The Good Fight

by Danielle Steel

  “They look nice,” Claudia said, glad they had come. It felt good to get dressed up, and she told Meredith she looked very pretty in the black dress. Several of the young men had already noticed them, as they all chatted for a while and helped themselves to fruit punch.

  “They’re all going to grow up to be killers one day, in some war or other,” Meredith said cynically, and Claudia scolded her.

  “Well, they’re not killers yet. Be nice, Merrie.” They exchanged a smile, as a particularly good-looking young cadet with blond hair and blue eyes approached them and introduced himself. His name was Seth Ballard, and he seemed riveted by Claudia, who blushed when she introduced herself, and Meredith smiled. The freshman boys had arrived at West Point as recently as the girls had arrived at Vassar, and they talked about their schools back home. Seth was from Virginia, and had just the faintest trace of a southern accent. His father was a retired colonel, and his grandfather a general, and his family had a horse farm in Virginia. He was third-generation West Point.

  “We’re second-generation Vassar,” Claudia said, referring to herself and Meredith.

  “How do you like it?” he asked them politely, and they said they did, and their classes were interesting so far. He left for a few minutes to find a friend to bring over to introduce to Meredith, and as soon as he left, Claudia asked Meredith quietly in German what she thought of him.

  “He seems pleasant, and he’s handsome. But he doesn’t look Jewish.” Meredith grinned at her, and liked the fact that they could speak a language no one else understood, so they could say whatever they wanted.

  “You sound like my mother. Who cares? I think he’s really cute,” Claudia responded.

  “If you get engaged freshman year, I won’t be your friend anymore,” Meredith warned her with a smile.

  “Don’t be stupid!” Claudia said, as Seth came back to them with a tall redheaded boy with freckles whose name was Christian. He was from Boston, and said he was second-generation West Point. He was very polite, and both boys asked them to dance when the music started up, and monopolized them for most of the evening. Magic didn’t happen between Christian and Meredith, but she had a good time with him. He was intelligent, and the oldest of six children. When the evening ended he said he hoped to see her again. She doubted they would, except at another mixer. Seth walked Claudia all the way to the bus and looked totally besotted with her, as he stood and waved while she disappeared with the chaperones and other girls.

  “You were a big hit!” Meredith said in German as they took their seat in the back of the bus again.

  “He’s so polite. I really like him,” Claudia said, looking starry-eyed. “He said he’d come to visit me at school sometime.”

  “Your mother will kill you. He must be Episcopalian for sure.”

  “Oh, shut up.” Claudia grinned mischievously. “He just wants to visit, not propose.”

  “Give him another week,” Meredith teased, and they chatted happily all the way back to school. Meredith admitted that it had been fun, and Christian had been interesting to talk to. He told her all about their classes and training at West Point, which sounded incredibly rigorous to her. It made Vassar seem like summer camp for girls.

  The two girls left each other outside Meredith’s room, and Claudia went upstairs to hers. Betty came in a few minutes later, and looked victorious. Three boys had asked to visit her, and during a break, she had chatted with one of the boys in the band. He was a senior, and wanted to see her again too. The evening had been a smash hit for her, and there was another mixer planned in a month or so with Yale. She planned to have a boyfriend by Christmas, she told Meredith, and a fiancé by June. She was on a mission, and so were her friends. They’d had a good time. The West Point cadets had been very hospitable to the Vassar girls. Meredith had enjoyed the evening too.

  The following weekend, Meredith’s parents came to visit her for Parents’ Weekend, and she introduced them to Claudia. Meredith told them afterward that Claudia was German but didn’t mention her war experiences, or that she’d been adopted by Americans. The subject seemed too serious to just mention casually.

  Her family walked around the campus together, and she told them about her classes. They took her to dinner that night, and the next day they left, satisfied that she was adjusting and making friends. She promised to come home for a weekend soon. Her mother wanted to take her shopping for her coming-out dress, and Meredith didn’t argue about it with her. It would be nice to go home for a weekend and see Alex too.

  When she got to New York three weeks later, he was ecstatic to see her. She’d asked Claudia if she was going home for the weekend, but Seth Ballard, the West Point cadet, was coming to visit her on Saturday, and she didn’t want to miss it. She was excited to see him, and he’d called her several times on the phone in their residence hall since the mixer. He obviously had a crush on her, and he was taking her to dinner on Saturday night. Claudia had gotten permission for it. They had a two-hour pass for dinner in town and had to be back by eight o’clock. The rules were very strict, and any infraction would result in not getting a pass the next time she asked.

  Robert and Janet were happy to see Merrie too, and the subject of her debut didn’t come up until dessert on Friday night. Alex had already left the table by then, and Janet listed all the stores they were going to visit the next day to find the dress. Meredith looked at her seriously and took a breath.

  “I told you, Mom, I’m not going to make my debut. I don’t want to, and I don’t believe in it. I won’t do it.”

  “What do you mean you ‘don’t believe in it’? What’s that supposed to mean?” Her mother looked confused.

  “They don’t let Jews come out at the cotillion, do they?”

  Her parents both looked shocked, as though she had slapped them.

