Burnouts

Your Warm Winter Hands

Scene 1: The Waldorf Astoria

Heather Blakely

"Smile, darling," my mom says through a gritted smile of her own.

"Of course," I say agreeably as I continue to shake the hand of hundreds of people. "Thank you for coming. I'm so glad you're here. I'll see you inside," I repeat to each stranger who passes me by.

"Shoulders back, Heather," my mother directs.

I clench my jaw and nod at her.

"If you focus on something else like...the shoes people are wearing, you can probably tune her out," Preston whispers over to me.

"Nothing can tune her out," I complain.

"Well, in that case...if you can't beat her, join her."

"...What?"

"Greet harder, darling," he mocks.

"Ah," I nod when I see what he means. "Stand straighter, Preston."

"Don't blink, sweetheart."

"Stop breathing so much, honey."

"Heather," my mother whispers harshly, "no talking." Preston and I look at each other before falling into a fit of laughter—which only makes her angrier. She comes over and grabs me out of the line. "Would you take this seriously, please?"

"I learned how to curtsy in high heels and waltz just for tonight. How much more serious can I get?'

"You can at least pretend to be grateful that your friends and family came here to see you on your big day."

"I am pretending. Should I smile with more teeth?"

She huffs and rolls her eyes, "you can't be happy unless everyone else is miserable."

I scoff in disbelief and glare at her.

And she thinks she can just walk off?

"Heather-" My father stops me before I could make matters worse.

"But that was so hypocritical. Did you hear what she said?"

"Give your mother a break, okay? She's been looking forward to this since she found out she was having you."

"I know, she is obsessed with having my life go the same way hers did."

"Is that such an awful thing? She loved her debutante ball. She still has her dress and gloves."

"Good for her, but this isn't the merry seventies anymore. I'm not getting ready with my friends, curling my hair, and listening to Journey."

"It's adorable that you think your mother listened to Journey, Heather." I roll my eyes. "Just go out there for her, get some nice pictures and make us proud."

"I don't have much of a choice."

"No..." he admits, "however, your participation won't go unpaid. The favor will be returned...though it shouldn't have to be. In the future, you'll see why tonight was so important. This hotel is currently occupied by all the gatekeepers of the world. Charm them now, and no door will ever be locked for you."

"Isn't that what I have you for?"

"It's cheaper to just be nice."

"Fine," I breathe out.

"Very good. Now...what are you?" He looks expectedly at me, and I sigh, not wanting to respond. "Heather?"

"...a princess," I say grudgingly.