First seminar story
Roses are Red
She turns the corner, barely slowing. It’s a neighborhood street, quiet in the dark. She would’ve preferred a highway exit, where drivers are expected to be unpredictable, driving racecar fast, weaving through lanes, horns blaring, but a neighborhood is what she found. It doesn’t matter where she is anyway, as long as she’s moving away.
There’s no one around to see her. No one to see the thin chain interwoven throughout the fingers of her left hand, lily pendant swinging, or the half finished bottle of red wine in her right. No one sees her too-wide turn, where she almost hits a parked silver Honda before she finally manages to drive down the street in a semi-straight line. At least it’s too late for kids to be playing outside. She doesn’t want to kill anyone, not even him. Surprisingly, not even herself. Well-she doesn’t think so.
The wine was a gift from him, on her 25th birthday. The lily pendant, too. He bought it for her as a joke. Rose, he’d say to her, that’s a nice name, but it’s a bit cliché. Everyone buys roses for their girlfriends. So instead he’d bought her every other flower: bright daffodils for their picnics, the perfume infused with violets and chamomile that came in a frosted glass. Oversized hibiscus’ to put in her hair when they went dancing. And of course, her lily pendant necklace. She’d thought he was so clever. Witty. Most guys would buy her only roses, and think that was good enough. But not him. He always seemed to go above and beyond what most guys would do. How extraordinary. How lucky she was.
After everything she’s learned now, she still admires his cleverness. He was clever to make her fall in love with him. And clever enough to hide his wife and two kids while he did it.
♥
“Rose!”
She heard her roommate Alexis call her name, but didn’t respond. She sat cross legged on the vanity, bringing her face about an inch away from the mirror. Her eyebrows didn’t match, she was sure of it. The tweezers did their dirty work, digging up the stubborn ingrown hairs while Rose’s eyes watered.
“Rose!” Alexis yelled up again.
“One minute,” Rose replied in a normal voice, indifferent to whether Alexis heard her or not. Beyonce’s voice blared from the stereo downstairs, with Alexis singing off-key along with her.
“Your eyebrows are fine! Come down here and help me with this wine.”
Sighing, Rose slid off the counter and headed back to her room to find a pair of shoes. Mostly she wore flats, but Alexis always rolled her eyes when Rose didn’t dress up on their nights out. Whenever Rose complained that heels hurt her feet, Alexis told her that was the point and to suck it up. And besides, heels made a girl’s calves look thinner and her butt stick out, and didn’t she want to be sexy?
Alexis was in the middle of the room, holding a cup of red wine while trying to perfect the ‘Single Ladies’ dance. The wine swayed from side to side, with a few drops splashing out every so often.
“Finally!” Alexis shouted when she saw Rose on the stairs. “I poured you a glass. Let’s go! Look at that!” Alexis pointed to Rose’s feet, still shouting. She could never control her volume when she got tipsy. “You wore heels, without me even having to tell you. Someone’s on the prowl for a man tonight!”
Rose raised her eyebrows and picked up her glass. “You know I don’t care about finding a man. In fact, I’m much happier without one.”
Alexis just smiled at her and tipped her glass against Rose’s. “You’re only saying that because you haven’t met your soul mate yet. Trust me,” Alexis said, swirling her wine, “deep down, every girl wants a man.”
♥
The stool next to her made a quick metallic screech when he pulled it out. Rose could feel his eyes on her, but she ignored him, finishing her drink and turning away from him to talk to Alexis.
“Another one?” the bartender asked her, and Rose said yes.
“Put it on my tab,” the man on the stool said. When she turned to look at him, he gave her a small half-smile and raised his beer, tilting it slightly in her direction.
“Oliver,” he said simply, pointing at himself with his free hand. Then he pointed at her.
“Rose,” she said. Next to her, she felt Alexis turn to look over at him as well.
“Rose,” he repeated, giving her a full smile. “I have a question for you, Rose.”
She waited for him to continue, although she knew what was coming.
“How do you feel about a game of pool?”
Alexis let out a snort of laughter. Rose blinked a couple times, trying to understand the question. It had not been what she expected, after all, and now she was thrown.
“Pool?” she finally repeated.
“One game. But if I win, you have to give me your phone number.”
Alexis nudged her in the back. Rose squared her shoulders. “What if I win?” she asked.
