by Lisa Patton
SIXTY-THREE
CALI
Ellie will die when I tell her. I’m pretty sure she’s in class, but I text her anyway.
Me: OMG, Miss Pearl just quit.
Ellie: Wait, WHAT?
Me: Where are you?
Ellie: In class.
Me: Meet me at the House when you’re done.
Ellie: Be there in fifteen minutes.
I’m in the foyer waiting on her when she hurries in the front door. She’s out of breath from running the entire way from Lamar Hall to the House in ten minutes. For privacy we dash over to the side stairwell, and I fill her in on all the details. Once we’ve had a chance to think it through, we make a joint decision to beeline it to Selma James’s room. But when we get upstairs her door is locked. So we sit down and wait.
After twenty minutes Ellie decides to go downstairs to see if Selma is somewhere else in the House. While waiting, my mind drifts back to Miss Pearl. The way her face brightened when I told her about our pledge-class philanthropy project and how we wanted to change things. Then I think back to how forlorn she looked after telling me all the mean things Mrs. Whitmore said to her, and I get mad all over again. Joining Alpha Delta Beta sorority, with all the love among her beautiful sisterhood, has been the best thing that ever happened to me, but I never thought I’d encounter someone with the evil character of Lilith Whitmore.
The sound of Ellie’s text yanks me away from my thoughts. Found her. We’re in Mama Carla’s apartment. Hurry!
I grab both Ellie’s backpack and mine, sling them over both shoulders, and haul butt down the staircase. When I poke my head in the apartment, Selma is in tears. Mama Carla’s not crying, but it sure looks like she has been. She sees me and waves me in.
There are no chairs left, so I drop both of our backpacks on the floor and sit on my knees behind the coffee table.
“I’ve just started filling them in,” Ellie says.
“Miss Pearl called me fifteen minutes ago,” Mama Carla says. “She had just left the University employment office.”
“We can’t let her quit. Not when we’re this close to change.” I hold up my fingers an inch apart, to show how close we really are.
“Change?” Mama Carla asks. “What kind of change?” Selma shifts in her seat, then goes into all the details of our plan for staff benefits. When she’s done, Mama Carla presses a hand to her heart. “That’s the loveliest thing I’ve ever heard. When were you planning on telling the rest of the staff?”
“Next Monday before chapter meeting,” Selma says, then glances at Ellie. “Ellie’s dad has been a rock star. He’s put tons of time and research into this.”
“He’s a lawyer, right?” Mama Carla asks.
“Yes, ma’am.” Ellie’s playing with her hair the way she always does, twisting it up in a bun. “He’s always looked out for the little guy. Both my parents have. They’ve taught my brothers and me to carry the torch, I suppose.”
“Okay,” Selma says, moving to the edge of her chair. “I have a new plan. I’m calling an emergency chapter meeting. Tonight.”
We all look at one another. This is good news.
“I’ll get it sent out in News Now.” That’s our Alpha Delt weekly email blast. It informs us of everything from meal menus to date parties to philanthropy happenings. “Y’all spread the word and I’ll make an announcement at dinner. No one will be happy about this. We’ll put our heads together and come up with a way to get Miss Pearl back.”
“But what about Lilith Whitmore?” I ask.
Everyone’s eyes turn to Mama Carla.
She holds her hands up. “Don’t look at me. I’m just the lame duck House Director.” Then she laughs. “I’m only kidding. I’d do anything for Miss Pearl even if it means a faceoff with Lilith Shitmore.” Mama Carla covers her mouth. “Excuse me, girls, I couldn’t help myself.” All of our mouths hit the floor at the same time. We look at each other thinking the same thing, I’m sure. Mama Carla is the freaking bomb. Ellie whips her hand up first, then we all give Mama Carla, and each other, high fives.
“I’ll call my dad. He can’t stand Lilith Shitmore,” Ellie says. “Plus, he’ll give us great advice.”
“Oh my gosh,” Selma says, holding her cheeks. “As House Corp President she’ll get the email blast. I’ll have to find a way to remove her.”
