Golden Girl(88)

JP invites Vivi to be his date for the Anchor Ball, held on the Saturday of Labor Day weekend at the Field and Oar Club. Vivi doesn’t have anything to wear, so Savannah lends her a pale pink sleeveless dress with a full skirt that makes Vivi feel like Audrey Hepburn. She borrows Savannah’s pearl necklace and earrings.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wear these yourself?” Vivi asks.

“I’m not going to the Anchor,” Savannah says. “You could not pay me enough money.”

“Why not?” Vivi says. She would feel more comfortable if Savannah was there. According to JP, nearly the entire club shows up for the Anchor. It’s a bastion of old-fashioned elegance. There’s a cocktail hour on the lawn where everyone gets pleasantly buzzed, then a sit-down dinner, then dancing all night to an orchestra. It sounds divine to Vivi—except for the part where she’ll finally meet Lucinda.

Lucinda won’t like her. Vivi comes from nowhere and no one. The Hamiltons and the Quinboros move in the same social circles, and the Hamiltons find Vivi pleasant and amusing, but their accepting Vivi as Savannah’s best friend is different from Lucinda accepting Vivi as JP’s girlfriend.

Or maybe it’s exactly the same, Vivi thinks. Maybe she can charm Lucinda with her intelligence, wit, self-sufficiency. She’s plucky! She’s a go-getter! Already she has been promoted to assistant manager at the dry cleaner’s and she’s in charge of training all the new staff. Besides this, she has a degree from Duke! She won the creative-writing award!

Vivi thinks back on all the hours she spent in the front seat of Brett Caspian’s Skylark driving around Parma, listening to the same songs over and over again. “Stone in Love,” “Jungleland,” “Fly Like an Eagle.” What a waste of time! She should have been reading Steinbeck or learning French or taking a ballroom-dancing class. She should have been improving herself, preparing for her eventual attendance at the Anchor Ball on Nantucket as the date of JP Quinboro.



Vivi and JP are ushered forward to shake hands with the commodore and rising commodore of the club before they officially enter the ball. Vivi tucks her cute pink velvet clutch (also Savannah’s) under her arm in a way she hopes seems elegant and Holly Golightly–like and offers her hand to the commodore. His name is Walter Rosen. His wife, Penny, is Lucinda’s best friend.

“Vivian Howe. Pleasure to meet you.”

Walter winks at Vivi and squeezes her hand warmly. “We’ve heard a hundred wonderful things about you,” he says. “Someone has finally captured the heart of our JP. Welcome, Vivi. My wife will be extremely jealous that I met you first.”

The rising commodore’s name is Chas Bonham. He’s only about ten years older than Vivi and JP, and though he’s more reserved than Walter, he’s very kind.

Receiving line completed, JP guides Vivi with a hand on her back to a server holding a tray of champagne flutes. He gives one to Vivi and takes two for himself. “Let’s get this over with.”

They find Lucinda standing in a circle of people out on the lawn. Vivi wore ballet flats at Savannah’s suggestion and now she’s grateful. She glides over the grass and stands at Lucinda’s elbow, waiting to be introduced. Lucinda no doubt notices her son and his date lingering but she’s in a conversation with the woman to her left about a disagreement she had in the A and P parking lot that morning. A man heading to the ferry had pulled his suitcase over Lucinda’s espadrille.

“Mother,” JP says.

“Jackie!” she says. She turns. “And you must be Vivian. JP hasn’t stopped talking about you and now I can see why. Aren’t you enchanting!”

Vivi offers her hand but her voice has left her.

“We’ll see you at dinner,” JP says. He wheels Vivi back inside to the bar and Vivi thinks, That’s it? It’s over? It was the blink of an eye. Vivi hadn’t uttered a single word.

She wonders if she’ll be seated next to Lucinda at dinner—but no, proper placement is boy-girl-boy-girl, and Vivi finds herself between JP and Walter Rosen. Lucinda is all the way across the table, so there’s no opportunity for conversation. Initially, Vivi is dismayed by this. Her main goal of the evening was to impress Lucinda, and her first chance was squandered. She might have looked enchanting but she stood there like a lamppost.

Vivi needs to be enchanting. She won’t fret about Lucinda; she’ll be present in the moment. There’s wine at dinner and warm rolls with pats of butter that look like roses. Walter asks Vivi about her time at Duke. He’s a basketball fan, so she throws around the names of the players she says she used to drink with at the Hideaway—Laettner, Hurley, Hill—and Walter laps it up like a kitten with cream. (It’s only a bit of an exaggeration; they were at the next table.)

Before dinner is served, the orchestra starts to play. Walter offers Vivi his hand. “Dance?”

Now? Vivi thinks. Yes—there are already couples out on the dance floor, and Vivi and Walter Rosen, commodore of the Field and Oar Club, join them. Walter is in his late fifties, Vivi guesses, and he’s a skillful dancer; all she has to do is let him lead. She feels light as a feather; the skirt of her dress twirls, and she smiles at Walter, smiles at the bandleader who is snapping his fingers as he sings “Mack the Knife,” smiles at the other couples on the dance floor and the guests who are still seated. She sees Bob and Mary Catherine Hamilton. Mary Catherine waves to Vivi and gives her the thumbs-up, which is very unlike her. An outward sign of approval!