The Thetas

by Shawn James

  Time to get an answer to a question that’s been bugging me. “How does a 98–year old woman drive a Ford Mustang convertible?”

  Grand Mother Flowers smiles at me. “With two hands on the wheel. Don’t let her old age fool you, Andi could handle a stick shift.”

  “Except for that fateful day in 1973.”

  “She took a wrong turn on a winding road.”

  I study the older pictures of Andrea Robinson. She doesn’t have that good black that doesn’t crack, she’s got titanium. “For a 98–year–old woman she doesn’t look a day past 60 in her older photos.”

  “You should have seen her when she was in her twenties. She could turn heads in a ballroom. And that chestnut brown hair of hers was the envy of many a pledge.”

  “The ones who didn’t make it?”

  “I never could find a dye to match that color.”

  We both share a laugh. I didn’t see that joke coming.

  “I was a big ball of tension before I met Andi.” Grand Mother Flowers continues. “So scared of White folks, and their silly little Jim Crow laws. Andi taught me how to relax. How to have fun. How not to take everything so seriously.”

  “You make it sound like being here wasn’t torture.”

  “Are you kidding? It was the best month of my life. It felt great to just be around other girls my own age and not worry about some White boogeyman trying to get me.”

  “You couldn’t do that on the college campus?”

  “There was a lot of pressure in school back then. A lot of us were the children of the first anyone and we were working towards being the second anything in our families.”

  “So you worried about more than grades?”

  “Much more. Along with our grades, there were the rednecks in town, the police, and the Klan. Not to mention some members of your own social class playing crabs in a barrel. A Theta challenge was a cakewalk compared to what we had to deal with going to college back in the 1930’s.”

  Listening to her story puts things in perspective for me. I really have it good if the only thing I have to worry about is ruining a hairdo in the pool.

  “At least you had the support of your sisters.”

  “That got me through a lot back in those days.” Grand Mother Flowers says. “Pledging at the Theta House in those days was like a vacation for a lot of us. A break from all the pressures of racism, school, and our jobs. What you call torture today was a lot of fun in the 1930’s for us.”

  She has a point. After a rough start, I have to say I’ve been having a good time here. Almost as good as the time I had in Tahiti last year.

  “I really take this place for granted.”

  “You’ll come to appreciate it once you get back out there.”

  I’m coming to appreciate my relationship with her. “Daddy tells me you were worried about me when I was little.”

  Grand Mother Flowers smiles at me as she takes a seat on the foot of her bed. She gestures for me to have a seat next to her. I ease onto the bed and catch her friendly eyes as she takes my hand. “You meant a lot to me.”

  “Because of my inevitable destiny as heir to the Anderson Fortune and its value to the Theta network–”

  “Because I knew how much your mother and your father loved you.”

  Crap, I just ate another toe jam sandwich. “You have a breath mint? I need to get the taste of foot out of my mouth–”

  “They’re on the dresser.”

  I notice the crystal jar with mints in them. I grab one and scarve it down. Grand Mother Flowers continues her story.

  “My husband and I were at the hospital when you were born along with you father and Aunt Margaret. Andi was there too.”

  “You make it sound like my birth was an event.”

  “It was. There was so much love in that room when your mother showed you to us. If you could have only felt it.”

  Hearing her story makes me feel it now. I’m glad to know so many people cared about me back then.

  “Millie made me your godmother.”

  “So if anything happened to Daddy–”

  “You’d have been living in Atlanta with my two sons.”

  I wonder what I’d sound like with a Southern drawl instead of a New York accent. Although I think being called Cawleen would start to grate after a while. “Daddy told me how you wanted to move up here after Mom died–”

  “Yes, I was going to quit my job at Spellman, uproot my entire family from Georgia to help Jack raise you. But Charles talked me out of that.”

  “Charles is your husband?”

  “For the past forty years. He usually talks some sense into me when I come up with crazy plans.”

