by Lisa Patton
“That’s nice of you, Lilith, but we’re all dead tired.” Sallie looks at Gwen and me for backup. The two of us bounce our heads off in agreement. The awkwardness we’re all feeling is worthy of an epic nervous breakdown. Just shoot me.
With a flick of her eyebrows, Lilith shows Sallie the label. “Not too tired for this, are you?” It’s Newton Unfiltered Chardonnay. Sallie’s been talking about it all week. But given that it’s seventy dollars a bottle, she rarely drinks it. Imagine that. Here it is in Lilith’s kitchen.
“What?” Sallie says. “You bought Newton?”
“I thought it was your favorite,” Lilith replies.
“It is; but it’s my celebration wine.”
“It’s time to celebrate, girlfriend. Rush is almost over.”
Sallie takes a sip, closes her eyes. “Mmmm.” Then she starts that contagious, coveted laugh of hers, and I don’t know about Gwen, but it gives me momentary relief.
Now Lilith’s reaching for the bottle of red. She holds it in front of Gwen and me. “It’s your Prisoner.”
Prisoner is new to me. At least since I’ve been here at Lilith’s condo. She pours a glass and before she can pour another Gwen pushes her hand out. “None for me, thanks. I can hardly hold my head up.” After picking a grape off the cluster, she says, “Thank you for all this, Lilith, but honestly I’m too tired to breathe, much less drink. I’m hitting the sack.”
I so admire the young generation. They know how to be direct.
Stepping toward the hallway, Gwen turns. “Good night, you guys. See you early in the morning.” And there she goes down the hall, away from Sallie, and me, and what has turned into the most disturbing, cringeworthy night of our lives. Seriously, it’s as bad as accidentally forwarding a nasty email about someone to that someone.
“What’s different this year?” Lilith asks Sallie, refilling her own glass. “I don’t remember you wanting to quit after last year’s Rush.”
“You know about the variable quota, right?” Sallie, very calmly, asks.
Lilith presses a hand to her heart. “There will be some tears this weekend.”
By the stoic look on Sallie’s face, one would never know how prescient Lilith’s words actually are. Sallie is a master of disguise. I, on the other hand, must be a dead giveaway. I’m flipping nervously through the Garden & Gun. I’d rather be having knee replacement surgery—and for me that’s saying something—than be sitting here in Lilith’s kitchen.
She spreads a cracker with one of the tapenades. “So how did the final round of Sisterhood go?” Then she takes a delicate bite, holding her hand underneath to catch the crumbs.
“Fine,” I say, in a breathy tone, even though it was anything but.
“We had to cut several legacies,” Sallie says. Okay, she’s preparing Lilith for the fall.
But Lilith doesn’t react. All she says is, “Surely that tramp, Amber Maples, got cut.”
“She got cut earlier in the week,” Sallie tells her.
“Do they still have the Pref rule?” She’s referring to Preference. If a girl makes it that far she’s guaranteed a bid. No matter what.
Sallie reaches for a slider before answering. “It’s not a guarantee that you’ll get your first choice, but yes—if a girl gets invited back to Pref she’ll get a bid.”
I can tell Lilith’s calculating all of this, because Annie Laurie was only invited back to three sororities for Sisterhood. This is a fact she has not shared with us, but as Rush Advisors we know all. With the exception of Alpha Delt, all the older Houses cut her. The other two who invited Annie Laurie back are newer sororities that Lilith would never want her joining in the first place. Apparently, and unbeknownst to Ellie or me, Annie Laurie was not well liked in high school. She had a zillion reference letters from Lilith’s lionizers, but none of Annie Laurie’s peers can stand her. How Lilith is keeping her cool right now is mind-blowing.
“What time does Panhellenic need the list in the morning?” she asks, casually. “Last year, if I remember right, it was seven A.M.”
“It’s the same this year,” I say.
“Then I’ll have coffee and chocolate croissants ready for y’all by six.”
“Lilith,” Sallie says. “Please sleep in. You’ve been too good to us already.”
“Nonsense. This has been my treat, having y’all here.”
I find it very interesting that Lilith has yet to ask me which sororities Ellie has been invited back to. No doubt, she must be getting all of her information straight from Annie Laurie.