Ellie glances at all of us, crossing her arms in front of her. “If not, we’ll just plant our security guard at the chapter room door.”
“Have you taken a good look at the poor man?” Mama Carla asks.
We all laugh.
“We might as well put him there,” Selma says. “It can’t hurt.”
“What about Annie Laurie?” I ask. Ever since our confrontation, she has been much nicer to me—and Ellie. She’s never said she was sorry to either of us, but I sense she feels terrible about everything. Every night before bed now she stops by my room with some sort of treat and offers to share it with Jasmine and me. Ellie says she does the same thing for her.
“She’s in a tough spot,” Selma answers, shaking her head slowly. “Choosing to go against her mother is not easy. But this is her chance to show us what she’s made of.” I think back to what I said to Annie Laurie a few nights ago: It’s hard to go against your mother. But you don’t have to be like her.
“Maybe my mom could drive down,” Ellie says.
Selma leans toward her. “That’s a great idea, Ellie. We need an advisor with us. Especially one who thinks like we do. Would you mind calling her?”
“Of course not. I’ll call her right away.”
“Everyone loves your mom.” Selma’s phone is resting on the coffee table. She leans over and checks the time. “Okay. It’s four fifteen now. You call your mom; I’ll get the email going. See y’all at dinner.”
SIXTY-FOUR
WILDA
“Mom! You have to get down to Oxford. Immediately!” Ellie’s voice is high-pitched and utterly frantic. There must have been an accident.
“Oh my God. Is someone dead?” I yell into my cell phone, which is carelessly tucked in the crook of my neck. Then, from sheer panic, I trip over Haynes’s muddy hunting boots while trying to get in the back door. Our Chinese takeout goes sprawling all over the floor, and as I’m falling down into the middle of it, my cell phone flies off my shoulder and lands in a pool of duck sauce. Frantically trying to reach it, I step on the egg foo yong and slip again. Now I’m lying in our dinner.
When the phone is back at my ear—covered in sticky goo—I hear Ellie yelling, “Mom. MOM. Are you there?”
“Yes, Ellie, I’m here! Who’s dead?”
“It’s Lilith Whitmore!”
“LILITH WHITMORE IS DEAD?” I scream. At the top of my lungs … Then I scramble up, panting like a pug.
“NO, MOM,” Ellie screams back. “She’s not dead. She made Miss Pearl quit!”
“Oh for gosh sakes, Heart. You scared the life out of me!” My heart feels like it’s speeding down the Daytona 500 racetrack.
“Sorry. Selma James called an emergency chapter meeting for tonight after dinner, and she really wants you here. We’re coming up with a plan to get Miss Pearl back and we need you. Leave right now.”
I take a look at our dinner, which Daisy is quite happy about, incidentally. Kung pao chicken is one of her favorites. “All right. I’ll be there. But I have to change my clothes first.”
“Why? Just come as you are. No one cares what you look like.”
“And show up smelling like Peking duck?”
“What are you talking about, Mom?” I can see her eyes rolling from here.
“Never mind. I’ll see you as soon as I can get there.”
So much for resigning from the Advisory Board—effective immediately.
SIXTY-FIVE
CALI
Time seemed to slow to a snail’s pace once I left Mama Carla’s apartment. It was like I was trapped inside a bad dream moving in slow-motion. I could hardly eat my dinner. All the ta
lk about Lilith Shitmore has my nerves bouncing around like I’m playing musical chairs. One minute I’m confident, then seconds later I’m bereft over losing Miss Pearl and the fate of my beloved sorority.
Now, sitting here in the chapter room, I’m reminded of how real this whole thing is. Our security guy is guarding the door. No joke; he really is out there. And he has a gun in his holster. I thought Selma was kidding, but apparently not. It was kind of funny to watch the looks on everyone’s faces when they walked past him, and then hear all the rumblings as to why he’s down here.
