He reaches out, clutches my wrist. “You know how I feel about them.”
I do know how he feels about them, but I like Lilith. Sure, she’s bossy and overbearing, I suppose, but she’s Ellie’s roommate’s mother. And she’s gone out of her way to be nice to all of us.
“Frank and Judy will have good food,” he says. “They always do.”
I nod in reluctant agreement, and we get out of the car.
As we’re walking up the hill, perspiration building with each step, I stop suddenly. Hot and out of breath, I say, “Do I look snappy casual?”
Haynes curls his lip, then laughs out loud. “That’s random. What the heck are you talking about?”
I stop, look down at my white jeans, new booties and new top, breathing heavily. “It’s the dress code for the Whitmore party. According to Lilith, that’s how the British say it.”
Wearing one of his signature saucy expressions, he glances down, scanning his attire—blue jeans, tennis shoes, and a red golf shirt. “By George, I jolly well suppose I’ll have to stay at Frank and Judy’s then,” he says in a British accent. “Do enjoy yourself, dahling.”
I don’t even have enough breath to comment. By the time we get to the top I’m soaked and nearly wheezing, but I push on. My hair is frizzed out to the max. Reluctantly, I tie it back with the ponytail holder I always keep wrapped around my wrist. Haynes notices, and with an amused smile says, “I love you, Wilda.”
Twenty minutes later, we finally see the edge of the Grove. Haynes stops moving when we round the corner, pausing to take it all in. “Would you look at that.”
A red, white, and blue tent city is laid out before us, ten acres of American patriotism under a canopy of live oaks, magnolias, and elms. Every inch of earth is crawling with football fans who love to party. Nothing is more fun or more Americana. You could tailgate in the Grove every fall for the rest of your life and never begin to see it all. Each tent is different, some decorated with themes, some fancy, some not, but it’s pretty much guaranteed that the food inside any and all of them will be delicious.
We spend the first hour and a half with Frank and Judy. They’ve been hosting Grove parties for the last twenty years and always have plenty of good food and drink. But as sweet and hospitable as they are, the whole time we’re here I keep imagining Lilith’s face. And how she’ll be wondering where we are. Knowing Haynes only wants to stay for one beer is giving me pre-diarrhea.
TWENTY-FIVE
CALI
When we walk into the Whitmores’ tent, at about twelve fifteen, I can feel my eyes practically pop out of their sockets. Seriously, I’m not exaggerating. This place doesn’t look a thing like the other tents we’ve passed. It’s… well, besides Ellie and Annie Laurie’s room, it’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. The space isginormous and there’s even a crystal chandelier. And the food. Oh my gosh, the food. Just the smell of it makes me salivate. Uniformed workers are walking around passing little bites to all of the guests. All of a sudden I’m so hungry I want to run off with one of the trays and eat every single morsel myself.
Mrs. Whitmore, who is wearing an outfit straight from a fashion magazine, is talking with a group of women who are dressed up almost as lovely as she is. She sees us and hurries over.
“Annie Laurie, you look gorgeous. Turn around and let me see your hair.” Annie Laurie spins a small circle and I watch Mrs. Whitmore study her daughter’s entire body, spending most of the time on her feet. Her tone shifts. “I told you there’s a chance of rain today, Annie Laurie. I hope those pretty suede booties make it through.”
Annie Laurie simply shrugs.
“Oh well. If you ruin them don’t come crying to me.” Ellie and I stand there in awkward silence. Just when I feel like it can’t get any weirder, Mrs. Whitmore finally acknowledges us. “Hello, girls. Don’t you both look nice?” She briefly eyes us up and down.
We smile and tell her thank you.
“You look so pretty, Mrs. Whitmore,” I say. “Is that your Alpha Delt pin?”
Reaching up to finger it, she gives me a saucy smile. “Yes indeed. I don’t go anywhere on this campus without it.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “I’m a former president.”
“My mom told me you were,” Ellie says. “That’s cool.”
“My blood runs true blue. I’m a third generation Alpha Delta Beta. And hopefully Annie Laurie will be the fourth.”
Ignoring her mother’s comment, Annie Laurie tugs on the front of my dress. “Cali’s wearing Ellie’s dress. Doesn’t it look good on her?”
Now it’s me Mrs. Whitmore is studying. Thoroughly. And it makes me feel super uneasy. “It sure does. I saw the rec Mrs. Woodcock wrote for you, Cali.” She crosses her arms and a smile builds slowly. “That was very kind of her. I’m sure you’ve written her a nice thank-you note?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m very grateful,” I say.
“Ever since I read it I’ve been curious about something. Tell me, what is your given name?”
“Ma’am?”
“Your real name. Surely it’s not Cali. It must be short for something?”