After Sallie and I have said our good nights we drag ourselves upstairs to our en suites. When we’re safely out of earshot, Sallie creeps into my room. “I swear,” she says, locking the door behind her, “if I live through Sunday it will be a flipping miracle.”
“Do me a favor?” I ask.
“Sure.”
“Please find a gun and put me out of my misery.”
Thank God for Sallie’s laugh. It cackles and she puts a little yell behind it. Hard to do it justice, but it’s about the only thing getting me through this Hell Week. “I took a week off work for this. Gwen did the same thing.” She squeezes her cheeks. “I work hard for my vacations. I need to use that gun on myself … for being so stupid!”
“Five months ago, Lily Turner was a distant memory,” I say. “Now Lilith Turner Whitmore is ruling—I take that back—she’s ruining my life.” I stagger over to the bed, sit down on the edge. “And to think Ellie could have gone to UT.”
“Is it true?”
“Is what true?”
“About the dorm room costing each of you ten thousand dollars?”
I fall back, splaying my arms and legs out wide. “How do you know about that?”
“Uh, I think everybody knows about that. I guess Annie Laurie told Mary Crockett, who told her mother, and, well, you know how that goes.”
I bolt back up. “Believe me. I walked into a booby trap on that one. My husband doesn’t even know about it. Yet.”
“Uh-oh.”
“‘Uh-oh’ is putting it mildly.”
“I also heard Lilith sent Annie Laurie to a ten-thousand-dollar intensive Rush workshop in New York City.” She puts an uppity aristocratic tone in her voice. “To learn the art of Rush conversation, and how to dress properly and accessorize for all the parties.” She sits on the edge of my bed, leans in toward me. “Did Ellie go with her?”
“I know you think I’m crazy, but I can assure you I’m not that crazy.” I sigh, loudly. “I’m living a nightmare. And there’s no end in sight.”
“Looks like it’ll get worse before it gets better. For you, anyway.” Sallie laughs again. And this time, I laugh along with her. What else can I do?
THIRTY-SEVEN
WILDA
I smell the coffee when my alarm goes off at six fifteen. Half of me is seriously considering opening the window, sliding down the gutter, and making a run for it. I think of calling Haynes for comfort, but I remember what he said when I left home: “I have officially removed the words Lilith and Gage Whitmore from my vocabulary.”
So I move on past the window and head into the Jack and Jill bathroom I’m sharing with Sallie. Her door is open and she’s already awake, her laptop resting on her thighs. I notice she’s taken the liberty of wrapping herself in one of the luxurious spa robes that’s been hanging on the back of our bathroom door all week. When she hears me she waves.
I walk over to the bed and slide in next to her, propping her other pillow behind me. “Coffee smells good. Want me to get you a cup?”
“Nah. I’ll go down with you. I’m just looking over our list again.” Most of the sororities on campus have hired an online company to compile a final tally of all the active members’ votes. Sisterhood Select is ours.
“Ellie’s on it, right?” I ask timidly.
Sallie points to the screen. “Right here. But no Annie Laurie Whitmore.” Then she groans loudly, looks up at the ceiling. “If anyone had told me I’
d be staying in the home of a woman, wait … the House Corp President, whose trashy daughter would be cut from Alpha Delt after Sisterhood, I’d have resigned a loooong time ago.”
“I’m still wondering if Lilith has a revolver.” I flop back on the pillow.
She laughs, keeps her eyes on her laptop.
“Clearly God’s trying to punish me,” I say. “It’s His payback for when I froze Celia Opp’s bra at Becky Goodwin’s slumber party.” Or more recently—my big whopper to Haynes.
Sallie lays her head back and chuckles. “That’s nothing. I did waaay worse.”
“Really? Lay it on me. You’re making me feel better.”
She sits up straight, propping herself with her hands. Then she peers at me over her readers. “I made fun of a boy in my Sunday School class with a lisp. To. His. Face. I can still see him. I leaned over two people and said, ‘Hi Bwad, when did you get your bwaces off?’ He almost cried.” She flops back down, stares at the ceiling. “As we all know, karma can be a real bitch when she wants to.”
