The Season (28 page)

“Just—your sister was in this, and your cousin. Not that you'd be mean about it, but I was sure you'd tell them, and three people can't keep a secret. I spent the last four months just waiting for the shoe to drop, but you really never told anyone, did you?”

“Not a soul. I didn't think it was anybody's business.”

“I never thought I'd make it this far,” she said. “Once it came out I figured they'd dump me, or Lauren and Ashley would make it so hard on me I wouldn't be able to stay. I was so freaked out that a month ago I came out to my parents—just to prepare them for what was coming.”

“Wow. And?”

“Best thing I ever did,” she said. “Anyway, just wanted to say thanks—and good luck.”

“You're welcome. You too.”

Abby came back and gave me the big thumbs-up. We fist-bumped as she went to give Ann a hug. I smoothed my dress and wet my lips, stepped to the edge of the curtain.

“Miss Megan Lucille McKnight!”

I emerged into the hot, bright lights and heard the applause. I took Dad's arm and he led me slowly,
majestically to the center of the stage. I nodded to him politely and started down the catwalk. It seemed very long and the crowd dim and far away.
You got this
, I thought, and two steps from the end I decided to try a version of the Texas Dip I had never practiced, and never heard any other deb talk about. Out there exposed alone under the lights, I was on a tightrope without a net.

I stopped and looked at the crowd, and began to bow. But instead of folding my right leg behind me, I simply let it stick straight out in front and did a pistol—a one-legged squat—on my left leg. I did them all the time in workouts, and with my wide skirt nobody could see which way my right leg was pointing. On only my left foot I lowered myself in one smooth and graceful and continuous motion all the way to the floor. The applause grew and my leg quivered slightly under the strain, but nobody could see it. I held my bow a full extra second. Just as the crowd thought I might be in trouble like Lauren, I flexed my left quad hard and squeezed my gluteus maximus tight and easily pushed myself back to standing. The crowd roared its approval at my devastatingly perfect Texas Dip. I smiled and waved in both directions, and scooted back to Dad, who led me backstage with a proud smile. I had arrived.

Afterward there were hugs, and Mom told a large crowd about my talk with Mrs. Gage, how I had invoked old Angus, then finished by saying, “
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a debut to make!
” Everyone died laughing and this remark enshrined me as a folk hero in Bluebonnet lore.

Zach and Julia congratulated me, and Julia held on to me fiercely.

“I am so proud of you!” Julia said.

The first dance was always dads and daughters. Out on the dance floor, Dad put one hand on my shoulder, the other on my waist, and we turned slowly to the music.

“Did you grow taller?” he asked.

“These are three-inch heels!”

“Where did you learn to walk in three-inch heels?”

“I've learned a lot of things in the past few months,” I answered.

“Me too. Was it as bad as you thought?”

“No.”

“Good, because I never, ever want to make you unhappy.”

“You could never make me unhappy, Dad.”

As the song ended, Andrew appeared beside Dad.

“May I?” Andrew asked formally. Dad nodded and gave way. Andrew held me and we began to dance.

“I've been thinking about something,” I said a moment later.

“What?”

“Well, if I'm in Dallas, and you're in New York, how are we ever going to see each other—Skype?”

“Actually,” he said, “I'll be spending a lot of time down here in the next year or so.”

“Why's that?”

“I have a new venture. I'm developing a historic ranch in
Texas.”

I stopped dancing and put my hands on his shoulders.

“You're joking, right?”

“I told you I like to recycle historic things. I'm buying the Aberdeen.”

“Shut the front door!” I said, and whacked him on the arm with my cast.

“Your dad showed me Hank's plans, and I thought, why not do it that way?”

I found my dad's face in the crowd, and he nodded. Andrew now put both hands around my waist, and pulled me toward him. It was . . . comfortable.

“But don't think I did it just because I like you, or out of charity. I'm gonna make some serious money on this.” He noticed the worry on my face. “What's wrong?”

“It's just—look, I'm worried about my dad. What's he gonna do now, without a job?”

“Oh, he's got a job.”

“I don't understand.”

“That's the best part,” Andrew said. “It's the one thing Hank missed. You wall off a chunk, keep part of the historic cattle ranch at the center of the whole thing, but scaled down—fewer horses, fewer cows, no expectation to make money. It makes the whole thing authentic, and you keep the historic designation. The development really will sell itself.”

I had been horrible to this man. I had insulted him, been rude to him, humiliated him in the tabloids. He'd seen me at my worst, with all my defenses down, and he still liked me.
No, he said he loved me.
I knew I could be myself around
him, and it gave me hope. I put my head on Andrew's shoulder and we began to dance again, and other couples joined in: Mom and Dad, Julia and Zach, Uncle Dan and Aunt Camille, Abby and Hunter, all the other moms and dads.

I saw them all, maybe for the first time, as they really were: complex, flawed, human, and beautiful. Mom could be manipulative and demanding and still have my best interests at heart. Margot could dress like a gnome and still have great taste in clothes. Andrew could be awkward and disgustingly rich and still be an amazing guy. I could be a tough jock and rock a ball gown.

I'd been so worried that making my debut would change me, but here I was, at the end of it all, and I was still me. Only better.

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