A Different Type of Debutante Ball

A DIFFERENT TYPE OF DEBUTANTE BALL

Mallory clomped into the kitchen, small clods of dirt falling from her boots to the floor. She looked down and saw the mess that she had made.  Slipping off her boots, she walked to the back porch and put her boots outside. Next, she walked to the broom closet, removed the broom and dust pan and started to sweep up the dirt.

“What are you doing?” 

Mallory looked up, and there, in all her glory, was her step-mother, Connie.

“Hey, Connie,” said Mallory.

“It’s Constance.”

It was Connie when she was Mallory’s nanny. Now that she was married to Josh, Mallory's father, it was Constance. No longer the nanny, now the new wife.

“Constance.”

“I asked you what you are doing.” Connie pointedly looked at the broom in Mallory’s hand.”

“Uh, cleaning up my mess.”

“We have people for that. You shouldn’t be doing that.”

Mallory rolled her eyes. Connie had certainly changed her tune since she’d become the lady of the manor.

“It’s not a problem. My mess, my choice.”

Connie folded her arms across her chest and continued to scrutinize Mallory.

“It’s not a good look, Mallory. We don’t sweep.”

“I do if I made a mess. Common courtesy.”

Mallory finished sweeping, put the broom and dust pan away where she had found them. She wasn’t sure that Connie would remember where the broom closet was now that she was Mrs. Josh — oops Joshua — Vandersnoot.

“And what are we wearing?” Connie looked her up and down, a frown almost creasing her botoxed brow. "It’s not very appealing.”

Mallory looked down at her outfit -- blue jeans and flannel shirt. She’d been out in the yard tending her vegetable garden — the one that had fresh fruits and veg destined for the food bank and lunch programs in underserved schools.

“I was working in the garden.”

It was Connie’s turn to roll her eyes. 

“Again, Mallory, we have people for that.”

“People who already have busy jobs, and shouldn’t be expected to look after my garden.”

“Regardless, it’s not a very ladylike endeavour. You should consider something less … earthy.”

Mallory didn’t respond. She just walked out of the kitchen and up to her room, looking forward to a nice long, quiet, shower before dinner.

*****

“Your father and I have something to tell you.”

Mallory, Connie, and Josh were sitting in the formal dining room. Gone were the informal meals that she used to eat with her mom and dad at the kitchen table, replaced with the formality of a proper dinner service. Connie had even hired a chef and server. Fine China, crystal, and silverware had replaced crockery, glasses and flatware.  

Mallory looked from her father to Connie.

God! thought Mallory, I pray to God she’s not pregnant!

“What?”

“We’re very excited,” said Connie.

Oh God, she is pregnant.

“What!?”

“Well, because your mother was a debutante, you have been invited to the ball in June.”

Mallory’s jaw hung open. She looked from Connie to her dad.

“What?”

“I took the liberty of sending in the application, and you were accepted as a legacy.” Connie was beaming. “Aren’t you excited?”

“No, Connie, I’m not excited.”

“Constance.” she said. “Why not? It’s a wonderful opportunity for young women to be introduced to society. You’ll make all kinds of connections, meet important people—”

“No. I’m not doing it. It’s archaic, demeaning, classist, and elite. Count me out.”

Now it was Connie’s turn to have her jaw hang open in shock. She turned to her husband.

“Joshua, say something!” she begged.

“Now Mallory,” said her dad. “Constance and I discussed this, and we think it was what your mom would have wanted.”

“No, it isn’t what Mom would have wanted. We talked about it, and she agreed that I didn’t have to do it if I didn’t want to. And I don’t want to do it.”

Mallory’s mother had died three years ago when Mallory had been fourteen. It hadn’t been too long afterward that Connie had started to ingratiate herself into her father’s life. They had married a year later. It wasn’t so bad. Connie had been Mallory’s nanny since Mallory was ten, when her mom first got sick, so they were familiar with each other. Mallory knew what to expect with Connie. Since the marriage, though, Connie had pretty much focussed on classing up appearances, in particular Mallory’s appearance.  

