Masks

How the High-Class Southerners made their daughters Miserable

Masks

 

           The flowers were the most beautiful things I had ever seen. Sometimes flowers don't look quite right, but these were supple and moist roses. You could practically see little droplets of the purest, sweetest water clinging to their deep red petals that looked like they had been carved out of some divine wax. 

            It was behind one particularly large collection of these that I was hiding, peaking through the thorny stems at the people arriving to the party. I wasn't supposed to be down here yet. I was supposed to make some exaggerated and hugely tacky entrance after the party began. I was supposed to be up in my room at this very moment, primping and readying myself for this night that I was supposed to be excited about.  

"Miss Jillian!" I heard someone hiss behind me. I jumped and turned around.  

"You need to get ready child! Your parents will be upset if you are not ready when it is time." Kelly, one of our workers, who was supposed to be doing my hair, warned. 

            I sighed and followed her up the stairs in the kitchen. We couldn't use the main staircase, which was now draped with red carpeting to match the roses. My house now looked like it had been covered with every type of red and white decoration in a one hundred mile radius.  

"Are you excited Miss Jillian?" Kelly asked me when I took my seat at the vanity littered with jars of paste and powder. She pulled a brush through my slightly damp hair. It went through smoothly, down to the middle of my back. My hair was only slightly curly, unlike my younger sister who had spiral curls that everyone fused over. However, she was already confined to her room. No one under sixteen was allowed at this party. I suddenly began to wish I was twelve again. Twelve year olds couldn't be betrothed.  

            I closed my eyes as Kelly pushed and nudged my hair into some strange shape on top of my head. I opened my eyes when I felt her push pins into it. She had clipped it into a flowing jumble of cascading curls and placed red roses elegantly about it. I have to admit, it did look pretty. It was ruined in my opinion when she added the glitter.  

"Jillian, darling, are you almost ready?" my mother came into the room. My mother was a small woman who had been very beautiful when she was younger; not that she wasn't pretty now, but her skin no longer had that porcelain look to it. She had worry lines around her mouth that I expected my siblings and I had given her. She looked quite excited and dazzling with her sleek brown hair twisted up into an elegant bun and snuggly fit in a powder blue gown with almost as many ruffles as mine. I cast a sideways glance at it lying would-be-innocently on the bed. It was a dark red, the same color as the roses. It was ruffled on the bottom half, but form fitting at the top. It was mocking me silently and I glared at it.  

"Yes Mama." I answered and got up from the chair.  

            She surveyed me for a minute. I realized I was only wearing a silk slip, but she didn't care. If she didn't want to see me half undressed, she should stay out of my room. "You should fix your face before you put your dress on, just in case you spill something." She advised me.  

            I clucked my tongue. I didn't like putting make-up on myself. It always came out wrong and someone else would have to fix it. I think she could tell what I was thinking, or perhaps it was reading all over my face because she entered the room fully, closed the door behind her and said, "Would you like me to do your make-up for you dear?"  

            I nodded and sat down in the chair. Kelly did a small curtsey, muttered "madam" respectfully and exited the room. My mother pulled a chair over and began dabbing frothy colored cream on my face and spreading it with a fluffy poof.  

"Your father and I are very proud of you Jillian." She told me. I didn't say anything. I had my hands folded in my lap and was working very hard to keep my face still. I wanted to cry. I did not want to go to this party in that beautiful dress with my hair pinned up like a princess to mingle with all those aristocrats. My family was most prominent, so only the most accomplished of the elite had been invited to this gathering in my honor. 

"Jillian, you should keep an open mind." 

"Yes Mama." I replied automatically as she spread powder over my eyes. 

"These young men your father wants you to consider deserve a fair chance." She continued. I did not respond. She sighed and began to brush goopy wax onto my lips. I knew the lipstick would match the dress, which matched the flowers, which matched the blood running through my veins in turrets.   

            I felt bad for causing her strife. I loved her very much. My father was trying to do what he thought was best for the family image, not for me, so I can not pretend I was feeling equally for both my parents. I kept reminding myself that if I behaved poorly it would reflect most indecently upon my family, and I didn't want that even though I would have liked nothing more than to push one of those statues that were placed around the ball room over and watch its shattered pieces scatter across the floor. I did not want to hurt them. I just did not want to be part of this particular family with so many obligations anymore.  

"You should put your dress on now dear." She told me and kissed my cheek. "You look very beautiful." She left.  

            Kelly came back in when my mother left. She helped me pull the dress on and then laced the corset top in the back, squishing my chest tightly and making my flesh burst out at the lacy rim. 

            There was another soft knock on the door.  

"Come in" I called.  

            The door flew open. My best friend, Caroline, can striding gracefully into the room, wearing a flowing champagne colored dress and her light brown hair half up and curled. She held her glittery gold mask from the ribbons in her left hand and a glass filled with something I'm sure was spiked with alcohol.  

"Let me have a sip of that." I said and held my hand out for the glass. She handed it to me.  

"Jill, did you pick the color scheme?" she asked me as I sipped the concoction. It did indeed have alcohol in it. I could feel the tingle in my nose and the warmth run into my blood.  

"I said I didn't care what they picked." I told her and handed her back the glass.  

"It's too much red. I feel like I am at the scene of some blood bath." She took the glass from me and tipped it to her mouth. I laughed.  

            My parents didn't really like Caroline. She was a big wild and outspoken sometimes, but never too badly. Her parents were very respected people and well known, so they couldn't not invite them to this assembling. Never the less, they did not like me to be with Caroline all that much.  

            Kelly finished tying my dress and left.  

