“How did Charlie seem to you?” she asked, looking worried.
“Fine. Why? He seems to be having a great time playing hockey. And I think he's more relaxed about his future plans. He seemed uptight to me over Thanksgiving, but tonight I thought he was more laid-back.”
“I can't put my finger on it. But I think something is still bothering him,” she said with the finely tuned instincts of a mother.
“Did he say something to give you that impression?”
“No. He says he's fine. Maybe it's just my imagination, but I'm convinced something's on his mind.”
“Stop looking for things to worry about,” Harry chided her. “If he's upset, he'll tell you. Charlie's always good about that.” Although he was private with others, he was exceptionally close to her.
“Maybe you're right,” Olympia said, sounding unconvinced, and she mentioned it to Frieda the following day when she got home from work.
“It's funny you said that,” Frieda said, looking pensive. “I can't tell you why, but I had the same impression when he sat here having tea with me yesterday. I can't tell if he's worried or sad. He seems preoccupied. Maybe he's worried about finding a job when he graduates,” she said sensibly. He was a very responsible young man.
“He's seemed that way to me since that friend of his committed suicide last spring. I keep thinking it's that. I know he had counseling for it at school. Maybe it's something else. Or maybe it's nothing. Harry thinks I'm crazy,” she said, sharing a cup of tea with her mother-in-law, which was the only peaceful moment she'd had all day. Frieda always told her she did too much. It was the fate of all working mothers, particularly those who made their living in the law, had a five-year-old at home, a husband, and three kids in college. It was a constant juggling act on the high wire, usually without a net, from morning till night.
“Men never see things like that,” Frieda said, still thinking about Charlie. “It's probably nothing. He's probably just worried about what he'll do after graduation. It's a tough time for most kids. Like it or not, they have to leave the nest and grow up. He'll feel better once he makes his mind up about whether to take the job in California, find a job here, go to divinity school, or go to Oxford. They're all good choices to have, but until he makes a decision, he'll probably be a nervous wreck.” They both agreed that he seemed troubled.
“I think you're right. I remember how scared I was when I left college. I had no family to fall back on. I was terrified, and then I married Chauncey, and I thought I was home free after that. As it turned out, not as home free as I thought.”
“You were too young to get married,” Frieda said with a frown, although she had been younger than that herself when she married Harry's father. But things were different then, they had been through the war, survived the horror of the camps, and had led a different life. During the war, people grew up fast, particularly as she had. Her youth had ended in the concentration camp at Dachau.
“At least I got three great kids out of it,” Olympia said philosophically, and Frieda smiled in response.
“Yes, you did. Charlie's a wonderful boy, and the girls are terrific, too.” And then she looked at her daughter-in-law with a determined expression. “I'm still going to the ball, you know. I don't care what you say, I wouldn't miss it for the world.” Olympia was sorry Harry didn't feel the same way. “Harry said I should stay home with him. I'm still angry at him for not going, but that's his business if he wants to make a fool of himself with his stubborn ideas. I'm going. That's what I told him.” There was a look of determination in her eyes.
Olympia looked at her and smiled. “I was going to try and talk you out of it. But I guess I don't have a chance of that.”
“No, you don't,” Frieda said, looking like an elderly lioness, as she sat on the couch with her leg in a cast, all propped up.
“Why don't I try and rent you a wheelchair?” Olympia said thoughtfully. “Charlie could pick it up tomorrow. That way you won't have to walk.”
“It's embarrassing to go that way,” the older woman admitted. “I hate to look like an invalid. But it makes sense. If you can get one, I'll go. And if you can't, I'll hobble in on crutches.”
“You're a good sport,” Olympia said with admiration. “And a wonderful grandmother.” Frieda loved Olympia's older children just as much as she did Max, and made no difference between them.