“Speaking of karma, did you hang out with Lilith in college?”
“No. But, to be fair, she wouldn’t have wanted to hang with me, either. We were different then and we are total opposites today.” She blesses me with her laugh again.
“She hung out with the other officers, if I remember. Right?”
“Yep. Don’t you remember her mother?”
With a slight nod, I wrinkle my nose. “Maybe.”
“I’ll never forget her. She was some sort of an advisor. Always at the Alpha Delt House. She’d drop an N-bomb like she was part of the Klan.”
“Ew.”
Sallie shudders and makes a scary face. “That was Mrs. Turner.”
We lie there wallowing in our misery a little longer before the coffee aroma stirs me to action. “Let’s go get coffee,” I say, scooting off the bed. “It’ll give us a lift.” Then I look back at her. “It’s the best coffee I’ve ever had.”
“It oughta be.” Sallie stands up, takes a big stretch. “They have it flown in from Brazil.”
Lifting my arms overhead I say, “Of course they do!” then head into the bathroom.
I’m tying the sash on the other spa robe when I hear, “I saw Lilith set the timer on the coffeepot. Maybe she decided to sleep in.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” I say with a mouthful of toothpaste.
*
While creeping down the stairs, we hear the whooshing of the milk steamer on Lilith’s cappuccino machine. I turn to Sallie and mouth, “Told you.”
When we poke our heads in the kitchen, Lilith has her back to us, expertly bobbing a metal cup under the arm of the steamer. Due to the noise, she doesn’t hear us walk in.
Gwen is seated at the island behind her, holding a frothy mug of cappuccino with both hands. Banana and kiwi slices, raspberries, and a chocolate croissant are on a plate in front of her. When she sees us, she rolls her eyes dramatically.
The sound of the steamer stops abruptly and Lilith turns around. She seems surprised to see Sallie and me. “Good morning, ladies, did y’all sleep well?”
I pull out a stool. “All three hours of it.”
“If that,” Sallie says, settling down herself.
“I have some surprises for y’all this morning.” I watch Lilith pick up a mug and fill it with steamed milk, then garnish it with chocolate shavings and a rock candy stir-stick. “Who’s first?”
Sallie shifts in her seat. “Give it to Wilda. She needs it the most.”
When Lilith hands over the mug, she gives me an impenetrable grin. Hmm, I think, what does that face mean? “Thank you, Lilith. I feel like I’m at a restaurant,” I say, mimicking her grin.
“You sound like Gage. He tells Rosetta that every night after supper.” Once she’s finished making a coffee for Sallie, she slides it to her, then glances up at the large watchmaker’s clock on the wall. “Fifteen minutes till y’all upload the list. We’re almost home free.”
Home free until she finds out about Annie Laurie. Then all hell will break loose.
“Thank God,” Sallie says, sniffing the aroma before taking a sip.
“All in the name of sisterhood.” Lilith lays down the towel she’s been using to wipe the steamer. “Enjoy your cappuccinos, ladies. I’ll be back in a flash.” She grips the doorframe. “I have one more surprise for y’all.”
“Lilith, please,” Gwen says. “You’ve given us everything we could ever need for the rest of our lives.”
“Pooh.” She swipes away Gwen’s compliment and strolls off toward her bedroom.
When she’s out of earshot, the three of us start whispering.
“This is getting weird,” Gwen says with a sour expression. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m creeped out.”
Sallie whispers, “It’s almost like she knows something’s up with Annie Laurie. And she’s doing whatever she can to change the outcome.”
I squeeze my temples with both hands. “Why didn’t I encourage Ellie to go to UT? I could have saved my family misery.” I look at Sallie. “And money.”
Her nose flares. “I always wondered why I didn’t have daughters. Now I don’t have to wonder anymore.” She slaps the counter and laughs.
“I don’t think I want children,” Gwen says. “After watching this whole thing go down. No thanks.”
“I’m turning in my pin,” Sallie whispers. “I swear. I am turning it in.”
“Back at ya.” Gwen takes another sip of her cappuccino. “Even I’m rattled. And I’m usually calm in the face of adversity.”