"You do look really pretty Jill." She reassured me as I plucked moodily at the ruffles.  

"I don't want to go to this ridiculous ball Caroline." I told her, for what I am sure must have been the twelve hundredth time.  

"I know. It's bad enough your parents want you to choose a husband from a bunch of boys that they picked out for you, but then they make you meet all of them for the first time at some extravagant masquerade ball." She replied and picked up my mask from my bedside table. It was decorated with dark red silk, red beads and glitter with silk ribbons to hold it in place. "Can you help me tie mine?" she asked and handed me her mask.  

"Sure." I took it from her and she stood in front of me. She was a bit taller than me, and much prettier in my opinion. She was the subject of many young male, and even some adult male, fantasies around town. Her eyes were roughly the color of celery and her skin was soft and lightly tanned. I tied the ribbon around her head and hid it under her hair. Her brilliant eyes popped out dramatically when she looked at me through the gold. I wished vaguely for a minute that I had gorgeous eyes like her rather than the chestnut brown ones I possessed.  

"Here, I'll do yours for you." She offered and got my mask off the table. I put it on, pleased that it only covered the area around my eyes. I hated those big masks that went halfway down your nose with feathers that tickled and itched and made you sneeze at inappropriate times.  

"Are any of the boys downstairs good looking?" I asked. I did not intend to give any serious thought to any of these suitors that my parents had selected for me, but it would be nice to have some eye candy for the night. 

"It's hard to tell what with everyone wearing these masks." Caroline reasoned. "But there are a lot of guys downstairs. How many of them are suitors?" she inquired.  

"I think there are four." I told her as I slipped on my shoes, which were, of course, red.  

"Well there's a lot more than four boys downstairs." she pointed out and picked up a fan from my dresser and fanned herself. "Are you bringing down a fan?" she asked.  

"No, it would be too much." I responded and surveyed myself in the mirror again. I looked at the clock. "I have to go down in five minutes; you might want to get out of here. If you walk down the stairs with me, my parents might not be too pleased."  

            She laughed. I could tell she wanted to test that theory, but she just gave me a hug and left. I stood alone in the middle of the room for a few minutes before my mother came in again.  

"Oh Jillian, you look wonderful!" she gushed. I held in a grimace. I didn't think I looked bad, but I didn't want to look good either. I wondered vaguely what would happen if I accidentally spilled something on my dress.  

"Thanks Mama."  

"You should walk over to the staircase now. It's time to go." She instructed and left. I followed her out, separating from her when she took a different staircase down while I walked over to the top of the main staircase. I grabbed my dress and lifted it a little so I wouldn't trip as I walked down. I could vaguely hear my father making a speech, presenting me properly, but my ears had shut off. I waited for my cue, which came from the orchestra, and I began to descend the steps.  

            The walk seemed to never end. I could see about a hundred masked faces looking up at me. Most of the men had masks on sticks because ribbons would have looked silly tied around their heads. Nearly all of the men looked alike because so many of them were wearing black. The color in the room came from the women wearing big, elegant dresses of many different colors, the tables of food that were lavishly decorated with rose petals and groaning under dishes upon dishes of delicious food. There were several tables around the floor with different types of drinks like wine, champagne, whiskey and bourbon as well as juices to just drink plain. I yearned to go snatch one of those glasses, shaped differently depending on the drink you chose. The orchestra, consisting of about twenty talented men, was on a corner of the room near the dance floor. I scanned the crowd as I got closer to the bottom, trying to find Caroline. I spotted her near one of the drink tables, looking as if she was trying as hard as she could to keep from laughing; she was only half succeeding.  

            When I reached the last stair, I stopped and let me dress fall, putting my hands behind me. Everyone clapped and I wanted to sink through the floor and disappear forever. I did not mind being the center of attention, but it was an embarrassing circumstance in my opinion. My father came up to me and offered his arm. I clasped it and he led me onto the dance floor in front of the whole crowd.  

"My daughter, Jillian!" he introduced again. Everyone clapped. I thought it ridiculous. These people knew me, and had known me since I was little. Maybe the only people who didn't were the suitors and their families. However, I'm sure my dad at least informed them of my name before inviting them to this ball. My father let go of my arm and stepped back respectfully. I curtseyed to the crowd and the orchestra started playing. My father placed his hand on my waist and held my other in his and we began to waltz. Everyone watched for a minute and then joined in.  

            I have to admit, I do like dancing. There is something about revolving around the dance floor, able to glimpse everything that makes me think about how I see the world. I could stand on top of the staircase and look down at everyone, or I could rotate around this dance floor, weaving through people and observing them from different angles. It was a much more efficient way to see everyone from here than to look at them from above. 

            Some of the girls I recognized through their masks, and others I had to take a second look at. The boys all looked the same to me. I could not distinguish one from another, but none of them really ever stood out to me anyway. I looked around for unfamiliar faces, looking to see what some of these suitors looked like and their current location so as to make the quickest possible free route to one of the drink tables as soon as this dance was over.  

            The song ended and my father bowed to me then kissed my forehead. I didn't stand idle for a moment like the rest of the women on the dance floor so another partner could come up to them. I high tailed it over to Caroline and grabbed a glass of red wine.  

"How bad was it?" I asked her.  

"You looked like you were about to slide down the banister and kick someone in the face." She informed me.  

"… That would have been such a great idea." I answered. She laughed at me and took another sip of her drink. I wasn't drinking mine quickly. The longer I held it, the longer I could stay off the dance floor.  