“I'm going, if I have to go by ambulance and be carried in on a stretcher by paramedics. Besides, I want to wear my new dress. I've never been to a coming-out party, I'll probably never get another chance, and I'm not going to miss it.” There were tears in her eyes as she said it. This was more than just a party for her. It was about being socially accepted in a way she never had been before. She had spent years of poverty, working in a sweatshop as a seamstress, beside her husband, to put their son through school. Just once before she died, she wanted to feel like Cinderella too, even if her son thought she was foolish. And she wanted to see her granddaughters make their debut. Olympia understood that, and vowed to make it happen for her. It was a dream come true for more than just the girls. It meant a lot to Frieda, too. More than Harry knew.
“We'll make it work, Frieda. I promise.” The only thing Olympia couldn't figure out was who was going to push the wheelchair. She had to be at the hotel at five on Saturday to help the girls dress, and Charlie had to be there with them for rehearsal. There was no one to wheel her into the hotel, except Harry, who refused to go. She was thinking of asking Margaret and her husband to pick her up, if Olympia rented them all a limo. It was the only way to do it.
Olympia asked Harry about the ball cautiously again that night after dinner, and reminded him that with his mother disabled, the logistics of getting her there were going to be a lot harder than they would have been otherwise. She needed someone to help her, and was hoping he'd volunteer so she didn't have to ask him directly.
“I already told her she shouldn't go,” he said, looking annoyed.
“She wants to,” Olympia said calmly, without going into the many reasons she thought it was important to Frieda.
“She's just being stubborn,” he said bluntly.
“So are you.” There was an edge to her voice that hadn't been there before. He was absolutely refusing to help her, and it was beginning to seriously irk her. The least he could do was help his mother get there, since she wanted to so badly. “This means a lot to your mother. Maybe more than just the obvious.” In Chauncey's case, it was about rank snobbism. But Frieda had worked hard all her life, sacrificed much, survived persecution, and come through a long, difficult history to get here. If she wanted to go to a debutante cotillion, for whatever reason, Olympia thought she had a right to; and she was going to do everything she could to support it. Besides, the twins adored their grandmother and wanted her there. She deserved this one special night as much as the girls. It was her night, too. Olympia understood that. Harry didn't. He refused to. His own political point of view was more important to him than the dreams of a young girl, or an old woman. “I think this is really important to her,” Olympia said gently.
“It shouldn't be,” he said firmly. “And even if it is, I am a judge of the court of appeals. I can't endorse a discriminatory event just to please my mother, or my wife, or your daughters. I'm tired of being made to feel like an asshole about it, Ollie. I firmly believe in what I'm doing. I can't be there.”
“I'm sure you wouldn't be the first Jew who has been a guest at The Arches. For all I know, there are even Jewish girls who've come out there.”
“I doubt it. And even if that's true, I still have to take a position on this and stick to it. I don't think Martin Luther King ever went to a ball hosted by the Ku Klux Klan.”
“Do you and Veronica have to boycott everything you don't believe in? I can't even buy groceries when she's home, without worrying about who I'm offending or persecuting. If I buy grapes, it's an affront to Cesar Chavez. If I buy South African goods, I'm disrespecting Nelson Mande
la. Hell, half the time if I put on a sweater or a pair of shoes, or eat a piece of fruit in my own kitchen, I'm pissing someone off. It sure makes life complicated, and in this case, I think our family is more important than your goddamn political views. All your mother wants now is to go to a party to watch her stepgranddaughters make their debut, which I'll admit is an archaic tradition, but that's all it is. It's a party, one night in a girl's life that makes her feel special, like a bat mitzvah. You can't suck it up for one night?” She was obviously slowly getting angry about his position, but Harry only looked at her and shook his head. He had heard her and knew it was important to her, and his mother. But he disagreed with them, and wouldn't budge an inch.
“No, I can't.”
“Fine.” She spat the word at him with her eyes blazing. “Then to hell with you, if your principles and political views mean more to you than we do. I think this time you're really missing the point.”
“I know you feel that way,” he said quietly, looking profoundly unhappy. “Principles aren't like a hat you take on and off when it suits you. They're a crown of thorns that you have an obligation to wear no matter what.”