  “What does that have to do with anything? We’re not Jewish,” her mother said tartly.

  “No, but it excludes Jews. And Negroes, I assume. It’s a discriminatory event, and I don’t want to be part of it.”

  Her father looked furious as she said it. “Did your grandfather tell you that?” he asked pointedly.

  “No. We didn’t talk about it. I just know from girls I’ve met at school that Jews are excluded. I don’t think that’s right. And the whole premise is wrong. I’m not looking for a husband, and I don’t want to be part of some kind of cattle call to show me off like a cow at auction.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Robert said, annoyed by the whole conversation and her stubbornness. “You wear a white dress, you look beautiful. You make your bow. And you’ve been officially presented to society. What’s wrong with that? And what difference does it make if there are Jewish girls in it or not? We’re not prejudiced. Why are you making such a fuss about this, Merrie? And no one is auctioning you off. It’s a party, that’s all.”

  “The purpose of which, historically, is to find a husband. I don’t want one. At least not yet. And not for a long time. I have better things to do with my life first, like law school.”

  “Making your debut and going to law school are not incompatible concepts or mutually exclusive,” he pointed out.

  “A debut is superfluous. And no, you’re not prejudiced, Dad. You spent four years prosecuting war criminals for crimes against the Jews. So why would you endorse a party that excludes them?”

  “I’m sure there are Jews there, for Heaven’s sake.”

  “But not the debutantes. Doesn’t that seem wrong to you?” She was putting him on the spot, and her mother hadn’t said a word. She had no idea what to say or how to respond, and left it to Robert to deal with her. She hated arguing with Meredith.

  “Yes, if you put it that way, it does seem wrong. But there are clubs that don’t accept Jews either. It’s always been that way,” her father explained calmly.

  “That doesn’t make it right. And buil
dings where they can’t buy apartments. What about this one? Can Jews buy apartments in our building?” She wasn’t letting up, much to her parents’ dismay. She was asking pertinent questions.

  “I have no idea,” he said, looking uncomfortable. In fact he did know, and they couldn’t buy in the building, but that had no bearing on whether Meredith made her debut or not. It was important to Janet, and to both of them, that she do it. It was a tradition they followed and believed in. And he didn’t want to lose that argument over whether or not Jews could buy apartments in their building.

  “You seem to have gotten very political since you went away to school, Meredith. Who’ve you been talking to?”

  “Claudia, my best friend at school, is Jewish. She’s German. Her whole family died in Auschwitz, and she survived. She was adopted by an American family after the war. You met her when you visitedme.”

  He was silent for a moment, faced with the memories Meredith had revived, and visions he would never forget. “That’s a terrible thing, Merrie. I can’t disagree with that. But coming out is an old tradition. And the cotillion is a very old club, of old New York families. One day, there probably will be Jewish debutantes presented. But that hasn’t happened yet, and this is important to us. I’d like you to put your political principles aside on this and do it, to make your mother happy. It’s not a lot to ask.”

  He tried to reason with her and remain gentle about it, and his wife looked at him gratefully. She had no idea what she’d say to her friends if her daughter didn’t come out. There was no possible excuse. They would be a laughingstock, or a pariah, if people knew the truth, that Merrie had refused.

  “It is a lot to ask. You’re asking me to forget my principles for a night, for a party. That’s not right.”

  “I’m asking you to do it for your parents, for us. Even your very liberal Democratic grandfather would like to be there and see you come out. He’s still part of the Establishment too. And he goes to the cotillion every year. He’ll be disappointed not to see you there, and so will we.”

  Meredith was quiet for a long moment and looked at her mother, with tears in her eyes. Meredith could see it really was important to her, and with a heavy heart, feeling as though she had betrayed everything she believed in, Meredith stood up and stared at them both.

  “All right. I’ll do it this time. But don’t ever ask me again to violate what I believe in. I’m doing it for you, but I won’t do it again. I have to stand for what I believe in. I won’t sacrifice my integrity even for you.” It was a major declaration at eighteen. Her father nodded agreement, and she left the table without saying another word. A moment later, they heard her door close firmly, as Robert let out a sigh and glanced at his wife.

  “This is all my father’s fault, and the liberal ideas he gives her about fighting for causes. She’s too young and impressionable for that. He’s going to turn her into a revolutionary if he’s not careful, and he’d probably be pleased.”

  “Thank you” was all Janet could muster, deeply grateful that they weren’t going to be publicly humiliated by Meredith refusing to come out. And she cleared the table, thinking about the dress they would buy the next day.

  Chapter Four

  On Saturday morning, Meredith and her mother took a taxi to Bergdorf Goodman and went to the bridal department, where the debutante dresses were sold. Janet was planning to make a day of it, and visit all the department stores with bridal departments before picking the dress they liked best. It felt like a dress rehearsal for a wedding to Meredith.

