Sorority Sister

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Sorority Sister Page 2

by Diane Hoh


  “I just felt like a hamburger,” she said, “and I figured you might, too.”

  “You don’t look like a hamburger,” Jenna quipped. “And I don’t feel like one. I’m ordering the taco salad. But I’m still glad you called.” Then she added, her brown eyes focused on Maxie’s face. “Something is up. I can tell. What’s wrong? Your new pledgie giving you a hard time? Does she drop the ‘g’ endings on her words? Wear plaids with stripes? One of my favorite wardrobe combinations, by the way. Is she dating a guy in, oh, don’t tell me, fine arts instead of the much more desirable premed, prelaw, or business administration programs?” Jenna shook her head in mock despair. Her short, thick blonde hair moved around her cheeks. “Tsk, tsk, when will these girls learn?”

  Maxie didn’t laugh. She knew she shouldn’t tell Jenna what had happened. She had promised not to tell. And although no one at Omega house had ever specifically said so, she had a strong feeling that everyone there would frown on her wish to share their bad news with an “outsider.”

  What was she thinking? Jenna wasn’t an “outsider.” She was a very good friend.

  When they’d given their order to the waitress, Maxie nodded and confessed, “You’re right. Something did happen. But it doesn’t have anything to do with Cath. She’s fine.”

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Jenna said, “but I think in Cath’s case, moving into a sorority house is definitely a move up, considering where she’d been living.” She shuddered. “That creepy old house down the road gives me the willies. Always has. I never could figure out why anyone would actually sleep there. Or how they could sleep there. So dark and gloomy … reminds me of the house in Psycho.”

  “Nightingale Hall is pretty creepy,” Maxie agreed.

  “Nobody calls it Nightingale Hall anymore,” Jenna reminded her. “Not since that girl died there. Everyone I know calls it Nightmare Hall now. Makes sense to me.”

  “I’d forgotten about that girl.” Maxie unfolded a white paper napkin on her lap. “I never knew much about it, except that it was all resolved eventually. But Cath told Erica she liked it there. At least, she said she liked the people who live there, especially Jess Vogt, Ian Banion, and Milo Keith. I’ve seen Cath on campus with Milo.”

  Their food came, and when Jenna had taken a forkful of salad, chewed, and swallowed, she stuck her fork in the bowl and, leaning forward, said, “You still haven’t told me what evil has befallen Omega house. That’s an antique, that house. Maybe you’ve discovered a pre-Civil War ghost hanging out on the third floor?”

  Maxie shook her head. “Nothing like that. It’s …something was …taken, that’s all.”

  “Taken?” Jenna looked skeptical. “Am I safe in interpreting that to mean stolen? As in snatched, absconded with, robbed, ripped off?”

  “Well, we’re not sure.”

  “Not sure? What, you sorority types don’t know what being robbed means?”

  “Of course we know. But … well, the thing that was taken was …returned.”

  Jenna sank back against the seat. “Ah, a thief suffering pangs of guilt. Shouldn’t have gone into that line of work in the first place, if you ask me. Obviously not cut out for it. So, what was snatched? The silverware? TV set?”

  “A jewelry box. Erica’s jewelry box. But then, a messenger brought it back this afternoon. Weird. Really weird. Who steals things and then sends them back?”

  “A thief with a very lenient return policy?” Jenna joked. Then, her voice suddenly serious, she added, “Do you think that someone in the sorority, actually stole the thing?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I figured you’d say that. But it’s pretty creepy to think someone came into the house — I mean, don’t you lock your doors?”

  “Of course we do! Usually. I mean …” Maxie’s voice weakened …“sometimes. I guess sometimes we forget. It’s such a nuisance, with people running in and out all day, locking and unlocking all the time.”

  “Yeah, well, what’s really a nuisance,” Jenna said as Maxie noticed Brendan entering the diner, “is having thieves running in and out all day. Maybe you should think about coming back to Lester, Max. The only people running in and out of the dorm are regular, everyday weirdos like yours truly. Besides,” she added quietly, “I miss you.”

  But Maxie was already telling Brendan hi, smiling up at him, and really didn’t hear Jenna’s final comment. Nor did she see the way Jenna’s usual happy expression changed abruptly.