            Caroline looked sideways at me. "You're going to have to dance with each of them eventually. Just get it over with." She advised me. I sighed. I knew she was right. If my father saw me dance with each of them at least once earlier rather than later, he might be in a decent enough mood to not force introductions.  

"How do I know who is who?" I inquired.  

            Caroline paused. "That is an excellent question." But just as she said it, a boy, maybe eighteen years old with dark hair and green eyes came up to me. He had abandoned his mask, and thank goodness because he had a fine face. He held out his hand.  

"May I have this dance?"  

            I looked at Caroline who nudged her head as if to say 'go on!' I nodded and took his hand and let him lead me out onto the floor. I saw my dad glance at me briefly. When he turned back to talk with Mr. Olsen, a long distance cousin from across town, he had a satisfied smile plastered onto his face that he wasn't bothering to hide. So this boy, this really gorgeous boy, was one of the suitors. I suddenly liked him a little bit less. He was probably just some spoiled brat with a rich father who had no personality whatsoever.  

            No personality aside, he was a wonderful dancer. Such a skill was common to everyone who had acclaimed families and were used to attending these types of parties and balls. I had been to one of these suitor balls before my own, for my friend May who has since been married off and moved away.  

            I didn't want to move from this place where all my friends, family and memories were. At sixteen, who really wanted to bond themselves to one person forever and loose everything that made up their identity just to produce and heir and carry on a legacy of accomplished snobs? You can put me in the No column.  

"You don't seem too pleased to be here." The boy observed. I mentally shook myself. I hadn't been paying attention at all as we danced. This was easy seeing as all I had to do was follow him. I could let my mind wander freely.  

"Are you?" I countered. I instantly regretted it. I had been resolving to work on my quick venomous attitude; at least for this party so no one could say anything bad about me or my family should I refuse all of the suitors.  

 "Well it's this or stay home and be lectured on how I need to find someone quickly because I need to be prepared to carry on the family business." He explained with a small shrug.  

"I get a similar lecture. What business if your family in?" I asked.  

"My father is a judge." He responded. I liked how he didn't say his family was in law. He separated himself from his family by singling his father out as the business man and not connecting himself to it other than in parental relation. I smiled at him.  

"What's your name?" I inquired.  

"Charles Brooks." He told me.  

            I looked at him for a minute. "You don't really look like a Charles."  

"I don't." he agreed. I thought maybe he was offended, but then he smiled at me and said, "Most people call me Charlie." I let a small giggled escape me.  

"That's a great deal better." I agreed.  

"Well I'm glad you approve." He teased.  

            The song ended and he took my hand and kissed it. "A pleasure meeting you Jillian." I wanted to say 'don't go' but stopped myself as I watched his retreating back disappear in the crowd. Another boy, shorter than Charlie with red hair and brown eyes came up to me.  

"Would you like to dance?" he asked. He had a pointed, slightly upturned nose and I was pretty sure he was one of the suitors from the way people around me were looking at us. He was probably the favorite, with the most prominent father who everyone respected in public but talked badly about at home because he was a pompous a*s.  

            I complied and we danced a song. He told me his name was Preston Jamison. I recognized the name. Jamison was the name of a very famous lawyer I know had been in my father's court a few times. Besides that, Preston didn't say anything to me, but looked at the rim of my dress rather than at my eyes, or else looked around at the other guests with a smug look on his face. I noticed that this song seemed to last so much longer than the one I had danced to with Charlie.  

             The song finally ended and he bowed to me and walked away. He didn't say anything at all. He obviously thought that just his mere presence was enough to impress me. I was less than impressed. I was disgusted that someone who comes from such an obviously esteemed household did not humble himself when trying to capture the affection of someone they were meeting with the opportunity to marry.  

            I did not feel like staying on the dance floor anymore. I knew that every single one of the remaining suitors would be just like Preston, and I didn't want to see any more of it. I was not some object to be won, or some tradable good that could be sold. I whisked by the table with wine on it again and grabbed a glass. I drank this one a bit more quickly before going over to the table with food where I saw Caroline being helped by one of our workers. She was pointing out bits of food that she wanted to sample while they arranged it on a plate for her.  

"You've been gone for quite awhile." She said to me when I walked up and another server grabbed a plate for me.  

"Another suitor came up to me and asked me to dance after Charlie." I told her. "Some chicken if you please." I said to the worker.  

"Oh, Charlie? Not Charles?" she teased. I gave her a look. "Who was the other one?"  

            I clucked my tongue distastefully. "Preston Jamison." I replied with relish.  

"I take it you didn't like him quite as much as you liked Charlie?" she simpered. I glared at her, but did not respond. Our helpers carried our plates outside for us, where tables had been set up with ten seats each out in the garden which had been decorated as well with large red candles placed strategically around the court yard. We choose a table with no one else at it and sat down. It wasn't exactly comfortable in this dress. The helpers brought us silverware and asked if there was anything else they could get for us. Caroline asked for some whiskey, but I still had half of my glass of wine.  

"So tell me about Charlie." Caroline commanded.  

"His name is Charles Brooks and his feelings for his father and this party mirror mine." I informed her.  

"Oh, I like him than." She approved. I laughed.  

"Has anyone asked you to dance yet?" I inquired.  

"No, but I have gotten a few other offers from Carl Daimsey." She winked at me.  

"Oh Caroline, Carl Daimsey is repulsive." I replied with distaste.  

"I am aware of that. That is why I am currently here with you rather than half concealed in that rose bush over there." She pointed. My mouth fell open as I saw Abigail Harrison and John Hamilton hidden in a clump of bushes in a very peculiar position.  

