Secret Sisters

by Joy Callaway

  She peeled the gloves from her hands and set them on her lap. “And as far as worrying about being found out? I’m not. I’ve been caught before, see.” She grinned. “It’s like I told you, Beth. There’s power in playing into who men think you should be.”

  “So you’re saying you talked yourself out of being arrested? Katherine, you really should have been honest with us about the nature of . . . of your dealings.” I took in the sea of crates once more, stunned that we’d chosen to absorb a bootlegger into our fraternity.

  “I was honest,” she spat. “No one asked about my family. I would have gladly volunteered the information. I trust all of you. And, I didn’t say I had to talk myself out of anything. Each time I’ve been caught, I’ve been in the possession of at least twenty gallons of rye. All I have to do is bat my eyes, get real close to them, and say that I hadn’t any idea of the contents, that my husband forced me to deliver the packages and doesn’t take well to my asking questions. They assume that I’m beautiful but dense and let me go—after asking who my husband is, of course, but I refuse to say.”

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. We didn’t ask,” I sighed, choosing not to point out that her playing into stereotypes wouldn’t do much to change them or that most of the suffrage movement agreed that liquor was inadvertently the cause of many wives’ oppression and abuse. I didn’t feel up to arguing. “Is there anything else we should know?”

  “All right, Beth—I suppose I’ll just tell you everything.” She shivered as a cool draft wavered over us. “Chicago is our most profitable market, and because the cities are rampant with agents, we needed someone on the outskirts to run the distribution, to make sure it gets to our buyers. James was supposed to be the one to do it, but at the last minute, he decided that he didn’t want to be a part of the family business—at least not right now. He wants to be a lawyer instead.”

  I stifled a laugh. An illegal bootlegger turned servant of the law.

  “Daddy wasn’t too happy about it, so I offered to help so that James could concentrate on his studies. I figured I could enroll and learn a thing or two about bookkeeping while I was here. Mama was scandalized when Daddy agreed, but she couldn’t really do anything about it,” she said, shrugging. “That’s why James will pursue Iota Gamma if I ask him. He owes me.”

  “Hopefully he won’t have to. I’ve got an appointment with the board this Tuesday,” I said. “But, what about you? You aren’t interested in an education, in a career at all besides keeping your father’s books?” Her whole situation confounded me. Katherine laughed.

  “Of course I am. That’s why I’m doing this. I’d like Daddy to realize that he doesn’t need James. I could run the distillery. The only problem is that he’s determined to ship me off to Virginia to marry a widower, Rob Lee Junior—son of the general, you know?”

  “Really?”

  My face must’ve shown my alarm because Katherine shook her head.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about him, but the general was a wonderful man.” She drew a deep breath. “I don’t love Rob, and last I heard, he was sweet on a girl from Louisiana, some relation of John Burnside, the sugar tycoon. But if Daddy agrees to give him my hand, that won’t matter. His wife, Charlotte, passed on eight years ago, and his sisters are keen to see him settled with an appropriate wife.” The inner workings of the upper class were altogether foreign to me. Her story brought to mind that of Grant’s parents. I couldn’t imagine a marriage arranged for advantage, though I suppose that had been my father’s goal in pushing me toward the Buchannans’ circle. “I spent so much of my time as a young debutante with George, that many of the men I could have loved had married by the time I found that George had become involved with another woman back home.”

  “I’m sorry he hurt you,” I said.

  She shrugged again.

  “He told me that he was getting married directly after we’d been intimate. I was still dressing when he told me. I cried for an entire afternoon and then swore I’d never let him ruin another hour of my life. All that to say that marrying Rob wouldn’t be such a horrible fate. I’d have the means to do whatever I wanted.”

  “Except to pursue a career. I doubt that this Rob fellow would think too highly of a business woman.”

  “Oh to be sure. He’d not have it, but if I can’t run Daddy’s operations, I don’t think I’d care to run another. I wouldn’t have the passion for it. I could still continue my education—read, travel, employ instructors on whatever subject I chose.” She stood and cleared her throat. “So, I suppose if this doesn’t work out, I’d like to marry rich, at least. But enough of that.”

