“How could you do that?” she railed at her mother, and accused her sister of lying to her, and finally Ginny broke down.
“Why should Mom pay both our tuitions because you want to make a statement and are willing to make Dad mad? It's just not fair to her.” Veronica had refused to visit Chauncey in Newport that summer, in protest of the position he'd taken. Ginny had dutifully gone there alone the weekend after they got home from Europe. “It's just not right. Why should Mom be punished because you won't do it?” Ginny had finally gotten under her skin, as had Harry's mother, who quietly took Veronica to lunch before they left, and asked her to be a good sport about it. And on her last night in New York, she agreed. Veronica swore she would hate doing it, and still disapproved of it violently, but her father's unreasonable position finally did it for her. She didn't want him to penalize their mother, so she grudgingly agreed. Olympia thanked her profusely, and promised to try and make it as painless as possible for her. Veronica tried on the dress and said she hated it, but it looked spectacular on her. She didn't have an escort yet, but promised to think about it. She had to give the committee his name by Thanksgiving.
“What about one of Charlie's friends?” Olympia suggested, and Veronica said she'd come up with someone herself. It was enough for now that she had agreed to do it, she didn't want to be bugged about her escort, so Olympia backed off. The only remaining protester was Harry, who refused to even discuss the matter with her. He was disappointed that Veronica had conceded, but given her father's manipulative and punitive position, he agreed that it had been the decent thing for her to do, for her mother's sake. But there was no penalty for his not attending. He refused to reconsider, and said nothing on earth could make him go. He was incredibly stubborn about it, and insisted it was a matter of principle. Charlie attempted to broach the subject with him before he left for his senior year at Dartmouth, and Harry changed the subject whenever Charlie mentioned it. It was clear to everyone, including Max, that Harry wouldn't go. Despite the wonderful time they had shared in Europe, Harry hadn't mellowed a bit about the ball.
Olympia and Charlie had lunch together on his last weekend at home, and he seemed relaxed and happy after the summer. He seemed more at ease in his own skin than he had in June, and she was no longer worried about him. He was busy with his friends in the city, said he was looking forward to the school year, and planning to apply to divinity school that fall. He was also talking about doing graduate studies at Oxford, or taking a year off and traveling, or maybe taking a job he'd been offered in San Francisco, working for his roommate's father. He hadn't made his mind up yet about his many options, all of which sounded reasonable to his mother and Harry. She felt sorry for him at times, he seemed so young. It was so hard to make definitive life choices and the right decisions. He was a responsible boy, and a good student, everyone he met liked him. He was thinking about a teaching job, too. He was all over the map.
“Poor kid, I'd hate to be young again,” Olympia commented to Harry the day she'd had lunch with Charlie. “He's feeling pulled in about four hundred directions. His father wants him to come to Newport and train polo ponies with him. Thank God that's not one of the options he's considering.” Nor was working in Chauncey's family's bank in New York. He had decided against it. Charlie wanted to do something different, he just hadn't figured out what yet. Harry thought he should go to Oxford. Olympia liked the sound of the job in San Francisco. And Charlie himself wasn't sure. Harry had also suggested law school, which Charlie had resisted. He still liked the idea of divinity school best of all. “I can't see him as a minister,” Olympia said honestly, although he was religious, more so than the rest of the family.
“Maybe it would suit him,” Harry said, looking pensive. “He won't make money at it. It would be nice if he had another option, something a little more profit-oriented.” The job in San Francisco was actually in Palo Alto, with a computer company, which Olympia had encouraged him to seriously consider. He was planning to go out and visit his friend and his father after Christmas, after he escorted his sister to the deb ball. The whole family was planning to go to Aspen for Christmas, which sounded like a great idea to all. Before the ball, they would celebrate Chanukah in New York.
