by Lisa Patton
TWELVE
WILDA
How many times have I made this drive to Oxford? Two hundred? Three hundred? The only thing different from when Haynes and I were in school is Highway 78. Back then passing was nearly impossible. Widening the road from two to four lanes has cut the drive down by twenty minutes. I have no doubt that decision has saved the lives of many college kids.
I while away my time following up on phone calls and catching up on worry. About the boys and their jobs. And the possibility of Ellie getting cut from Rush. I’m not the only mother who’s concerned. Stories of girls getting cut from Ole Miss Rush are legendary, and that’s a legitimate reason to fret.
Haynes’s concern is not about Ellie getting cut from Rush. It’s the abundance of wealth some of these girls come from. It’s not only Annie Laurie, there are plenty more. We get by fine—I’m not suggesting that we don’t—but we are certainly not wealthy. Ole Miss gives a significant discount to students from Memphis and the surrounding area. The tuition is not all that much more than the cost for in-state students. And after three kids, that’s a big relief.
Rush aside, the prevailing worry I’ve been obsessing over since Haynes left the house this morning is this grand mess I’ve gotten myself into. First and foremost: the lie. And second: how in the world I’ll ever pay Mama back. Both have the potential to turn into a panic attack at any moment. So I do what I always do: pull a Scarlett O’Hara and worry about something else. I pick … Lily. Well, Lilith, and the contrast between our families.
Back in June, she invited Ellie and me down to Natchez. When we saw their historic Greek Revival mansion, surrounded by azaleas and gardenias on several acres of land, it should have been my first clue: Haynes and I would be spending many more dollars on Ellie’s education than we ever dreamed.
An old patina bronze mermaid fountain with water spilling out of her tail, lily pads and white blossoms, along with koi in the pond beneath, greeted us when we pulled in the driveway. Probably one of the most spectacular pieces of art I’ve ever seen. The magnolias were as tall and wide as our house in Memphis and Ellie and I could smell their blooms the minute we got out of the car.
When we walked up to the columned front porch, where two planted antique urns, belonging in an antique-and-garden show, were set on either side of the front door, I think the two of us knew, right then and there, we were way out of our league. But the real kicker came when Rosetta, Lilith’s maid, greeted us at the door wearing a white uniform. I truly felt like I had stepped back in time.
Once we entered the foyer, Ellie and I both were mesmerized by their massive staircase, which rose to a landing with an enormous stained-glass window. There was even an old ballroom on the third floor, which Gage now uses as an office. Opulence aside, the weekend was lovely, and both Lilith and Annie Laurie were gracious hosts. Annie Laurie even gave Ellie a graduation gift—a terrycloth towel wrap and a set of bath towels, both monogrammed with her initials. The only thing remotely negative Ellie had to say on the ride home was about Annie Laurie’s hair. “She spends more time than you do, Mom. Why does she care so much?”
*
There is no traffic to speak of until I roll onto campus. Then I remember Haynes’s warning. It’s move-in day for most people. The move-in day without an up-charge. Finding a parking spot is downright stressful, but when I finally walk onto the porch of the Alpha Delta Beta House, a warm feeling grows inside and I’m breathless with joy. I am home. Some of the best friendships and memories of my life were made in this House.
As soon as I open the front door and breathe in the familiar scent, I’m transported back to a time when life wasn’t jaded—a four-year vacation, when I think about it. Happy, fun, and for the most part, effortless—notwithstanding tests and a minor heartache or two. Of course, I didn’t appreciate it at the time. Looking back now, I marvel at my naivety. The stress over tests and grades, even the decision to switch my major from History to Journalism all seems incredibly trivial now. Even the angst I felt on Pref, over whether to join Alpha Delt or Tri Delt, is equally mild in comparison.
Speaking of which, I truly don’t care which sorority Ellie ends up pledging as long as she’s happy, but I can’t help thinking about how special it would be if it were Alpha Delt. I could be here for her initiation and be the one to pin her, something I never experienced with Mama. Several of my sorority sisters were pinned by their mothers. I remember well my feeling of envy as I watched the ceremony. Mothers dressed in white robes, placing their own Alpha Delt pins over their daughter’s hearts.
