Short Story/Fifteen
Fifteen
Story By Roni Fogelman Illustration By Rhiannon Loza
H
er name was Marguerite. His was Joey. It was the Waldorf Astoria. Her excitement grew as her mother tore open the envelope. A thin sheet of pale blue paper floated to the floor revealing the invitation to her cousin’s engagement party. A thick white brocade card bore the names Marguerite and Joseph scripted in silver. “Please Mom, she begged, “can’t we go?” The room swallowed her immediately. Huge columns trimmed with gold stood at the entrance to the rented ballroom. The heavy gilded doors propped open, hungry for arriving guests and the buzz of hundreds of voices could be heard far down the hallway. The tables were circles of blue and white. They were huge and draped to the floor in white linen, then blue and then a triangle of white in the center. Glasses glittered and silverware gleamed. Her heart pounded wildly as they passed table after table. In the center of each table was a beautiful blue candle in a transparent glass vase, each candle circled with live forget-menots. Thick lavish tapestry drifted from the ceiling to the floor covering windows as high as she could see. She could hardly breathe as they approached their table. Her father pointed to one of the seats. He was stiff and nervous; she was sure he had never been to the Waldorf Astoria either. Her mother smiled and floated gracefully into the seat beside her. They had both bought new dresses for the affair once Dad had agreed to make the drive from Pennsylvania to New York City. Just as she touched the miniature gold cherub clutching a white card with her name written in lovely silver letters the music changed. She hadn’t really noticed the threepiece orchestra playing quietly in the corner. Everyone turned toward the doorway and there stood the smiling couple. Marguerite was a vision in pale blue taffeta and Joey was handsome in a dark navy suit. They could have been on the cover of any teen magazine. Her bleached blond hair was teased into the 50’s bouffant style and he was an Italian version of James Dean. She couldn’t breathe. This is what it meant to become engaged! Waiters dressed in black with long white aprons carried tray after tray of food to each table. She had never seen waiters lift huge
22 HARRISBURG MAGAZINE AUGUST 2022