"Oh my goodness!" I put my hand to my mouth and giggled embarrassedly. I prayed no one caught them. Caroline put down her fork to look at me seriously.  

"That's what happens when someone is in a forced relationship that their parents set up while they are in love with someone else." Caroline informed me. I held in a shudder. I would never be in that position. I felt bad for Abigail Harrison. She was betrothed to some snob that she hated that her parents picked out for her with the threat that if she did not marry him, they would disown her.  

"That won't happen to me." I insisted.  

"Of course not" Caroline agreed, "Because you like Charlie!" She said his name with a little exaggerated squeak.  

"You know Caroline," I began as I finished my chicken and took another sip of wine. "You are going to drive people away with that strange vocal projection." She shrieked with laughter.  

"It's part of my charm. It's what draws people to me!" she countered.  

"Yes, everyone loves a girl who can make her voice sound like a wild bird sending a mating call to a hog." I added silkily.  

            We continued to laugh so much that I did not see Charlie come up to the table.  

"It seems like this is the amusing place to be. Do you mind if I join you? I'm in severe need of some humor." He explained.  

"Of course." I responded and he put down his glass of Bourbon and sat down.  

"Charlie this is my friend Caroline. Caroline, this is Charlie." I introduced. I'm sure Caroline recognized him, but it was the polite thing to do.  

            Charlie stood up respectfully and reached across the table to shake Caroline's silk gloved hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you." 

"Likewise." She smiled. 

            Charlie sat back down and turned to face me.  

"So have you danced with all the men your father picked out for you already?"  

"Hardly. Only two." I told him.  

"Who was the other one?" he asked.  

"Preston Jamison." I replied with a grimace. He laughed at me.  

"I take it you didn't like him much." Charlie surmised.  

"He was terribly rude." I explained.  

"He was terribly ugly." Caroline cut in. The three of us laughed. "I think I'll go back inside. I'm starting to feel a bit chilly." Caroline said. It was no where near cold out. It was actually a very pleasant early summer night. I could hear crickets in one ear and the orchestra in the other.  

"I think I'll stay out here." Charlie said. "I'd like to take a walk. Would you accompany me Jillian?" he asked as he stood from his chair.  

"Sure." I replied and he helped me out of my chair. We walked toward the path that winded through the garden part of the two hundred acres of land that we owned. The garden was lit with candles for the occasion, as was everything really. I stopped to think for a moment just how much work actually went into the planning and throwing of this party. Not to mention the money. Although than again, money wasn't really an object for my family. I hate to sound like a spoiled child, but we lived in a lap of luxury. 

"Do you come into this garden often?" Charlie asked me as he looked around.  

"Sometimes just to be alone, you know. It's a nice place to come if you want to be in silence." I admitted.  

"Do you like silence?"  

"If I am alone. When you are surrounded by people silence is usually a bad thing as it signifies either rudeness or awkwardness.   

"So you don't believe a comfortable silence can exist between two people?" he inquired.  

"I suppose if you've known that person for a long time, sitting in silence doesn't necessarily mean there's been an argument or someone is uncomfortable. My friend Caroline and I can sit in silence sometimes, but with her it usually lasts about as long as it takes her to yawn or sneeze." I explained, letting my head fall forward a little to look at the rim of my dress slightly scuffing the ground. Charlie laughed at my comment about Caroline.  

"Would you be able to sit in silence with me and be comfortable?" he asked.  

            I half shrugged. "I barely know you." I replied.  

"At least you can see my face. You've been wearing that mask all night. I don't feel as if I've truly met you." he teased.  

            I reach behind me and found the knot Caroline had made. I tugged on the middle and let the silk ribbons slip through my fingers. I caught the mask and pulled it away from my face slowly. Then I stuck my hand out. "Nice to meet you Charles Brooks. I'm Jillian Montgomery." I played along.  

"Nice to meet you as well." Charlie replied and grabbed my hand. In a flash, he pulled me by the hand against him and we fell back into one of the bushes. I was reminded of Abigail Harrison briefly.  

"Holy s**t!" I sat straight up. The blanket fell of me and I fell off the couch after it with a thud.  

"What the hell?!" someone yelled and I heard the click of a lamp being turned on.  

            The room came into clear view. I was lying on the floor sprawled out while my friends Melanie and Tanya stared at me, concerned.  

"Yall right there Sammy?" Tanya asked.  

"Yeah, I think so." I replied and rubbed my eyes.  

"What happened?" Melanie asked, sitting up straighter.  

            I thought for a minute about the dream I had hand. I looked out the door of the corner room we were in at my house into the large open room I had seen in my dream. This was my grandparent's house, which they had left to their daughter, my mother. I could almost see the ballroom as it had been in my dream, covered in those pretty red roses.  

"I think I had a dream that I was my mother. It was the story she told me about how she met my dad." I said and climbed back onto the couch.  

"Creepy! You dream-kissed your father!?" Tanya gasped. Melanie hit her with a pillow. They both knew the story well, seeing as my mother loved to tell it when she got into one of her nostalgic moods.   

"You're gross." She titled her.  

"Well you're just fabulous!" Tanya retorted sarcastically and threw her own pillow in Melanie's face.  

"Hey guys, shut up, it's three a.m. I know my mom made out with my dad in a bush the night she met him, but she's not going to be that cool when she comes down here because we woke her up." I pulled the chain on the lamp and the covers over my head. I closed my eyes and thought about that ballroom, and those suitors, and how my mom complained about how she had to wear that dress. 

            I don't think I would have minded so much.

