“I’ll start with a washcloth,” I said, and began to take off my clothes.

“That’s all we really do,” she said in a whisper, and left.

She returned a while later with the first kettle. I saw she was struggling to carry it, so I helped pour it in.

“A quick dip will be enough, Hazel. Don’t bother with the second kettle,” I said. She looked relieved.

“You leave your clothes, and I’ll get them washed later tonight,” she promised, and left me.

A quick dip it was, and then I dried and dressed myself. I fixed my hair, brushing it back and tying it. The mirror they had was faded in spots, but I saw enough of myself to be content. When I stepped into the living room, my great-aunt was so surprised to see me that Hazel had to reintroduce me.

“You look a lot like my sister,” she said.

We had only one good photo of my grandmother, and I didn’t think I looked anything like her. She wasn’t ugly by any means, but her face was rounder, her eyes smaller, and her mouth not as feminine as mine. Luckily, my mother looked more like her very handsome father, who had been a colonel in the Confederate Army. I loved the picture of him in uniform. He died before I was born and remained a debonair ghost.

As I sat across from the two of them, I wondered what I could possibly talk about that would make any sense to these two. I found myself babbling about our house and my cycling and then decided to tell them about the Wexler gala. They both sat transfixed as I described the size of the estate, the decorations, and the food. I was tempted to go up and get into the dress. Hazel remembered I had mentioned it in my letter.

“We’d love to see you in it, wouldn’t we, Nettie?”

My aunt nodded but looked like she had no idea why she should.

“Maybe later,” I said.

Finally, I thought I would mention Garland.

“I met a fine gentleman who lives outside of Charlottesville,” I said.

“Oh, did you now?” Hazel asked.

“What?” Great-aunt Nettie asked, and Hazel repeated what I had said.

“She met a fine gentleman,” Hazel said. “As pretty as she is, that’s no surprise, is it, Nettie?” She smiled and nodded at me. “I bet you have quite the full dancin’ card whenever you go to one of those fancy dos.”

I didn’t want to say the Wexler gala was my first big event. I wanted to appear as grown-up as possible so they’d be less concerned about my seeing someone while I was here. I decided to mention it now.

“He might come calling. I told him where I would be,” I said.

“Well, won’t that be somethin’?” Hazel said. “He might come callin’,” she told my great-aunt.

“Who?”

“Yes, who, dear?” Hazel asked.

“His name is Garland Foxworth,” I said. “He’s in business with my father’s bank.”