As soon as she had resolved that she would not go, she heard a knock at her door. When she opened it, Miz Peaches breezed in, smelling like citrus and carrying an armful of satin and tulle.
“Sugar, I’m so sorry to be late. There was an accident right at my exit off the highway. The darn lane was backed up for a full mile.”
“I’m just grateful that you made it,” said Sophia, relieved.
It was the first time Sophia had seen Miz Peaches out of uniform. She looked beautiful in a khaki swing dress. Her face was painted, and her hair was curled in the mushroom style that Sophia had seen on Diana Ross.
“Come on, sugar, let me get you in this dress.”
She helped Sophia slip into the petticoat, tied her into a corset, and then slipped the seafoam green dress over her head. Then she pulled and tied and zipped and primped until Sophia was secure in the dress.
Miz Peaches whistled. “Honey, you look like a Southern belle. I feel sorry for those other girls.”
Sophia faced the full-length mirror and gasped. She was taken aback. On the farm, they never dressed up for Easter or went to holiday parties.
“Now, let me just give you a little lipstick, ’cause you’re so pretty, you don’t need much else.” Miz Peaches reached into her purse and pulled out a tube. “There. Now, who’d you say was your escort?”
“Claude.”
“Honey, hush. Be prepared to give him a full-on heart attack.”
Miz Peaches sprayed her down in perfume and then walked her to the lobby, where Claude stood in a black suit, two sizes too big, with a plaid bow tie. He did a double take when he saw her.
“You two have fun,” Miz Peaches said with a wave. “My work here is done.”
“Thanks again,” Sophia called after her before turning to Claude. He cradled a pink and white corsage and held it out to her.
“Sophia. You look… beautiful.”
“Thank you. You do too.”
He stuck out his arm, and reluctantly, she linked hers with his as they walked out of the dormitory. The sun was nearly gone from the sky, and a light breeze shifted the air. They moved in silence for a few minutes before Claude struck up a conversation that at least helped them avert an awkward silence.
Up ahead was the Magnolia Clubhouse, the campus student center where the dance was being held. As they got closer, Sophia could hear rowdy voices, but she couldn’t see whom they were coming from because it was getting dark. When they approached the clubhouse, she saw at least ten brawny boys dressed in Confederate uniforms standing on the lawn. A few twirled small Confederate flags as they posed for a picture. At the sight of them, Sophia felt Claude’s arm twitch.
“You all right?” she asked softly.
“Yeah, I just don’t want any trouble.”
Sophia remembered the story that Willa had told her of Claude being pushed around and tormented by the boys on his first day of school. The trauma of that moment seemed to reactivate inside him, because she could feel his whole body shake as he pulled her along toward the clubhouse. When they reached the steps, Sophia could hear “Help Me, Rhonda” by the Beach Boys floating from the speakers inside. She thought about how much better she’d feel when they reached their friends.
“Well, would you look at who we have here,” one of the Confederate-dressed boys said to their backs, but the two kept walking as if they didn’t hear him. “It’s Aunt Jemima and Uncle Ben. Boys, supper is ready. Now we can eat.” He burst out laughing.
“What’s on the menu?” another shouted.
“Chicken and watermelon,” the other said, and cackled as the door to the clubhouse closed behind them.
In the foyer, Sophia turned to Claude, who looked like a cat stuck in a tree. “Don’t pay them any mind.”
“I’m not. I’m cool.” Claude took her hand and led her into the large reception room.
Max, Willa, Louis, and Nancy from physics were sitting at a table next to the refreshments. Sophia could feel all eyes on her and Claude as they entered.
Willa stood and rushed to Sophia. “You look amazing,” she exclaimed. “Come have a cookie.”
Max stood when Sophia got to the table. “Hey, what took you guys so long?” He directed the question to Claude and then looked to Sophia for an answer. He was wearing a dark blue suit, tapered and fitted with a black bow tie. With his sloppy smile on her, Sophia’s knees felt spongy.
“It was my fault,” she said. “What did we miss?”
