My grandmother laughed. "Silly girl. Of course not. Would your grandmother let you wear too much makeup? You look stunning. As you should. It's your birthday."
I smiled. "Yes . . ." I turned to the mirror, taking one last look at myself. I was wearing the deep purple gown and a pair of strappy heels. My hair had been tamed into a swept-up style, and my grandmother had ordered a deep purple lily—almost the exact hue of my dress—from a florist and stuck it in the back of my hair. I smiled as I looked at it in a small mirror held up to see the larger mirror behind me. My makeup was dramatic with dark eyes and nude lips. I didn't quite feel like myself, and yet I couldn't deny that I felt pretty, perhaps even beautiful. Perhaps even like a girl who had a life ahead of her. And if not, maybe, just for tonight, I could pretend it was more than just a misplaced dream.
The limo was already waiting for us in front of my grandmother's home, and we rode to the hotel where the event was being held in one of the ballrooms. Stepping out of the limo, I closed my eyes and took in a deep, calming breath. I couldn't help smiling.
Do you feel real, Lily? Yes. Yes, tonight maybe I do.
My grandmother and I checked our coats and made our way to the ballroom, our heels clicking on the marble of the hotel entryway. Lights sparkled and I could hear the low strains of music drifting to us from inside the event. "Now, Lily," my grandmother, said, leaning close to my ear, "if you get overwhelmed, just squeeze my hand and we'll leave immediately. You don't have to say a word."
"Grandma, I'm fine. I promise. Please don't follow me around. I love you, I do, but I'll be okay."
"All right," she said, offering me a small, nervous smile. "Yes, okay, darling. Have fun. Mingle. The night is yours. Of course it is."
We entered the ballroom, and I looked around as my grandmother led us to our table. Men looked handsome in their stylish tuxedos, and the women glittered and shone, dressed in every beautiful shade of ball gown that existed. They seemed to know the art of easy mingling, some sitting at large tables and others standing to the side. Watching them socialize effortlessly made me feel like an imposter. The tables themselves were decked in orange tablecloths with bright red, purple, and dark orange runners that looked as if they were handmade, Guatemalan I assumed. And in the centers were large bowls of bright, tropical-looking flowers. The sweet, heady fragrance wafted in the air as I sat down in front of the place card that spelled out my name in elegant hand-written calligraphy.
"The raffle items are over there, if you'd like to come with me to look at them," my grandmother said, pointing to the other side of the room where I could see large baskets and other items on high-top tables. Guests walked the rows of items, many sipping colorful cocktails and glasses of champagne.
"Yes, I would," I said, standing.
"Good. And bid on a few things," my grandmother said. "It's for a wonderful cause."
I smiled at her just as an older woman wearing a long white gown approached our table, greeting my grandmother. My grandmother introduced me to her, and we said our hellos. "I'll meet you over there," I said to my grandmother, indicating the bidding area and nodding again to the woman.
"Yes, I'll be over in a few minutes," my grandmother said, turning back to the woman in white.
I wandered through the crowd, taking a tall glass filled with pink liquid off one of the trays and taking one long drink of the sweet, but tart, cocktail. I licked my lips. "Oh, excuse me," I said to the woman who was carrying the tray. "What is this?"
"A pomegranate martini."
It was delicious. I might just have two. I'd finish them quickly before my grandmother found me.
No, no I wouldn't. It was my birthday, after all, and I was twenty-one. I was allowed.
I walked up one aisle, looking over the baskets first then moving on to the vacations, and the tickets, and the other items that were described in detail on small placards. I wrote my name down on a basket full of spa items. Why not?
What about you? What do you like, Lily?
I don't know.
So maybe it was time to find out. I signed my name below tickets for two to a Broadway show performing at a theater in San Francisco, and then to a hockey game, and a day trip to Napa Valley, including a hot air balloon ride. I had money. Maybe it was time to figure out what to spend it on. Although, should I win, I might not be in San Francisco long enough to use any of it. I took another sip of the pomegranate martini. Looking over my shoulder across the room, my grandmother was still in deep conversation with the woman in white. And now another woman had joined them. She was gesturing wildly with her hands, and my grandmother and the other woman had astonished looks on their faces. I rolled my eyes. They were probably discussing the latest gossip at the tennis club my grandmother had joined.
"Oh look, a trip to Paris," a man said. I stilled, ice moving up my spine.