Masks

 

           The flowers were the most beautiful things I had ever seen. Sometimes flowers don't look quite right, but these were supple and moist roses. You could practically see little droplets of the purest, sweetest water clinging to their deep red petals that looked like they had been carved out of some divine wax. 

            It was behind one particularly large collection of these that I was hiding, peaking through the thorny stems at the people arriving to the party. I wasn't supposed to be down here yet. I was supposed to make some exaggerated and hugely tacky entrance after the party began. I was supposed to be up in my room at this very moment, primping and readying myself for this night that I was supposed to be excited about.  

"Miss Jillian!" I heard someone hiss behind me. I jumped and turned around.  

"You need to get ready child! Your parents will be upset if you are not ready when it is time." Kelly, one of our workers, who was supposed to be doing my hair, warned. 

            I sighed and followed her up the stairs in the kitchen. We couldn't use the main staircase, which was now draped with red carpeting to match the roses. My house now looked like it had been covered with every type of red and white decoration in a one hundred mile radius.  

"Are you excited Miss Jillian?" Kelly asked me when I took my seat at the vanity littered with jars of paste and powder. She pulled a brush through my slightly damp hair. It went through smoothly, down to the middle of my back. My hair was only slightly curly, unlike my younger sister who had spiral curls that everyone fused over. However, she was already confined to her room. No one under sixteen was allowed at this party. I suddenly began to wish I was twelve again. Twelve year olds couldn't be betrothed.  

            I closed my eyes as Kelly pushed and nudged my hair into some strange shape on top of my head. I opened my eyes when I felt her push pins into it. She had clipped it into a flowing jumble of cascading curls and placed red roses elegantly about it. I have to admit, it did look pretty. It was ruined in my opinion when she added the glitter.  

"Jillian, darling, are you almost ready?" my mother came into the room. My mother was a small woman who had been very beautiful when she was younger; not that she wasn't pretty now, but her skin no longer had that porcelain look to it. She had worry lines around her mouth that I expected my siblings and I had given her. She looked quite excited and dazzling with her sleek brown hair twisted up into an elegant bun and snuggly fit in a powder blue gown with almost as many ruffles as mine. I cast a sideways glance at it lying would-be-innocently on the bed. It was a dark red, the same color as the roses. It was ruffled on the bottom half, but form fitting at the top. It was mocking me silently and I glared at it.  

"Yes Mama." I answered and got up from the chair.  

            She surveyed me for a minute. I realized I was only wearing a silk slip, but she didn't care. If she didn't want to see me half undressed, she should stay out of my room. "You should fix your face before you put your dress on, just in case you spill something." She advised me.  

            I clucked my tongue. I didn't like putting make-up on myself. It always came out wrong and someone else would have to fix it. I think she could tell what I was thinking, or perhaps it was reading all over my face because she entered the room fully, closed the door behind her and said, "Would you like me to do your make-up for you dear?"  

            I nodded and sat down in the chair. Kelly did a small curtsey, muttered "madam" respectfully and exited the room. My mother pulled a chair over and began dabbing frothy colored cream on my face and spreading it with a fluffy poof.  

"Your father and I are very proud of you Jillian." She told me. I didn't say anything. I had my hands folded in my lap and was working very hard to keep my face still. I wanted to cry. I did not want to go to this party in that beautiful dress with my hair pinned up like a princess to mingle with all those aristocrats. My family was most prominent, so only the most accomplished of the elite had been invited to this gathering in my honor. 

"Jillian, you should keep an open mind." 

"Yes Mama." I replied automatically as she spread powder over my eyes. 

"These young men your father wants you to consider deserve a fair chance." She continued. I did not respond. She sighed and began to brush goopy wax onto my lips. I knew the lipstick would match the dress, which matched the flowers, which matched the blood running through my veins in turrets.   

            I felt bad for causing her strife. I loved her very much. My father was trying to do what he thought was best for the family image, not for me, so I can not pretend I was feeling equally for both my parents. I kept reminding myself that if I behaved poorly it would reflect most indecently upon my family, and I didn't want that even though I would have liked nothing more than to push one of those statues that were placed around the ball room over and watch its shattered pieces scatter across the floor. I did not want to hurt them. I just did not want to be part of this particular family with so many obligations anymore.  

"You should put your dress on now dear." She told me and kissed my cheek. "You look very beautiful." She left.  

            Kelly came back in when my mother left. She helped me pull the dress on and then laced the corset top in the back, squishing my chest tightly and making my flesh burst out at the lacy rim. 

            There was another soft knock on the door.  

"Come in" I called.  

            The door flew open. My best friend, Caroline, can striding gracefully into the room, wearing a flowing champagne colored dress and her light brown hair half up and curled. She held her glittery gold mask from the ribbons in her left hand and a glass filled with something I'm sure was spiked with alcohol.  

"Let me have a sip of that." I said and held my hand out for the glass. She handed it to me.  

"Jill, did you pick the color scheme?" she asked me as I sipped the concoction. It did indeed have alcohol in it. I could feel the tingle in my nose and the warmth run into my blood.  

"I said I didn't care what they picked." I told her and handed her back the glass.  

"It's too much red. I feel like I am at the scene of some blood bath." She took the glass from me and tipped it to her mouth. I laughed.  

            My parents didn't really like Caroline. She was a big wild and outspoken sometimes, but never too badly. Her parents were very respected people and well known, so they couldn't not invite them to this assembling. Never the less, they did not like me to be with Caroline all that much.  

            Kelly finished tying my dress and left.  

"You do look really pretty Jill." She reassured me as I plucked moodily at the ruffles.  

