“I'll go right down and pick your mother up,” Olympia said, sounding out of breath.
“How's it going?” he asked, seeming concerned. Olympia was obviously a nervous wreck, he could hear it in her voice.
“I don't know. I think I'm more nervous than the girls. They both look gorgeous. They're having photographs taken right now. I have to join them as soon as your mother comes. Chauncey and Felicia are probably already downstairs.” She wasn't looking forward to that.
She didn't tell Harry that she missed him, because she didn't want to make him feel guiltier than she already had. There was no point. It hadn't gotten her anywhere. She had a brief fantasy that he was in the limousine with her mother-in-law, but she could hear from the sound of Max talking in the background that Harry was obviously still at home. This was just going to be one of those disappointments that happened in a marriage, that she would have to swallow and forget. There were lots of other things he did right. And other than this, he had always been there for her, and would be again. This was one thing he couldn't do for her, and that she had no choice but to accept. There was no point damaging their relationship over a coming-out ball he wouldn't attend. She couldn't allow it to mean that much. She said good-bye to him hurriedly, left the room, and took the elevator downstairs. She was waiting on the street for Frieda, shivering, when her limousine arrived. Frieda looked like a dignified grande dame in her elegant black dress, with her hair swept into a smooth French twist she had done herself, as the doorman helped her into the wheelchair, and wheeled her inside. Olympia took over from there.
Olympia got her in the elevator, and up to the ballroom level, where the girls' families were gathering to be photographed, looking proud. The mothers were given corsages of gardenias to pin on their dresses, carry, or wear on their wrists, and the girls were given wreaths of tiny white flowers to wear on their heads, and bouquets to carry when they walked out onstage. There was something exquisitely virginal about fifty young women all dressed in white, with wreaths of flowers on their heads, carrying their bouquets. It brought tears to Olympia's and Frieda's eyes.
“They look so beautiful,” Frieda whispered to her, and Olympia was profoundly touched to see what it meant to her. She was the grandmother of their hearts. She looked at Olympia then and shook her head. “I'm so sorry Harry's not here with you. He's even more stubborn than his father. I told him tonight I was ashamed of him,” she said unhappily, and Olympia patted her arm.
“It's all right.” There was nothing else she could say. He had taken a position, and stuck by it, whether she was disappointed or not. Frieda was stunned by her daughter-in-law's generosity about it. She wasn't sure she would have been capable of it herself. She was furious with her son, for letting Olympia down. But before she could say more about it, a tall blond man in white tie and tails approached them, with an equally tall blond woman at his side. It was Chauncey and Felicia. Olympia introduced them to Frieda. Felicia said good evening to Frieda politely, Chauncey ignored her entirely while he greeted his ex-wife. In spite of the fact that she'd dressed quickly, and paid little attention to herself, Olympia looked spectacular that night. Chauncey looked her over with a practiced air.
“You're looking well, Olympia,” he said, kissing her cheek. She thanked him, and shook hands with Felicia, who looked silly in a pink satin dress that was way too low and way too tight. Olympia was startled to notice that she looked cheap. She didn't remember her looking that way, but it had been years since they last met. She hadn't improved with age. And she could see that the girls' unflattering comments about her were right. She looked foolish, and dressed inappropriately for her age. Olympia's well-cut navy blue satin evening gown looked more elegant, much sexier, and wasn't nearly as low cut. Olympia looked spectacular and dignified. Chauncey seemed to notice it, too. He put an arm around her shoulders, and gave her a hug “for old times' sake.” Looking at him, Olympia suspected he was already drunk. And Felicia was well on her way. This was not going to be fun.
“Where are our girls?” he asked, glancing around.
“They're having photographs taken with their escorts. They'll take some with us in a few minutes.” She felt like a tour director on board the ship to hell. Everything about the evening had become difficult, from Ginny's heartbreak to Veronica's escort's blue hair, not to mention the butterfly tattoo, or the events of the week, from broken ankles to chicken pox, cold, and flu. It had been an insanely stressful week, and standing there with Chauncey and his wife, Olympia found it impossible to relax. It would have been easier for her if Harry were there. Instead, she was pushing his mother in a wheelchair. She could no longer remember what stroke of insanity had made her think this would be fun. So far, it had been anything but. She just hoped Ginny didn't lose another glove.
She got her first glimpse of Jeff then, since their encounter that afternoon. He walked out of the ballroom with Veronica, and his hair was no longer sapphire blue, but an inky dense shoe polish black. Not exactly a natural color, and it was easy to see it had been dyed. It looked very punk rock, but the committee had decided to ignore it. Olympia was grateful for small mercies. Jeff glanced at her with a look of supercilious amusement, and she had a powerful urge to slap him. He was arrogance personified, although admittedly a handsome kid, but the kind of boy who thought he was smarter than everyone, especially anyone's parents. She couldn't help wondering if Veronica had invited him to upset her. She had done everything else possible to do so since Olympia and Chauncey had forced her to make her debut. Veronica was doing it, but no one was going to force her to take it seriously, or enjoy it. And Ginny was still looking upset when both girls kissed their father, and said hello to Felicia. She told the girls they looked beautiful, and Frieda cried when she hugged them.
After family photographs, the girls, their escorts, and the girls' families all went to another floor for dinner. Olympia was sitting between Veronica and Frieda. Chauncey and Felicia were next to Ginny. Everything seemed to be going perfectly, until Chauncey got up to go to the men's room, halfway through dinner. Veronica had draped her stole over the back of her chair. It was too awkward to manage during dinner, in the slippery satin. She and her mother had momentarily forgotten why she had worn it in the first place. Chauncey stopped directly behind her chair and looked as if he'd been shot. He turned directly toward his ex-wife and stared at her in disbelief.
“Are you out of your mind?” She had no idea what had set him off, except that she'd noticed he'd been drinking. Felicia looked just as mystified as she did, and then Olympia saw him look at the artwork on his daughter's back. “Are you both totally crazy? How could you let this happen?” He was looking over his daughter's head right at Olympia.
“Actually, Chauncey,” she said, looking annoyed but aloof, “she got out of her cell and escaped, despite the handcuffs. Almost like Houdini.”
“You're not amusing. That's the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. She'll have it surgically removed, or I'm not paying tuition.” Whether or not he paid tuition for them seemed to have become his only form of blackmail and control over her, and recently, his mantra.
“I don't think this is the place to discuss that,” Olympia said with a quelling look. Everyone at the table was watching, and no one had seen what he was talking about, since the others were facing Veronica across the table. She turned to look at him, with open outrage.
“Stop threatening my mother. I'm eighteen years old, and I wanted to do it. She didn't even know I did it till this week.”