TWO
MISS PEARL
Once Mama Carla has returned, I figure I better see what’s happening in the kitchen. As I’m making my way there, trying to dodge the dollies and rolling suitcases, I see a lady with her face down in her cell phone. Her blond hair is twisted up on top of her head like she’s one of the sisters, and she’s wearing light blue pedal-pushers with a white Alpha Delt T-shirt, our official sorority colors.
I try sidestepping her, but as I do she turns and—whack—hits me in the nose with her cell phone. I steady myself against the wall. My nose is throbbing and I’m… dizzy. Burying my face in my hands, I count to ten. When I open my eyes Miss Lilith Whitmore, the new Alpha Delt House Corp President, is standing right in front of me. Her eyes are bulging like Mama Carla’s shih tzu.
“Pearl! Excuse me. That was an accident.”
“It’s no bother.” Pinching the bridge of my nose helps to stop the pain. But even with my nose aching I still notice her scent. It’s sweet, but extra loud, like a pasture full of gardenias.
“I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
“Nothing more than a broken nose,” I say, and get to laughing.
The look on her face says she didn’t think my joke was funny. “Shall we take you to the hospital?”
“I’m all right.” I smile, let her know it’s all good. But my nose is stopped up, hard to get air through.
I’m moving along when she tugs on my arm. “I’m glad I bumped into you, Pearl.” Both hands fly to her mouth. “Oh gosh. Punnotintended.”
I force another smile. Lord, I really am in pain.
“My daughter, Annie Laurie, is coming through Recruitment this year.”
“We’ll be happy to have her right here at Alpha Delt.” This lady is right pretty. Her face is real smooth, but something tells me she’s not as young as the other mamas. Folds and creases circle her neck, like a basset hound’s.
“Alpha Delta Beta were practically her first words. If she doesn’t pick us first I’ll kill her,” she says with a wink. “I have high aspirations for that girl.” Miss Lilith took office as House Corp President in May after serving on the Recruitment Advisory Board for a year. We haven’t had much interaction before today.
From the corner of my eye I see Mama Carla strolling toward us from her apartment. She’s got that little smushed-face Trudy in the crook of her arm. Don’t get me wrong—I like dogs, but I’ve had to clean up after Trudy more times than I can count. When Mama Carla sees who it is I’m talking to she rushes over to where we’re standing. “Don’t you look like a collegiate today!” she says to Miss Lilith. “I almost mistook you for one of the girls.” Why Mama Carla’s gushing over her so has me perplexed. It’s not her normal, but then I remember Lilith Whitmore is her boss.
This pleases Miss Lilith. She bats her eyes. “I try.”
My eye is drawn to the Alpha Delt jeweled pin fastened to her left breast. Normally I don’t see many of the alums wearing them unless there’s a formal occasion.
“Bet you’re getting excited about Annie Laurie going through Rush, I mean Recruitment,” Mama Carla says. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get that right.” A few years back, Rush became Recruitment. She’s right. It’ll take a month of Sundays for that to stick. At least for us old folks.
“I’m telling you, we’ve spent our entire summer sending out rec packets,” Miss Lilith says. “All we had time for was one week of vacation.”
Both Mama Carla and I just look at her.
“We took Annie Laurie and her friend Kate on a diving trip to Cayman.” She leans toward us, lowers her voice. “We own a home.”
“How lovely,” Mama Carla remarks. But I know what she’s really thinking.
“It’s pretty dreamy, if I do say so. We could have used three weeks down there, but with Recruitment so close I was afraid to be out of the country that long. My darling husband, Gage, said, ‘Not to worry. We’ll go again over Christmas.’”
After forcing a grin Mama Carla adds, “Of course.”
“But as long as she pledges Alpha Delt that’s all that matters.” Miss Lilith presses her pale pink manicured hand over her heart. “I can’t stop myself from dreaming she becomes president.”
Mama Carla puts a hand to her hip. “Following in her mama’s footsteps.”
Miss Lilith beams. “Of course I want her to have a good Rush. With all the recs and letters we’ve managed to amass this summer, surely she’ll be a top PNM. I told her, ‘Have all the fun you want, but you must pledge Alpha Delta Beta!’” PNM, by the way, is the new term for rushee—potential new member.
Although Mama Carla opens her mouth to comment, Miss Lilith keeps on gabbing. “Annie Laurie spent her entire summer working out and dieting—she practically starved herself in Cayman. And her Rush wardrobe… her daddy nearly had a stroke when he got the bill.”
I’d really like to make an exit out of this conversation. My nose is still throbbing and well, I don’t have much to add.