"I don't want to go to this ridiculous ball Caroline." I told her, for what I am sure must have been the twelve hundredth time.  

"I know. It's bad enough your parents want you to choose a husband from a bunch of boys that they picked out for you, but then they make you meet all of them for the first time at some extravagant masquerade ball." She replied and picked up my mask from my bedside table. It was decorated with dark red silk, red beads and glitter with silk ribbons to hold it in place. "Can you help me tie mine?" she asked and handed me her mask.  

"Sure." I took it from her and she stood in front of me. She was a bit taller than me, and much prettier in my opinion. She was the subject of many young male, and even some adult male, fantasies around town. Her eyes were roughly the color of celery and her skin was soft and lightly tanned. I tied the ribbon around her head and hid it under her hair. Her brilliant eyes popped out dramatically when she looked at me through the gold. I wished vaguely for a minute that I had gorgeous eyes like her rather than the chestnut brown ones I possessed.  

"Here, I'll do yours for you." She offered and got my mask off the table. I put it on, pleased that it only covered the area around my eyes. I hated those big masks that went halfway down your nose with feathers that tickled and itched and made you sneeze at inappropriate times.  

"Are any of the boys downstairs good looking?" I asked. I did not intend to give any serious thought to any of these suitors that my parents had selected for me, but it would be nice to have some eye candy for the night. 

"It's hard to tell what with everyone wearing these masks." Caroline reasoned. "But there are a lot of guys downstairs. How many of them are suitors?" she inquired.  

"I think there are four." I told her as I slipped on my shoes, which were, of course, red.  

"Well there's a lot more than four boys downstairs." she pointed out and picked up a fan from my dresser and fanned herself. "Are you bringing down a fan?" she asked.  

"No, it would be too much." I responded and surveyed myself in the mirror again. I looked at the clock. "I have to go down in five minutes; you might want to get out of here. If you walk down the stairs with me, my parents might not be too pleased."  

            She laughed. I could tell she wanted to test that theory, but she just gave me a hug and left. I stood alone in the middle of the room for a few minutes before my mother came in again.  

"Oh Jillian, you look wonderful!" she gushed. I held in a grimace. I didn't think I looked bad, but I didn't want to look good either. I wondered vaguely what would happen if I accidentally spilled something on my dress.  

"Thanks Mama."  

"You should walk over to the staircase now. It's time to go." She instructed and left. I followed her out, separating from her when she took a different staircase down while I walked over to the top of the main staircase. I grabbed my dress and lifted it a little so I wouldn't trip as I walked down. I could vaguely hear my father making a speech, presenting me properly, but my ears had shut off. I waited for my cue, which came from the orchestra, and I began to descend the steps.  

            The walk seemed to never end. I could see about a hundred masked faces looking up at me. Most of the men had masks on sticks because ribbons would have looked silly tied around their heads. Nearly all of the men looked alike because so many of them were wearing black. The color in the room came from the women wearing big, elegant dresses of many different colors, the tables of food that were lavishly decorated with rose petals and groaning under dishes upon dishes of delicious food. There were several tables around the floor with different types of drinks like wine, champagne, whiskey and bourbon as well as juices to just drink plain. I yearned to go snatch one of those glasses, shaped differently depending on the drink you chose. The orchestra, consisting of about twenty talented men, was on a corner of the room near the dance floor. I scanned the crowd as I got closer to the bottom, trying to find Caroline. I spotted her near one of the drink tables, looking as if she was trying as hard as she could to keep from laughing; she was only half succeeding.  

            When I reached the last stair, I stopped and let me dress fall, putting my hands behind me. Everyone clapped and I wanted to sink through the floor and disappear forever. I did not mind being the center of attention, but it was an embarrassing circumstance in my opinion. My father came up to me and offered his arm. I clasped it and he led me onto the dance floor in front of the whole crowd.  

"My daughter, Jillian!" he introduced again. Everyone clapped. I thought it ridiculous. These people knew me, and had known me since I was little. Maybe the only people who didn't were the suitors and their families. However, I'm sure my dad at least informed them of my name before inviting them to this ball. My father let go of my arm and stepped back respectfully. I curtseyed to the crowd and the orchestra started playing. My father placed his hand on my waist and held my other in his and we began to waltz. Everyone watched for a minute and then joined in.  

            I have to admit, I do like dancing. There is something about revolving around the dance floor, able to glimpse everything that makes me think about how I see the world. I could stand on top of the staircase and look down at everyone, or I could rotate around this dance floor, weaving through people and observing them from different angles. It was a much more efficient way to see everyone from here than to look at them from above. 

            Some of the girls I recognized through their masks, and others I had to take a second look at. The boys all looked the same to me. I could not distinguish one from another, but none of them really ever stood out to me anyway. I looked around for unfamiliar faces, looking to see what some of these suitors looked like and their current location so as to make the quickest possible free route to one of the drink tables as soon as this dance was over.  

            The song ended and my father bowed to me then kissed my forehead. I didn't stand idle for a moment like the rest of the women on the dance floor so another partner could come up to them. I high tailed it over to Caroline and grabbed a glass of red wine.  

"How bad was it?" I asked her.  

"You looked like you were about to slide down the banister and kick someone in the face." She informed me.  

"… That would have been such a great idea." I answered. She laughed at me and took another sip of her drink. I wasn't drinking mine quickly. The longer I held it, the longer I could stay off the dance floor.  

            Caroline looked sideways at me. "You're going to have to dance with each of them eventually. Just get it over with." She advised me. I sighed. I knew she was right. If my father saw me dance with each of them at least once earlier rather than later, he might be in a decent enough mood to not force introductions.  

