Coming Out (16 page)

Five minutes later, Chauncey and Felicia arrived. Olympia noticed that Chauncey was beginning to show the vast quantity of booze he had on board. And much to Olympia's annoyance, he stared at Margaret and her husband in disbelief as though he had never seen African Americans before. Or surely not here. He said not a word, looked at Olympia unhappily, and sat down. She had done the unthinkable. She had not only brought a Jewish woman with her to the ball, she had invited an African American couple. Chauncey looked as though he were going to burst an artery. And to add insult to injury, his daughter had a tattoo. Seeing the look on his face, Olympia started to laugh. Margaret's eyes met hers, and registered what she was laughing about, and she started laughing, too. Frieda was smiling blissfully, oblivious to what was going on. She loved watching the people, and seeing the jewels and evening gowns, and the pretty young girls. Frieda thought the ballroom was like something in a fairy tale. The look on her face was worth the entire night to her daughter-in-law. Whatever Chauncey thought of it, she knew she had done the right thing. Frieda deserved to be there as much as anyone else in the room. The days of Chauncey's world, its values and segregated, secluded life were over. In the end, what Olympia had done was far more powerful than Harry's statement by refusing to come. He had done exactly what people like Chauncey wanted, and stayed home. Olympia had brought the real world right into the ball with her, a Holocaust survivor and a brilliant young black lawyer who had grown up in Harlem. What better way to prove the point to them? She could think of none.

As she thought about it, she was startled to see Charlie walk toward her across the ballroom, and wondered if something was wrong. Everyone was at their table by then, and the girls had gone backstage to get ready for the presentation. Noses were being powdered, hair was being smoothed down and combed, lipstick was being put on. The band had begun to play, and the debutantes' parents and friends were dancing. They had another twenty minutes to enjoy themselves before the show began. Charlie strode purposefully across the floor, and much to his mother's surprise, he asked her to dance. She smiled at him, touched by the gesture. She knew he had done it because Harry wasn't there. And he knew how hard it was for her to spend an evening with his father. He had been boorish to her about the tattoo and rude to her guests. And for some odd reason, Chauncey and Felicia had invited none of their own. Charlie led his mother out on the dance floor, among the other parents, and began a graceful fox trot with her.

“Have I told you lately how proud I am of you?” She looked up at her firstborn with a happy smile, while Frieda watched them with pleasure. Olympia was a beautiful woman, and her son was a handsome, kind-hearted boy. He'd been eight when Olympia and Harry got married, and Frieda had watched him grow from child to man. Like his mother, she was proud of him, too. He was a good boy.

“I love you, Mom,” Charlie said quietly, and she saw the same shadow in his eyes again, as though there were a question there. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't figure out the question, or the answer.

“I love you, too, Charlie. More than you know. The girls look pretty tonight, don't they?” He nodded, and she continued chatting as they danced. It had been years since she danced with him. It startled her to realize how much he looked like his father at the same age, but he was a much better person. “There are a lot of pretty girls here tonight. Maybe you'll find the girl of your dreams,” she teased him. In truth, she would have been unhappy if he had. She wanted him to find a girl from a more interesting world than this one. These people were all right for one night, but in some ways they were an oddity, a relic from the past, like Charlie's father. She wanted him to find someone with broader horizons than these, a woman whose values weren't as narrow. And as she thought about it, Charlie looked down at her with a quiet smile.

“I know this is a crazy place to do it, Mom. And I know it's probably the wrong time. But I've wanted to tell you something for a while.”

“If you tell me you have a skull and crossbones tattooed on your chest, I'm going to hit you.” He laughed and shook his head, and his eyes grew serious again.

“No, Mom. I'm gay.” He didn't miss a step as he danced with her, and she looked at him with eyes filled with more love and pride than he had ever dared to hope he would see there once he told her. She hadn't let him down. And for her, the question she'd seen in his eyes for so long had finally been answered. She didn't say anything for a long time, and then she leaned closer to him and kissed him.

