“Oh dear,” Frieda said, digesting the information Olympia had shared with her. “That's not good. What a foolish thing to do. I know they're fashionable now, but she'll be sorry she did it one day.”

“She's thrilled with it,” Olympia said unhappily. “I have to get her a new dress tomorrow. She can't wear the one she has. I have to get her one now with a high back. Or a stole. I'm not sure what kind of miracle I can pull off in a day.” And she was still feeling sick.

Frieda looked thoughtful for a moment, and nodded. “Get me four yards of white satin tomorrow, good stuff, not the cheesy synthetics. I'll make a stole for her. She can wear it for the presentation at least. After that, well… after that it's up to her and you. Would she wear a stole?” Frieda looked as worried as Olympia, not only for the long term, but for the debut ball, which was only two days away.

“She'll wear a suit of armor now if I tell her to,” Olympia said quietly. “I don't know when she was planning to tell me about it, but I'd have had a heart attack if I'd seen it when she makes her bow.” Olympia shook her head and looked at her mother-in-law. The two women exchanged a smile across the table. “Kids. They sure keep life exciting, don't they?” Olympia laughed ruefully, and her mother-in-law patted her hand.

“It keeps you young. Believe me, once they stop surprising us, it's all over and you miss them like crazy. My life has never been the same since Harry went to college and left home.”

“At least he never got a tattoo.”

“No, but he got drunk with his friends and tried to enlist in the Marines at seventeen. Thank God they rejected him because he'd had asthma all his life. If they'd have taken him then, it would have killed me. His father almost killed him. All right, let's be practical. Tomorrow you have to get me four yards of white satin, and we'll make her a stole to cover the tattoo. It's easier than finding a new dress, and I can have it done in a few hours. I don't even need my sewing machine. I can do it by hand.”

“I love you, Frieda. I swear, I thought I was going to faint when I saw that thing on her back. She had just gotten out of the shower. I guess she's been hiding it for months.”

“It could be worse. It could be a skull and crossbones, or some boy's name she won't remember by next year. How's Ginny's romance, by the way? Is the boy still coming?”

“Tomorrow night apparently, and she says it's okay. Veronica doesn't like him, and she has pretty good judgment about men, better than Ginny. I hope he's a nice kid. She's all excited about his seeing her in her gown.”

“It's all so sweet,” Frieda said, looking starry-eyed, “and don't worry, we'll cover the tattoo. No one will know except us.” It was lovely having a mother-in-law who wanted to solve problems and not cause them. Olympia knew that was rare and appreciated her enormously. She was more like her own mother than Harry's.

Olympia told Harry about the tattoo when she went to bed, and he was as upset as she was. Defacing one's body was not only against his aesthetic principles, but also against his religion. He could just imagine how Olympia felt. She was still upset about it early the next morning when she went out to buy the white satin. Afterward, she went to Manolo Blahnik to buy the white satin shoes, and had the fabric in Frieda's hands by noon. It was exactly the same tone, brightness, and weight as the fabric in the dress. It was perfect. By four that afternoon, when Charlie and Olympia came back from picking up the wheelchair, Frieda had the exquisitely sewn handmade stole hanging pristinely on a hanger. It was all done, and when Veronica modeled it for them when she got home, it was exactly the right length, and she promised to wear it the following night. For the ball at least, problem solved. It was a load off Olympia's mind, if not her heart.

She, Harry, and his mother were planning a quiet dinner at home that night. Harry offered to cook. Max was still in bed, watching videos night and day. And the older three were going out. Olympia was looking forward to a peaceful evening. Frieda tried the wheelchair, and declared it comfortable and efficient. It was going to make her life much easier the following evening. They left it folded up in the hall, so the driver could put it in the limo. Margaret had agreed to come by and pick Frieda up, since Olympia would already be at the hotel with the girls.

They enjoyed a cozy dinner that night on the second night of Chanukah. Frieda lit the candles and said the traditional prayer. Olympia loved to hear her do it, and it reminded Harry of his childhood, although he loved it when Olympia did it, too.

They were all getting ready to go to bed, when Olympia heard Ginny come in. There were voices in the downstairs hall, outside Frieda's room, the sound of running on the stairs, and then Olympia saw her fly past her open door and heard her sobbing.

“Uh-oh.” She looked at Harry. “Trouble in River City. I'll be back.” She went down the hall to Ginny's room and found her lying on the bed, crying uncontrollably. It took her mother nearly ten minutes to find out what was wrong. Steve had arrived from Providence that night, gone to dinner with her, and told her that he had actually come to New York to tell her it was over. He dumped her, and already had another girlfriend. Ginny was beside herself. She was crazy about him. Olympia couldn't help wondering why he had come to New York to deliver the message in person the night before her big event. He couldn't tell her afterward, or even on the phone? It seemed like a nasty stunt to her, and a devastating one to Ginny. There was little she could say to console her.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart… I'm so sorry…it was a rotten thing to do….” It didn't seem fair to tell hershe'd forget about him and there would be another thousand men in her life, after him. Right now it felt like a mortal blow, and a cruel trick.

“I'm not going tomorrow…,” Ginny said in muffled tones into the mattress. “I can't….I don't care anymore…. I'm not going to come out….I wish I were dead….”