  When Brendan and Maxie suggested politely that Jenna tag along to the movies with them, she said, “Oh, wouldn’t I just love to be a third wheel. The fact is,” she said, flushing slightly, “I have a date. A guy from my chem class. He’s no Tom Cruise, but he was incredibly impressed when I told him I intend to be an entomologist. Most people flinch and say, ‘A bug person? Yuk!’ He thought it was neat. So I said yes when he asked me out. We’ll do the movie another time, the three of us. Call me.”

  Someone called out a hello to Brendan then and when he had taken a few steps away from the booth to speak to the friend, Jenna turned to Maxie with concern in her eyes and said, “Listen, think about what I said, okay? I didn’t get another roommate after you left. I decided I preferred my privacy. But I make exceptions for exceptional people, so your bed is there whenever you want it back.” She turned away, saying over her shoulder, “You shouldn’t stay in a place that isn’t safe. You don’t want the same thing happening to you that happened to that girl at Nightmare Hall.”

  Maxie felt a cold chill as she watched Jenna hurry away.

  Chapter 3

  THAT NIGHT, FOR THE first time since she’d moved into Omega house, Maxie slept poorly. She jerked abruptly awake half a dozen times, thinking she’d heard a sound. Each time, although she listened intently, she heard only the silence of a sleeping house and Tinker’s deep, even breathing. Each time, it took her a while to drift back into sleep, only to be awakened again a short while later.

  She awoke on Sunday morning tired and irritable.

  “You’d better cheer up,” Tinker warned when Maxie had snapped at her for the third time. “We’ve got The Moms’ coming today. We all have to be on our best behavior.”

  Maxie groaned aloud. The moms! She’d forgotten. Erica’s mother, Joan Bingham, an Omega Phi member herself, had rounded up a group of other Omega Phi mothers whose daughters were now in the house, and scheduled a visit for the “first nice Sunday in spring.”

  “It’s not really spring yet,” Maxie grumbled, replacing the jeans and sweater she’d planned on wearing, selecting instead a skirt and a white long-sleeved blouse. “And I don’t feel like being polite and entertaining the moms. I wouldn’t think. Erica would, either, not after what happened yesterday.”

  “She probably doesn’t. But she can’t very well call her mom and cancel at the last minute.”

  Maxie’s mother hadn’t been an Omega, but Tinker’s mom and Candie’s were, and they were planning to make the trip with Erica’s mother, and four or five others. “Well,” she said grudgingly, “I guess you’ll be glad to see your mother. I will, too,” she admitted, remembering the warm welcome she’d received when she spent three days at the Gabrielle house during Christmas vacation. “Your mom’s okay.”

  Unfortunately, Maxie had completely forgotten about the visit. All of the girls were expected to be there to welcome the guests and to attend the tea scheduled for that afternoon. But she’d forgotten …and had made a date to go canoeing on the river with Brendan that afternoon.

  “You’d better call him right now,” Tinker suggested. “You know how he hates it when sorority stuff ruins his weekend. The longer you wait, the worse it’s going to be.”

  Taking her advice, Maxie went to the phone.

  Calling him right away didn’t help that much. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?” Brendan asked, clearly irritated.

  “I forgot. Erica’s mom had been saying for months that they were coming, but we didn’t find out that it wa
s this Sunday until this week. I’m sorry. The tea won’t last all day. How about a movie tonight?”

  His voice was curt. “Maybe. I guess I’ll give Jenna a call. Maybe she’d be interested in a canoe ride.”

  Maxie stared at the receiver in her hand. Jenna? “You’re going to take Jenna canoeing?”

  “Sure. Why not? We’re both taking a back ‘seat to your sorority sisters.”

  Maxie was speechless. Jenna?

  “Look, Maxie,” Brendan said into the silence. “I told you when you moved into that house, if sorority life is what you want, fine. Your choice. But I also said that I’m not sitting around doing crossword puzzles while you do your sisterhood thing. Jenna is my friend, too. And I know she’s not going to any tea this afternoon. Call you later, okay?” And he hung up.

  “So?” Tinker asked as she brushed her silvery hair away from her face. “Is he steamed or what?”

  “He’s steamed. And he says he’s going to ask Jenna to go canoeing instead of me.”