Olympia didn't say another word, and left the room before she got really angry at him, and said something she'd regret. She knew there was going to be no compromise on this one. Harry was truly adamant, and she had lost the war. Like it or not, and fair or not, she was going to be the one who had to suck it up.
Chapter 7
Once the girls came home from college, every thing in the house was chaos. Their friends came and went, the phone rang constantly. Other girls who were making their debut at The Arches showed up to talk to Ginny, giggle, squeal, and take a peek at her dress. All the girls approved when they saw it. They all agreed it was gorgeous. Veronica holed up in her own room with her friends, none of whom were planning to come out.
Frieda left the door to the den open, and enjoyed watching the arrivals and departures. Olympia was bringing in kosher food for her, and Charlie helped her pick it up, and serve it to Frieda on separate dishes on trays. She had been extremely reasonable about not being quite as rigid about it as normal. She knew how complicated it was for Olympia to worry about that, too. And she was sure God would forgive her as long as she didn't eat cream sauces on her meat, or eat lobster or shrimp. Olympia was fastidious and mindful of what she served. And as predicted, Charlie was a godsend for her. He helped her with whatever he could.
On Thursday night, they celebrated Chanukah. Olympia lit the candles, as Frieda said the prayers with her. They exchanged gifts, as they would every night for eight days. Olympia was happy to have Frieda staying at the house with them. It made the whole family seem closer. And the religious holiday provided a sane distraction from the ball, at least for one night.
Ginny was excited that Steve was coming to town on Friday night, and Veronica continued to promise her mother that Jeff was totally suitable and wouldn't spike his hair. He wasn't due to arrive until Saturday morning, which seemed tight to Olympia, but he had something to do in Providence on Friday night, and Veronica said it was the best he could do. There was no point arguing with her. With the coming-out ball only days away, she was in a rotten mood.
It occurred to Olympia late Thursday night that although Veronica swore she had them, she had never seen her white satin evening shoes. She decided to check in her closet to make sure that they were in fact there. If not, she'd have to buy her a pair. Or Veronica was likely to do something crazy, like wear sneakers or red shoes. She let herself into the room as Veronica came out of the shower towel-drying her hair with her back to her mother. Olympia stopped in her tracks and stared at her in horror. Right in the center of her back was a giant tattoo. It was a huge multicolored butterfly with a wingspread the size of a dinner plate. Without even realizing it, Olympia screamed, and Veronica jumped about a foot, and wheeled around. She hadn't heard her mother come in.
“Oh my God! What is that? “ She knew perfectly well what it was. She just couldn't believe that Veronica had done that to herself. It was huge. Olympia burst into tears.
“Come on, Mom… please… I'm sorry…I was going to tell you about it… I've always wanted to do it…I love it… you'll get used to it….” Veronica looked panicked. The one thing her mother had always forbidden them was piercings or tattoos. She had let them pierce their ears, but anywhere else was taboo. And tattoos were beyond the pale.
“I can't believe you did that!” Olympia said, sitting on the edge of Veronica's bed. She was feeling faint. Her baby's body had been desecrated. She couldn't even imagine Veronica living with that for the rest of her life. It was obscene. She wanted her to have it removed, but she knew that if she suggested it, her daughter would refuse. “You look like you just got out of prison.”
“Everyone has them at school. I'm eighteen, Mom. I have a right to do what I want with my own body.”
“Do you have any idea what that looks like, or what it will look like when you're fifty? Are you nuts?” And then she looked utterly panicked. “Did Ginny get one, too?” Veronica looked embarrassed as she sat down on the bed next to her mother and put her arms around her.
“I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to upset you. I've wanted one for years.” Olympia knew that was true, but she thought she had convinced her otherwise. It never occurred to her that Veronica would defy her and get a tattoo the minute she went away to school.
“Why couldn't you get one on your bottom, where no one would see it? Do you have any idea how that looks?”