“I love you, Charlie. Thank you for telling me.” His confidence in her was the greatest gift he could have given her, just as her peaceful acceptance of what he had told her was the greatest gift she could have given him. “I guess when I think about it, I'm not all that surprised. I am, but I'm not. Was that what happened with the boy who killed himself last year? Were you in love with him?” Maybe in her heart of hearts she had wondered about it all along. She was no longer sure. Maybe her heart had told her Charlie was different long before her head understood.

“No.” He shook his head. “We were just friends. He went home for the weekend and told his parents he was gay, too, and his father said he never wanted to see him again. He killed himself when he got back.”

“How terrible of his father to do something like that.” She caught a glimpse of Chauncey over his shoulder as they danced. It was not going to be easy for Charlie to share this news with him. They both knew that. Chauncey had a million prejudices on a multitude of subjects.

“I think I was afraid that something like that could happen to me. Not killing myself. But I was afraid of what you'd say if I told you and Dad. I think I knew you'd be okay, but you never know. And I can't see Dad taking it well.”

“He probably won't. He has some growing up to do. Maybe I can help. But I don't think you should try telling him tonight,” she said cautiously, and Charlie laughed. Chauncey was obviously drunk, as always.

“I wasn't planning to tell him tonight. I've wanted to tell you and Harry for months. Do you think he'll be okay?” Charlie asked with a look of concern. What Harry thought mattered a lot to him. He had deep respect for the man, even though he wasn't there that night. Not being there was just something Harry thought he had to do. They had all forgiven him by then, even his wife.

“I think Harry will be fine. In fact, I'm sure of it. Tell him whenever you want.”

“I will. Thanks, Mom,” he said then, looking down at her. He looked happier than she'd seen him in months. And as she looked at him, the dance came to an end. “You're the best mom anyone could ever have. Now can I tell you about the tattoo on my back?” He laughed at her, looking like a kid again. But that night they both knew he had become a man. He had taken the terrifying step from childhood into adulthood. Tonight had been a rite of passage for him, too, a terrifying one. And thanks to her, he had landed on both feet, and the ground under him was solid, whatever his sexual preferences were. She loved him no matter what. That was clear. He had her unconditional love and respect.

“Don't you dare tell me you have a tattoo, Charlie Walker. I might have to strangle you for that!”

“Don't worry, Mom, I don't.” He had to go backstage to the others then, but he had known that before he did, he had to tell her. He didn't know why, but he knew that he had to tell her tonight. He wanted to. In a different way than his sisters, he had come out, too.

She turned to look at him again before he led her back to her table, and she told him just what he wanted to hear and needed from her. “I'm proud of you.” He kissed her cheek and led her back to her table. There, standing quietly next to her seat, was Harry in white tie and tails, watching her. He looked as though he had always planned to be there with her. Frieda was beaming up at him with pride. It had not just been a night for the girls, it was a good night for sons, too.

“What are you doing here?” she asked softly, smiling at him, as Charlie left them. She was touched beyond words that he was there. His coming, despite his principles and objections, was a gift she would forever cherish, as she would the trust of her son. It had been a memorable night so far.

“I decided to take your suggestion, and my mother's, and get over myself. I thought tonight might be a good time to do it.” Everyone seemed to be having epiphanies that night, and she had had hers, too. She realized that she loved him, whether he came to the ball or not. She had given up hoping ever since he told her how strongly he felt about it.

“Do we have time for a dance?” he asked her gently, and she nodded. It was the last dance before the presentation. He had orchestrated his arrival perfectly.

“I love you, Harry,” she said happily, waltzing slowly in his arms.

“I love you, too. I'm sorry I was such a pain in the ass over this. I guess I had to work it out for myself.” And then he laughed. “My mother told me tonight when she left that she was ashamed of me. She said I was the most prejudiced person she knew. Max even said it was stupid of me not to come. I know it was. The only one I care about here is you, and the kids of course. But I wanted to be here with you. I'm sorry I let you come here alone. How was dinner, by the way?”

“Interesting. Chauncey had a tantrum over Veronica's tattoo. I don't blame him, but as usual, he went a little overboard.”

“Did she tell him to get fucked?” he asked with amusement. He had obviously missed the fireworks over dinner, but had turned up for the best part, the part that really mattered to her. The presentation of her girls to society, whatever that was.

