Grace and Lillie had written to each other of little else for months. The jewel of Forest Park stretched on in an endless green vista near the Carter house, its fountains and rolling hills visible from all of the south-facing front rooms. But over the last three years it had been steadily transformed into a different world. Ten thousand workers had poured in to create fifteen hundred new structures: palaces with domed cupolas, fountains and waterways and intricate canals for boats to float by grand halls and colonnades; a mile-long promenade of shops and restaurants; a Ferris wheel, an intramural railroad, and even a working roller coaster. It was an entire miniature city built to last seven months, a world’s fair to be combined with the summer Olympic Games. It was also a testament to progress: what collective humanity could accomplish, as well as marking the hundred-yearcelebration of the Louisiana Purchase. “The Ivory City,” the press had dubbed it.
The eyes of the entire world were turned toward St. Louis, waiting for the future to be made there. And Grace desperately wanted to be there, too, in its crucible, secretly hoping she’d be touched by something valuable in proximity.
“You’re sure you don’t mind if I go tonight?” Lillie asked, bringing an earring to her lobe. She studied Grace’s face in the mirror’s reflection.
“Of course not,” Grace said. She tried not to feel the needle-prick of jealousy that Lillie and Oliver were invited to the fair’s exclusive opening night’s party. She was grateful that she got to go at all, tomorrow, and every day before she returned to Kansas City on the train next week. “I bet I can see the fireworks from the balcony,” she said. “And in my nightdress, without the crowds.”
“But you’ll be here alone,” Lillie said.
Grace scoffed. “I’ll wait up for you to return and you’ll tell meeverything,” she said. “And I won’t be alone. Lulu and I will be here together indulging in a cup of tea and some dark chocolate, won’t we, Lulu?” She scratched the dog’s neck.
“I don’t know,” Lillie said. “Perhaps I’ll just stay. We can make a girls’ night of it.”
“Don’t you dare, Lillie Alice Carter, I would never forgive you,” Grace said. “Oh! I almost forgot. I have something for you.”
Partly to distract Lillie, she jumped up and fetched a box. She had spent three weeks fashioning what was inside—a necklace of round porcelain beads she had painted to look like an intricate bow pattern of floral lace. She’d used a horsehair paintbrush as thin as a whisper and sharp as a blade, and it had turned out beautifully. Lillie gasped, examining it closely. Then she insisted that Grace help her put it on.As she fixed the clasp around the slender curve of Lillie’s neck, Grace could hear the roar of a massive crowd cheering nearby.
Fifty thousand people—perhaps even one hundred thousand people. It sounded like the crash of an ocean wave in the middle of the country.
They both turned toward the window. Lillie’s fingers flew to her mouth.
“Stop biting,” Grace said automatically.
Lillie wrinkled her nose as she looked at her ragged nails. “Mother is going to have a conniption when she sees my hands.”
“Nail-bitingisthe surest indication of a person’s debauchery, more so even than gambling, wantonness, or prostitution.”
Lillie threw a hat at her.
“Wear these,” Grace said. She rummaged in Lillie’s wardrobe and found a pair of satin gloves. Her eyes fell on a dress that shimmered pale blue, shot through with silver threads and exquisitely embroidered appliqués of beaded flowers. It was one of the many dresses Lillie would wear later in the week. Her eyes lingered on it.
There was a knock on the door.
“Everyone decent in there?” Oliver called.
“The jury is hung,” Grace said. She went to open the door. “But fully dressed? Yes.”
He waltzed in dressed in tails, a bow tie, and a top hat.
“You look lovely, as always, Sister,” he said, giving Lillie a kiss on the cheek. Grace returned to pinning Lillie’s hair.
“And I have a surprise for you.” He dangled a box wrapped with a ribbon in front of them. “A riddle. One very decadent offering is hidden within this box. It is a single item that cannot be shared, and yet it’s a gift to you both.”
With a flourish, he set it in front of Lillie. “Can you guess what it is?”
She squealed. “You do the honors, Grace,” she said, pushing it across the vanity, where Grace picked it up. It was as light as the discarded shell of a bird’s egg. She resisted the urge to shake it.
“Don’t keep us in suspense!” Lillie said. “Open it!”
Grace pulled at the ribbon, her face flushing. She opened the box and inside was a piece of paper.
Its gilded edge caught the light.
Invite One
Opening Night Fete of the World’s Fair
Private Entrance
