my jeans and T-shirt.
As I tiptoed quietly down the stairs, I heard my grandmother talking to Jeffrey. I caught my name, but didn't care to hear exactly what they were discussing. I slipped on my coat and opened the door slowly. Just before closing it, I called behind me, "I'm going out. I'll be back soon." I needed to get out and clear my head.
I heard a few sudden footsteps coming my way, and so I closed the door behind me and fast-walked down the block, letting out an exhale when I'd turned the corner. I didn't want my grandmother to worry, but I also didn't feel like dealing with her fretting over me going out for a simple walk around the neighborhood. I loathed being treated like a child despite being almost twenty-one. It was tedious and exasperating. Half my life had been spent feeling like a princess locked in a tower. A damaged princess. One who shouldn't expect to be rescued. And now I knew creepy Jeffrey was here, and it made everything worse. So much worse. Why my grandmother trusted him, I had no idea.
There was a park a couple blocks from my grandmother's rental, a walking path weaving around the perimeter. I turned at the entrance, moving to the side in case a jogger or bike rider came up behind me. It was an unseasonably chilly day for California, bringing to mind being in the woods in Colorado on cool fall evenings. I stuffed my hands in my coat pockets to warm them.
Children made loud sounds of delight—reminiscent of forest birds twittering—as they played on the playground. I closed my eyes momentarily, attempting to relax, smelling pine and dead leaves floating on the crisp evening air. As I walked, the sun began to set and the daylight dimmed. I walked into a section of path that was shaded by massive eucalyptus trees and for some reason, looking around, the entire landscape suddenly looked like it'd been drawn in black ink, the color leeching from the scene. I blinked, trying desperately to hang on to it.
No. Not now. The bench. Get to the bench. Quick, shallow breaths. In and out, Lily. In and out. My lungs felt as though they were stinging from the sharp cold of the air. My heart slammed against my ribs. Oh God. A panic attack. Get control. Get control.
Focused on the ground at my feet, my breathing finally slowed and my heartbeat became regular again. My vision slowly cleared, and I was able to sit up straight. The scene resumed. Sound and color burst forth and I let out a relieved sigh. Why does this keep happening?
Move forward.
Move away from the pain.
When I felt calm enough to continue on, I stood on shaky legs and completed the lap, ending up back at the park entrance again where I hurried back to my grandmother's home. I would never tell her about my anxiety. She'd only worry and use it to contain me. And I wanted freedom. All I wanted was freedom.
Where would you fly, Lily?
Anywhere I wanted.
Anywhere at all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Lily
"Are you sure this isn't too much makeup? I feel sort of like a Vegas showgirl."