The Flapper Who Could Have Been
Louise Piper was the living embodiment of the word “flapper.”
Her knees-in-dress silk stockings, rolled provocatively at the ankles, peeked out beneath the coat she had flung open wide, drawing curious glances with every step she took.
Deeply bobbed hair framed her face, and beneath the cloche hat that sat low on her forehead, her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief behind thick mascara lashes. Only the center of her lips bore the latest shade of red lipstick.
It had been a stroke of luck that Helen was the one who had driven her to the Plaza. Mildred would have whisked Mabel straight home the moment she laid eyes on her.
She imagined the life she had never been allowed: no permission needed to leave the house, no one to answer to, just the freedom of a motor car and the open road.
It was only a vague, distant dream. One denied to her.
“Louise probably married the man she loves,” Mabel said to herself, feeling a pang of envy for the freedom her friend took for granted.
It was true that her father was a celebrated physician at Mount Sinai, but her mother had been a Broadway star of renown.
They had grown close during their early college years, studying together in liberal-arts courses.
That summer, Louise had finally confessed her secret: she was the daughter of a mistress. She had wanted to tell Mabel before the truth became impossible to hide. Even if Mabel chose to keep her at arm’s length, Louise would understand.
Mabel, taken aback by the frankness, felt a deeper admiration for the girl who was so honest and bold.
After that, they were inseparable.
“Oh, this year’s Debutante! To welcome Miss Mabel Darlington in person—it is an honor for our family!”
Louise struck a mock courtly bow.
“Don’t tease me, Lulu.”
“You have no idea how surprised I was when I read the announcement. My best friend, Mabel Darlington, the Debutante of the Year! What kind of feat is required for that title? I’d love to be famous like you—‘Flapper of the Year,’ Miss Louise Piper!”
Louise pouted.
“Why are you doing that too?”
Mabel arched her brows, and Louise burst into delighted laughter, raising both hands in surrender.
“All right, all right, I’ll stop teasing.”
They strolled slowly along the path at the edge of Central Park.
“Now that you’re back in school, does that mean the Debutante season is over?”
“…”
Mabel lowered her head, expression darkening. Louise guided her to a bench.
Once seated, Louise reached for her cigarette case, then changed her mind and tucked it away. Instead she offered a stick of gum.
“Want some?”
Mabel shook her head.
“I’m fine.”
Louise tapped her forehead lightly.
“Oh, right— you said you’ve never tried chewing gum.”
Mildred had the habit of recoiling at the sight of anyone chewing gum, calling it beneath a lady’s dignity. She had drilled the lesson into Mabel’s ears until it was branded there.
Mabel herself found the act of opening her mouth and chewing noisily in public utterly unnatural; she had never dared try.
After a moment’s hesitation, she reached out.
“I changed my mind. I’ll try it.”
It was a small act of rebellion, hidden deep inside her.
“…”
“Go on, then,” Louise said with a giggle, placing an entire stick of gum on Mabel’s palm.
“Take it all. Don’t force it—try it alone when you’re by yourself first. Once you get the hang of it, you’ll be able to chew and blow a bubble right in front of Uncle Walter and Aunt Mildred. That would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? Don’t forget to peel off any gum stuck to your face and pop it back into your mouth.”
Imagining herself blowing a bubble defiantly before Walter and Mildred, Mabel laughed, and a strange lightness settled in her chest.
“Thank you, Lulu.”
She tucked the gum carefully into her coat pocket.
“Hah…”
Mabel sighed deeply. Louise tilted her head.
“Mabel, is something bothering you?”
Mabel looked at her steadily.
She had always appreciated friends who were free of prejudice and quick to listen. Besides, Louise was an outsider like herself; her heart felt safer here.
“Lulu, promise me you’ll never tell anyone what I’m about to say.”
Louise nodded solemnly.
“Don’t worry. You’re the only friend I have.”
Mabel poured out everything that had happened. Louise listened quietly, then asked carefully:
“So what do you want to do?”
Mabel bit her lip.
“I… I don’t think what I want matters much. No one ever listens to me anyway.”
She gave a sad smile.
“Except you, Lulu.”
Louise shrugged.
“You can tell me anything. Sometimes just saying it out loud solves things. When I told my mother’s story, I braced myself for your contempt. But look at us now—we’re still friends.”
Mabel’s eyes glistened. After swallowing hard twice, she managed:
“I… I want to go back to school. I have to honor Arthur’s will. I want to live more freely. Not as the Debutante of the Year, but to do something that truly matters.”
The moment she started, the truth she had kept inside spilled out.
“If I must marry, I want it to be to someone I choose. Someone I can respect and love. I hope this engagement is broken. Please, Lord Rochelet—change your mind. If that’s impossible, I’d rather run away on my own.”
She spoke without pause, chest heaving, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Wow.”
Louise let out a startled exclamation and handed over her own handkerchief.
Mabel dabbed her eyes with the lace edge, trying to laugh it off.
“I know. I’m asking for too much. I’ll probably be dragged to the altar in tears, like all those other Debutantes before me.”
Louise spoke softly.
“Honestly… I’ve always envied the life of a Fifth Avenue princess like you. The lives of your father’s wife’s daughters seemed dazzling. But a girl like me… I don’t think I could endure what you’re going through. Only today did I realize it.”
They sat in silence, watching autumn leaves rustle and roll at their feet.
Mabel checked her wristwatch and stood.
“I should go. Helen is to meet me at the conservatory stairs at four fifty. Thank you for inviting me for the walk. It really helped.”
Louise rose with her.
“I’ll walk you to the stairs. I don’t know when we’ll see each other next.”
“…Thank you.”
They walked in quiet companionship along the path.
Louise suddenly blurted:
“Mabel, I’m against running away. It’s far too dangerous.”
She chose her words with care.
“If you don’t run off with a great deal of money, you won’t have many options. Finding a position as a private tutor or secretary would be lucky, but those jobs are rare. Most girls end up sewing or doing menial work and, well… the wrong way. Especially pretty girls like you.”
Louise smiled bitterly.
“You may not understand what I mean, but promise me you won’t run off recklessly.”
She looked at Mabel with genuine concern.
“Don’t worry, Lulu. Forget what I said earlier. I was just frustrated.”
At that moment Louise stopped short. Her hazel eyes danced in the afternoon sunlight.
“I just had a crazy idea—want to hear it?”
Mabel smiled faintly and nodded.
“Yes, what is it?”
“What if you tried being a flapper?”
“…”
“The baron proposed because he needed the ‘Debutante of the Year’ to polish his reputation. So… why not just remove that reason?”
Mabel’s mouth fell open in utter disbelief.