Coming Out (3 page)

Twenty-seven years earlier, Olympia had made her debut there herself, as had her mother and both grandmothers long before her, and her great-grandmothers once upon a time. It was a tradition she was going to enjoy sharing with her girls, no matter how much the world and society at large, or her own life, had changed in the meantime. Nowadays, women worked, people got married later than ever, and it was perfectly acceptable not to marry at all. And who one married had nothing to do with blue blood or society, as far as Olympia was concerned. All she wanted was for her daughters to marry good, solid, reliable, intelligent men who treated them well. Preferably, a man like Harry, and not their father. Now, more than anything, coming out was just an excuse to look lovely, and wear long white gloves and a beautiful white evening gown, often the first one the girls presented had ever worn. It was going to be fun helping Veronica and Virginia pick their dresses, particularly as she knew the choices the girls would make would be so different, as they always were. Having twins come out at The Arches was going to be double the fun for her. She sat staring dreamily at the invitation, with a gentle smile of memory and nostalgia on her face, as Max watched. He didn't often see his mom look like that. She felt almost like a young girl again, as memories of her own coming out flooded back to her, and Max observed her with interest. He could see that she was thinking of something that made her happy.

“What's that, Mom?” Max asked, wiping the grape juice off his chin with the back of his hand, and then brushing his hand against his jeans instead of his napkin.

“It's an invitation for your sisters,” she said, slipping it back into the envelope, as she reminded herself to ask the committee for a duplicate invitation, so she could start an album for each girl, just like the one she had of her own debut, tucked away in the bookcase upstairs. One day it would be fun for them to have, to share with their own daughters. The twins had often looked at hers, when they were very little girls. Virginia had always said, at about Max's age, that their mom had looked like a fairy princess.

“Is that an invitation to a birthday party?” Max gazed at her, intrigued.

“To a coming-out ball,” she explained. “It's a big party where you wear a beautiful white dress.” She made it sound magical, like being Cinderella for one night at the ball, which in effect was what it was.

“What do you come out of?” Max asked, looking puzzled, as his mother smiled.

“That's a good question. You don't really come out of anything. Girls used to come out of their homes to find a husband. Now they just go to a party and have a good time.”

“Are Ginny and Ver going to get married?” Max looked worried. He knew they were leaving for college, but getting married sounded like a much bigger deal to him.

“No, sweetheart. They're just going to get dressed up and go to the party. Daddy and I will go and watch. Daddy will dance with them, and so will their dad. Grandma Frieda will come, too, and then we'll all come home.”

“That sounds boring,” he said matter-of-factly. As far as Max was concerned, birthday parties were more fun. “Do I have to go?”

“Nope. Just the grown-ups.” In fact, upholding the traditions of the event, no one younger than the correct age to be presented could come. Younger siblings were never allowed to attend. She suspected that one of them would want Charlie as an escort, and had no idea who the other twin would ask. Probably one of their friends. That was up to them. Her guess was that Veronica would corral Charlie, and Ginny would ask a friend. They had four weeks to respond, but there was no need to wait. She would send the check in the following week. The fee to participate was very small, and was donated to a designated charity, which benefited from the event. It was impossible to pay one's way in. It was not about money, it was about being asked, either as a legacy, as in the case of her girls, or as a result of one's blue-blooded ancestry and connections, which was also the case for her girls, although Olympia never traded on how social her family had been. It was just a fact of life for them, and something that was there, part of the furniture of their history and life. She never even thought about it. She was much prouder of her own family and accomplishments than of her family's “blue blood.”

Max went upstairs to play in his room then. Harry called and said he'd be home late. He had a conference with two other judges after court that afternoon, and she never had a chance to tell him about the invitation. It was fun, but not that big a deal. She was going to tell him about it that night, when she told the girls. After that, she had to rush to take Max to soccer. They stopped to buy groceries afterward, and both girls were home by the time she and Max got back. Both girls were in a hurry to go out, each with a different set of friends. Harry came home even later than expected, and just as Olympia was cooking dinner, and the girls flew past on their way out, Max said he felt sick and suddenly threw up.

