by Lisa Patton
Selma shifts her gaze to the floor, then pulls her chin up and looks at Brooke with a neutral face. “I’m sure you’re right,” she says in a calm voice. “There may be several others who agree with you but are afraid of confrontation. That’s the Southern way.” After a nervous giggle she looks out at all of us. “There’s never been a black housemother on this campus. What should our response to that be in 2016? As you ponder your vote, I ask you to consider: Is the issue that Miss Pearl is black? In which case that’s a terrible precedent for our sorority to take. Or do you think she’s incapable of performing the job from an ability standpoint? Yes, we have a college degree requirement in our bylaws, but we are meeting here today to decide whether or not to put pressure on our board to change that rule. We are only asking them to change because the majority of us believe Miss Pearl does have the ability to do the job. She shouldn’t be eliminated from consideration because she has yet to finish college.
“Personally, I believe she has all the necessary skills required. Our goal here is not only to end up with the best candidate, but to do the right thing. We, as a sisterhood, should be leaders and take pride in knowing that we are promoting Miss Pearl because she is the right person for the job … regardless of her skin color.”
Instead of applause, you could hear a pin drop when Selma finished. She never told us how to vote, but she certainly took a stand for justice and for Miss Pearl. My respect for her has grown through the roof.
Once Lizzie is back with the paper and pens, she and Selma hand out stacks to the girls at the end of every row. We’re asked to simply write yes or no, fold the paper in half, then send our ballots back down to them. Selma asks three more Alpha Delt officers, along with Mrs. Woodcock, to help with the counting. All six of them sit at the table in the front of the chapter room and for the next twenty minutes tally the votes. As for the rest of the girls, most everyone is whispering. There is serious tension in the room.
The whole time they’re up there I’m sure the suspense will kill me. I’m hopeful, yet I’m still worried. I look over at Ellie and I can tell she’s worried, too. It seems most everyone feels the way we do about Miss Pearl, but after Brooke stood up it’s hard to know.
Thirty long, excruciating minutes later, Selma stands up from behind the table. Mrs. Woodcock and the other officers keep their seats. She grabs one of the microphones and holds it an inch from her mouth. “Okay, y’all.” Her smile grows and she holds her head high. “There are nine Alpha Delts, besides Annie Laurie, that couldn’t make it tonight. I will personally get votes from every one of them, but I don’t think it will matter. Four hundred and seventeen of you voted yes. And twelve of you voted no.”
It seems like everyone stands up, whooping and hollering and dancing in place. With the large crowd, it’s hard to tell who’s not clapping.
Once the noise dies down, Selma leans in to the mic. “If any of the people who voted no would like to speak with me about it, please come to me afterward. We can meet privately and discuss this at great length, but otherwise I think we have a vast majority.”
Mrs. Woodcock leans over and taps Selma on the shoulder. Selma looks at her and they talk for a moment before Selma continues. “For all you pledges who don’t know her, this is Wilda Woodcock, Ellie’s mom. She’s a Rush Advisor on our Advisory Board, which is different from the House Corp Board. It’s fairly confusing, but she’s here tonight and we’re grateful.” She hands Mrs. Woodcock the mic.
“Hi, girls,” she says as she stands. “I’m proud of all of you. But this is only the first step. Even though y’all are in agreement, we still have to have the House Corp Board’s stamp of approval. Since Lilith Whitmore is the president, and since she’s opposed, we should probably come up with a backup plan. In case she holds a hard line.”
Lizzie stands straight up, whispers to Mrs. Woodcock, then takes the mic. “I agree, and I think we need to do something big. Y’all think about it. If Lilith Whitmore tells us we can’t have our Miss Pearl, even if the whole board says no, which I can’t imagine is possible, I’m thinking we need to stage a protest and walk out. I’m serious. We need to take a stand here. I say … if they try to tell us no, let’s turn in our pins.”
Most of us stand up and clap. Once the applause dies down, Jessica Olson pops up from the middle and motions for the mic. “Y’all, think about what’s happening here. It’s pretty bad. Don’t you agree?” She looks around to see who’s on her side.
