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, instead 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.