“Triumph over adversity,” Sallie says. Then looks toward Lilith’s bedroom. “What’s taking her so long?”
Gwen and I look at each other and shrug. “Who knows?” I say.
Sallie reaches across me for a chocolate croissant. “I can’t even imagine how you feel, Wilda.” She turns to Gwen. “At least we don’t have a daughter rooming with Annie Laurie.”
All of a sudden intense heat envelops my body and I’m cooking, like I’m inside a stockpot set at a roaring boil.
Gwen knits her brows together, touches my cheek. “Are you okay? Your face is bright red.”
I take the Garden & Gun, the one from last night, and fan my face so hard I rip the cover. “I thought I had had my last hot flash, but that all changed when Lilith Whitmore reentered my life.” I lift my hair, trying to get the back of my neck. But it doesn’t help. So I dash over to the freezer and stick my head between two of the wire shelves.
I’ve been in there for what seems like two full minutes when Lilith finally decides to return. She opens the freezer door wider. “Wilda, what are you doing in my freezer?”
“Trying to kill myself,” I mutter.
“Shut the door. It’s getting cold in here, girlfriend.”
Reluctantly, I drift back to my seat.
There are three gorgeous gift boxes in her arms, and she places one in front of each of us.
“What’s this for?” I ask, picking up my box.
Lilith gives a light shrug then smiles impishly. “Just a little happy.”
“Lilith. You didn’t need to do this,” Gwen says indignantly.
“Of course I did. It was the least I could do for all the hard work you girls are doing for Alpha Delt. My gosh. You’ve spent a hundred hours this week alone.”
I might not know what’s on the inside, but I certainly know from where it came. Gwen unties the white satin ribbon, then slowly lifts the lid of the finely crafted turquoise box.
Lilith puts her hand out to stop her. “Hang on, Gwen. I want y’all to open them together,” she says, excitedly. “You’re all getting the same thing.”
After Sallie and I untie our ribbons, we all lift our box lids at the same time to find sterling silver key rings with a signature Tiffany heart. Please Return to Tiffany & Co. New York is on one side and each of our initials is engraved on the back, with our phone numbers underneath. I can hear the tape playing in all three of our
heads: Oh. My. God. Oh. My. God.
“Lilith,” Gwen says, firmly. “You did way too much.”
“Oh my gosh, Lilith.” Sallie holds hers up by a finger. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything. You girls deserve it.”
I have to say, I am no longer fooled by Lilith Whitmore. The woman is calculated in every single thing she does. So I force a smile and add a cryptic response. “You are something else, Lilith. Wow.”
“Uh-oh, look at the time,” she says. “It’s three minutes till seven. Don’t y’all need to upload the list?” There’s a bit of haughtiness in her tone.
“Well, crap.” Sallie hurries off her barstool. Then scampers out of the kitchen. “Thank you for reminding me,” we hear her say as she’s pounding up the stairs. “Do y’all trust me to hit send or do you want to look at it one more time?”
“Go for it. I’m tired of looking at it,” Gwen hollers, with a hand beside her mouth. Then she looks at me. “Upward and onward to Pref. It’ll be a loooong night.”
It will be a long night, all right. In fact, we should probably all move to Canada. Once Lilith finds out that Annie Laurie has been cut from Alpha Delt, her scream will cause a magnitude-ten earthquake and split the foundation of the Alpha Delta Beta House. We’ll all be enveloped into the bowels of the earth together.
THIRTY-EIGHT
WILDA
“Why is Annie Laurie Whitmore coming to Pref?” Lizzie asks the minute we step inside the chapter room at eleven o’clock. She and Selma James are seated next to each other staring at a laptop, which is on the table we’ve set up as a workstation.
“What are you talking about?” Sallie asks, setting her bag down on a chair.
“She’s on today’s schedule!” I can tell Lizzie is beside herself. Not only is she gnawing on her fingernails, there is sheer panic in her voice.
“Let me see that.” Sallie sits down next to her, turns the laptop her way. “Well, I’ll be darned. If her name isn’t right here I don’t know whose is.” Sallie looks up at me. “You saw the list we got from Sisterhood Select this morning. She wasn’t on it, right?”