  Tinker put down the brush. “Oh. Well, they’re just friends, Maxie. Wipe that I’ve-just-been-stabbed-in-the-back look off your face. It’s just a canoe ride. C’mon, I promised Erica we’d help put those little cucumber sandwiches together before the parental pack arrives.”

  “I hate cucumbers,” Maxie groused. But she slipped into a pair of black flats and followed Tinker downstairs to the kitchen.

  Where, as it turned out, they weren’t needed. Erica, nervous over the impending arrival of the moms, had summoned a caterer. White uniforms had taken over the kitchen.

  Deciding there was no point in hanging around and getting in the way, Maxie grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry and wandered out into the backyard to sit on the low brick wall around the now-empty fountain.

  Maxie had only been sitting there a few minutes when half a dozen other Omegas came outside, led by Cath Devon, Candie, and Erica.

  “What a pretty yard!” Cath declared, glancing around admiringly. “Nothing like at Nightmare Hall, that’s for sure. There must be a gardener, right?”

  Maxie nodded and made a face. “Tom Tuttle. Cranky old guy. I’d be perfectly happy to send him off to Nightmare Hall. Gives me the creeps. A couple of the girls have caught him looking in the windows. He always says he’s ‘washing’ them. We must have the cleanest windows in town.”

  Several other girls joined them then, all dressed in skirts or dresses for the upcoming tea.

  “Hey, Candie, guess who called a few minutes ago?” a girl named Chloe called as she approached the fountain.

  “Who?”

  “Your not-so-secret admirer, Graham Lucas.”

  Candie groaned. Graham Lucas was a sophomore, not bad-looking, but far too needy and clinging for Candie’s tastes. Unfortunately, Candie was to his taste, and although she’d told him more than once that she already had a boyfriend, he’d been making a pest of himself lately, calling and sending notes and flowers to the house. Everyone in the house knew what a total pain he was to Candie.

  “What did you tell him?” Candie asked as the girls took seats on the fountain wall.

  Chloe laughed. “I told him you’d been kidnapped by aliens and hadn’t been seen for days.”

  The others laughed, but Candie frowned. “He didn’t laugh, did he?”

  Chloe’s smile disappeared. “No. He didn’t. He mumbled something nasty and hung up.”

  “The guy was born without a sense of humor,” Candie said. And then, firmly, “And I don’t want to talk about him anymore. Too depressing. If he keeps it up, I’m going straight to security and complain. Now, about my mother, who is even as I speak on her way here … ”

  She spent the next fifteen minutes telling them stories about her mother’s days at Omega house, ending with a warning. “That’s all she’s going to talk about, so you’ll just have to put up with it,” she said, adding anxiously, “Does my hair look okay? That’s the first thing she’ll notice.”

  Although everyone assured her that her hair looked “just fine,” Candie sat there a few more minutes and then, too restless to sit still, went back inside to “do something about this hair.”

  Half an hour later, Maxie went inside and was heading for the living room when the front door burst open and a tall, thin woman in a full-length fur coat, her bright red hair cut very short, cried, “Darlings! We’re here! Oh, it’s grand to be home! Now, where is my darling Candie?”

  Definitely; Maxie thought, a woman who would name a baby “Candie Barr.”

  Tinker came down the stairs just then. She and Maxie exchanged an amused glance. Although the hair was different, the face was definitely the same face that graced many photos hanging in the upstairs hall. This was Allison Barre, former president of Omega Phi Delta, and mother of Candie.

  Following Allison Barre into the house were half a dozen other mothers, including Erica’s mother, Joan Bingham. Tall, like her daughter, but thinner, she had graying hair and walked with a slight limp.

  As the other mothers filed in and greeted their daughters, Maxie ran upstairs to get Candie. “Your mom’s here,” she said in the open doorway to Candie’s room.

  Candie turned away from the mirror. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright. “I know. I heard her. Who didn’t? I’m surprised Jenna didn’t call you from Lester and say, ‘So, Candie’s mom arrived okay.’ ”

  Maxie laughed. “She’s a powerhouse, all right. You’d better get downstairs.”

