When I step into the foyer, the dead quiet in the House is as jarring as clanging cymbals. It’s twelve thirty. Shouldn’t the clamor of lunchroom voices be resounding through the halls? The only person around is the Alpha Delt housekeeper, the one who’s been working here umpteen years. She’s pushing a dust mop across the hardwood in front of the winding staircase. An ear-to-ear smile is on her face—while she’s doing housework. I could learn a thing or two from this lady.
Waving her down, I hurry over. “Excuse me, I’m here for the Rush Workshop. Where is everybody?” My eyes scan the foyer and the adjacent dining room.
“Downstairs in the chapter room,” she says, with such kindness in her voice. She reminds me of Annie Mae, the lady who worked for our family while I was growing up. The one I considered my second mother—and sometimes my only mother, if truth be told. Sadly, she passed away five years ago.
“Already? I thought I was early.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s already started.”
“Well, darn.” After a quick glance at my watch I say, “I thought it started at one.”
“Uh-oh. I believe it started at noon. But don’t quote me on that. I could be wrong.”
“Uh-oh is right. I’m in big trouble.”
The sound of her laughter fills the empty foyer. I can’t help picturing Lilith. Something tells me she was right on time.
“I’m Wilda Woodcock, by the way. The new Rush Advisor.”
“Well welcome home, Miss Wilda. I’m Pearl.”
“Thank you. It’s good to be home. And nice to see you, Pearl.” When I reach out to hug her I notice her scent. “You sure smell good.”
“Why, thank you. It’s Ralph Lauren. One of my babies gave it to me.”
“Have you seen Lilith Whitmore? I’m supposed to meet her here.”
“Yes, ma’am. She’s down there.”
“Okay, let me run. Have a nice day, Pearl.”
“You, too, Miss Wilda. Good to see you.”
What a nice lady,I think.Attractive, too.
I hurry downstairs to the basement. The chapter room door is shut. Tight. The sight of that ominous entryway transports me back in time when I was late—always late—to Monday night chapter meetings. That same hot flash I felt back then courses through me now as I turn the doorknob and quietly inch my way into the back of the room and grab an empty seat against the wall.
A young lady, whom I presume to be the Rush Chairman, is speaking to the girls about their top rushees. Actually she’s calling them potential new members. I suppose I’ll have to pick up the lingo if I’m to be a good advisor.
Rush Workshop meetings have not changed all that much. There’s still a large screen and photos of the PNMs are projected with their names and hometowns off to the side. Each member is required to learn their faces, where the girls are from, and something about each of them. That’s so every girl will be recognized the moment she enters the House and graced with familiar conversation. I glance around and each collegian is holding a bundle of papers with what appears to be additional information on each rushee.
When she sees me, Lilith, who is seated across the room, creeps over and hands me a bundle so I, too, can follow along with the slide show, PowerPoint, or whatever they call it now. She’s wearing her ADB pin. The old-fashioned kind with the little gold chain hanging from a tiny gold quill—on top of her left bosom, over her heart. I’m sure it belonged to her mother. But no one else is wearing one. They’re supposed to be worn for formal occasions only.
The meeting goes on for a long time with comments about each girl, kindand not so kind. I hadn’t anticipated this. When they discuss Ellie will I be asked to leave the room? Maybe they’ve already discussed her and it’s a good thing I’m late. It looks like more than three hundred girls are here today, all with opinions about my daughter. I’m jittery just thinking about it.
On the other side of the room, closer to Lilith, I notice the other Rush Advisors. Right away I recognize Sallie. She was funny and well liked—only a year ahead of me. I’m looking forward to working with her. Presumably the other lady is Gwen. She looks much younger than me—by at least twenty-five years. I’m happy to know they’re here. I’d hate to be the only one making critical decisions.
While looking around, I notice the room is littered with half-eaten sandwiches, chips, apple cores, and Coke cans. When I spy a tray of leftover sandwiches in the corner, my stomach responds with a loud, embarrassing growl. I’m starving and all I can think about is getting my hands on one of those sandwiches.
Should I take one?Why not?I finally decide, but the second I start to stand Annie Laurie’s picture pops onto the screen. Lilith jumps up before the Rush Chairman, Lizzie Jennings—I’ve now learned her name—has a chance to speak.
“Okay, y’all, I have to tell you what Annie Laurie and I talked about yesterday,” Lilith begins in a booming voice. “I’ve told her there’s no way she can pledge any other sorority.But,like any mother, I do want her to have a good Rush. She’s got dozens of rec letters to all the other houses, but I don’t want anyone to be alarmed.” She pauses, scanning the faces of every girl to make sure they’re listening. “She wants to be an Alpha Delt.”
Now I’m the one scanning the girls’ faces. Some of them have obligatory grins. Others have sneers. Because what Lilith just did is so very awkward. Honestly, my toes are curling in my sandals.
One girl seated near me leans toward another and whispers, “She’s acting like she’s in charge of whom we choose and she’sso not.” Then the other girl whispers back, “She’s not a Rush Advisor anymore. Why’s she down here?” They both look at each other and shrug.
Then, as if she’s overheard their comment from across the room, Lilith adds, “Oh, by the way, I want to introduce y’all to our new Rush Advisor. Stand up, Wilda.” She points at me, then flicks her right palm.