When I step into the foyer, the dead quiet in the House is as jarring as clanging cymbals. It’s twelve thirty. Shouldn’t the clamor of lunchroom voices be resounding through the halls? The only person around is the Alpha Delt housekeeper, the one who’s been working here umpteen years. She’s pushing a dust mop across the hardwood in front of the winding staircase. An ear-to-ear smile is on her face—while she’s doing housework. I could learn a thing or two from this lady.
Waving her down, I hurry over. “Excuse me, I’m here for the Rush Workshop. Where is everybody?” My eyes scan the foyer and the adjacent dining room.
“Downstairs in the chapter room,” she says, with such kindness in her voice. She reminds me of Annie Mae, the lady who worked for our family while I was growing up. The one I considered my second mother—and sometimes my only mother, if truth be told. Sadly, she passed away five years ago.
“Already? I thought I was early.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s already started.”
“Well, darn.” After a quick glance at my watch I say, “I thought it started at one.”
“Uh-oh. I believe it started at noon. But don’t quote me on that. I could be wrong.”
“Uh-oh is right. I’m in big trouble.”
The sound of her laughter fills the empty foyer. I can’t help picturing Lilith. Something tells me she was right on time.
“I’m Wilda Woodcock, by the way. The new Rush Advisor.”
“Well welcome home, Miss Wilda. I’m Pearl.”
“Thank you. It’s good to be home. And nice to see you, Pearl.” When I reach out to hug her I notice her scent. “You sure smell good.”
“Why, thank you. It’s Ralph Lauren. One of my babies gave it to me.”
“Have you seen Lilith Whitmore? I’m supposed to meet her here.”
“Yes, ma’am. She’s down there.”
“Okay, let me run. Have a nice day, Pearl.”
“You, too, Miss Wilda. Good to see you.”
What a nice lady, I think. Attractive, too.
I hurry downstairs to the basement. The chapter room door is shut. Tight. The sight of that ominous entryway transports me back in time when I was late—always late—to Monday night chapter meetings. That same hot flash I felt back then courses through me now as I turn the doorknob and quietly inch my way into the back of the room and grab an empty seat against the wall.
A young lady, whom I presume to be the Rush Chairman, is speaking to the girls about their top rushees. Actually she’s calling them potential new members. I suppose I’ll have to pick up the lingo if I’m to be a good advisor.
Rush Workshop meetings have not changed all that much. There’s still a large screen and photos of the PNMs are projected with their names and hometowns off to the side. Each member is required to learn their faces, where the girls are from, and something about each of them. That’s so every girl will be recognized the moment she enters the House and graced with familiar conversation. I glance around and each collegian is holding a bundle of papers with what appears to be additional information on each rushee.
When she sees me, Lilith, who is seated across the room, creeps over and hands me a bundle so I, too, can follow along with the slide show, PowerPoint, or whatever they call it now. She’s wearing her ADB pin. The old-fashioned kind with the little gold chain hanging from a tiny gold quill—on top of her left bosom, over her heart. I’m sure it belonged to her mother.
But no one else is wearing one. They’re supposed to be worn for formal occasions only.
The meeting goes on for a long time with comments about each girl, kind and not so kind. I hadn’t anticipated this. When they discuss Ellie will I be asked to leave the room? Maybe they’ve already discussed her and it’s a good thing I’m late. It looks like more than three hundred girls are here today, all with opinions about my daughter. I’m jittery just thinking about it.
On the other side of the room, closer to Lilith, I notice the other Rush Advisors. Right away I recognize Sallie. She was funny and well liked—only a year ahead of me. I’m looking forward to working with her. Presumably the other lady is Gwen. She looks much younger than me—by at least twenty-five years. I’m happy to know they’re here. I’d hate to be the only one making critical decisions.
While looking around, I notice the room is littered with half-eaten sandwiches, chips, apple cores, and Coke cans. When I spy a tray of leftover sandwiches in the corner, my stomach responds with a loud, embarrassing growl. I’m starving and all I can think about is getting my hands on one of those sandwiches.