He stood up, his eyes never leaving her face. “That’s for you to decide,” he said, and held out his hand.
♥
November slowly turned into December, then January. Usually, Rose hated winter. Too much snow turned grey by pollution and the general hassle of living in Chicago, too many times where she would slip on hidden ice. Yet this winter was different, and Rose knew it was because of Oliver. Winter wasn’t as cold if you had another body to keep you warm.
He took her to his favorite bar in Chicago, where they danced the Charleston, the salsa, and one night they both tried belly dancing. Rose laughed as Oliver rolled up his shirt, grossly exaggerating the movements and wiggling his hips off beat. One weekend he took her up to Michigan, where they stayed in an extravagant hotel with an indoor water park and stone massages. They didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day because Oliver said he hated the Hallmark holidays, but the next time he saw her he gave her perfume and a case of vintage Bordeaux red wine. He didn’t seem to mind when she didn’t give anything to him.
Spring, finally. She could see baby flowers turning slowly towards the sun, little rabbits emerging from underground. She turned 25 on March 12; he turned 32 the next week. They had planned to go to dinner in the middle of the two dates, but he showed up at her door the day before her birthday with a picnic basket and a smile.
“We’re going out, on a picnic,” he said grabbing her hand and kissing each finger.
“We’re going on a picnic? In Chicago?” Rose raised an eyebrow at him, tugging her hand away without any real effort, and he didn’t let go.
“Yes, in Chicago. Specifically, Millennium Park. Make sure you wear your bathing suit. They turned the faces on last week.” He let go of her hand then, and gently nudged her towards the stairs. “Hurry.”
Alexis sat on the couch, the TV on but muted. As Rose came hurrying down the stairs, stuffing a towel into a beach bag, Alexis gave her a small smile and wiggled her eyebrows.
“Still think you’re happier without a man?” She had been saying this ever since Rose went on her first date with Oliver, a week after their pool game.
“Shut up,” Rose said, giving a small wave over her shoulder as Oliver led her to his car, his hand gently resting on the small of her back.
♥
“You know, if you keep holding the necklace, the rest of us can’t really see the pendant.”
Rose looked down, slightly blushing. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it.” She unwound her fingers from the lily pendant and watched the light bounce off the crystals and onto the table. She smiled. “I just love it so much. I feel like I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”
“Because you haven’t been saying that all week,” Alexis said, taking a sip of her wine. She gave Rose a teasing smirk. “Any day now, you’re going to move in with him and leave me all alone. I guess I should start looking for some cats to keep me company now.”
“It’s only been five months, Alexis. Don’t be crazy.”
“I’m not crazy. You are so in love with him. I see you blushing, don’t lie to me,” Alexis said as Rose looked down at the table. “This is what girlfriend’s are for. And we’re going to sit here and discuss every wonderful thing about Oliver after I get back from the bathroom.” She stood up, grabbed her bag, and started towards the front of the restaurant.
Rose sat there, tracing the rim of her wine glass with her finger, thinking about Oliver. It was true, she loved him. When she thought about it, about falling in love, in love with Oliver, she got a swooping sensation in the pit of her stomach. It left her slightly short of breath, and with the feeling that she finally understood the mystery of the Universe. You needed love to see the world clearly, and now Rose had it.
“Would you like another glass of wine, miss?” The waitress had appeared at the table, startling Rose. “I’ll wait until your friend comes back to take your order.”
“That would be nice,” Rose said, and slid the glass towards her. As the waitress was refilling it, Alexis came back, slightly breathless and looking shell shocked.
“We need to leave, now. Grab your stuff.” Alexis yanked her jacket off the back of her chair, put a 20 dollar bill on the table, and glared at Rose. “Let’s go.” She grabbed Rose’s purse when she didn’t move. “I promise you, you need to leave this place.”
Rose stood up slowly, trying to read the emotion on Alexis’ face while she slid her arms into her coat. Alexis took hold of her arm and started pulling her towards the exit, ignoring the waitress’ questions.
“Don’t stop. Whatever you do, don’t stop,” Alexis muttered to her as they approached the revolving door. Rose wanted to ask what had happened, but just as she started to speak, she saw him.