The day after Charlie left, Frieda and Olympia went shopping for dresses for the ball. They went to Saks and Bergdorf, and finally found dresses at Barney's that were exactly what they both wanted. A narrow navy satin dress for Olympia with a matching stole, and a black velvet long-sleeved high-necked gown for Frieda, which was flattering, age appropriate, and demure. They returned victorious from their shopping venture. They had tea at Frieda's apartment afterward and chatted like two girls, as they both kicked their shoes off. It seemed as if Frieda was getting more excited hourly about the ball. Now that she had a dress, she could really look forward to it. She said she was going to wear it with the small diamond earrings Harry and Olympia had given her for her seventy-fifth birthday, and a string of pearls from Harry's father.
“I'm worried about Charlie,” Olympia admitted, as they sat in Frieda's cozy kitchen. Her house was immaculate, and she was proud of the fact that she still cleaned it herself. She was lively and independent, and proudly refused all of Harry's offers to get help for her. “The poor kid has so many choices about what to do after college. He seems so confused.”
“He's still young. He'll find his way. How is his relationship with his father these days?” She knew it had been strained off and on over the past fifteen years. Chauncey was always disappointing. He seemed to be far more interested in the three daughters he had with Felicia than the three children from his previous marriage. The twins didn't seem bothered by it, but Charlie always felt let down by him. Harry did his best to be supportive of him, but Charlie's own father's seeming indifference to him weighed heavily on him. It was just the way Chauncey was. Superficial, with a short attention span, and a strong dislike for responsibility. If it wasn't fun, and couldn't be done on horseback, he didn't do it. He had always wanted Charlie to play polo, and was annoyed he hadn't. Charlie had told Frieda on several occasions that he thought it was a stupid game.
“His relationship with Chauncey is nonexistent,” Olympia said, looking troubled. “And Harry is so busy, he doesn't have a lot of time to spend with him. Charlie doesn't open up a lot with anyone these days.” She told her then of his friend's suicide the previous spring. “He didn't say much about it, but I got a bill for counseling from Dartmouth, and he said that's why he went. He was still upset when he came home in June. But he was his old self in August when he came back from Colorado.”
“Do you think he's okay?” Frieda looked concerned. She had the broad interests and perceptions of a much younger woman, rather than the indifference and fatigue more typical of her age.
“I do,” Olympia said cautiously. “I think he's a deep thinker, and keeps a lot to himself. He doesn't confide in me as much as he used to. I guess that's normal, but I worry anyway.”
“Does he have a girlfriend?” Frieda had lost track of his pursuits over the summer. He hadn't spent much time in the city after his job in Colorado, before he left to go back to Dartmouth again. Time always moved too quickly, and he'd been busy with friends.
“No one in particular. He went out with a few of Veronica and Ginny's friends this summer. He had a girlfriend sophomore year, but they broke up over Christmas that year. I don't think there's been anyone important since then, and maybe he was too depressed about his friend this spring. He didn't mention meeting anyone important in Colorado this summer. He's pretty picky for a kid his age.” Frieda nodded. He was a decent, sensitive, considerate boy, who spent a lot of time with his sisters and brother, had a strong bond to his mother, and a deep affection for Harry. She had a feeling that the ministry really might be the right choice for him. And then she smiled at her daughter-in-law, as she poured them both another cup of tea. They had had a lovely afternoon together, as they always did.
“Maybe he should be a rabbi, in
stead of a minister. My father was a wonderful rabbi, he was so kind with people, and such a wise, learned man.” It was rare that she spoke of her parents, and it always touched Olympia when she did.
“Chauncey would be thrilled.” They both laughed at the thought of her snobbish ex-husband's reaction to Charlie converting and becoming a rabbi. “I love the idea. It would drive him insane.”