Should I take one? Why not? I finally decide, but the second I start to stand Annie Laurie’s picture pops onto the screen. Lilith jumps up before the Rush Chairman, Lizzie Jennings—I’ve now learned her name—has a chance to speak.
“Okay, y’all, I have to tell you what Annie Laurie and I talked about yesterday,” Lilith begins in a booming voice. “I’ve told her there’s no way she can pledge any other sorority. But, like any mother, I do want her to have a good Rush. She’s got dozens of rec letters to all the other houses, but I don’t want anyone to be alarmed.” She pauses, scanning the faces of every girl to make sure they’re listening. “She wants to be an Alpha Delt.”
Now I’m the one scanning the girls’ faces. Some of them have obligatory grins. Others have sneers. Because what Lilith just did is so very awkward. Honestly, my toes are curling in my sandals.
One girl seated near me leans toward another and whispers, “She’s acting like she’s in charge of whom we choose and she’s so not.” Then the other girl whispers back, “She’s not a Rush Advisor anymore. Why’s she down here?” They both look at each other and shrug.
Then, as if she’s overheard their comment from across the room, Lilith adds, “Oh, by the way, I want to introduce y’all to our new Rush Advisor. Stand up, Wilda.” She points at me, then flicks her right palm.
All the girls whip their heads around. I stand up and wave timidly.
“Meet Wilda Woodcock, everybody,” Lilith says. “Sallie and I were Alpha Delts with her a hundred years ago.” She laughs at her comment before continuing. “And her daughter, Ellie Woodcock—whom you all know by now—is Annie Laurie’s roommate. We can’t break those two up. So we have to show Ellie as much love as we do Annie Laurie.”
I am amazed by Lilith’s confidence. The way she tilts her head back and grins in a way that implies secret knowledge of anyone and everyone who’s fit to be an Alpha Delt. But her comments have embarrassed me to death. I wasn’t planning on mentioning Ellie. For goodness sakes, I would never assume she would get an automatic bid simply because I’m a Rush Advisor.
Before sitting down, I grab a lull in the conversation. “I’m really excited about getting to know you girls, and I want to help out in any way I can. Watching the love you have for one another has been really sweet. It reminds me of my pledge class and how close we all were.”
Most of the girls are smiling at me.
“I don’t want to take up much time, so I’ll end by saying: I come from a loyal Ole Miss family and this campus is one of our favorite places on earth. My husband and I met at Ole Miss, both of our sons went here, and now Ellie.” Before sitting down, in a bashful voice, I add, “And I hope you like her when you get to know her.”
“Hi, Mrs. Woodcock.” I look around and see Katherine Johnson, a sweet girl from Ellie’s high school track team who graduated the previous year.
“Well, hey, Katherine,” I say with a wave.
She smiles and waves back. “I can’t wait for everyone to meet Ellie. I’ve been telling them how great she is ever since I heard she was coming to Ole Miss.”
I blow her a kiss. It’s not the right time to make a big deal about it, but I vow to find her after the meeting and whisper my thanks.
Ellie’s future sorority life had taken over our summer at one point. Our dining room table was turned into an assembly line. Putting together what must have been one hundred Rush packets with her résumé, transcript, two color pictures, and a thank-you note—all in a glossy white binder—took hours and hours of our time. We had to secure recs for each of the thirteen sororities and on top of that, we had to find even more alums willing to write reference letters.
“Listen up,” Lilith blurts, even though it had appeared Lizzie had regained control of the meeting. “September fifth is the official cutoff date, but we’re bound to get in a few more recs after that. Let’s make sure we only consider girls who are truly Alpha Delt material. Trust me, I’ve seen recs from girls we’d rather not pledge. Also, we need to make darn sure all the PNMs we plan to Rush can afford Alpha Delta Beta.”
She’s right about that. Sorority life is not cheap. It costs somewhere around five thousand dollars per year and that doesn’t include all the Rush outfits, pictures, T-shirts, parties, etc. Fraternities are even higher. As crazy as it gets inside those Houses, someone has to pay the liability. Haynes nearly passed out when he got Jackson’s first Sigma Nu bill.