“Remarkably, she didn't,” she said in answer to his question about what Veronica had said to her father. “She told him to grow up. That's not a bad idea. Getting sober wouldn't be a bad idea, either. He still drinks too much.” She had a lot of things to tell him when they went home that night, mostly Charlie's admission to her. It was foremost in her mind. But she didn't want to tell him here. She was still a little startled by what her son had told her, but touched that he had taken her into his confidence at last. He had looked like a thousand-pound weight had been lifted off his shoulders from the moment he told her. She still had to digest it herself. But in the end, whatever he was or wanted or needed, or made him happy, was fine with her. And she knew it would be with Harry, too. Chauncey was another story. She suspected he was going to take longer to adjust. And then she laughed as she continued to fill Harry in on what he'd missed. “I thought Chauncey was going to have a heart attack when the Washingtons walked in.” Harry laughed in response.

“You certainly know how to make a statement a lot better than I do. Whatever their rules are, you've probably broken all of them with who you have at your table, along with the biggest WASP in Newport. That's one way to mix it up, and drag these people into the real world. How's my mother doing?”

“I think she's having fun.” She smiled up at her husband then, with a look of obvious pleasure. “Thank you for coming, Harry. I'm so glad you're here.” He could see how much it meant to her and was pleased. He had done the right thing in the end and he knew it.

“So am I. When does the show begin?” A drumroll at the end of their waltz answered his question, as the bandleader asked everyone to take their seats.

Harry followed his wife off the floor, and sat down next to her and his mother in her wheelchair, and a moment later, the room went dark, a curtain rose, and a spotlight shone on an arch of flowers. A line of cadets from West Point appeared, raised their sabers, and crossed them. The debutantes were going to pass underneath, just as they had when Olympia made her debut twenty-seven years before. Frieda's eyes were wide as she watched the performance, and a moment later, the first girl came out. They appeared alphabetically, and Olympia knew that with the last name of Walker, the twins were going to come out last. They had forty-eight other girls to watch before Virginia and Veronica made their bows.

The girls came out slowly, some looking nervous, others looking confident, some smiling broadly, others not at all. The wreaths of flowers on their heads made them look almost angelic, and some of the gowns were really lovely, others were slightly over the top. There were fat girls and thin ones, exquisite ones and plain ones, but as each of them came out, holding her bouquet, her gloved hand tucked into her escort's arm, each looked as though it was the most glorious moment of her life. The announcer called their names, and those of their escorts. They stood still, as everyone applauded, siblings whistled and shouted, and with measured grace, they curtsied, walked slowly down the stairs and under the cadets' sabers, and crossed the ballroom to wait for the others. There was something slightly silly about it, and wonderfully old-fashioned. It was easy to imagine girls doing it for the past several hundred years, right into modern times. Unlike their ancestors, these girls were no longer looking for husbands. They were stepping out into the world among family and friends for one magical moment they would remember forever. It was a world waiting to receive them and celebrate them, one that would be easy for some and harder for others. But tonight, in this one shining moment, everything that was happening was to assure them that everyone in the room loved them, was proud of them, and wished them well. There was an overwhelming feeling of joy and tender approbation in the room, as everyone applauded for each girl. And then at last, Olympia and those at her table applauded as first Veronica and then Virginia came out. Veronica looked anything but reluctant. She looked confident and proud, smiled a sexy smile, held her stole around her, and came down the stairs with measured steps, passed under the swords, and crossed the room to the others. Then Charlie appeared with Virginia. He looked incredibly dashing as he tucked his sister's gloved hand into his arm. He squeezed her arm gently, as she smiled shyly, dropped into a graceful curtsy, and walked slowly down the stairs and past the cadets. They paraded one more time around the dance floor, stood in a breathtaking line of young beauties, curtsied one last time, and then the fathers were invited to come to the dance floor. Chauncey got up more steadily than Olympia expected, and walked proudly onto the dance floor to claim Virginia. Olympia then whispered something to Harry. He hesitated, and she nodded, and then he went out to claim Veronica.