  I tried to wrap my mind around a single-focused ambition, but couldn’t. If she really did have the drive to run her father’s company, then she’d surely have trouble sitting idly in a mansion somewhere. I couldn’t picture her lounging on the white-pillared porch of one of those Southern plantation homes I’d heard so much about. As much as she thought she’d be able to do whatever she wanted, I doubted her optimism.

  I heard footsteps echoing in the hallway. Katherine swung herself into the hallway as though she could somehow stop Mary or Lily from coming in and seeing that our chapter room had been transformed into a warehouse.

  “Oh. Glad to see you, Katherine,” I heard Mary say before she appeared in the doorway. “The strangest thing just happened. I was crossing campus and a young man came running through the arch. He was handsome, blond, with the most captivating eyes. Anyway, he asked me if I knew you and gave me this letter.”

  “My brother,” Katherine muttered, scanning the letter as she spoke.

  “What in the world does it mean?” Mary asked, a smile in her voice as she read over Katherine’s shoulder. “‘The cart’s been overturned and needs repairs. It’s in the care of Stephen Marshall and will be finished at 1:30 in the morning’?”

  Suddenly, a gust of wind smacked the door against a box, clanking the bottles. Mary gasped.

  “What it means is that my daddy’s driver has been arrested and a new one, by the name of Stephen Marshall, will be here to pick up the rye at 1:30 tomorrow morning,” Katherine said matter-of-factly. “My family deals in Kentucky rye.”

  Mary started laughing and lifted the black blusher over her brimless cap to survey the room as she squeezed herself in.

  “My goodness. Can we have some?”

  “What in heaven’s name is going on?” I heard Lily’s voice come from behind Mary and Katherine and felt my heart skip. Mary may have accepted Katherine’s scandalous dealings without issue, but Lily absolutely would not.

  “Katherine’s a bootlegger,” Mary said without turning to face her. “How many gallons do we have here, Katherine?”

  “Two hundred,” Katherine said, swiveling to face Lily, whose hazel eyes were narrowed, the dark bags beneath them making her irises look almost luminous.

  “A bootlegger?”

  Pushing past Katherine and Mary, she took her hand to her chest, fingers nervously prodding the maroon stitching lining her gray wool jacket as she took in the sea of boxes. Her arm dropped suddenly, hand smacking against mine, but she didn’t bother to acknowledge me. “Beth was right to question our letting you in,” she said, as if speaking of me in absence. “You’ll get rid of these immediately.”

  Katherine looked at me as though my word was the deciding one.

  “It’ll draw more attention to have them removed now than to wait until Katherine’s driver arrives,” I said, knowing how little my opinion currently meant. I felt Lily’s eyes on my face, but didn’t look up to meet them. “Look at all of these crates. It would be noticeable.”

  “It would,” Katherine said.

  A faraway drip from a leak in the stones echoed over us as we waited for Lily to speak, but she didn’t. Instead she pushed past Katherine and Mary and stood in the hallway with her arms clasped across her chest.

  “Speaking of drawing attention,” Mary said to me, nudging my arm. “The prevailing Beta Xi
Beta rumor is that you kissed Mr. Richardson.”

  “I suppose I did, but—” I tried to say that I’d tell her about it later, but Mary laughed, interrupting.

  “How scandalous,” she said. “Good for you. He’s beautiful . . . even if his views are inexcusable.”

  “And she’s been in his company again this morning,” Katherine pointed out.

  “Not intentionally,” I said quickly. “I was up early and had gone to speak to Will about—”

  “I’m sorry.” Lily’s voice startled me, cutting through mine. “You didn’t deserve my anger. I wanted to hear that Will was different with me, that you could see the man he’d been before Miss Cable broke his heart when we were together. The whole night, I thought he was interested in me, but he wasn’t. I felt like a fool.”