Oliver was standing at the podium, talking to the hostess. To his left was a blonde woman, perhaps in her late thirties, wearing a black long-sleeved dress and pumps. She had on a strand of pearls, and a patent leather bag. Behind her stood two young boys, playing with action figures. But these details only came to her later. At that moment, all Rose saw was how Oliver had her hand firmly interlaced with his. She watched his thumb as it traced patterns along her skin, and she watched as the blonde woman gave him a squeeze back.
She couldn’t say anything before Alexis had pulled her through the door. Rose stumbled, unsure of how to stand up anymore. Her entire body was trembling, and her breaths came in quick gasps. The lily cut into her palm, which had grabbed the pendant once again without her conscious permission. She started to pull downwards on it, to get it off her neck, but she couldn’t make her muscles cooperate.
“Just keep moving,” Alexis said.
♥
The houses pass by on the right, porch lights twinkling. There is a park to her left, with swing sets and tubes for kids to climb through, slides for the exit. Rose wants to get out of this neighborhood. She doesn’t want to see nice houses with parents watching TV while their kids sleep soundly in their beds. The peace and security found in this neighborhood makes Rose nauseous. If the houses instead had boards in the windows, if the swings were torn from their chains and the slides were covered with graffiti, then she would feel better. She takes a swig from the wine bottle, spilling it on her lap as she pulls it away from her mouth.
“Damn, shit,” Rose swears, punching the steering wheel twice before transferring the bottle of wine from her right hand to her left. Reaching across the passenger seat, Rose fumbles with the glove compartment latch, trying to find the stash of napkins she always keeps there. Finally she gets it, and everything tumbles out, the napkins, a Nutri-grain bar, the car manual, her insurance cards. They spill before she knows what is happening, and Rose swerves as she tries to grab everything and put it back.
The wine bottle shatters against the steering wheel, drenching Rose and the car seats. This seems to have happened before anything, except when she looks out her windshield, she finds her view partially obstructed by the crumpled hood of her car. Beyond that, a silhouette of something, relatively straight-it’s a pole with a perpendicular rectangle coming off of one side. She squints. A mailbox? What is a mailbox doing in front of her car?
Shaking, she removes her seat belt and gets out of the car. The mailbox rests at an angle, her tire pressing against its stand. As she watches, the weight of her car causes the mailbox to shift another inch. Pretty soon, it will be completely out of the ground.
Rose quickly gets back in her car, throwing it into reverse without looking behind her. Her tire leaves a clear track on the freshly mowed grass. Panic, or maybe adrenaline, starts pulsing through her body. Time seems to slow, but she knows it’s simply an illusion. Any minute now, the family inside will come out, demanding explanations. Demanding payment. She can’t do it, she can’t face them, having to watch the happiness fade from their faces and be replaced with disbelief, with anger. She never wanted to cause anyone pain or sadness; she was just looking for an escape from her own troubles. But now she’s brought other people down with her, into her black hole of a broken heart.
Even with the adrenaline, Rose is frozen in the seat, trying to figure out a way to undo the entire night. No, the entire past five months. To go back to the game of pool she let Oliver win, and tell him no, that she is happier without a man in her life, and besides, she hates wearing heels, even if they make her legs look great. She wants to go back to her childhood, where there were no such things as wine or wives or tire tracks on a stranger’s lawn. Even further-back to her mother’s womb, where she knew nothing except the feel of being surrounded by water and the sound of her mother’s voice.
A light turns on upstairs, and Rose comes back to the present. The longer she sits here, the more chance of someone finding her. She doesn’t want these people to know her as the drunk who ruined their mailbox. They’ll call the police in an instant, they won’t bother to listen to her excuse. The thought of being arrested, of sleeping in a jail next to a man with his front teeth missing and a teenager with a skull tattooed on the back of his head, terrifies her. She puts her hand to her mouth to stop the sobs from escaping, and the lily pendant is cold against her lips.
Before she leaves, she takes the necklace and places it inside the mailbox. She hopes that maybe, if the people inside the house are smart, they might take it to a pawn shop and the money they receive will cover a good portion of the repairs. Then, later, a young man, fresh out from college, will walk past the same pawn store and the light would catch the crystals just right to grab his attention. He will buy the necklace and bring it home to his girlfriend, to their small apartment on the poorer side of town, but they don’t mind this because they are together. Her eyes will light up as she opens it, and she will feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
She turns the corner, barely slowing. It’s a neighborhood street, quiet in the dark. She would’ve preferred a highway exit, where drivers are expected to be unpredictable, driving racecar fast, weaving through lanes, horns blaring, but a neighborhood is what she found. It doesn’t matter where she is anyway, as long as she’s moving away.