“No, you don't. And you have to come out. This is a special moment in your life. You've been looking forward to it. You can't let this guy spoil it for you. Don't give him that. I know it feels awful right now, but you'll feel better tomorrow night… honest…I know you will.” Her heart was sinking. Why did he have to do that to her now? Couldn't he have waited till Sunday? Didn't the bastard have a conscience? Apparently not. Olympia went on talking to her for an hour, at the end of which Ginny still insisted she wouldn't do it. She was going to stay home the following night with Max and Harry. Veronica would have to come out alone. “I'm not going to let you do that,” Olympia said firmly. “I know you feel awful right now. But tomorrow night you're going to look beautiful on Charlie's arm, you're going to make your bow, and every boy in the room will fall in love with you. Ginny, you have to do this.”

“I can't, Mom,” she said, staring up at the ceiling, and looking as though the world had come to an end, as tears continued to roll down her cheeks. Olympia knew it felt awful, but there was no doubt in her mind that there would be life after Steve, the little shit. She wanted to strangle him for inflicting so much pain on her baby. All she could do now was help pick up the pieces.

It was nearly midnight when she got back to her own room. Ginny was miserable but calm again. She had finally stopped crying. And Harry was sound asleep. Olympia lay in bed next to him, closed her eyes, and silently prayed…. Please God, let everyone stay sane tomorrow and behave decently tomorrow night….I can't take any more surprises…. Please God, just for one night…. Thank you, God…. Goodnight. And with that, she fell asleep.





Chapter 8




The next day, Saturday, the day of the ball, dawned icy cold and brilliantly sunny. It didn't snow, it didn't rain, it was colder than the north pole, but it was a gorgeous day when Olympia woke up with trepidation. All she wanted to do was get through the day, dress the girls, watch them curtsy and come down the stairs, and survive the evening. It didn't seem like a lot to ask, but these days it was beginning to seem like a miracle if no one broke a leg, came down with a rare disease, or had a nervous breakdown. If anyone had one of those, Olympia was planning to be first.

At noon, she had to take the girls to get their hair done. She had an appointment in the same salon at two herself. By four they'd all be finished. She made breakfast for everyone, brought Frieda hers on a tray, and Frieda wished her luck for that night. She asked if there was anything she could do to help, but as far as Olympia knew, everything was in order. Both girls were still asleep. Harry had gone out early to play squash at his club. Max was feeling better. Charlie had spent the night with friends. For the moment, the house was peaceful.

At eleven o'clock, Ginny woke up and came rushing downstairs with a look of panic. She found her mother in Frieda's room, exploded into the room, and announced, “I lost a glove!” One of the long white ones, presumably, that were mandatory to wear. Her mother looked calm.

“No, you didn't. I saw them both yesterday. They were on top of your dresser, with your bag.”

Ginny looked instantly uncomfortable and slightly guilty. “I took them to Debbie's last night, to show her how gorgeous they were, and then everything happened with Steve. I forgot one of them there. She said the dog chewed it to bits last night.”

“Oh for God's sake …” Olympia struggled not to get upset. “When am I supposed to get another pair?… All right, all right… I'll go, now before I take you to the hairdresser. I hope they have another pair in your size.” Frieda watched with enormous admiration as Olympia handled the situation with aplomb. Ten minutes later Olympia was wearing jeans, a ski parka, fur-lined boots, and rushing out of the house. Miraculously, she was back just before noon, with another pair of the required gloves in Ginny's size. Problem solved. Disaster averted. Round one.

They left for the hairdresser at five to twelve, and after she dropped them off, Olympia came back to the house. She fed Max, made Frieda a kosher meal, and had a sandwich waiting for Harry when he came back from playing squash. Ten minutes later Charlie got home, and hovered around his mother. He seemed nervous, and she wondered if he was anxious about that night. She assured him he would be fine. She sat at the table for half an hour with Harry, and they chatted about assorted things. She didn't mention the ball to him. The subject was closed, and would stay that way. She went upstairs to change, and Charlie wandered into her bedroom.

“Are you okay?” she asked, and he nodded, looking distracted. “Something on your mind?” He shook his head and left again. She started to worry about him, but didn't have time. Then Margaret called. Her mother was running a fever after her mastectomy, and might have an infection. Margaret was still coming to the ball that night, but she was going to be late. She had to stay with her mother at the hospital and help her eat dinner. She didn't have time to pick Frieda up. She felt terrible to let Ollie down, but she had no other choice. Her mother was feeling rotten. Olympia said she understood, and stood staring at the phone for a minute, trying to figure it out. She had to be at the hotel with the girls from five o'clock on. Charlie had to be there by four, which left no one to accompany Frieda in the limousine. She had an idea then, and went to discuss it with Harry.

He listened carefully, convinced she was going to try and manipulate him into going with her at the last minute. She had given up all hope of that. All she wanted from him was to get his mother into the limousine, put the wheelchair in with her, and call Olympia on her cell phone the minute they left the house. Olympia would then go down to the lobby and out to the street, meet Frieda in the limousine, put her in the wheelchair, and get her upstairs to dinner before the ball. Olympia made it sound easy. The fact that she'd be dressing two hysterical girls, watching them be photographed, and trying to calm them down, while dressing herself, she didn't mention to her husband.

“Can you do that for me?” she asked after outlining her plan for his mother.

“Of course I can. She's my mother.” Olympia made no comment about his not going with them, nor asked him to join her. All she wanted was for him to get his mother into the limousine and call her. They both knew anyone could do that, and it was the least he could do, whatever his political opinions. He looked slightly embarrassed as he assured his wife he'd take care of it on his end.