“People of our social status … When you get to this level of society … There are certain expectations for people of our social standing …”

Blah, blah, blah. She usually let if go in one ear and out the other. But, now, Connie had stepped right into Mallory’s lane.  

“I’m not doing it!” said Mallory. “And you can’t make me.”

She knew she sounded like a petulant child, but she didn’t care.

“Now, Mallory,” started her father. “Constance went through all the trouble of getting this invitation for you. She worked very hard to make sure you would be invited.”

“Yeah,” said Mallory, “without my permission.” She turned to Connie. “Why didn’t you at least ask me? I could have saved you all that trouble.”

Connie looked a bit surprised and shocked. “I thought it would be a happy surprise.”

Mallory wasn’t mollified. “Well, it wasn’t. And I’m not going to participate.” 

She put her napkin over her food, and stood. “And, now, if you’ll excuse me.” She walked out of the dining room.

*****

Mallory: I can’t believe they didn’t even think to ask me if I wanted to do this!

Troy: Sorry Mal. Connie had no right!

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Mallory: Gotta go. Someone's at the door.

“Come in.”

It was her dad.

“What’s up with you, Mallory? We thought you’d be excited. All the girls in your class will be there.”

That was part of the problem. Most of the girls that went to the Cartier Academy where not Mallory’s friends. They were too … too clique-y, too snobby, too materialistic, too narcissistic.  

“Dad, I don’t want to do the whole debutante thing. I went through Cotillion. That was enough. I know my manners, I know how to dance, shake hands, and make small talk. That was enough.”

“But it will help you in the future. It’s the perfect opportunity to mix and mingle. To make connections and network. Plus, it would help me touch base with other business leaders. It’s a win-win.”

She knew that there was a certain level of excitement at school over the upcoming Deb Ball — she’d heard the chatter. And she knew that the richer you were, the more likely you would be invited to the ball. And, Mallory’s family was just that rich. But, frankly, Mallory wasn’t interested in all the “fancy.” She was more interested in advocating for social issues — mental health care in schools for students without access, lunch programs, volunteering at the teen homeless shelter. She couldn’t care less about who was wearing which designer dress.

“I went to the Deb ball with your mother. It’s where we met. And I made some very important connections there, ones that have served me well in business. And your mother made friends that lasted until she died.”

Mallory knew that was true. Her mother and her two best friends, Charolette and Elizabeth had met at the Deb Ball. They became fast friends. But, that still didn’t mean that Mallory wanted to go to the Deb Ball. And, she didn’t need any more friends.

“Look, Dad, I don’t want to go. Mom knew that.”

Her dad looked crestfallen. “Just think about it, okay. Talk to your friends. See what they say. Then let me know.”

*****

Mallory:  My dad says it’s important to him.

Troy: Of course! Being a titan of business, and all.

Mallory:  LOL. No kidding! Got to go do my homework. Talk tomorrow.

Troy: See you tomorrow.

*****

The next morning Troy was waiting from Mallory by her locker.  

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

Mallory and Troy were kindred spirits. They had met at school, and found that they both had similar goals in life — share the wealth, help those less fortunate than themselves, equity for all. 

Mallory smiled at Troy.  

“I think I’m going to go.”

Troy was flummoxed.

“I thought—”

“But, there’s going to be a price.”

Troy smiled. This was the Mallory that he knew and loved.

“Do tell …”

*****

That night at dinner Mallory spoke up.

“I’ve decided to go.”

Connie clapped her hands, like a toddler. “That’s fantastic, Mallory! Fantastic!” she sang.

“That’s my girl,” said her father, beaming.  

“But,” said Mallory. “There are conditions.”

Connie and her father looked at each other. 

“Conditions?” said her father. “What do you mean ‘conditions’?”

“Well,” said Mallory, “what’s the ‘donation’ to attend?”

Connie spoke up. ‘What difference does that make? We have the money.”

Her father looked at Mallory.  

“I don’t think that’s what Mallory is concerned with.”

Mallory smiled. “You’re right. I will go to the ball if you will donate an amount equivalent to twice the cost of my attending. That includes everything — dress, shoes, hair, nails — everything. And, you buy a table and I get to bring who I want.”