From where I’m sitting it looks like everyone is nodding.
“Right? But there are twelve of us who don’t agree, so I just want to say to them: Y’all don’t have to walk out with the rest of us, but I sure wish you’d change your minds. Maybe you don’t know Miss Pearl yet, but I have a story to tell you. Most of you know my mom died last year.” Jessica’s voice cracks and she closes her eyes to fight back tears. “Miss Pearl checked on me every single morning when she got to work for, like, five months. She let me cry on her shoulder, whether it be morning, noon or night. She’d call me, text me, send me scripture verses. Whenever I needed her, she was there. She so deserves this promotion. And one more thing. Did y’all know she’s a math whiz? Seriously. Give me a show of hands if Miss Pearl has helped you out with math.” She looks around the room and several girls have their hands raised. “See? College degree or not, Miss Pearl is a very smart woman. I’ll sit down now, but honestly, y’all. This is a no-brainer, and I agree with Lizzie, we need to stage a protest. What are they gonna do at the National office? Spank us?”
Everyone laughs and Jessica gives the mic back to Selma.
Another girl stands up. “I’m totally in favor of all this, but when? Let’s get a date nailed down and do it.”
“I don’t think we should wait,” yet another girl says. “Let’s do it next weekend. We have an away game. It’s the perfect time.”
“Okay. That sounds great,” Selma says. “Let’s get back together later in the week and iron out all the details. I’m super proud of everyone for wanting to do the right thing. Y’all are difference makers. You truly are.” Now she’s scanning the room. “Speaking of, Ellie, will you and Cali please come up here,” she says, waving us to the front. Ellie and I leave our chairs and scoot past others on our row. As I’m walking to the front I’m swelling with pride to be an Alpha Delta Beta.
Once we’re next to Selma, she says, “As you know, these two girls have spearheaded our campaign for staff benefits. Ellie’s dad, who’s a lawyer in Memphis, has been advising us as well. And Cali is the one Miss Pearl confided in this afternoon.”
My nerves have dissipated. I’m smiling inside and out. This whole plan is coming together much better than I could have ever dreamed.
“So we’ll adjourn for now. Everyone put your hand over your heart. I want to see a group secret swear that you will all keep this to yourselves.”
The active members place four fingers over their hearts, something we pledges don’t know about yet.
“Oops, my bad!” Selma presses her palm to her forehead. “Sorry, new members. This meeting has left us no choice but to break tradition.”
The handle on the chapter room door jangles. We all can hear someone fiddling with the lock. From where I’m standing in the front of the room I watch every head in front of me whirl around to the back. The door swings open. Lilith Whitmore appears in the doorway dressed in a fancy outfit and high heels, wearing a smirk on her face.
A toe-curling hush falls over the crowd. Only the slow, steady tapping of her heels breaks the deathly silence. All 430 some-odd heads turn toward the center aisle at once, as our House Corp President saunters to the front of the room. When I steal a sidelong glance at Mrs. Woodcock her entire face has gone white. Ellie reaches over to squeeze her mom’s hand. Selma and Lizzie look down at their toes and gnaw on their bottom lips. Everyone seems scared of her except me. Why would I be afraid of her now? There’s nothing else she can do to hurt me. So I stare right into her eyes, daring her to cross me again.
No one is moving. You could hear a kitten’s breath, it’s so still. When Mrs. Whitmore reaches the front of the room she turns around and makes a purposeful inspection of the crowd. The best I can figure is she’s looking for Annie Laurie. When she’s convinced her daughter’s nowhere to be found, she simply raises her chin and struts back down the center aisle. We all watch as she passes through the chapter room door without uttering a single word.
SIXTY-SIX
WILDA
When I saw Lilith standing in the chapter room doorway sneering at us all—dressed in a light blue suit that must have come from Neiman Marcus’s couture room, and that pin on her bosom—I almost wet my pants. Because I was the only advisor in the room. I would be the one who had to deal with her. All I kept thinking was: You idiot. Why didn’t you resign when you had the chance? As she strutted toward the front, I could feel the blood draining from my face. But when I felt Ellie reaching for my hand I knew I had to be strong. I had to show her what I was made of.