  “You don’t know that.” I squeezed past Mary and stood in front of her. Lily looked like she hadn’t slept either. Her pale skin was nearly gray with fatigue and her typically tidy hair was pulled into a cockeyed bun at the top of her head. “I told you. It was his idea. He wanted to ask you.”

  “He had to save me from the advances of an old man,” she whispered. “I can’t believe I thought he’d want anything to do with me.”

  I clutched both of her shoulders.

  “Look at me,” I said. She complied, lips pressing together as though nothing I could say would change her mind on the matter. “Professor Helms’s perversion is not your fault. Will would never think less of you for it . . . no decent man would.”

  “I appreciate it, Beth, but I meant what I said last night. He loves you,” she whispered, before stepping around me. “But this isn’t what we came here to discuss. Gather around. I’ll retrieve the robes.”

  Katherine plucked a box from the floor and set it on top of another and Mary did the same, giving us little more than a ten-foot square to congregate. Lily stretched across the crates, attempting to reach our robes beneath the desk, but couldn’t. “We’ll have to conduct this meeting without proper dress, I suppose. We have a few things to celebrate thanks to our president.” Lily winked at me. “First of all, after last night, Professor Helms will no longer be a problem. It seems that Beth’s new beau has a valiant side . . . as does Will.”

  “He’s not my—”

  “How pleasantly surprising to find men of honor,” Katherine chimed in, cutting off my protest. “I’ll agree that Mr. Buchannan is kind.”

  Mary coughed. Katherine hardly knew Will. Their connection had only been physical. At once I felt the burn of Will’s hand on my shoulder, resenting the way Lily’s insistence that he loved me kept worming its way into my mind.

  “President Wilson was kind enough to grant me an appointment with the board on Tuesday,” I said, diverting the subject.

  “I knew it. I kept watching the two of you and he smiled quite a bit for a man who’d declined,” Mary said.

  I snorted.

  “His smiling was an act. He didn’t let me propose the idea and he’s not in favor of anything remotely progressive. He made that clear when he mentioned he’d voted against admitting me because of my major. In any case, we have the appointment.”

  “What does that mean for the rest of us?” Katherine asked. “How can we help?”

  “It’s up to you, really,” I said, sinking down onto a crate. “We can go together, but as you know, the idea will be immediately shut down if they think we’ve already organized. Not to mention, there could be repercussions.”

  “I think you’re right,” Mary said. “You should go alone. It was your idea to start Beta Xi Beta anyway.”

  Katherine nodded and I glanced around Mary to find Lily.

  “I agree with Mary,” she said.

  “All right then. I suppose I’ve only got a few days to prepare, and I’ll—”

  “Wait,” Lily said. She drummed her fingers along her knee. “The board room is an open forum. If there are enough people, we’d have no problem blending in without seeming as though we’re there for a reason.”

  “Have you ever gone?” Mary asked. “I have. There’s always a lot of debate about the music curriculum, students vying for and against the instruction of contemporary pieces, so the professors force us to go. There are never more than three people there unless they have to be—”

  “Even so, at least one of us should go in support of Beth,” Katherine interrupted. “Why don’t you plan to attend, Lily? Mary and I could wait outside for your word. We’ll come if there are enough people for us to blend in.”

  “There will be,” Mary said suddenly. “I have an idea. If the male students think that a proposal is going up to make the campus dry, they’ll revolt, they’ll be there. There’s nothing our classmates are more passionate about.” She turned to Katherine. “Thanks for the inspiration, my dear.”

  “And how will you arrange it? With a rumor like that flying around, someone will inevitably ask President Wilson and he’ll dispute it,” Lily said.

  “Not if there isn’t time,” Mary said, grinning. “Plan to tell everyone you know beginning Monday at five o’clock. The minute President Wilson retires, I’ll find the King of Gossips, Mr. Samuel Stephens, and let the rumor slip. The board room will be packed.”

  My stomach flipped at the notion of presenting to a room crowded full of students who’d find the idea of a women’s fraternity disreputable.

