“Good morning, Miss Lilith,” I say from the door. “Looks like Santa’s workshop in here.”
“That it does.” She bends right back down, checks another gift tag. “I’m looking for the gifts Gage and I sent Annie Laurie. Making sure they’re all here. I’m not supposed to know she’s a new member. But I have my sources. How are you, Pearl?” she asks, stepping carefully between baskets.
I move on into the room, find a clear spot on the floor to stand. “Doing fine. Doing real fine. And what about yourself?”
“Couldn’t be better. I’ve been waiting eighteen years on this day.”
Mama Carla is exactly right. This lady is as happy as a rabbit in a two-acre garden.
“Annie Laurie will love it here,” I tell her. “I remember you asking me to look after her back in August. Do you remember that?”
From a squatting position, she finally takes a moment to look at me. “If I recall we were standing right outside of this room. I had just bonked your poor nose.”
Whacked is more like it.“Sure were. And I remember you telling me you would like me to be her third mother.”
“Yes, and I’m hoping you’re still up for the challenge.” She stands up straight, puts a hand to the small of her back. “As her daddy likes to say, ‘our girl can be high-maintenance.’”
“That’s exactly what I want to talk with you about, Miss Lilith. I’d like to use this opportunity to tell you I’d like to take Mama Carla’s place as housemother. That way I can really look after her.”
She plays like she didn’t hear me, going back to searching through the gifts. But I know she did.
“Miss Lilith? Did you hear what I said?”
She looks up. “I heard you say something about Carla. In the future, however, I would prefer to be called Mrs. Whitmore.”
Here we go. I best buckle up. “I said I’d like to apply for the House Director’s job—Mrs. Whitmore.”
She doesn’t respond. As I’m about to repeat myself a third time she does. “Pearl. You are such a dear to want to take that on. But you haven’t been to college.” Her tone is pleasant, but there’s a distinct air to it.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve been to college.”
That woman’s head turns around so fast she may have to be treated for whiplash. “You’ve been to college?”
“Sure have.”
“Here? At the University?”
“Yes, ma’am. I attended for a year.”
She puts a hand to her heart. “Youattended?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“So you didn’t graduate?”
“Not yet. But I’ve decided to go back and earn my degree.” I smile when I say it. I’m proud of myself.
Shetsks,loudly. “I’m sorry, but the House Director is required to have a college degree.”
“It won’t take me long. I’m a good student, Miss Lil—Mrs. Whitmore. My plan is to take online classes at night. And work school around my schedule here.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible. Our Alpha Delt bylaws clearly state that the House Directormusthave a college degree.” It doesn’t take a dummy to read what’s written all over this lady’s face. Relief.
But that’s not going to stop me. “I can promise you I would be an excellent House Director. I love these girls like they’re my own daughters. I already know the job backward and forward. Mama Carla said it herself.” As soon as those words leave my lips I know I’ve said the wrong thing.
One hand flies to her hip, another taps her thigh. She lowers her chin. “Carla has been talking with you about this?”
“We briefly discussed it when I told her I wanted to apply.”