There’s no one around to see her. No one to see the thin chain interwoven throughout the fingers of her left hand, lily pendant swinging, or the half finished bottle of red wine in her right. No one sees her too-wide turn, where she almost hits a parked silver Honda before she finally manages to drive down the street in a semi-straight line. At least it’s too late for kids to be playing outside. She doesn’t want to kill anyone, not even him. Surprisingly, not even herself. Well-she doesn’t think so.
The wine was a gift from him, on her 25th birthday. The lily pendant, too. He bought it for her as a joke. Rose, he’d say to her, that’s a nice name, but it’s a bit cliché. Everyone buys roses for their girlfriends. So instead he’d bought her every other flower: bright daffodils for their picnics, the perfume infused with violets and chamomile that came in a frosted glass. Oversized hibiscus’ to put in her hair when they went dancing. And of course, her lily pendant necklace. She’d thought he was so clever. Witty. Most guys would buy her only roses, and think that was good enough. But not him. He always seemed to go above and beyond what most guys would do. How extraordinary. How lucky she was.
After everything she’s learned now, she still admires his cleverness. He was clever to make her fall in love with him. And clever enough to hide his wife and two kids while he did it.
♥
“Rose!”
She heard her roommate Alexis call her name, but didn’t respond. She sat cross legged on the vanity, bringing her face about an inch away from the mirror. Her eyebrows didn’t match, she was sure of it. The tweezers did their dirty work, digging up the stubborn ingrown hairs while Rose’s eyes watered.
“Rose!” Alexis yelled up again.
“One minute,” Rose replied in a normal voice, indifferent to whether Alexis heard her or not. Beyonce’s voice blared from the stereo downstairs, with Alexis singing off-key along with her.
“Your eyebrows are fine! Come down here and help me with this wine.”
Sighing, Rose slid off the counter and headed back to her room to find a pair of shoes. Mostly she wore flats, but Alexis always rolled her eyes when Rose didn’t dress up on their nights out. Whenever Rose complained that heels hurt her feet, Alexis told her that was the point and to suck it up. And besides, heels made a girl’s calves look thinner and her butt stick out, and didn’t she want to be sexy?
Alexis was in the middle of the room, holding a cup of red wine while trying to perfect the ‘Single Ladies’ dance. The wine swayed from side to side, with a few drops splashing out every so often.
“Finally!” Alexis shouted when she saw Rose on the stairs. “I poured you a glass. Let’s go! Look at that!” Alexis pointed to Rose’s feet, still shouting. She could never control her volume when she got tipsy. “You wore heels, without me even having to tell you. Someone’s on the prowl for a man tonight!”
Rose raised her eyebrows and picked up her glass. “You know I don’t care about finding a man. In fact, I’m much happier without one.”
Alexis just smiled at her and tipped her glass against Rose’s. “You’re only saying that because you haven’t met your soul mate yet. Trust me,” Alexis said, swirling her wine, “deep down, every girl wants a man.”
♥
The stool next to her made a quick metallic screech when he pulled it out. Rose could feel his eyes on her, but she ignored him, finishing her drink and turning away from him to talk to Alexis.
“Another one?” the bartender asked her, and Rose said yes.
“Put it on my tab,” the man on the stool said. When she turned to look at him, he gave her a small half-smile and raised his beer, tilting it slightly in her direction.
“Oliver,” he said simply, pointing at himself with his free hand. Then he pointed at her.
“Rose,” she said. Next to her, she felt Alexis turn to look over at him as well.
“Rose,” he repeated, giving her a full smile. “I have a question for you, Rose.”
She waited for him to continue, although she knew what was coming.
“How do you feel about a game of pool?”
Alexis let out a snort of laughter. Rose blinked a couple times, trying to understand the question. It had not been what she expected, after all, and now she was thrown.
“Pool?” she finally repeated.
“One game. But if I win, you have to give me your phone number.”
Alexis nudged her in the back. Rose squared her shoulders. “What if I win?” she asked.
