Coming Out

Olympia got up at six the next morning to check on Frieda. Her cold was no better, but at least it wasn't worse. Her mother-in-law was still sound asleep, and there was no sign that she had gotten up during the night. She looked as though she hadn't moved an inch since Olympia had tucked her into bed the night before. Olympia had given her one of her own nightgowns, a big loose flannel one she'd worn when she was pregnant with Max. It was short on Frieda, and the sleeves were short, which she knew her mother-in-law didn't like. Her arms lay on top of the sheets, and Olympia could see the tattoo she always tried to hide. Seeing it, the rare times she did, never failed to make Olympia sad. It was impossible for her to imagine what those years must have been like for her. Knowing she had survived that always touched Olympia's heart. She tiptoed out of the room, and went back upstairs to take a shower. Harry was already nearly dressed. He had to be in the office for a press conference early that morning. And at seven, just as Olympia was combing her hair, Max woke up. He said he felt better, though he had as many spots as he'd had the night before, if not more.

“How are all your patients?” Harry asked as he put on his jacket and straightened his tie.

“Max says he feels better, and your mom is still asleep.”

“Can you manage?” he asked, looking worried but also rushed.

Olympia laughed. “Do I have a choice?”

“I guess not,” he said, looking apologetic. At least, he knew, now his mother going to the ball wouldn't be an issue. He had the excuse of staying home to take care of her, which he felt sure would get him off the hook, and make him look like less of a louse for not going. He had been feeling guilty about not going for weeks, but no matter how guilty he felt, he absolutely refused to go. And now his mother couldn't go, either. She could hardly go to a ball on crutches, unable to put any weight on one foot. He said nothing about it to his wife, but he was nonetheless relieved, although sorry about his mother's accident and the burden it would put on his wife. It seemed providential in some ways, for him.

“Don't worry,” Olympia reassured him. “The sitter will be here in half an hour. She can take care of both of them. And Charlie will be home tonight. He can give us a hand till the girls come home. Then we can all take turns.” He nodded, not entirely convinced that her optimism about her daughters was well founded. Ginny was not exactly famous for being helpful around the house. He knew Charlie would be a godsend, and if she was in the right mood and didn't have other plans, Veronica might lend a hand. Maybe. If there was no protest she felt she had to participate in, no one to picket, and no abused child or homeless person somewhere in the city whom she felt needed her help. Helping the family was low on her list of priorities, and as they all did, she counted on her mother to take care of everything. Somehow Olympia always did. Harry felt guilty about that, too. Five minutes later, with a quick kiss to his wife, and a promise to be home as early as humanly possible, he left for work.

Olympia made Mickey Mouse pancakes for Max, put on a video for him, and checked on Frieda in the den again. She was still asleep when the sitter arrived. Olympia was grateful to see her, explained about the condition of both their patients, picked up her briefcase, and literally ran out the door. There was a foot of fresh snow on the ground, but it had finally stopped falling. And as usual, in weather like that, it took her half an hour to find a cab. Margaret called her in the office that afternoon, and asked how things were going. All Olympia could do was laugh.

“Well, let's see, Max has chicken pox, Frieda broke her ankle yesterday and is staying in our den. I have the cold of the century. Ginny is sick at school. And Charlie's coming home tonight, thank God.”

“Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the performance?”

“Yeah. Right. When it rains, it pours. I just hope the girls stay in one piece till Saturday. After that, we can all fall apart.”

“What's Harry doing to help?”

“Nothing at the moment. He's dealing with a crisis at the court of appeals.”

“I know. I saw his press conference this morning. Just when I'd decided I hate the guy for not going to the ball with you, I fell in love with him all over again for the positions he takes. The guy is really a mensch, even though I think he's an asshole for not going with you on Saturday.”

“You can't have everything, I guess,” Olympia said with a sigh. “I love him, too. He stands for the right stuff, and is willing to fight for it to the death. Unfortunately, that includes his ideologies about the ball. I guess you can't have it both ways. He stands for what he believes. At least Chauncey is being decent. He must be sick.”

“If he gives you a hard time on Saturday, I'll kick him in the shins.”

“How's your mom doing?”