What if I Fly? Read Online Free PDF Page A

the sort of questions they ask her. They’re invisible. But the nanny doesn’t fade into the background, she’s part of the action and considered fair game. Julia plays along, sharing surface details, smiling on cue, asking polite questions about their charity work and travels. Everyone has always been pleasant to her, but Julia is under no illusion. To them, she’s a curiosity.
     
    At this wedding, she’s not just a curiosity, Julia feels like a circus sideshow. The men are ogling her and being disrespectful… she knows that lascivious look well. She can feel their eyes on her, can see the judgment on their faces.
    The women she’s been introduced to won’t make eye contact with her, and turn away to talk to whomever is closest, not bothering to hide their contempt.
    Why are they so quick to judge me? They know nothing about me at all!
    As soon as they pulled into the parking lot, she knew this would be an experience, but she didn’t expect to be treated like an invader or a threat. She wants to shout, Don’t worry ladies! I don’t want your men! Not realizing that, for all intents and purposes, she’s already taken one.
    She never thought of Will as one of them , at least…she didn’t .
    Will and Julia sit down at a table set for twelve where she meets Carlton and Buffy, Mackenzie and Darcy, Parker and Quinn, Graham and Mimi, and Tucker and Whitney. Are these their first or last names? It’s a mystery.
    Just as the men have their uniform, so do the women. Shoulder-length, straight blond hair of various shades, a pastel suit or dress so dowdy her grandmother wouldn’t be caught dead in it, and the obligatory strand of pearls.
    They all look the same to me. Julia can’t tell them apart except for the color of their dresses.
    “How do you know our Will?” the lady in pink asks Julia, her eyes as cold as ice. Our Will? Julia fixes her gaze on her and raises an eyebrow. Buffy, is it? This woman can’t be more than twenty-five and looks forty.
    At this point, Julia’s had just about enough of their smugness and superiority. She may as well have a little fun while she’s here, so she smiles, resting her elbow on the table, her chin in her hand.
    “He picked me up at a bar last week.” Julia says, fluttering her eyelashes at Buffy, and Will bursts out laughing.
    “We’ve known each other for a year now, right Jules?” He drapes his arm around her shoulder.
    “Just about.” Her mouth is smiling, her eyes are not. Forced smile number two hundred and seventy-three of the evening. Not that she’s keeping count.
    “We were in a play together this past summer,” Will tells the group, sending not-so-subtle shockwaves around the table. The men begin laughing and ribbing Will for doing something “so gay” and the ladies turn to each other in confusion.
    Julia sits on her hands and bites her lip, doing her very best to control her anger, while Will turns pink, probably wishing he’d kept that bit of information to himself.
    “Whatever were you doing in a play, Will?” Buffy snorts.
    All conversation at their table revolves around boats, houses, horses, and parties. His gaffe forgotten with the aid of large quantities of alcohol, Will is talking animatedly with Graham about a trip they took to ‘the Vineyard’ in high school. To her left, Mimi and Whitney discuss the upcoming ‘season’ of parties. Julia sits back in her chair, her eyes glazing over while she butters a dinner roll.
    They are so boring. How can Will tolerate these people? But he does. What’s most disturbing to Julia is this version of Will fits right in.
     
    Her mind wanders back to the Emersons, her only point of reference for people in this social sphere. Julia’s never envied them their wealth or status. It didn’t take her long to understand that along with immense privilege comes high expectations and an even higher level of conformity.
    She would never want to live as they do, more concerned with other peoples perceptions of