“Here we go.” Mamaw rolls her eyes. “The ol’ death bit again.”
Papaw plays like he didn’t hear her, but I know he did. He simply keeps his eyes focused on me.
“Why don’t you save the other nine hundred until I become governor?” I say.
“I’ll try, but don’t count on it,” he says. “Got your prayer stone?”
I dig inside my pocket, pull it out to show him. “Right here.”
With her eyes on the stone, Mamaw wraps her arms around me, pulls me in tight. When she lets go she manages a smile. “I’m proud of you, too. You know that, don’t you?” She rarely hands out compliments, so I know she means it. But she raises a cautionary finger. “Make sure you stay out of trouble. You’ve worked hard to earn your big scholarship and you don’t want to do anything to jeopardize it.”
I take a step back. No one knows this more than me.
“I’m expecting nothing less than a four point.” Piercing eyes lock on to mine.
Her expectations ruin the process. I’m the one wanting to make the Dean’s List. I don’t need her telling me to do it. The massive expectations I’ve put on myself are enough to kill any kind of social life I might have in mind, much less sorority life. But I am determined to do both. And find a job on campus to pay for it.
As if he’s reading my mind, Papaw says, “She doesn’t need you hassling her, Marge. Our Cali will be running our state soon. She knows what she needs to do.” Before Mamaw can object, he beckons us with both hands. “Come here, you two.” He puts his arms around both of us and my grandmother does the same.
I know what’s coming.
“Your Mamaw and I want to pray over you, Cali.” They bow their heads.
I freeze. Not here. Not in front of all these people. “Will… will y’all pray for me on the way home? It’s just… there are tons of people around.” The sight of all of us huddled together would draw tons of attention. And there’s no one else doing it.
Papaw’s face droops. Mamaw looks up with narrowed eyes, but she holds her tongue. Immediately I want to take it back. But I can’t help the discomfort I feel. So I hug and kiss them both and watch as Papaw opens the door for my grandmother. He pushes it to with a gentle hand, making sure she’s safely tucked inside. That’s who he is. Gentle, kind, protective.
I watch him stroll around to his side. Before he opens the door he glances up, then points to his right eye. He makes a gentle fist with both hands, crosses them over his heart, then points at me. I mimic his gesture, as I’ve done hundreds of times before, and watch him duck into the truck. My heart is stinging and I feel awful about not letting them pray for me. It was such a little thing, yet it meant the world to them. But I’m bound and determined to keep a low profile. Then no one will care enough to pry into my past.
Papaw backs out of his parking spot. Through the glass I watch him turning the steering wheel. He waves before moving his truck forward, then slowly drives out of the Martin lot. Resisting the urge to run after them, I stare blankly at the taillights of the truck while my grandfather makes a left onto Rebel Drive in the direction of home.
TWELVE
WILDA
How many times have I made this drive to Oxford? Two hundred? Three hundred? The only thing different from when Haynes and I were in school is Highway 78. Back then passing was nearly impossible. Widening the road from two to four lanes has cut the drive down by twenty minutes. I have no doubt that decision has saved the lives of many college kids.
I while away my time following up on phone calls and catching up on worry. About the boys and their jobs. And the possibility of Ellie getting cut from Rush. I’m not the only mother who’s concerned. Stories of girls getting cut from Ole Miss Rush are legendary, and that’s a legitimate reason to fret.
Haynes’s concern is not about Ellie getting cut from Rush. It’s the abundance of wealth some of these girls come from. It’s not only Annie Laurie, there are plenty more. We get by fine—I’m not suggesting that we don’t—but we are certainly not wealthy. Ole Miss gives a significant discount to students from Memphis and the surrounding area. The tuition is not all that much more than the cost for in-state students. And after three kids, that’s a big relief.
Rush aside, the prevailing worry I’ve been obsessing over since Haynes left the house this morning is this grand mess I’ve gotten myself into. First and foremost: the lie. And second: how in the world I’ll ever pay Mama back.Both have the potential to turn into a panic attack at any moment. So I do what I always do: pull a Scarlett O’Hara and worry about something else. I pick… Lily. Well, Lilith, and the contrast between our families.
Back in June, she invited Ellie and me down to Natchez. When we saw their historic Greek Revival mansion, surrounded by azaleas and gardenias on several acres of land, it should have been my first clue: Haynes and I would be spending many more dollars on Ellie’s education than we ever dreamed.
An old patina bronze mermaid fountain with water spilling out of her tail, lily pads and white blossoms, along with koi in the pond beneath, greeted us when we pulled in the driveway. Probably one of the most spectacular pieces of art I’ve ever seen. The magnolias were as tall and wide as our house in Memphis and Ellie and I could smell their blooms the minute we got out of the car.
When we walked up to the columned front porch, where two planted antique urns, belonging in an antique-and-garden show, were set on either side of the front door, I think the two of us knew, right then and there, we were way out of our league. But the real kicker came when Rosetta, Lilith’s maid, greeted us at the door wearing a white uniform. I truly felt like I had stepped back in time.
Once we entered the foyer, Ellie and I both were mesmerized by their massive staircase, which rose to a landing with an enormous stained-glass window. There was even an old ballroom on the third floor, which Gage now uses as an office. Opulence aside, the weekend was lovely, and both Lilith and Annie Laurie were gracious hosts. Annie Laurie even gave Ellie a graduation gift—a terrycloth towel wrap and a set of bath towels, both monogrammed with her initials. The only thing remotely negative Ellie had to say on the ride home was about Annie Laurie’s hair. “She spends more time than you do, Mom. Why does she care so much?”
***
There is no traffic to speak of until I roll onto campus. Then I remember Haynes’s warning. It’s move-in day for most people. The move-in day without an up-charge. Finding a parking spot is downright stressful, but when I finally walk onto the porch of the Alpha Delta Beta House, a warm feeling grows inside and I’m breathless with joy. I am home. Some of the best friendships and memories of my life were made in this House.
As soon as I open the front door and breathe in the familiar scent, I’m transported back to a time when life wasn’t jaded—a four-year vacation, when I think about it. Happy, fun, and for the most part, effortless—notwithstanding tests and a minor heartache or two. Of course, I didn’t appreciate it at the time. Looking back now, I marvel at my naivety. The stress over tests and grades, even the decision to switch my major from History to Journalism all seems incredibly trivial now. Even the angst I felt on Pref, over whether to join Alpha Delt or Tri Delt, is equally mild in comparison.
Speaking of which, I truly don’t care which sorority Ellie ends up pledging as long as she’s happy, but I can’t help thinking about how special it would be if it were Alpha Delt. I could be here for her initiation and be the one to pin her, something I never experienced with Mama. Several of my sorority sisters were pinned by their mothers. I remember well my feeling of envy as I watched the ceremony. Mothers dressed in white robes, placing their own Alpha Delt pins over their daughter’s hearts.