Her dad was scrutinizing her. “Where are Constance I supposed to sit?”

“At the same table, or another. I don’t care. I just need eight seats for me and my friends.” She scrutinized her father. “And I get to donate the money to causes of my choice, no questions asked.”

*****

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of all things Deb Ball.

“Who will escort you to the Ball?” asked Connie. “You know you need two chaperones.”

“Troy and Anthony.”

“Are you sure they can, well, …” she searched for the correct phrasing. “Do they have the means? It is white tie and tails, after all.” she asked.

Troy was a scholarship kid, and nowhere near as affluent as Mallory’s family. Anthony was a giant ex-marine replete with neck tattoos and piercings.

“They’ll be fine.”

“And who is this Anthony person? Do we know his family?”

Mallory almost choked. Anthony was the manager of the teen shelter where she volunteered.

“No. I’m pretty sure you don’t. But he’s former military, which is keeping with the Deb Ball tradition.”

*****

There were so many small battles surrounding the prep for ball, but by far the biggest was the dress. Connie had visions of a dress by Vera Wang, or maybe Valentino for Mallory. Mallory had other ideas. She wanted a vintage dress. Connie was appalled.

“People will think that we can’t afford a new dress!” wailed Connie. “That will not do at all.”

“But, vintage is very on-trend right now. I’m sure that I can find something that will be suitable.”

“Impossible. You need to have a couture gown, in white. Where are you going to find something like that at the thrift stores?”

“Vintage stores. I’ve been looking. I’ve got a few possibilities.”

“That will not do. The Ball is in less than five months. We need to settle the dress issue now. While we still have time. I’m having my gown made by Gucci. Maybe we can see what they can do for you …”

Apparently it was decided. Without any input from Mallory.  But that didn’t mean that she was going to wear that dress.

*****

Finally the night of the ball arrived.  Connie and Josh were already down in the ballroom, so Mallory met up with Troy and Anthony in her hotel suite.

“Do you have it?” asked Mallory, excitement in her eyes.

“I do!” said Troy, handing Mallory the garment bag.

“I’m so excited!” she said, dashing off to change in her bedroom.

*****

“Presenting Miss Mallory Vandersnoot. Mallory is the seventeen year-old daughter of Mr. Joshua Vandersnoot, and Mrs. Amelia Vandersnoot, deceased, step-daughter of Mrs. Constance Vandersnoot. Mallory is a senior at the Cartier Academy. Mallory is escorted by Mr. Troy Franklin, also a senior a Cartier Academy and Mr. Anthony Spagnelli, retired army.”

Mallory entered the ballroom. Connie’s face went from anticipation to shock. Mallory was not wearing the Valentino gown they had decided on — or that Connie had decided on. Instead, she was wearing a very plain, very normal floor length dress. And without the pearls she had had Harry Winston create for Mallory. 

She turned to Josh. “What is she wearing!” she hissed. “That is not the dress we agreed on!”

But Josh didn’t hear Connie, he was too busy staring at Mallory.  

“She’s beautiful,” is all he said.

*****

After the Presentation of the Debutantes, Joshua and Connie found Mallory and her escorts.

Josh took Mallory’s hands and looked at her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Connie had her heart set on Valentino. I had my heart set on Mom.”

“It’s Constance! What is this dress? Why are you wearing it? Where is the Valentino?”

Mallory turned to Connie.

“This was my Mom’s Deb Ball dress. I had Troy’s mom do the alterations. She did a fantastic job.”

“But, the Valentino!”

“Never mind the Valentino, Connie,” said Josh. “I think she looks beautiful. As beautiful as her mother did twenty-five years ago.”

“It’s Constance!”

*****

Mallory had to admit the night was fun. They were an odd looking group. Mallory had invited four of the kids from the shelter, as well as Troy’s sister and her boyfriend, and Anthony and his husband. All were dressed in their finest “vintage” clothes — definitely not the latest styles, but quirky enough to almost be fashionable. Everyone danced and had a great time.

Well, everyone except Connie, who was mortified that Mallory had worn a dress from 1998.