Oz

The Delaney house was impeccable.  Maggie marveled at the level of taste and style that had gone into every detail, from the crown moldings to the curtains to the furniture.  And it was so spacious, but still felt cozy and warm.  It was the nicest home she’d ever been inside.  She felt out of place. 

Grey had grown up in this house.  This stunning, graceful creature gliding up the stairs before her had raised him.  Everyone knew who Velvet Delaney was, and everyone loved her.  Maggie was not alone in her awe-struck response to seeing Mrs. Delaney pass by on the street or in a store; a shy, smiling reaction one might have to witnessing celebrity in their midst.

Now she was in her home.  Now she was her daughter-in-law.

Maggie took a deep breath and tried to focus on what Mrs. Delaney was chattering on about.  She was a lovely, kind woman and had been trying very hard to make Maggie feel comfortable, but the effect of her rapid fire dialogue and strings of questions was more the opposite of her intention than anything.   Maggie felt like she was walking a very thin line—she didn’t know what was appropriate, didn’t know what Grey would want her to say or not to say, she felt locked-up, nervous, uneasy, and terribly, terribly guilty.

She wasn’t the kind of young woman Velvet Delaney would have chosen for her son, Maggie was certain of it.  And should Mrs. Delaney discover just how and why the two had wed?  Maggie grimaced.  She knew a day would come soon enough when Velvet’s warmth and sweetness would shut off cold. 

She forced herself to stop thinking of that looming inevitability and listen to what her Mother-in-Law was going on about.

“… just lovely, really, and so flattering! But I think you’ll be more comfortable in something dry, don’t you?”

“Mmmhmm” Maggie’s tongue was behaving peculiarly and that was all she could manage safely.

“And you’ve got such a small frame,” Velvet continued blithely, “We’ll just look through Viola’s things.”  She turned to one of the closed bedroom doors along the hallway.  She didn’t knock, just twisted the knob and peeked in.  “Well, it’s a bit of a mess, but what teenage girl’s room isn’t?” 

Viola Delaney’s room was bigger than Maggie’s and Maggie’s sister’s bedrooms combined.  Her eyes widened as she turned in place, marveling at the space.

“Let’s not focus on the mess!” Velvet said conspiratorially, misinterpreting Maggie’s astonishment.  “Have a seat, Dear, and I’ll see what we have.” 

Maggie pulled an expensive looking desk chair out from where it sat by a top-of-the-line computer and she perched herself on the edge of it, feeling absurdly afraid to break anything.

As Velvet rifled through hanger after hanger in a bathroom-sized walk-in closet she continued chatting gaily. “You look familiar, Maggie, but I’m having trouble placing you!” She gushed apologetically.  “What’s your last name? That is, what was your last name?”

Maggie was silent for a moment.  “Ramirez.”  She answered.

The hangers stopped sliding for a moment and Maggie held her breath. 

“Do you work at Delaney’s Wine Shoppe?” Velvet asked, excitedly. 

Maggie let out her breath.  “I do, yes.”  She responded pleasantly. She shared a smile with Velvet and felt warm.

“That’s my brother-in-law’s place.” She said unnecessarily.  “Is that where you met Grey?” She asked, excitement gleaming in her eyes, face glowing.

“It is, as a matter of fact.”  Maggie tried not to betray alarm when Mrs. Delaney made an ecstatic little noise and swung back into the closet.

“Oh, Ramirez!” She exclaimed suddenly.  Maggie closed her eyes, bracing herself.  “Does your family own the little place on the corner of Maple and Elm?”

Again Maggie sighed with relief.  She scolded herself for expecting the worst from people, but she couldn’t help feeling inferior to this woman, the third wealthiest woman in Cedar Falls.  This was where the Delaneys lived: On Cedar Crest, in a mansion, with a swimming pool and a tennis court and a six-car garage and cherry trees.  Maggie’d grown up above the family restaurant downtown.

“We do, yes.” Maggie answered.

“Jonah and I love that place!”  Velvet sounded genuine, not at all patronizing.  Still Maggie was wary.  “Oh!”  Velvet emerged from the closet and deposited an armful of clothing into Maggie’s lap.  “Jonah!” she exclaimed.  “I have to call him—I’ll leave you to try these on, I think the red would look stunning with your coloring!” And she hustled out, closing the door behind her.

Maggie couldn’t help feeling as though a cheerful little tornado had just swept her up and deposited her in OZ.  She took a breath and looked at the exquisite garments in her lap.  She knew she’d have to save months of salary just to afford one of them. 

Was she supposed to feel like Cinderella?  She only felt vaguely worse about herself.