But Lilith left. She saw all of us staring at her wide-eyed and did an about-face. The security guard—well, he was dressed like one—came running in the second she was out of sight. Completely devastated.
“I tried to stop her!” he announced in a panic. “I even pulled my gun. But she barged right past me and used her key. I didn’t think you’d want me to shoot her.”
When I recounted the entire scene to Haynes later that night, he said, “The only reason she did that was to prove she could get past the security guard. Lilith Whitmore was not about to stand up in front of those girls and admit she’s a racist. She cares far too much about what people think.”
Now here we are, ten days later, in a crowd of a few thousand, standing in the street in front of the Alpha Delt House with our eyes locked on Lilith and Gage, who are watching the protest from a safe distance away. Lilith has finally been outwitted. There’s no way she’ll embarrass herself today. Not in front of this many people. And certainly not in front of a television camera.
“I wonder who tipped off Channel Five?” I say to Haynes. Their news truck has been parked in front of the House since ten o’clock this morning.
He shoots me a sly smile.
My mouth flies open. “Haynes Woodcock!”
“Four hundred and thirty-eight college girls walking out on their sorority to take a stand for their beloved housekeeper who’s been denied a promotion because of her skin color? That’s big news.”
I’m staring at him in shock.
“I figured a little help from the media couldn’t hurt the cause.” He winks and smiles devilishly.
“Don’t you know Lilith is furious right now? I’m surprised she’s even here.” I can’t take my eyes off of her. Several times now she’s put her phone up to her ear, then hung up abruptly. Like she’s calling someone who isn’t answering. “How many people do you think are here today?”
Haynes scans the crowd, which has spilled into the street halfway down Sorority Row. “Looks like Bid Day to me. It’s hard to tell, but I’m guessing two or three thousand?”
“It’s got to be that many.” The crowd is made up of students and professors, even uniformed campus workers. Seems like everyone wants to witness the historic event.
Haynes Woodcock, Esquire, could not be happier. Watching his daughter, all dressed up along with her sorority sisters, awaiting Miss Pearl’s arrival—having lead the charge for staff benefits and racial equality, has him on the verge of tears. He might be fighting them back, but I’ll see them any minute now.
“Look at her, Wilda,” he says, gazing at Ellie, who is in her total Ellieness, chatting with several Alpha Delts on the front lawn.
I entwine my fingers with his. “What are you thinking right now?”
He looks at me—there’s that tear—and says, “How lucky we are that our daughter’s head is on straight and how she cares about social justice and doing the right thing for people. At such a young age.”
I think back to when I was Ellie’s age. Drinking, smoking pot, acting as wild as a March hare. No doubt about it, I enrolled in college to graduate with an extra degree in Fun. I don’t begrudge that time. It does sadden me, though. Never once did it cross my mind to consider the needs of the ladies who worked at the Alpha Delt house. Or how little it would have taken to provide for them. We loved them, too, every bit as much as the girls love Miss Pearl, Miss Ophelia, and the other staff members.
Haynes looks at me funny. “Why the sad look? You should be happy.”
“I’m so happy about Ellie. It’s just … I can’t help regretting the wasted time before today. The staff was every bit as wonderful when I was an Alpha Delt. We never even thought about them. It makes me sad.”
He stretches a loving arm around me. “I never thought about it either till the night Ellie and Cali told us about their plan for change. You’d think I would have. I make my living defending less fortunate people.”
“Oh well. We can’t look backward.”
He shrugs. “But we can damn sure focus on the future.”
I happen to spot Annie Laurie’s face, just beyond Ellie’s. “Did you notice Annie Laurie?”
Haynes looks up. “Where?”
I point to the porch. “Third girl from the left.”
“How did that happen? I thought she wasn’t participating.”
“Cali and her roommate helped her to see the light. From what Ellie tells me, Jasmine heard Annie Laurie in her room crying while the girls were at the emergency chapter meeting. When she went over to see if she could be of help, Annie Laurie told her she felt like everyone in Alpha Delt hated her. And that she’d been wanting to stand up to her mother for a long time, but didn’t know how.”
