“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.