"How do I know who is who?" I inquired.  

            Caroline paused. "That is an excellent question." But just as she said it, a boy, maybe eighteen years old with dark hair and green eyes came up to me. He had abandoned his mask, and thank goodness because he had a fine face. He held out his hand.  

"May I have this dance?"  

            I looked at Caroline who nudged her head as if to say 'go on!' I nodded and took his hand and let him lead me out onto the floor. I saw my dad glance at me briefly. When he turned back to talk with Mr. Olsen, a long distance cousin from across town, he had a satisfied smile plastered onto his face that he wasn't bothering to hide. So this boy, this really gorgeous boy, was one of the suitors. I suddenly liked him a little bit less. He was probably just some spoiled brat with a rich father who had no personality whatsoever.  

            No personality aside, he was a wonderful dancer. Such a skill was common to everyone who had acclaimed families and were used to attending these types of parties and balls. I had been to one of these suitor balls before my own, for my friend May who has since been married off and moved away.  

            I didn't want to move from this place where all my friends, family and memories were. At sixteen, who really wanted to bond themselves to one person forever and loose everything that made up their identity just to produce and heir and carry on a legacy of accomplished snobs? You can put me in the No column.  

"You don't seem too pleased to be here." The boy observed. I mentally shook myself. I hadn't been paying attention at all as we danced. This was easy seeing as all I had to do was follow him. I could let my mind wander freely.  

"Are you?" I countered. I instantly regretted it. I had been resolving to work on my quick venomous attitude; at least for this party so no one could say anything bad about me or my family should I refuse all of the suitors.  

 "Well it's this or stay home and be lectured on how I need to find someone quickly because I need to be prepared to carry on the family business." He explained with a small shrug.  

"I get a similar lecture. What business if your family in?" I asked.  

"My father is a judge." He responded. I liked how he didn't say his family was in law. He separated himself from his family by singling his father out as the business man and not connecting himself to it other than in parental relation. I smiled at him.  

"What's your name?" I inquired.  

"Charles Brooks." He told me.  

            I looked at him for a minute. "You don't really look like a Charles."  

"I don't." he agreed. I thought maybe he was offended, but then he smiled at me and said, "Most people call me Charlie." I let a small giggled escape me.  

"That's a great deal better." I agreed.  

"Well I'm glad you approve." He teased.  

            The song ended and he took my hand and kissed it. "A pleasure meeting you Jillian." I wanted to say 'don't go' but stopped myself as I watched his retreating back disappear in the crowd. Another boy, shorter than Charlie with red hair and brown eyes came up to me.  

"Would you like to dance?" he asked. He had a pointed, slightly upturned nose and I was pretty sure he was one of the suitors from the way people around me were looking at us. He was probably the favorite, with the most prominent father who everyone respected in public but talked badly about at home because he was a pompous a*s.  

            I complied and we danced a song. He told me his name was Preston Jamison. I recognized the name. Jamison was the name of a very famous lawyer I know had been in my father's court a few times. Besides that, Preston didn't say anything to me, but looked at the rim of my dress rather than at my eyes, or else looked around at the other guests with a smug look on his face. I noticed that this song seemed to last so much longer than the one I had danced to with Charlie.  

             The song finally ended and he bowed to me and walked away. He didn't say anything at all. He obviously thought that just his mere presence was enough to impress me. I was less than impressed. I was disgusted that someone who comes from such an obviously esteemed household did not humble himself when trying to capture the affection of someone they were meeting with the opportunity to marry.  

            I did not feel like staying on the dance floor anymore. I knew that every single one of the remaining suitors would be just like Preston, and I didn't want to see any more of it. I was not some object to be won, or some tradable good that could be sold. I whisked by the table with wine on it again and grabbed a glass. I drank this one a bit more quickly before going over to the table with food where I saw Caroline being helped by one of our workers. She was pointing out bits of food that she wanted to sample while they arranged it on a plate for her.  

"You've been gone for quite awhile." She said to me when I walked up and another server grabbed a plate for me.  

"Another suitor came up to me and asked me to dance after Charlie." I told her. "Some chicken if you please." I said to the worker.  

"Oh, Charlie? Not Charles?" she teased. I gave her a look. "Who was the other one?"  

            I clucked my tongue distastefully. "Preston Jamison." I replied with relish.  

"I take it you didn't like him quite as much as you liked Charlie?" she simpered. I glared at her, but did not respond. Our helpers carried our plates outside for us, where tables had been set up with ten seats each out in the garden which had been decorated as well with large red candles placed strategically around the court yard. We choose a table with no one else at it and sat down. It wasn't exactly comfortable in this dress. The helpers brought us silverware and asked if there was anything else they could get for us. Caroline asked for some whiskey, but I still had half of my glass of wine.  

"So tell me about Charlie." Caroline commanded.  

"His name is Charles Brooks and his feelings for his father and this party mirror mine." I informed her.  

"Oh, I like him than." She approved. I laughed.  

"Has anyone asked you to dance yet?" I inquired.  

"No, but I have gotten a few other offers from Carl Daimsey." She winked at me.  

"Oh Caroline, Carl Daimsey is repulsive." I replied with distaste.  

"I am aware of that. That is why I am currently here with you rather than half concealed in that rose bush over there." She pointed. My mouth fell open as I saw Abigail Harrison and John Hamilton hidden in a clump of bushes in a very peculiar position.  

"Oh my goodness!" I put my hand to my mouth and giggled embarrassedly. I prayed no one caught them. Caroline put down her fork to look at me seriously.  

