Under and Over the Sea
She turned toward Oliver, eyes shining.
A ticket.
Lillie shrieked, plucking it from her hands.
“A ticket? Another ticket for Grace?”
“Yes. A gift to you both.”
“You are the most brilliant, delightful, delicious brother,” Lillie said.
Grace could hardly catch her breath. “Thank you,” she said, throwing her arms around Oliver. She kissed his neck. “Thank you.”
“Oh, but quickly!” Lillie said, glancing at the clock on the fireplace mantel. “The carriage will be here soon! We have to find you a dress!” She threw open her wardrobe and began tossing gowns on the bed. “And now you’ll get to meet my friend Frannie!”
Oliver buried a laugh in a cough and gave Grace an apologetic look.
Grace had never told Lillie how horrible Frannie Allred had been to her that night at last winter’s Botanical Ball in Chicago. Herstomach turned a little at the thought of seeing Frannie again. It brought back the way Theodore Parker had looked at her like she was a piece of mess on the bottom of his shoe; the way the two of them had dissected and humiliated her together. She’d hidden it from Lillie, who would have been injured on Grace’s behalf. And Grace couldn’t bear to hurt her cousin, even if the wound had traveled through herself first.
But who cared about any of that now. The presence of Frannie Allred was a small price to pay for a ticket to the event of the century. Grace’s gaze fell on the silver-blue dress she’d been eyeing earlier.
“Yes,” Lillie said, immediately scooping it up. “It’s so you.”
“It won’t fit me,” Grace protested.
“So we’ll pin it.”
“Your mother will have a fit.”
“Good. It will distract her from my nails.” Lillie thrust the dress at Grace. “Now go put it on.”
Grace held it to her chest and hurried to the guest room. Her heart was pounding. So the week at the Ivory City would start sooner than she had planned. She was thrilled—and yet the memory of Frannie Allred and Theodore Parker in Chicago was the least of the secrets she’d been keeping. The start of the fair meant she was one step closer to having to tell Lillie and Oliver the truth: she could no longer be part of their world. Her fingers shook a little as she pulled on Lillie’s dress and pushed earrings into her ears. Lillie came in with pins to help the dress better fit Grace’s shape. She fussed with the folds until it fell to her liking, then gasped with delight, steering Grace toward the bronze-framed mirror. “Can you believe it?” Lillie said, clasping Grace from behind. “This is about to be the best week of our lives.”
Grace squeezed her back. She held the entry ticket carefully in her hand, as delicately as a living thing. Then she pinned back herhair and hurried to follow her cousins down the hand-carved staircase.
“What’s this?” Aunt Clove asked coldly. She rose with barely disguised irritation when Grace appeared in the soaring foyer. Aunt Clove’s satin train was wrapped around her feet, swirling behind her on the marble floor, as she tied on her formal feathered hat. “Lillie, I thought you were saving that dress for the president’s dinner, not so that Grace could wear it for an evening in at home.”
“Ollie found her a ticket for tonight,” Lillie said. “Isn’t it wonderful, Mother?” She swept around Aunt Clove, beaming. She looked even more beautiful when she beamed. “I of course lent her a dress and told her she could come with us in the carriage.”
“Wonderful,” Uncle Reginald said, and he winked at Grace behind Aunt Clove’s glower. He was dressed in tails and drinking a martini.
Grace squeezed between Oliver and Lillie, poring over the opening day’s program as the carriage wove through the crowded streets. She traced the labyrinth of canals that fed into the Grand Basin, the various palaces, the colonnade of states and nations, the train lines, the stretch of Pike that was dotted with restaurants and rides. The air was scented with fire, sugar, and smoke, and an evening parade appeared to be ending, with the First Missouri Infantry taking care to control the crowds.
Lillie squeezed Grace’s hand. She wore a slate gray dress, the stormy color of the sea. It had cream tulle pulling it off her shoulders and pink roses sewn in bunches along the hem, all tied together with her satin cream gloves.
“I’m told that President Roosevelt is here for the Opening Ceremonies,” Aunt Clove remarked. She craned her neck to look out the window, something that gave Grace great pleasure. She had never seen her aunt crane at anything before.
“And tonight’s event is in a special area set apart from the riffraff,” her aunt continued, watching a woman dressed in an enormous floral hat and carrying what appeared to be a peacock under one arm. “Thank God,” she muttered.
Oliver poked Grace in the ribs, daring her to laugh.
She dug her nail into Oliver’s hand, and he bit back a yelp.
“We’ll enter tonight’s dinner by gondola,” Aunt Clove said. Her hat had feathers on it that threatened to tickle Uncle Reginald, who gently batted them away. “We’re expected to meet the Haddings there.”
“Oh, look!” Lillie said, examining the program. “A performance with Harriet Forbes! We loved her inA Doll’s House!”