  “Do we want that?” I said, swallowing to relieve the dryness in my throat. “All of campus will know about our proposal to start a women’s fraternity. We’ll be asking for ridicule. Though, I suppose it will really only be me.”

  “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my mother, harassment is a complement to change,” Mary said.

  “It’s not as though any of us are avoiding it now,” Katherine said.

  “If we fail, I think we should be ready to ask James to help us,” I said.

  “We won’t need to ask him,” Katherine said. “He’ll do as I say.”

  “That’s all well and good,” Lily said. “But we won’t fail. Beth won’t let that happen, will you?” Her eyes met mine, and as I shook my head, I wished I was as convinced as she was.

  12

  I could hear them before I could see them. I stepped through the front doors of Old Main and paused for a moment in the sunlight beaming through the windows. It was a beautiful day, warm for late January, and the distant chatter of a large crowd made it all the better. Even so, I was nervous. Though my efforts could better the lives of Whitsitt girls forever, they could dissolve Beta Xi Beta just as easily.

  “Are you certain you want to go down there? There’s a mob this morning . . . for some reason,” Miss Bradley said, looking over her wire-rimmed glasses at me as I walked down the corridor toward the board room.

  “Thank you for the warning,” I stuttered.

  “I can’t figure it for the life of me,” she called. “It’s only you and Professor Helms’s student assistant on the docket today—though he says he can’t locate the professor anywhere.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. Apparently Professor Helms had decided to disappear rather than tell President Wilson he was leaving.

  “There’s a rumor going around that someone is going to propose the campus go dry,” I said, finally finding my voice. “Perhaps that’s the reason for the crowd this morning.”

  “Oh goodness, no,” Miss Bradley said. Her hand flew to her neck, palm flattening on her out-of-fashion vulcanite brooch. “How long has this rumor been circulating? The men will revolt without their glass of brandy during study hours. And what about our dinnertime wine? Do I need to send for Mr. Stanley?” Mr. Stanley was the janitor. Standing well over seven feet tall, he’d been a champion boxer in Cuba before making his way to the United States—or so it was said. His mere presence had the power to scatter a fight. I’d seen it happen.

  “Only since yesterday,” I called to her as I turned into the main hallway, and nearly fainted on the spot. The hall was jammed with students, encouraging the pungen
t odor of body sweat to prevail over the ordinary scent of cleaning vinegar and wood smoke. I pushed my way through the heavy swarm of wool morning coats and pulled the high neck of my velvet dress, hoping to relieve some of the heat. I didn’t see Mary, Lily, or Katherine, who’d gone down to the dining hall to eat breakfast without me since I couldn’t bear the thought of food, but I hoped they were somewhere in the throng.

  “Beth.” A hand brushed my shoulder and I turned to find Grant. I hadn’t seen him since Saturday morning after the ball. The memory of what he’d said about us, about a future together, filtered through my mind, but I forced myself to forget it. I couldn’t think about it. Not now.

  “How are you?” I asked, avoiding his eyes by scanning the crowd over his shoulder.

  “Absolutely terrible,” he said, and I looked at him, wondering what had happened. He smiled. “It seems like I haven’t seen you for a week.” His lips kept moving, but I couldn’t hear him over the boom of a chant coming from behind me.

  “I can’t hear you,” I yelled.

  “We are the majority! We will prevail! It is our right!” Grant rolled his eyes and the crowd parted for President Wilson as he made his way down the hallway. The swarm pushed forward suddenly, sending me careening into Grant. He caught me, holding me for a moment longer than was necessary as students funneled into the small board room.

  “Has something changed?” he asked. I barely heard him over the roar of voices and the whirring of my heart in my temples. Perhaps our idea had been a stupid one. There were now too many people. My hand lifted to the wreath pin against my heart. I promise that above all else, my purpose will be to foster equality and intellect among women. The words of our pledge rang in my mind. I had to do this. I owed it to the women who would come after me, the women whose intellectual pursuits dared to deviate from the divinity school.

  “Beth?” Grant’s hand caught mine and I startled.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “No. I’m just . . . I’m nervous.”