  “You were that afraid of Aunt Margaret’s influence over me–”

  “Well, Jack leads a busy life. I was that afraid without your mother you’d have no positive female influence on you.”

  “Well, it was like mother, like daughter in the old Penthouse de Anderson when I got older.”

  “You two had a lot of fights?”

  “All the time. She just took things to such an extreme. I could never do anything right in her eyes.”

  “That’s why you feel so awkward now?”

  “Yeah.” I blurt. “I’m starting to work out of it now that I realize that you guys aren’t going to judge me as harshly as she does.”

  “Margaret and her extremes are one of the reasons I wanted to move up here.”

  “What made you stay in Georgia?”

  “As much as I wanted to get involved, I realized I had to step back. I had to trust God that you’d be raised right by your father.”

  “You honored his decision to raise me by himself.”

  “He was the leader of his family. I had to respect that.”

  I have to admire her integrity. She practices what she preaches. “You know a lot of women would have went and did what they wanted anyway–”

  “Too many women undermine their men. They don’t know the difference between support and sabotage.”

  “You wanted to be a help not a hindrance.”

  “I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t support your father in whatever decision he made.”

  “But you didn’t want to leave him alone–”

  “Oh, he was never alone. I counseled him over the phone when he had a situation with you like bras and that sort of thing. And he advised me and Charles on how to help Jason and Rodney.” But he wanted the decision on whether you got involved with me to be yours.”

  “I was leaning towards passing on the whole Theta experience.”

  “He believed you’d make the decision that was right for you.”

  I’ll admit that little guilt trip did twist my arm in the right direction. “And I’m glad I did come up here. I would have missed out on so much if I stayed in the city this summer. I’m getting a whole different picture of my family than what I would have gotten just from him.”

  “That was one of the reasons Jack wanted you to come up here.”

  A thought hits me in the head. “Would you have been involved in my life if I decided not to pledge?”

  Grand Mother Flowers thinks about it. “I probably would have asked Jack to introduce us after you finished school.”

  If we were introduced then it would have probably been four years too late. I would have so brainwashed by feminist ideologies that I wouldn’t have ever been able to make a connection with her or appreciate anything that she’s given me.

  “But we wouldn’t have gotten as close as we have now.”

  Grand Mother Flowers eyes light up. “You know we’re not family–”

  “But I’d like us to be.” I say closing my hand in hers.

  “I’ve waited a long time to be a part of your life.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to wait so long.”

  “I wish I didn’t have to wait so long.”

  “We better appreciate the time we have.”

  “I already appreciate everything you’ve give
n me.”

  I give Grand Mother Flowers a hug. She feels my love from the embrace and I feel hers. I may not have the pin yet, but for the first time I feel like I’m a part of a larger family.

  Grand Mother Flowers breaks the embrace and smiles at me. “I hope you get the chance to say thank you at the end of the month.”

  Chapter 58

  I stroll out of Grand Mother Flowers room down the hall into my own suite. Marcy and Abby turn from watching the movie they’re watching to greet me with smiles as I flop into my bed.

  “Kicked out of the lounge again?” I ask.

  “Yeah, The Dean Mothers pulled rank on us again.” Abby replies.

  “It’s Diana Ross Night.” Marcy says. “Mahogany and Lady Sings the Blues.”

  They’re probably singing the blues about their low rungs on the Theta ladder. Maybe I can cheer them up. “Do you guys know a good shoe shop in town?”

  The ladies light up on hearing my plans. “You’re going shoe shopping?” Abby asks.

  “You did ask what I was doing Monday.”

  “I thought you were going swimming–”

  “Tomorrow’s going to be eighty eight degrees and humid. But Monday’s going to be eighty with low humidity. Perfect weather for shopping.”

  “I know just the place in town for shoes.” Marcy says. “Zapatas. It’s right across the street from Madame Panache. They have the best pumps.”

  While I’m used to the heels, the NYU campus is a place where I’ll really need something with a softer sole to get to class on time. “I may need something a bit more practical for everyday wear Marcy.”