He stood up, his eyes never leaving her face. “That’s for you to decide,” he said, and held out his hand.
♥
November slowly turned into December, then January. Usually, Rose hated winter. Too much snow turned grey by pollution and the general hassle of living in Chicago, too many times where she would slip on hidden ice. Yet this winter was different, and Rose knew it was because of Oliver. Winter wasn’t as cold if you had another body to keep you warm.
He took her to his favorite bar in Chicago, where they danced the Charleston, the salsa, and one night they both tried belly dancing. Rose laughed as Oliver rolled up his shirt, grossly exaggerating the movements and wiggling his hips off beat. One weekend he took her up to Michigan, where they stayed in an extravagant hotel with an indoor water park and stone massages. They didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day because Oliver said he hated the Hallmark holidays, but the next time he saw her he gave her perfume and a case of vintage Bordeaux red wine. He didn’t seem to mind when she didn’t give anything to him.
Spring, finally. She could see baby flowers turning slowly towards the sun, little rabbits emerging from underground. She turned 25 on March 12; he turned 32 the next week. They had planned to go to dinner in the middle of the two dates, but he showed up at her door the day before her birthday with a picnic basket and a smile.
“We’re going out, on a picnic,” he said grabbing her hand and kissing each finger.
“We’re going on a picnic? In Chicago?” Rose raised an eyebrow at him, tugging her hand away without any real effort, and he didn’t let go.
“Yes, in Chicago. Specifically, Millennium Park. Make sure you wear your bathing suit. They turned the faces on last week.” He let go of her hand then, and gently nudged her towards the stairs. “Hurry.”
Alexis sat on the couch, the TV on but muted. As Rose came hurrying down the stairs, stuffing a towel into a beach bag, Alexis gave her a small smile and wiggled her eyebrows.
“Still think you’re happier without a man?” She had been saying this ever since Rose went on her first date with Oliver, a week after their pool game.
“Shut up,” Rose said, giving a small wave over her shoulder as Oliver led her to his car, his hand gently resting on the small of her back.
♥
“You know, if you keep holding the necklace, the rest of us can’t really see the pendant.”
Rose looked down, slightly blushing. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it.” She unwound her fingers from the lily pendant and watched the light bounce off the crystals and onto the table. She smiled. “I just love it so much. I feel like I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”
“Because you haven’t been saying that all week,” Alexis said, taking a sip of her wine. She gave Rose a teasing smirk. “Any day now, you’re going to move in with him and leave me all alone. I guess I should start looking for some cats to keep me company now.”
“It’s only been five months, Alexis. Don’t be crazy.”
“I’m not crazy. You are so in love with him. I see you blushing, don’t lie to me,” Alexis said as Rose looked down at the table. “This is what girlfriend’s are for. And we’re going to sit here and discuss every wonderful thing about Oliver after I get back from the bathroom.” She stood up, grabbed her bag, and started towards the front of the restaurant.
Rose sat there, tracing the rim of her wine glass with her finger, thinking about Oliver. It was true, she loved him. When she thought about it, about falling in love, in love with Oliver, she got a swooping sensation in the pit of her stomach. It left her slightly short of breath, and with the feeling that she finally understood the mystery of the Universe. You needed love to see the world clearly, and now Rose had it.
“Would you like another glass of wine, miss?” The waitress had appeared at the table, startling Rose. “I’ll wait until your friend comes back to take your order.”
“That would be nice,” Rose said, and slid the glass towards her. As the waitress was refilling it, Alexis came back, slightly breathless and looking shell shocked.
“We need to leave, now. Grab your stuff.” Alexis yanked her jacket off the back of her chair, put a 20 dollar bill on the table, and glared at Rose. “Let’s go.” She grabbed Rose’s purse when she didn’t move. “I promise you, you need to leave this place.”
Rose stood up slowly, trying to read the emotion on Alexis’ face while she slid her arms into her coat. Alexis took hold of her arm and started pulling her towards the exit, ignoring the waitress’ questions.
“Don’t stop. Whatever you do, don’t stop,” Alexis muttered to her as they approached the revolving door. Rose wanted to ask what had happened, but just as she started to speak, she saw him.