A glance at my phone shows six thirty. Mrs. Woodcock is on her way. It’s outright amazing to me that a mom would drop what she’s doing and drive all the way down to Oxford at a moment’s notice. Ellie and I are saving her a seat right next to us. The new members are required to sit in the back of the chapter room during meetings and from there it graduates to the front, according to year.
When the last girl has taken her seat, Selma stands before all of us on the slightly raised stage in the front of the room. As soon as she stands up a hush falls over the large crowd and everyone gives our president their undivided attention. As I look at Selma, wearing her Alpha Delt jersey and holding a microphone in her hand, I daydream about one day becoming president myself.
“So I’m sure you’ve all heard bits and pieces of what happened today with Miss Pearl,” she begins. “I want to give you all the details so there’s no misunderstanding this whatsoever.” She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, glances up at the ceiling, then breathes deeply.
Mrs. Woodcock opens the chapter room door and Ellie waves her over. She slides in next to us, then waves at Selma, who smiles and waves back.
“In a nutshell,” Selma continues, “Miss Pearl went to Lilith Whitmore on two separate occasions to apply for our House Director position. I’m sure everyone has heard by now that Mama Carla is leaving to be with her daughter and grandchildren, right?” She scans the crowd, looking for nods. “Okay, just checking.”
“If you don’t already know, Lilith Whitmore is our House Corp President. That means she’s the Alpha Delt alum in charge of everything that has to do with the operation of this House, including the hiring and firing of the House Director.” She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Our Alpha Delt bylaws state that the House Director is required to have a college degree. And because Miss Pearl doesn’t have one, Lilith Whitmore told her she’s not eligible for the job.”
Groans are heard from many of the girls. About sixty people raise their hands.
“Oh gosh, I’m sure y’all have lots of questions, but please wait till I’m finished. There’ll be plenty of time for that.” She takes a step back and rests her butt against the long table behind her. “Most everyone knows this, but in case you don’t, this whole thing is much more complicated because Annie Laurie Whitmore is one of our new pledge sisters, and Lilith is her mom.”
Now everyone is perfectly silent. But necks are craning around the room looking for Annie Laurie.
“I gave Annie Laurie the option of attending tonight, but we mutually decided it was better that she sit this one out.”
Since Ellie and I are seated in the back with our pledge sisters I can see several of the older girls whispering to one another.
“I’m betting most of you are wondering if we can bend the college-degree rule for Miss Pearl? The answer is yes and no. First, we’d have to change the bylaws, and second, Lilith Whitmore is the one who’d have to approve it. So as you can see, we are in a bit of a mess.”
A loud chorus of voices fills the room.
“Hang on. Listen up,” Selma says, raising her voice over the chatter. Once everyone quiets back down, she continues. “The really hard part here is Miss Pearl feels like Lilith Whitmore made her decision based on race.”
A cacophony of moans and groans fills the room again, this time even louder, and I’m afraid chaos will ensue.
“Wait, y’all, please listen,” she says into the mic with a commanding voice. “Please keep your voices down. This is hard enough.” Now she waits till everyone is dead quiet. “Since Miss Pearl has been here twenty-five years and pretty much runs the joint, she feels like she should have the job. And to be honest, so do I. But it’s not my decision. So I’ve called us all here to get a general consensus of what everyone thinks.”
Most every girl in the room is frantically raising her hand.
Selma grabs the sides of her head and makes a crazy face. “Yikes. Okay, one at a time, please.” She looks out at the crowd of over four hundred and points to a girl I don’t know on the front row. “Yes, Priestley, what’s your question?”
Selma hands Priestley another microphone from the table. “Is Lilith Whitmore the only one making the decision? Aren’t there other alums on the Board who have a vote?”
“Yes. We have two boards. House Corp Board and Advisory Board. This situation falls under the House Corp Board, but the other eight ladies who serve on it live all over the state. They only meet once a year. To be perfectly honest, Mrs. Whitmore pretty much does what she wants, and doesn’t ask for anyone’s permission. Unfortunately for us, she seems hell-bent on keeping the college-degree rule the way it is.”
Selma points at another girl I don’t know. “Virginia.”