“Mom, I love it… honestly… it's me…”
And then Olympia had another thought. Veronica's debut dress was backless and plunged nearly to her waist. “We have to get you a new dress.”
“No, we don't,” Veronica said calmly. “I like the one I have.” It was the first time she had admitted that, but there was no way Olympia would let her wear that dress now and show off her tattoo. She'd die first.
“I'm not letting you come out at The Arches with that thing on your back.” Ginny walked into the room as she said it, looking for a can of hairspray, saw her mother's devastated expression, and then looked at her twin.
Veronica spoke first. “Mom knows.” Ginny looked uncomfortable to be caught between the two, and started to leave the room.
“You stay right here. If either of you ever gets another one, I'm killing you both. And that goes for Charlie, too.”
“He'd never do it,” Veronica reassured her. “He's too afraid to piss you off. So is Ginny.”
“What makes you so brave?” Olympia asked miserably, blowing her nose in a tissue. She felt as though someone had died, although she knew it was only a tattoo.
“I figured you'd forgive me,” Veronica said with a sheepish smile, and hugged her again, as her mother wiped her eyes.
“Don't be so sure. And we have to do something about the dress. I came in here to look for your shoes.” They had shared such a wonderful Chanukah only hours before, and now there was this, to spoil it all for her.
“I can't find my shoes,” Veronica admitted blithely. “I think I gave them away.”
“Great.” It was nothing now compared to what she had done to her body. “I'll get you a pair tomorrow.” She was taking the day off, as she always did on Friday. She had a million things to do. She still had to get a wheelchair for Frieda from a medical supply store. She had to pick Frieda's dress up at her apartment, and now get Veronica a pair of shoes. But all she could think of as she sat there was the butterfly tattoo. “How am I supposed to find you a dress in one day?”
“I'll wear a sweater over it,” Veronica volunteered as Olympia started to cry again. This was too much for her already frayed nerves. Frieda's accident, Max's chicken pox, Harry's stubbornness, the cold she had had all week, and now the horror of the tattoo.
“You can't wear a sweater over an evening dress. Maybe I can find you a white satin stole somewhere. If I can't, we're screwed.”
“Come on, Mom, no one's going to get u
pset about it.”
“The hell they're not, and I already am. You can at least indulge me, for chrissake,” Olympia said, heartbroken and furious all at the same time.
“I am,” Veronica reminded her. “I'm coming out, aren't I? You know I didn't want to. So give me a break.”
“I am. I just didn't know you'd break my heart in exchange. Was this your revenge for making you come out? The iron butterfly?”
“No, Mom,” Veronica said, looking unhappy. “I got it the first week of school, as a symbol of my independence and flying free. My metamorphosis into being an adult.”
“Wonderful. I guess I'm lucky you didn't put a caterpillar on there too, to show the before and after.” She stood up then and looked at both her daughters, and without another word, she left the room. She passed Harry on the stairs and didn't say a word to him. She went downstairs to the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea. He could see how upset she was, and thought it was still about him. It was after midnight, and Olympia was obviously severely overwrought.
Frieda saw her walk past her open door with her head down, and a few minutes later hobbled into the kitchen on her crutches. Olympia was sitting at the kitchen table, crying over her cup of tea. She was thinking about the backless dress and what they were going to do. More than that, she was thinking about Veronica's perfect young body, and how she had defaced it. It would never be the same.
“Uh-oh,” Frieda said, looking at her. She'd had a feeling something was wrong, which was why she had come in. It wasn't like Olympia not to stick her head in the door to see how she was. “What's wrong?” she asked, as she gingerly let herself down into a kitchen chair across the table from her daughter-in-law. “Nothing serious, I hope,” Frieda said, looking worried. She hoped Harry wasn't being difficult again. She knew he had added to Olympia's stresses all week by refusing to attend the ball with her. She had never before seen her daughter-in-law in tears, and it upset her severely. The evening had seemed perfect until then, and now the mood was shattered.
Coming Out Page 10