  “I can’t do a thing with my hair,” Candie wailed. “She’ll hate it, I know she will! She’ll insist on sending Tia Maria to see me. That’s her hairdresser. Tia Maria!” Candie made a face. “The woman’s real name is Gert Tolan. I guess she didn’t think that was fancy enough for a beautician with a high-priced clientele.” She looked into the mirror and wailed again. “My mother’s going to hate my hair!”

  “No, she’s not. It looks great.” Maxie grinned. “Wait till you see hers.”

  Relaxing a little, Candie returned the grin. “What color is it this time?”

  “Red. Very, very red.”

  “Interesting.” As they left the room, Candie said urgently, “Listen, don’t say anything to my mom about Erica’s jewelry box, okay? I’m not sure how she’d react, but I promise you it wouldn’t be good. To hear her tell it, nothing bad ever happened when she was here. Every moment was a golden one, every day a joy, every night an adventure.” Candie sighed. “I don’t think she’s ever been as happy as she was then.” Then she grinned again. “Me, I’m still waiting for the adventurous nights.”

  “Darling!” her mother shrieked as Candie reached the foot of the stairs, with Maxie right behind her. “What have you done with your hair? It’s much too long, sweetie.” She whirled in front of Candie. “How do you like mine? Isn’t it smashing? Two hundred dollars, and worth every penny of it, don’t you think? Listen, I can have Tia Maria call you if you’d like. I’m sure she could make a side trip over here and do yours. Just tip her heavily, darling.” Her words came out at machine-gun speed, as if she had no need to take a breath.

  Tinker joined Maxie at the foot of the stairs as Allison Barre took her daughter’s hand and, still raving about the miracles worked by her hairdresser, led her away. “I can’t believe she’s anybody’s mother,” Tinker whispered to Maxie. “Except for the hair, they look like sisters, don’t they? But Allison is so …so ….”

  “So. Period,” Maxie agreed. “Can you imagine growing up with that? No milk and cookies there, I’ll bet. Caviar and Perrier, probably. No wonder Mrs. Barre is divorced. What man could live with her?”

  Erica suggested they all gather in the living room to “become acquainted” before eating.

  Maxie sat with Tinker and her mother, watching the other mothers and wondering, Is this what we’re going to be like twenty years from now? Like Candie’s mother, vibrant and overpowering? Or like Erica’s mother, also a past president? Tall and slim and smartly dressed, Joan Bingham seemed to have nothing good to say about anything. Erica
flushed repeatedly as her mother criticized the color of the wall paint, the upholstery on the furniture, and Erica’s clothes and hair.

  Maxie felt sorrier for Erica than she did for Candie. Candie’s mother might be hard to live up to, but at least she seemed like fun. Joan Bingham was no day at the beach.

  It was a relief when Erica suggested a walk on the grounds.

  When they had all gone outside, Maxie, who found herself suddenly missing her own mother, went into the kitchen to see if Mildred needed any help.

  The kitchen was empty. Dishes, silverware, and napkins had been set out on the counter, ready to be taken into the dining room, but Mildred was nowhere to be seen.

  Deciding to get a Coke and join the others outside, Maxie yanked open the door of the huge white refrigerator.

  And was greeted by an overpowering stench that took her breath away.

  Gasping, she stared at the white shelves in front of her.

  Instead of the plastic-covered trays of prepared food she had been expecting to see, every shelf was filled to overflowing with rotting fruits and vegetables, broken eggshells, wet coffee grounds, crumpled plastic bags and soda bottles, and the bony carcasses of several large chickens or turkeys.

  Maxie’s mouth dropped open. “Uh ….” was all she could manage. The putrid smell made her eyes water, but her arm felt frozen in place, preventing her from slamming the refrigerator shut upon the foul mess.

  Someone had replaced their perfectly arranged, plastic-covered party trays with a mountain of foul-smelling garbage.

  Chapter 4

  MAXIE STARED IN HORROR at the disgusting mess overflowing on the refrigerator shelves. When, one hand pinching her nostrils closed against the smell, she leaned closer, she saw no sign of the neatly wrapped trays for the tea. They had disappeared.

  She sagged against the refrigerator door.

  “Maxie, close that door! You’re wasting electricity,” Erica’s voice said from behind Maxie’s shoulder.

 

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