  She chose the second dress they showed her at Bergdorf’s. It was simple and understated, not too low cut, as was proper, with a big bell skirt and a small waist. It was white taffeta with little cap sleeves, and it looked beautiful on her. Janet would have preferred something a little more elaborate with beading or lace or embroidery, or a sash at the waist, but the one Meredith had picked was striking in its simplicity, and with her dark hair swept up she looked like Snow White in it. She was going to be a beautiful debutante whether she approved of the event or not. Not all the girls who came out were beautiful. Many were heavy, had bad skin, or were unattractive, but it was their night too and it had a Cinderella quality to it for all the girls.

  They went to the shoe department next and chose high-heeled white satin shoes, and long white kid gloves in the glove department. Her outfit was complete by one o’clock. She didn’t even need the dress fitted. It was perfect and looked like it had been made for her. Even the length was right when they went back and tried the shoes with it. Janet was enormously relieved, and they went across the street to the Plaza for lunch afterward in the Palm Court, and by three o’clock they were home. Her mother had rattled on all through lunch about the dress and the event, and spoke of little else.

  Janet had reminisced about her own experiences at Vassar too, and Meredith told her about the mixer she’d gone to at West Point. In answer to her mother’s questions about whether she’d met any cadets she liked particularly, she said she hadn’t. Janet admitted to having a beau there for a few months early in her freshman year. She had been swayed more by the uniform than the man. And then she had met Robert. Her grandparents had given a ball for her, and she had come out at the cotillion too, for good measure. Robert and his best friend had been escorts at the cotillion, and she said it had been love at first sight. They had gotten engaged six months later, and married three years after, when she graduated from Vassar. Robert had just finished law school then and joined his father’s law firm. Meredith was born three years later.

  Like most women of her generation, Janet’s course had been set early on, and never wavered. And she was still happy with Robert more than twenty years later. She had never questioned her path or her decisions. She had done what was expected of her all her life and had no regrets, and neither did Robert. She was forty-five years old, but she appeared older, as did Robert at forty-nine. She had a matronly style that suited her, and a conservative attitude. She never challenged her beliefs, or his, and even going to Germany with him for four years had seemed like the right thing for a good wife to do, and she had enjoyed it. Robert made all her decisions, which was comfortable for her, and what she expected, and so did he. She never challenged his wisdom or authority over her.

  Meredith loved her parents, but she couldn’t imagine choosing a man at eighteen and living a life based on what her parents expected of her, without questioning all of it or making decisions of her own. Her grandfather was the only renegade among them, and was frequently criticized for it and thought to be eccentric, although his own wife followed him without question too. His willingness to confront everything and swim against the currents had taken him to great places, and had served him and the country well. He was the model Meredith would have preferred to follow, but women didn’t do that or have the opportunities men did, unless they were willing to become total outcasts, which Meredith didn’t aspire to either.

  She wanted to be her own person, respect her own values, fight her own battles, and make her own decisions, and she didn’t see why that was so difficult for women and considered unacceptable. Why weren’t they allowed to have their own ideas too? Why did everything have to be decided by their husbands? Whenever something came up in her parents’ lives, her father made the decision, and Janet always seemed grateful that he did. She never wanted to take matters in her own hands or do something different. All she wanted was to be protected, to bend to him, and be the passenger not the driver.

  Meredith couldn’t imagine living that way, or following any man blindly. She wondered if she would ever meet one who would accept her independence and free thinking. She could only respect a man willing to fight for what he believed in, and who wanted her to do the same without trying to control or quash her. She wanted to be a person willing to fight the good fight, as her grandfather said, and even die for her beliefs. It didn’t seem compatible with marriage, and certainl
y not one like her parents’. But she wasn’t interested in looking for a man anytime soon. Her freedom of choice to follow her own path was far more important to her than marriage.

  * * *

  —

  On Sunday morning, her father played golf early, as he always did. Alex had spent the night at a friend’s and wasn’t home yet. And her mother was playing tennis at the club with a friend and said she’d be home by noon. They were all going to have lunch together, and then Meredith would take the train back to Poughkeepsie. She had nothing to do that morning, and was having breakfast in the kitchen. Adelaide had made her irresistible pancakes, and she asked Merrie if she ever went to church. The family went from time to time, but her father liked to play golf on Sundays. Meredith hadn’t gone to church yet at Vassar. As always, even about church, her mother did whatever her father wished. He was never a tyrant, he was simply used to being in charge of all their plans.

  “Do you, Addie?” Meredith asked with interest, as she finished the pancakes. It was still early, and she was going to read the Sunday paper before everyone got home.

  “I love going to my church, when I’m off on Sundays,” which wasn’t a regular occurrence. Adelaide beamed as she said it. “I go to a church up in Harlem with a gospel choir. It’s like listening to angels singing,” she said with a rapturous expression, and Meredith smiled.

  “I’d really like to go with you sometime. I love gospel music.”

  “I’ll take you anytime you want, when I’m off,” she offered generously, and Meredith looked at her watch as she said it. It was only nine-thirty, and the others weren’t due home till at least noon or even one o’clock. Her father was only playing nine holes of golf that day so he could have lunch with her, although he usually played eighteen.

  “Do you want to go now? What time does it start?”

  “Ten-thirty. I’m not dressed for it,” but she had a coat to put over her uniform, and because it was Sunday, she’d worn a hat.