  “They have sneakers too.” Marcy continues.

  “The only place I’m wearing sneakers is in the gym.” I say. “I’m done with the running shoes.”

  “Looks like you’re changing your style from head to toe.” Abby quips.

  “What can I say? I like my formal stance.” I say.

  Chapter 59

  The clock reads 2:45 as I fall into bed and stare up at the ceiling. For the first time in twelve years I feel like I’m not alone. I have friends. A sense of identity. Maybe even a chance of being whatever normal is. For the first time in my life I like who Colleen is and who she’s going to become.

  Chapter 60

  I swim from the deep end of the pool to the shallow end, twist my body around and swim back to the deep end. Losing that eleven pounds has really helped improve my speed. I haven’t been this fast in the water since seventh grade.

  As I finish my lap, Marcy gestures to me on the shallow end of the pool. I hop out of the pool and hurry over to her. “What’s going on Marcy?” I inquire as I take my earplugs out.

  “Just wanted to know if you wanted some lemonade. Rosa’s coming out with a pitcher.”

  I could use a drink after all the exercise I’ve been getting over the past half hour. “Yeah, I’ll take a glass. Just let me rinse this chlorine off. ”

  Marcy heads over to the shaded side of the pool where the lounge chairs are. I dart over to the teak shower across from it and rinse the chlorine off my body. After I towel off I slip off my swim cap and stroll over to the lounge chairs to wait for my drink. When I ease into the chaise between Marcy and a sleeping Abby I feel the thickness of the humid air.

  A curious Marcy leans over her chaise and catches my eyes. There’s something she wants to talk about. “Man, you were cutting through that water like a fish.” Marcy says.

  I was almost up to junior high form. “I used to be on the swim team back when I was in eighth grade.” I reply.” I won first place in the 200 meter back then.”

  “Wow. Do you swim regularly in the city?”

  “Not as often as I’d like. You know Black women’s hair and water don’t mix–”

  “You’re part Iroquois–”

  “It still makes me Black enough to stay away from any water that’s not in a glass. Marteen, my hairdresser will probably throw a fit once I get back to the city–”

  “Your hair doesn’t look that bad–”

  “I probably have a kajillion split ends after all the styling and re–styling I had to do from those little dips in the pool.”

  Marcy hops onto my chaise and takes a handful of my hair in her hands. “It’s in pretty good shape. Thankfully you didn’t put a lot of heat on it. Now that would cause the split ends.”

  I get a closer look at her hair as she examines mine. Not a split end in that head of bouncy dark curls. “Do you ever do any swimming in Georgia?” I inquire.

  “I finally learned how to last year.”

  “I thought you’d know how to swim coming from Trinidad–”

  Marcy smiles at me. “Not with Christian extremist parents. To them swimsuits are what whores wear.”

  “You better watch out with the W word. It might cost you some money–”

  “You keep it between us I’ll buy you dinner the next time you visit Atlanta.”

  I smile as I look her up and down in her yellow polka dot bikini. “You know, your parents would probably throw a fit if they saw the suit you were wearing–”

  “You should have heard the string of pseudo profanity when I they got the picture of me wearing this suit at Myrtle Beach.” Marcia laughs.

  I laugh about the revelation. “You know that’s not very Christian–”

  “I know. But it was fun to get a rise out of them.”

  We share a chuckle imagining the tantrum. As the laughter ends, I catch Marcia’s smile. “Since it’s so warm tomorrow I think I’ll wear my capris.” Marcia continues.

  Capris? That doesn’t sound like it fits within the Theta dress code. “I thought we were supposed to be in suits and heels whenever we’re about-”

  “It’s our day off. We can wear whatever we want.”

  …And my quest to buy shoes to complete a fall outfit has now turned into a summer fashion emergency. I don’t have anything casual in that wardrobe of mine thanks to Aunt Margaret. That’ll teach me to go shopping with a bad attitude.

  Chapter 61

  A closet full of designer clothes. And not a thing to wear.