After several more announcements and admonishments from Lizzie and other officers, the meeting finally adjourns at five o’clock. “Pick up your trash,” Lizzie yells as a last minute reminder. But it’s too late. The girls have already filed out of the room and left most of it behind. Bless Miss Pearl’s heart. I’m sure it’s her problem now.
After finding Katherine to thank her for what she’s doing for Ellie, meeting Gwen, and giving Sallie a big hug, I head over to Martin. Lilith, whom I last saw talking with Selma James, the Alpha Delt president, made six o’clock reservations for all four of us at City Grocery. It can’t come soon enough, as my stomach won’t let me think of anything else besides dinner. After Lilith’s mortifying performance in the Rush meeting, though, I can’t help wondering how anyone can stomach her.
THIRTEEN
CALI
Later in the afternoon, once most of the parents have left and the hustle from move-in day has died down, I look up from arranging my clothes in the smallest closet in the universe to see a girl with a long blond ponytail in my doorway, wearing the friendliest smile I’ve seen all day. We had passed each other in the hall earlier so I recognize her right away. She has a spray of freckles across her nose, and I’m struck by how much we favor. Although my hair is red, we both have blue eyes, freckles, and similar turned-up noses.
“Hi there,” she says. “I’m Ellie. I live next door.” She points in the direction of her room.
I stand up and step toward her. “I’m Cali. Come on in.”
She steps inside and glances around. “Your room looks so nice. I love your comforter.” She walks over to my bed, runs her hand across the top. “Pink and gray are my favorite colors, too.” I see her eyes stop at Jasmine’s unmade bed and unpacked boxes. “Where’s your roommate?”
“She left with her boyfriend to walk around campus. I don’t think she’s in a big hurry to get her stuff unpacked.” I can’t help the nervous giggle that follows. It’s not that I care much that Jasmine is waiting to get settled, but I had hoped to see our room finished, like, before the sun goes down.
Ellie plops down on our futon. “I couldn’t wait to get unpacked.” I love that she seems to feel comfortable in my room.
“Where are you from?” I ask, sitting down next to her.
“Memphis. How ’bout you?”
“Blue Mountain.”
Her brows knit together. “I’m not sure I know where that is. Is it in Mississippi?”
I nod. “It’s a teeny-tiny town. Like, forty-five minutes north. Not many people know where it is.”
Something about Ellie is nice and genuine and I feel comfortable around her already. I have a strong sense we will be instant friends.
“Are you as excited to be here as I am?” I ask. “I’ve been, like, counting down the days all summer.”
“Oh my gosh. Totally. I’ve been waiting on this day for years.” She twists her ponytail into a bun on top of her head, secures it with her ponytail holder. “Are you gonna rush?”
“That’s my plan. What about you?”
“Yes!” When she smiles, I notice her dimples.
“Do you know which sorority you want?” I ask.
“Not really. My roommate’s mom and my mom were Alpha Delts together, like, way back when.” She pulls her legs up, sits cross-legged. “Anyway, her mother says she can’t pledge if she doesn’t choose Alpha Delt.” Ellie snickers when she says it.
My eyes grow wide.
“Right?”
“Yikes.” We both grimace at the same time.
“My mom doesn’t care which one I join. She just wants me to be happy.” She makes little quote marks when she says “happy.”
“Your mom sounds awesome.” What must that be like, I wonder.
“She is. My parents are, like, older than most of my friends’ parents, but they’re awesome.”
“I totally get that. I live with my grandparents, and—” I stop abruptly. Don’t go there. No need to overexplain. “So, what about you? Do you wanna be an Alpha Delt?”
She shakes her head, shrugs. “I don’t care all that much. I’m open. But I am getting a little freaked out about it. Some of the girls from my high school who are sophomores this year are, like, ‘Stay out of the Grove. Don’t go to bars. Don’t do anything that someone in a sorority might hold against you. Don’t even go to a fraternity house till Rush is over.’”
“Oh, wow, I had no idea. Thanks for telling me.” This information is super helpful. Any information about pledging a sorority is super helpful.