"That's what happens when someone is in a forced relationship that their parents set up while they are in love with someone else." Caroline informed me. I held in a shudder. I would never be in that position. I felt bad for Abigail Harrison. She was betrothed to some snob that she hated that her parents picked out for her with the threat that if she did not marry him, they would disown her.  

"That won't happen to me." I insisted.  

"Of course not" Caroline agreed, "Because you like Charlie!" She said his name with a little exaggerated squeak.  

"You know Caroline," I began as I finished my chicken and took another sip of wine. "You are going to drive people away with that strange vocal projection." She shrieked with laughter.  

"It's part of my charm. It's what draws people to me!" she countered.  

"Yes, everyone loves a girl who can make her voice sound like a wild bird sending a mating call to a hog." I added silkily.  

            We continued to laugh so much that I did not see Charlie come up to the table.  

"It seems like this is the amusing place to be. Do you mind if I join you? I'm in severe need of some humor." He explained.  

"Of course." I responded and he put down his glass of Bourbon and sat down.  

"Charlie this is my friend Caroline. Caroline, this is Charlie." I introduced. I'm sure Caroline recognized him, but it was the polite thing to do.  

            Charlie stood up respectfully and reached across the table to shake Caroline's silk gloved hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you." 

"Likewise." She smiled. 

            Charlie sat back down and turned to face me.  

"So have you danced with all the men your father picked out for you already?"  

"Hardly. Only two." I told him.  

"Who was the other one?" he asked.  

"Preston Jamison." I replied with a grimace. He laughed at me.  

"I take it you didn't like him much." Charlie surmised.  

"He was terribly rude." I explained.  

"He was terribly ugly." Caroline cut in. The three of us laughed. "I think I'll go back inside. I'm starting to feel a bit chilly." Caroline said. It was no where near cold out. It was actually a very pleasant early summer night. I could hear crickets in one ear and the orchestra in the other.  

"I think I'll stay out here." Charlie said. "I'd like to take a walk. Would you accompany me Jillian?" he asked as he stood from his chair.  

"Sure." I replied and he helped me out of my chair. We walked toward the path that winded through the garden part of the two hundred acres of land that we owned. The garden was lit with candles for the occasion, as was everything really. I stopped to think for a moment just how much work actually went into the planning and throwing of this party. Not to mention the money. Although than again, money wasn't really an object for my family. I hate to sound like a spoiled child, but we lived in a lap of luxury. 

"Do you come into this garden often?" Charlie asked me as he looked around.  

"Sometimes just to be alone, you know. It's a nice place to come if you want to be in silence." I admitted.  

"Do you like silence?"  

"If I am alone. When you are surrounded by people silence is usually a bad thing as it signifies either rudeness or awkwardness.   

"So you don't believe a comfortable silence can exist between two people?" he inquired.  

"I suppose if you've known that person for a long time, sitting in silence doesn't necessarily mean there's been an argument or someone is uncomfortable. My friend Caroline and I can sit in silence sometimes, but with her it usually lasts about as long as it takes her to yawn or sneeze." I explained, letting my head fall forward a little to look at the rim of my dress slightly scuffing the ground. Charlie laughed at my comment about Caroline.  

"Would you be able to sit in silence with me and be comfortable?" he asked.  

            I half shrugged. "I barely know you." I replied.  

"At least you can see my face. You've been wearing that mask all night. I don't feel as if I've truly met you." he teased.  

            I reach behind me and found the knot Caroline had made. I tugged on the middle and let the silk ribbons slip through my fingers. I caught the mask and pulled it away from my face slowly. Then I stuck my hand out. "Nice to meet you Charles Brooks. I'm Jillian Montgomery." I played along.  

"Nice to meet you as well." Charlie replied and grabbed my hand. In a flash, he pulled me by the hand against him and we fell back into one of the bushes. I was reminded of Abigail Harrison briefly.  

"Holy s**t!" I sat straight up. The blanket fell of me and I fell off the couch after it with a thud.  

"What the hell?!" someone yelled and I heard the click of a lamp being turned on.  

            The room came into clear view. I was lying on the floor sprawled out while my friends Melanie and Tanya stared at me, concerned.  

"Yall right there Sammy?" Tanya asked.  

"Yeah, I think so." I replied and rubbed my eyes.  

"What happened?" Melanie asked, sitting up straighter.  

            I thought for a minute about the dream I had hand. I looked out the door of the corner room we were in at my house into the large open room I had seen in my dream. This was my grandparent's house, which they had left to their daughter, my mother. I could almost see the ballroom as it had been in my dream, covered in those pretty red roses.  

"I think I had a dream that I was my mother. It was the story she told me about how she met my dad." I said and climbed back onto the couch.  

"Creepy! You dream-kissed your father!?" Tanya gasped. Melanie hit her with a pillow. They both knew the story well, seeing as my mother loved to tell it when she got into one of her nostalgic moods.   

"You're gross." She titled her.  

"Well you're just fabulous!" Tanya retorted sarcastically and threw her own pillow in Melanie's face.  

"Hey guys, shut up, it's three a.m. I know my mom made out with my dad in a bush the night she met him, but she's not going to be that cool when she comes down here because we woke her up." I pulled the chain on the lamp and the covers over my head. I closed my eyes and thought about that ballroom, and those suitors, and how my mom complained about how she had to wear that dress. 

            I don't think I would have minded so much.

Author's Note

This is my mother's favorite piece of writing I ever did. Basically, I never got a bad critique on this story, and I think it has potential to be better so please critique (with consideration)