It was nine-thirty by the time she had settled him into bed, and he fell asleep after throwing up two more times. Harry said he was exhausted, and Olympia put their dinner in the fridge, and curled up on the couch next to him in the den. She had changed her own clothes twice, washed her hair, and looked exhausted, as Harry frowned over a mountain of papers he had brought home from the office for the weekend. He looked up at her with a warm smile, happy to see her, and to have a peaceful moment with her after a chaotic night.

“Welcome to real life.” She smiled ruefully at him. “Sorry about dinner.”

“I wasn't hungry anyway. Do you want me to fix you something?” he generously offered. He liked to cook, and was a far more creative chef than she. His specialties were omelets and Thai food, and he was always willing to cook for the family in a pinch, particularly if she was held up at the office during the week, which was rare for her, or in a crisis with the kids, like tonight with Max sick. They had a babysitter who came in for Max on the days she was working, and she and Harry always made an effort to come straight home from the office on those days. But she shook her head. She wasn't hungry either. “Is Max okay?”

“I think so. He ran around like crazy today at soccer, and took a couple of hits in the stomach. Either that or he's got a bug. I hope the others don't get sick.” They were used to it, with four kids in the house, or even three now, flu bugs spread like wildfire, even to them. They had dealt with it for years. It had been a shock to Harry at first, but he had long since gotten used to it.

As it turned out, Max was still sick the next morning, and had a mild fever, which suggested to her that it was the flu, more likely than his exertions at soccer. Olympia went out to rent videos for him, while Harry kept him company, and Max slept for most of the afternoon. The girls were out for most of the weekend, and Ginny stayed over at a friend's. They were in the home stretch, the last few weeks of senior year, and there was lots of fun at hand.

It was Sunday night before everyone was home again. Max felt fine, and everyone was gathered around the kitchen table, while Harry and Veronica played cards with Max, Ginny read a magazine, and Olympia made dinner. She loved their family gatherings, and having them all underfoot while she cooked. It was why they had built a big cozy kitchen. For the first time in two days, she remembered the invitation that had arrived on Friday. She was just taking two chickens out of the oven, as she glanced toward the table, and mentioned it to all of them.

“Girls, you were invited to come out at The Arches,” she said casually, pulling a pan of baked potatoes out of the oven and setting them down on the kitchen counter, as Veronica looked up. She knew what The Arches was, and had already heard several girls at school mention it that week. All the invitations had been mailed, and all those who had been invited to come out knew it by then.

“How stupid,” Veronica said with a look of disgust, as she dealt Max and Harry a fresh hand of cards. They were playing Go Fish, and so far Max had been winning, much to his delight. He loved beating his parents and older siblings at games.

“What did you just say, Mom?” Ginny asked, looking up with interest. They were both striking-looking blue-eyed blondes. Ginny wore her long hair straight, cascading over her shoulders, and was wearing a hint of makeup. Veronica wore hers in a braid, her face was scrubbed, and she had no need to wear makeup while playing cards with her stepfather and brother, or in fact most of the time. Their looks were identical, their styles noticeably different. It always helped identify them, which Harry had found useful over the years. If they had dressed identically and worn their hair the same way, he'd have been in trouble. In fact, without clothes, hairdos, or makeup to give one clues, their mother was the only one who could always tell them apart. Even Max got confused at times, and they teased him about it.

“I said, you were both invited to come out at The Arches in December. The invitation came this week.” Olympia looked pleased for both of them, as she put butter in the baked potatoes, and carved the chicken. She had already made the salad.

“You don't expect us to do that, do you?” Veronica looked up in disapproval, as Olympia nodded, and Virginia smiled from ear to ear.

“How cool, Mom! I was afraid they wouldn't ask us. Everyone at school who's doing it got their invitations earlier this week.” Their father had commented acidly years before that their mother's conversion to Judaism might get them blackballed.

“Yours came on Friday. I forgot to tell you after Max got sick,” Olympia told her.