“Really?”
“Evidently so. Then that sweet Jasmine took Annie Laurie out to dinner—paid for it—and spent the rest of the evening consoling her. Until the girls got back to the dorm. Apparently, she’s had a real change of heart. She’s been a different person since.”
“Do you trust her?” Haynes asks with skeptical eyes. “People don’t change overnight.”
“I know they don’t. But Ellie thinks it’s been coming for a long time, and that Annie Laurie has buried a lot of her feelings about Lilith. We all reach our tipping point.” I think back to my recent come-to-Jesus moment when I had to confront who I’d become. “We have to look ourselves in the mirror, or…” I throw my hands up.
He juts his chin across the street. “Or end up like them.”
Gage and Lilith have moved in closer for a better view.
“I bet she’s furious at Annie Laurie,” I say. “Can you believe she had the nerve to show up?”
After rubbing one of his eyes, he adjusts his glasses, then pats my shoulder. “Be assured. This is far from over.”
Lilith is still frantically trying to call someone. She keeps punching in a number then waiting for an answer. But no one’s picking up. I can tell she’s angry. Her arms are crossed and she’s tapping her foot.
“Uh-oh. Buckle your seat belt.” Haynes’s gaze has shifted to our front yard and, more important, toward Annie Laurie. She’s left her post on the porch and is hurrying down the front steps in a long, flowing black dress. Her phone is in her right hand and now she’s crossing the street. Lilith emerges from the crowd and marches out to meet her. Gage follows behind.
“Let’s eavesdrop,” Haynes says, taking me by the hand.
“You can’t be serious.”
“And miss the best show in town? Damn. I want a front row seat.”
He weaves us along the edge of the crowd until he finds a spot within earshot. I hide behind him—just in case.
Annie Laurie storms up to Lilith, shoves her hands on her hips. “Stop calling me! Can’t you take a hint? I don’t want to talk to you.”
She’s turning back around when Lilith grabs her by the arm.
“Let go,” Annie Laurie says, yanking her arm free. Then she gets up in Lilith’s face. “I am embarrass
ed to be your daughter.”
Gage steps between them. “Don’t you talk to your mother like that, young lady.”
Annie Laurie glances at him. Then her eyes travel right back to Lilith. Her arms fall to her sides and her posture slumps. Seems like something has cracked inside. “I’m so disappointed in you. You aren’t the mommy I remember.” A startling tenderness has crept into her voice. “We have to help Miss Pearl so her world can change.”
“You’ll have to trust your father and me on this, Annie Laurie. There are some issues you’re still too young to understand.”
The way she hangs her head tells me she feels defeated. Instead of trying to persuade her parents again, Annie Laurie takes a step back.
“Wait. We can talk about it,” Lilith says desperately, moving toward her. “You’ve always trusted my judgment before.”
“Well, not anymore.” Annie Laurie takes another step back. “For the first time in my life I have friends. Nice friends who want to do the right thing for people. Unlike you two.”
Lilith reaches for her, but Annie Laurie stays put. “No, I don’t want to talk about it. Not tomorrow, the day after that, or the month after that. If you insist on acting this way, just leave me alone.” After a heartbroken stare at Lilith, she turns around and runs back across the street, up the stairs to the House. I see Cali, who is along the walkway, reach for her. Then Ellie, who is right next to Cali, does the same. After several reassuring hugs from other Alpha Delts, Annie Laurie moves back to her place on the front porch.
Lilith stands there watching her daughter. Her lips are no longer pressed together in fury; they have softened into a straight line. For the next five minutes her eyes never leave Annie Laurie. It’s hard to read her, but I’d swear on my children’s lives I see more than anger. Call me crazy, but those eyes look more wounded than furious. It takes a mother to know one and I’m pretty sure I see pain all over her face. As hard as it is for me to believe Lilith Whitmore is capable of that emotion I have a sixth sense it’s there. I actually think Annie Laurie may have ruptured a valve in that cold heart of Lilith’s. I start to bring it to Haynes’s attention, but decide to let it go. I’m not sure he’d see it. He is a man, after all.
