Coming Out

“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 !”