“When can we go shopping?” Ginny asked predictably, as their mother turned to them with a grin, and Veronica interrupted.

“Shopping? Are you crazy?” Veronica jumped up and stared at her sister with a look of outrage. “Are you telling me you're going to take part in that elitist discriminatory farce? For God's sake, Ginny, get your head out of your movie magazines for five minutes. They're not asking you to be queen for a day, or giving you an award here, they're asking you to discriminate against everyone who isn't a WASP and make a total ass of yourself, in a totally worthless, archaic, sexist tradition.” She was on her feet and her eyes were blazing, as her sister and her mother stared at her in amazement. Olympia had expected her to grumble a little, but not to go completely insane.

“Let's not be too extreme. Nobody asked you to join a fascist movement, Veronica. It's only a coming-out party.”

“What's the difference? Are there African Americans at The Arches? How about Jews? What about Hispanics or Asians? How can you be such a hypocrite, Mom? You're Jewish. You're married to Harry. If you make us do this, it's like a slap in his face.” Veronica was beside herself with righteous indignation, as Virginia looked like she was about to cry.

“No one is slapping Harry's face. This is a perfectly innocuous debutante cotillion, where the two of you wear pretty white dresses, make your bow, and have a good time. And I have no idea who will be coming out with you, or what race they are. I haven't been to a deb ball in years.”

“That's bullshit, Mom. You know this is a strictly WASP event, and all it's meant to do is shut people out. Nobody with a conscience should participate, and I'm not going to. I don't care what you say, or what Ginny does, I'm not going.” Veronica was fighting mad as Virginia burst into tears.

“Calm down,” Olympia said quietly and firmly, slightly unnerved by Veronica's extreme reaction, as Harry watched them all with a puzzled look on his face.

“May I ask what we're all talking about? From what I can gather, the girls have been invited to a meeting sponsored by the Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan, and Veronica wishes to decline.”

“Exactly,” Veronica said, pacing around the room and fuming, as Ginny looked at her mother in horror.

“Do you mean we can't do it?” Ginny asked with a look of panic. “Mom, don't let her spoil it
… everyone
is doing it. Two of the girls already got dresses at Saks this weekend!” Ginny was obviously terrified of getting a late start.

“Relax, both of you,” Olympia said, setting dinner down on the table, handing Virginia a tissue and trying to exude a sense of calm she didn't feel. She hadn't expected either girl's reaction to be quite so extreme. “We'll talk about it. This isn't a meeting of the Ku Klux Klan, for God's sake, Veronica. It's a coming-out party. I did it, your grandmothers did it, your great-grandmothers did it. And you'll have fun doing it with your sister.”

“I would rather
die
!” Veronica shouted at her.

“Mom, I
want
to do it!” Ginny said, and cried harder, jumping up from the table, too.

“You would!”
Veronica shouted at her sister, with tears bulging in her eyes, too. “It's the dumbest idea I've ever heard. It's insulting. It makes us look like snobby racist morons! I'd rather be in a peace march, or digging ditches in Appalachia or Nicaragua, or anywhere, than in a stupid white dress, showing off to a lot of dumb, snobby people who have totally sick political ideas! Mom,” she said, turning to her mother with a steely look in her eyes, “I
won't
do it! I don't care what you do to me. I
won't
. “ And then she turned toward her sister with a look of utterly outraged disgust. “And if you want to, frankly, I think you're
sick!” With that, she stormed out of the kitchen, and a few seconds later, they heard her slam the door to her room, as Ginny stood in the middle of the room and sobbed
.

“She always does that! You can't let her do this, Mom! She ruins
everything
!”

“She hasn't ruined everything. You're both overreacting. Why don't we let everyone cool off for a day or two, and talk about it again. She'll calm down. Just leave her alone.”

“She
won't
calm down,” Ginny said with a look of anguish. “She's a
Communist
and I hate her!” And with that, Ginny ran out of the room in tears. A moment later they heard the door of her room slam, too, as Harry looked across the table at his wife in amazement and total consternation.