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Authors: Suzanne Selfors
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in my dutiful fulfillment of the Wallingford role, I had lost myself. I had been taught that the family always came first. Somewhere along the way, I had come to believe that I was secondary.
The old man picked a black seed from his teeth. "Her ladyship's in a wretched mood. You are the thirty-third guest to arrive today. Been arriving all week, they have. Problem is , we've run out of guest beds. I must find out where to put you." He guided me to a bench. "Stay here." Then he scurried off.
During his absence, the hallway came alive with traffic. Cleaning women ran to and fro, carrying buckets of water and scrub brushes. Men in aprons hauled barrels and crates. A boy passed by with an enormous round of cheese balanced on his head. Everyone was talking about the party.
The Capulet party takes place in the first act of Shakespeare's play, a lavish shindig arranged to introduce Juliet to her suitor, a man named Paris. It was my favorite scene in the play because we wore masks, which helped ease my stage fright, and we danced, which I loved, even if it had to be with Troy. Sometimes he held me closer than necessary, so close that our thighs touched. Sometimes he spread his palm wide against my lower spine. I shivered thinking about it.
Even in a dreamworld I couldn't deny my feelings. I still liked the big braggart. I still sighed each and every time he walked into the room and I still wondered what it might be like to hold our stage kiss just a bit longer. But I didn't want to feel that way. I didn't want to love someone who didn't love me back. At least Troy wasn't in my dream. That was a good sign.
The old man returned. "Her ladyship wants to see you. Follow me." We made out way up a grand marble staircase. "Have you traveled far?" he inquired.
"Yes. I'm from Manhattan."
"Don't know it. Where are your traveling cases?"
I looked around, wondering if my subconscious would provide some. "I don't seem to have any."
"Were you robbed?"
That sounded believable. "Yes. Robbed."
"God forbid!" We had reached the top of the staircase. "Those Montagues were behind the robbery. I'd wager a day's pay on it." We stopped outside a narrow door. "Your name, please?"
"Mimi."
He knocked three times, then opened the door, motioning to me to enter. I stepped into a room thick with the smell of floral perfume. "Introducing Mimi of Manhattan," the old man announced. "Just arrived for the party and newly robbed." He bowed and exited, closing the door.
Crates of flowers lined the far wall where a group of women were busy weaving garlands. I stayed by the door, unsure of what to do. Voices whispered from behind a screen to my right. "Your ladyship, I must collect the debt," a man insisted.
"You know I cannot pay you today. You must persuade your superiors to extend my credit just a few more weeks," a woman insisted.
"My lady, perhaps your husband ... "
"My husband has no mind for money." She raised her voice for an instant, then lowered it again. "I run this house. My husband might as well be dead for all the help he gives me. He wanted to wait and see if Juliet would agree to the marriage. Can you imagine? Asking a child? Thankfully, I convinced him that we must proceed." She paused. "Just a few more weeks. Once my daughter's marriage is secured, I will receive a substantial payment from her husband, more than enough to cover our debts."
"Plus interest, your ladyship?"
"Yes. Now be gone. I have to prepare for the party."
A man emerged from behind the screen. He tucked a bundle of papers under his arm, nodded at me, then left the room. A tall woman stepped out and clapped her hands. "Hurry, hurry, ladies. We must get those garlands hung." She raised her eyebrows, creasing a superhigh forehead -- an effect created by a plucked hairline. "Who are you?"
"Mimi, from Manhattan."
Her stare was hypnotic. You might not know this but Lady Capulet is the villain in Shakespeare's tragedy. She doesn't have a big speaking
The old man picked a black seed from his teeth. "Her ladyship's in a wretched mood. You are the thirty-third guest to arrive today. Been arriving all week, they have. Problem is , we've run out of guest beds. I must find out where to put you." He guided me to a bench. "Stay here." Then he scurried off.
During his absence, the hallway came alive with traffic. Cleaning women ran to and fro, carrying buckets of water and scrub brushes. Men in aprons hauled barrels and crates. A boy passed by with an enormous round of cheese balanced on his head. Everyone was talking about the party.
The Capulet party takes place in the first act of Shakespeare's play, a lavish shindig arranged to introduce Juliet to her suitor, a man named Paris. It was my favorite scene in the play because we wore masks, which helped ease my stage fright, and we danced, which I loved, even if it had to be with Troy. Sometimes he held me closer than necessary, so close that our thighs touched. Sometimes he spread his palm wide against my lower spine. I shivered thinking about it.
Even in a dreamworld I couldn't deny my feelings. I still liked the big braggart. I still sighed each and every time he walked into the room and I still wondered what it might be like to hold our stage kiss just a bit longer. But I didn't want to feel that way. I didn't want to love someone who didn't love me back. At least Troy wasn't in my dream. That was a good sign.
The old man returned. "Her ladyship wants to see you. Follow me." We made out way up a grand marble staircase. "Have you traveled far?" he inquired.
"Yes. I'm from Manhattan."
"Don't know it. Where are your traveling cases?"
I looked around, wondering if my subconscious would provide some. "I don't seem to have any."
"Were you robbed?"
That sounded believable. "Yes. Robbed."
"God forbid!" We had reached the top of the staircase. "Those Montagues were behind the robbery. I'd wager a day's pay on it." We stopped outside a narrow door. "Your name, please?"
"Mimi."
He knocked three times, then opened the door, motioning to me to enter. I stepped into a room thick with the smell of floral perfume. "Introducing Mimi of Manhattan," the old man announced. "Just arrived for the party and newly robbed." He bowed and exited, closing the door.
Crates of flowers lined the far wall where a group of women were busy weaving garlands. I stayed by the door, unsure of what to do. Voices whispered from behind a screen to my right. "Your ladyship, I must collect the debt," a man insisted.
"You know I cannot pay you today. You must persuade your superiors to extend my credit just a few more weeks," a woman insisted.
"My lady, perhaps your husband ... "
"My husband has no mind for money." She raised her voice for an instant, then lowered it again. "I run this house. My husband might as well be dead for all the help he gives me. He wanted to wait and see if Juliet would agree to the marriage. Can you imagine? Asking a child? Thankfully, I convinced him that we must proceed." She paused. "Just a few more weeks. Once my daughter's marriage is secured, I will receive a substantial payment from her husband, more than enough to cover our debts."
"Plus interest, your ladyship?"
"Yes. Now be gone. I have to prepare for the party."
A man emerged from behind the screen. He tucked a bundle of papers under his arm, nodded at me, then left the room. A tall woman stepped out and clapped her hands. "Hurry, hurry, ladies. We must get those garlands hung." She raised her eyebrows, creasing a superhigh forehead -- an effect created by a plucked hairline. "Who are you?"
"Mimi, from Manhattan."
Her stare was hypnotic. You might not know this but Lady Capulet is the villain in Shakespeare's tragedy. She doesn't have a big speaking
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