Priestley passes Virginia the microphone and she stands up. She turns around so all of us new members in the back can see her face. “For all you pledges that haven’t met me yet, I’m Virginia Kay. I’m a senior this year. To me”—she takes a deep breath and places a hand on her heart—“Miss Pearl seems like the housemother anyway. I love Mama Carla, don’t get me wrong, but Miss Pearl does just as much as she does around here. She’s classy and smart and from what I understand, she has a year of college already. She’s going back to get her degree.”
“That’s actually what I was going to tell y’all next,” Selma says. “So thanks for mentioning that, Virginia.”
Virginia adds, “I, for one, would love to see her be our next housemother. Thank you.” She sits back down.
“Miss Pearl is planning on going back to school next semester,” Selma says. “She made that decision after she filled in here for Mama Carla.” Selma points to a girl in the middle and Virginia passes her the mic. “Huxley?”
Huxley stands up. “What’s with the security guard?” Everyone laughs.
“So, Lilith Whitmore is not happy about what we’re doing. I felt like it was appropriate. Y’all will just have to trust me on this,” Selma says.
Mrs. Woodcock’s forehead crinkles. Then I see her slowly turn her head toward Ellie like she’s been told a snake is loose somewhere in the house.
Anne Florence, a girl in our pledge class, raises her hand.
“Hang on, Anne Flo.” Selma asks Huxley to please pass her the mic.
When it’s in her hand Anne Florence says, “Is Mrs. Whitmore’s problem that there are no other black housemothers on campus?”
Selma twists her mouth out of shape. “I suppose that’s part of her hesitancy. I don’t know that for sure, but I’d say, yes, that’s part of it.”
“That needs to change,” someone yells.
“Why would we care?” another girl stands up and says. “She treats us like her own children anyway.”
Tons of duhs, yeses, and Amens are circulating throughout the room when Selma stands up on her tiptoes. “Hang on, everybody. We need to take a vote. Since this is impromptu I haven’t had a chance to make up a ballot or anything, so let’s do this.” She glances around the room. “I need paper. Can someone please go to the copy machine and get a ream of paper and all the pens we have.”
Lizzie Jennings stands up. “I’ll go, Selma.” Then she heads out the door.
Selma continues. “I think it’s best to take a vote—a private vote—to see where we all stand. To Anne Florence’s point, having an African American House Director would be new for Ole Miss, so I want to make sure everyone here is okay with it. I’m not saying we nee
d every girl to vote yes for Miss Pearl to get the job, but we do need a vast majority.”
Suddenly, another senior from the front row stands up and turns around to face us. Selma hands her the spare mic. “This is a tough subject to talk about, y’all. I’m not trying to be mean, but … I’m not convinced Miss Pearl is the right person for the job.” All eyes are on her as she glances around the room, as if looking for someone else to agree with her. “Maybe I’m the only one brave enough to stand up, but I know others here who feel the same way I do.” She keeps looking around, but it seems everyone in the room is frozen to their chairs. “Miss Pearl’s a really nice person, and I love her to death, but I just think we should be dead sure it’s the direction we want to take.” As quickly as she got up, she plops down in her seat and crosses her arms over her chest.
Now the room is dead quiet. Unshaken, our fearless leader nods directly at the girl before commenting. “Thank you for standing up, Brooke. Every Alpha Delt here is entitled to her opinion. Let me just make sure I understand exactly what you mean. Are you saying you aren’t sure Miss Pearl should get the job because she’s unqualified or because she’s black?”
Brooke keeps her seat when she answers. “I’m saying we are a ninety-nine-point-nine percent white sorority. Yes, we have Alberta as a black member and I’m so glad we do, but since the rest of us are white I think we should have a white housemother. Sorry, but that’s how I feel.” Never directly answering Selma’s question, Brooke turns to the senior sitting on her right and shrugs before passing back the mic.
Selma reaches her hand toward the rest of us. “Is there anyone else here in agreement with Brooke who’s willing to share her opinion?”
No one says a word.