happy memories with her and some sad ones. When she was old enough, they told her the circumstances of her mother’s death, and hid nothing from her. Remarkably, despite Camille’s drug use when she was pregnant, Ruby had suffered no ill effects from it. And although they did nothing different with Ruby than they had with Camille, all the things that had angered Camille about her parents were comfortable for Ruby, and she embraced them. She had no rebellious side, even in her teens, and was very conservative by nature, fascinated by their family’s history, and she enjoyed their traditions. She looked remarkably like Camille, and bore a strong resemblance to Eleanor as well, since mother and daughter had looked similar, except that Eleanor had dark hair and Camille was blond. Ruby had their features and their body shape, the same blue eyes, and her hair was red. Ruby was a beautiful child and grew into a very beautiful young woman.
Unlike her mother, she was an excellent student. She was accepted at Stanford, and her passion was computer sciences. She spent hours explaining computers to her grandfather, and Eleanor always laughed and said she didn’t understand a word and didn’t want to. Ruby preferred studying to social life, and she was shy about making friends, and often preferred to spend time with her grandparents to people her own age. She loved working in their shop during the summers. When the letter came that summer inviting Ruby to be presented at the cotillion and be a debutante, Eleanor was sure she wouldn’t want to, and would think it frivolous or old fashioned. A decade of girls before her had boycotted it, in the sixties and the days of “flower power,” not long after Camille had refused to do it. But by 1977, when Ruby received the invitation to be a debutante, she pounced on it and waved it at her grandmother.
“Can I do it, Grandma? Can I?” She was starting her freshman year at Stanford in September, but she loved the idea of being a debutante in December, right before Christmas, just as her grandmother had done, almost fifty years before. She said she had always thought it sounded like being Cinderella or a fairy princess for a night and Eleanor grinned when she said it, and was pleased. Life had a way of coming full circle.
“Of course you can. I was afraid you’d think it silly.”
“I think it sounds exciting. You made your debut. I want to too.” Eleanor smiled at the memory and Ruby’s reaction to it, the opposite of Camille’s vehemently negative response nearly twenty years before.
“It was different when I came out,” Eleanor said with a sigh. “People gave their own balls, they didn’t come out together the way they do now. I met your grandfather the night of my debut. He looked like Prince Charming to me.” Just for the sake of history, she showed Ruby her debut dress by Worth, still carefully preserved, and told her about going to Paris to have it designed for her. It looked old fashioned now, and very much of its era in 1928. She and Ruby went to Saks and picked out a beautiful white organza gown that floated around her and showed off her figure and tiny waist, and she invited a boy she’d gone to school with to be her escort. They were just friends and he was as crazy about computers as she was. She had had no serious romances yet and didn’t seem to care. But she could hardly wait for the big event in December.
* * *
—
Alex and Eleanor watched her come down the steps at the Sheraton-Palace Hotel on the arm of her escort in the beautiful white dress, with her flaming hair falling in waves down her back, and they smiled at each other. It was what they had wanted for Camille, and had been such a battle. And nineteen years later, Ruby was thrilled. She had loved looking at the photographs of Eleanor as a debutante, those of her grandfather at the same time, and the photographs of their wedding a year later. Eleanor had shown Ruby her wedding dress, and it didn’t look outdated. Ruby said it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
Ruby thoroughly enjoyed her presentation at the cotillion. Her escort had been the right choice, as just a friend. He was at Harvard, and they spent the whole night talking computers. And it