Frieda had only met Chauncey and Felicia once, and he had been barely civil to her. She wasn't even a blip on his radar screen. He had instantly dismissed her, as he did anyone who was not part of his familiar social world. Olympia knew he would be annoyed that she had invited Frieda to The Arches. More than likely, he would ignore her, and he would be even more upset that she had invited Margaret Washington to join them as well. Elderly Jewish women and African Americans were not Chauncey's idea of appropriate guests for a debutante cotillion. It was easy for Olympia to imagine the kind of guests they would bring, if they did. All very Social Register, snobbishly aristocratic, and boring as dirt. At least Frieda was fun and interesting to talk to, she had traveled widely, read constantly, loved to talk politics, and had a warm way with people. And Margaret was one of the smartest people Olympia knew. She was still upset that Harry said he wouldn't be there. He had dug his heels in and refused to discuss it with her. She had given up by then, and Frieda nearly had, too. The ball was still three months away. At least now they both had dresses, as did the girls. The conversation moved on to some of Olympia's cases, and a scandal in the Senate that had recently been in the news.
Olympia didn't leave till nearly dinnertime. When she got home, Harry was cooking dinner, Max was helping him. They had made a huge mess in the kitchen, but they seemed to be having fun. Harry had lit the barbecue in the garden, and they were having steak. Max had just started first grade.
“Where have you been?” Harry inquired as she kissed him and then bent to give her son a hug.
“Shopping with your mother,” she said, looking happy to be with them. It was the kind of cozy, domestic scene she loved.
“Was she okay?” he asked, as he put the steaks on a tray. It was still warm outside.
“Fine. We found her a really pretty dress for the ball.”
“Oh that,” he said, frowning, and then walked outside to put the steaks on the barbecue, as Max turned to his mother.
“He's still not going,” Max said with a serious expression.
“I know.” Olympia smiled at her youngest son.
“You're not mad at him anymore?” Max was concerned.
“No. He has a right to his opinions.” As she said it, Harry walked back in, and she spoke directly to him. “Although your position about not going to the ball is actually discriminatory. You're discriminating against WASPs.”
“They're discriminating against blacks and Jews.”
“I guess you're even then,” she said calmly. “I'm not sure one discrimination is better than the other. It seems about the same to me.”
“You've been talking to my mother,” he said, tossing the salad. “She just wants an excuse to get dressed up. You all do. You're losing sight of what this kind of thing means.”
“It's just a rite of passage, Harry. There's no malice behind it, and the girls will be disappointed if you don't go. That seems worse to me, hurting people you love and who love you, in order to make a statement to people you don't know, and who won't care that you're not there. We will.”
“You'll be fine without me. Max and I will stay here.”
“What are they going to come out of?” Max asked, still confused about what the girls would be doing, and how Charlie would help them, while his mother and grandmother watched. Although he knew his father disapproved.
“The girls are going to walk out on a big stage, under an archway of flowers, and they will make a curtsy, like this.” She demonstrated it for him, sinking gracefully with her head up and back straight, and then coming back up again with her arms extended like a ballerina.
“That's it?” Max looked intrigued, as Harry went to turn the steaks on the barbecue. He had seen her curtsy and pretended he didn't. He didn't want to know.
“That's it. It looks better in a long dress.”
“That looked pretty good.” Max looked impressed. His mother was pretty, and so were his sisters. He was proud of all of them, and Charlie and his dad, too. “Do the girls know how to do that?” He hadn't seen them practice and it looked hard to him. He suspected correctly that it was harder than it looked.
“Not yet, but they will. They'll have a rehearsal that afternoon before the ball.”
“I bet they do it better than everyone else,” Max said with certainty. “What will Charlie do?”
“He'll stand next to Ginny while she does it, and then give her his arm, and they'll walk down the stairs. And afterward, the girls will dance with their dad.”
“Both of them at the same time?” It sounded complicated to Max.
“No, one at a time.” The other twin could have danced with Harry, if he'd been there, and then switched. This way, without him, they would have to take turns.
“Who's going to walk Veronica down the stairs?”
“We don't know yet. Veronica has to figure it out by Thanksgiving.”