Oliver was standing at the podium, talking to the hostess. To his left was a blonde woman, perhaps in her late thirties, wearing a black long-sleeved dress and pumps. She had on a strand of pearls, and a patent leather bag. Behind her stood two young boys, playing with action figures. But these details only came to her later. At that moment, all Rose saw was how Oliver had her hand firmly interlaced with his. She watched his thumb as it traced patterns along her skin, and she watched as the blonde woman gave him a squeeze back.
She couldn’t say anything before Alexis had pulled her through the door. Rose stumbled, unsure of how to stand up anymore. Her entire body was trembling, and her breaths came in quick gasps. The lily cut into her palm, which had grabbed the pendant once again without her conscious permission. She started to pull downwards on it, to get it off her neck, but she couldn’t make her muscles cooperate.
“Just keep moving,” Alexis said.
♥
The houses pass by on the right, porch lights twinkling. There is a park to her left, with swing sets and tubes for kids to climb through, slides for the exit. Rose wants to get out of this neighborhood. She doesn’t want to see nice houses with parents watching TV while their kids sleep soundly in their beds. The peace and security found in this neighborhood makes Rose nauseous. If the houses instead had boards in the windows, if the swings were torn from their chains and the slides were covered with graffiti, then she would feel better. She takes a swig from the wine bottle, spilling it on her lap as she pulls it away from her mouth.
“Damn, shit,” Rose swears, punching the steering wheel twice before transferring the bottle of wine from her right hand to her left. Reaching across the passenger seat, Rose fumbles with the glove compartment latch, trying to find the stash of napkins she always keeps there. Finally she gets it, and everything tumbles out, the napkins, a Nutri-grain bar, the car manual, her insurance cards. They spill before she knows what is happening, and Rose swerves as she tries to grab everything and put it back.
The wine bottle shatters against the steering wheel, drenching Rose and the car seats. This seems to have happened before anything, except when she looks out her windshield, she finds her view partially obstructed by the crumpled hood of her car. Beyond that, a silhouette of something, relatively straight-it’s a pole with a perpendicular rectangle coming off of one side. She squints. A mailbox? What is a mailbox doing in front of her car?
Shaking, she removes her seat belt and gets out of the car. The mailbox rests at an angle, her tire pressing against its stand. As she watches, the weight of her car causes the mailbox to shift another inch. Pretty soon, it will be completely out of the ground.
Rose quickly gets back in her car, throwing it into reverse without looking behind her. Her tire leaves a clear track on the freshly mowed grass. Panic, or maybe adrenaline, starts pulsing through her body. Time seems to slow, but she knows it’s simply an illusion. Any minute now, the family inside will come out, demanding explanations. Demanding payment. She can’t do it, she can’t face them, having to watch the happiness fade from their faces and be replaced with disbelief, with anger. She never wanted to cause anyone pain or sadness; she was just looking for an escape from her own troubles. But now she’s brought other people down with her, into her black hole of a broken heart.
Even with the adrenaline, Rose is frozen in the seat, trying to figure out a way to undo the entire night. No, the entire past five months. To go back to the game of pool she let Oliver win, and tell him no, that she is happier without a man in her life, and besides, she hates wearing heels, even if they make her legs look great. She wants to go back to her childhood, where there were no such things as wine or wives or tire tracks on a stranger’s lawn. Even further-back to her mother’s womb, where she knew nothing except the feel of being surrounded by water and the sound of her mother’s voice.
A light turns on upstairs, and Rose comes back to the present. The longer she sits here, the more chance of someone finding her. She doesn’t want these people to know her as the drunk who ruined their mailbox. They’ll call the police in an instant, they won’t bother to listen to her excuse. The thought of being arrested, of sleeping in a jail next to a man with his front teeth missing and a teenager with a skull tattooed on the back of his head, terrifies her. She puts her hand to her mouth to stop the sobs from escaping, and the lily pendant is cold against her lips.
Before she leaves, she takes the necklace and places it inside the mailbox. She hopes that maybe, if the people inside the house are smart, they might take it to a pawn shop and the money they receive will cover a good portion of the repairs. Then, later, a young man, fresh out from college, will walk past the same pawn store and the light would catch the crystals just right to grab his attention. He will buy the necklace and bring it home to his girlfriend, to their small apartment on the poorer side of town, but they don’t mind this because they are together. Her eyes will light up as she opens it, and she will feel like the luckiest girl in the world.