  Fresh from my shower, I stand in front of my rack in my underwear pondering my casual options among the dress clothes I have. What can I mix and match together that won’t make me look overdressed?

  Let’s see…I have on a taupe bra and panties. I’ll try to match from there. What won’t show through beige? Hmm…I haven’t worn this yellow sleeveless broadcloth blouse yet. Kind of plain, but it should conceal my lingerie.

  And there’s this yellow floral print skirt. I always thought it was kind of gaudy, but Aunt Margaret insisted on buying it because it’s Versace. I doubt I’d wear this at an official Theta affair. Well, the flowers are a small print. It’ll get me through shoe shopping.

  I grab the clothes off the hangers and quickly get changed. Then I take the pair of yellow strappy slingback sandals off the shoe rack and step into them. I hurry out of the walk–in closet out to the bedroom to meet up with Marcy and Abby who are dressed in khaki Capri pants, loafers, and pastel colored sleeveless buttondown blouses. They stifle snickers at the sight of my skirt.

  “Yeah, I know it’s bad.” I snarl.

  “Let me guess. Your aunt picked it out.” Abby says.

  If I had been a little less apathetic then I’d be wearing something a bit more conservative right now. “It’s all I have that’s casual.”

  “Well, it makes a statement.” Marcy says.

  “That I have no taste–”

  “Hey, if you’ve got enough personality, you can make it work.” Marcy continues.

  I head over to the full length mirror and laugh at myself. It looks like a big ball of sunshine, but maybe I can make it work I just have to put some personality into it. I know just the accessory to make this outfit stand out and make a statement about me. “Just give me a sec. I’ll be ready to go in a minute.”

  I rush back into the walk–in closet and find a wide brimmed yellow straw
hat I haven’t worn yet. I ease it on my head and strut back out into the bedroom. The response I get when I come back out is a lot more positive than a few minutes ago.

  “Now that’s an outfit.” Abby says.

  “Is it the hat?” I ask.

  “No, it’s something else.” Marcy replies.

  I sling my purse over my shoulder and we file out of the suite and head downstairs. We run into Grand Mother Flowers on our way out. “Colleen, you look so radiant. I love that skirt.”

  I might just give it to her after today. “Thank you Grand Mother Flowers.”

  “Where are you off to?”

  “We’re going to do a little shoe shopping.”

  “Great. Have fun.”

  “Oh, I’ll need all three of you to meet me in the gym tomorrow morning at seven. Wear a pair of comfortable heels with your gym clothes.”

  Sounds like we’re all in for a Theta Challenge. “Theta Challenge?” I ask.

  “Something like that.” Grand Mother Flowers says as she smiles at me.

  The easy tone of her voice makes me relax as we head out the door. Whatever’s coming tomorrow probably won’t be bad. It’ll be horrible. And the best way to take my mind off it is with a little shopping.

  Chapter 62

  I hear the Rolls easing into a stop. When I feel Marcy’s fingers reaching for my blindfold, I know we’ve arrived in town.

  As the blindfold is pulled away from my eyes, warm air fills the backseat of the sedan. Rumsfeld greets us with a smile as we ease out of the car and step onto the street. “We’ll probably be finished by four Rumsfeld.” I say. “You can pick us up then.”

  “I’ll meet you here then Miss Anderson.”

  “Thank you Rumsfeld.”

  Rumsfeld gets in the Rolls and drives off. As we stroll down the block, I find out if I’m being steered to yet another Theta business.

  “Is Zapatas owned by a Sister too?” I ask.

  “Penelope makes more money selling shoes than clothes.” Marcy replies.

  Girls do like shoes more than clothes. “Penelope owns Madame Panache and Zapatas?”

  “Yeah. She lets her daughter run the shoe store.” Abby says.

  “When did she get her Theta pin?”

  “1989.”

  So she got her pin just a few years ago. If the selection of shoes is as diverse as her selection of lingerie, I’m eager to see what she has to offer in terms of footwear. Perhaps I’ll buy more than one pair.