“He better be good, so he can catch her if she falls over while she does that thing you just did, or if she falls down the stairs.” Harry and Olympia both laughed and their eyes met, as he put their steaks on plates. And then suddenly Olympia laughed at the memory of her own escort. She hadn't thought of it in years.
“My date got drunk before we got out onstage. He passed out, and they had to find another boy to go onstage with me. I'd never met him before, but he was very nice.”
“I bet they got really mad at the one who got drunk.”
“Yes, they did.” She remembered, too, and didn't mention, that it had been the last time she danced with her father. He had died the following year, and later she had cherished the bittersweet memory of her last dance with him. It had been an important night for her, just as she hoped it would be for the girls. Not a life-changing moment, but one that, in retrospect, had always meant a lot to her. She had never given it any particular social importance or significance. It had just been a night when she felt special and important, and everyone had made a fuss over her. She had never felt that beautiful again until her wedding day. Other events in her life had had deeper meaning, her marriages to Chauncey and later Harry, the births of her children, her graduation from Vassar and later Columbia Law School, the day she learned she had passed the bar. But that one night at The Arches had meant a lot to her, too. Particularly the last dance with her dad.
“It sounds like a bat mitzvah,” Harry said quietly, as he listened to her.
“You're right,” she said gently. “It's all about how important a young girl is on that special day.” She had been to one or two with him over the years, and had been impressed by how special the girl being celebrated felt, as they made speeches about her, showed films of her childhood, and carried her mother around the room in a chair. Bar mitzvahs, for boys, were even more impressive, and also a rite of passage. They were all-important landmarks between adulthood and youth—officially, the end of your childhood, and your entry into an adult world. Watching Veronica and Virginia go through it was something she would have liked to share with him.
Harry still didn't see it that way. He thought it was more important to make a statement about the political incorrectness of the event. Max asked a number of questions about bar mitzvahs then, and Harry talked about his. It was a time he would always remember with tenderness and joy. Max was already excited thinking about his, and it was seven years away.
The girls called as Olympia and Harry were cleaning up after dinner. They liked their classes, and said everything was fine at school. They were sharing a suite with each other and two other girls. Charlie had a single room that year, as a lofty senior at Dartmouth. He had opted to live on campus, in the dorms. He had ta
lked about getting a house with a bunch of roommates, and decided against it in the end. He said he didn't mind living in the dorms again. They hadn't heard from him since the day he left. They knew he was busy, and had a lot to do as he started his senior year. None of the older children was coming home before Thanksgiving. It felt like too long to Olympia before she saw them again. It made her more grateful than ever that they had Max, and another twelve years to look forward to with him.
Harry and Olympia put Max to bed together that night. Harry read him a story, while Olympia kissed him and tucked him in. After they did, they went to their own room, and talked for a long time. They both had heavy workloads and important cases to deal with. They liked talking about their work and the things they did all day. She loved sharing all aspects of her life with him, and hearing what he thought. She valued his opinions and judgment, about all matters, except the deb ball. She thought he was being utterly absurd about that.
When she snuggled up next to him in bed that night, she was grateful for him. She loved the life and children they shared. It was a good life, filled with loving people, work they enjoyed, and children who were a perpetual blessing to them. She fell asleep in his arms as they whispered, and for the first time in months, the ball no longer seemed important, whether or not he attended. If not, it no longer mattered. She loved him anyway.
Chapter 4
All of the children came home for Thanksgiving. Charlie came home on Tuesday, the girls on Wednesday. They had just gone through the agony of midterms, and all three of the older children felt liberated and free. Max was thrilled to have them too, and loved playing with them. Charlie picked him up at school the day he got home, and took him to Central Park, to the zoo. He bought him hot chestnuts and a balloon. And the following afternoon, he took him skating. They returned with pink cheeks, bright eyes, and in great spirits. By the time they got home, the girls had arrived, and they shared a lively dinner before Charlie and the twins went out afterward to meet their friends. Their noisy presence in the house reminded Olympia of how much she loved having all of her children at home.
Coming Out Page 6
