Rush Page 2

  Once we’re alone Sarah takes Mama Carla’s chair. “Wait till you hear about my summer.” She pulls one foot up on the seat and props her chin on her knee. “A lot has happened.”

  “I hope it’s good.”

  “It’s not.” Pain creeps all over her little ol’ face.

  I reach over, take her by the hand. “Are you okay, Sarah?”

  She squeezes my fingers, shakes her head. By the way she’s biting down on her bottom lip I can tell she’s fighting back tears. “I’m okay. I just wish my life could go back to the way it was.”

  “Come here, baby.” I wrap my arm around her, pull her in tight. Her parents divorced last year and it about broke her heart. Mine, too, watching the way it tore her up inside. Sarah and I are close. We’ve spent hours talking about everything from Alpha Delt to grades and female friends to boyfriends, even more serious subjects like faith, dying, and the afterlife. It makes me feel good to know I can soothe her.

  “My dad insisted on helping me move in today. He’s around here somewhere. Asshole.”

  I pull back, look her in the eye. “What makes you say that?”

  She lowers her voice. “The truth finally came out. He’s been cheating on my mom with a girl only five years older than me.”

  “Lord have mercy.”

  “I’m so embarrassed.” Tears flood her eyelashes.

  “Sarah. I know that’s hard on you. But listen to me. Your daddy’s actions do not define who you are. You may come from him, but you are your own person.”

  “I know, I just don’t want people gossiping about me.” She’s right about that. Gossip is a favorite pastime in sorority houses.

  “Let them talk. They aren’t talking about you; they’re talking about your daddy.”

  She nods. But only slightly. A tear streaks down the side of her nose.

  Jenna Dole and Liz Lemley bounce in the door for their keys. When Sarah sees them she looks off, wipes her tears away with her fingers.

  “You just remember who you are and whose you are,” I whisper. “Will you do that for me?”

  A shy smile builds. “You always make me feel better.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.”

  What is it with these men who would sooner wreck their kids’ lives than deny that urge hanging between their legs?

  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. Pun not intended.”

  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.

  “She’ll be living in Martin, didn’t you tell me that?” Mama Carla asks.

  “Yes, Martin is the ‘it dorm’ this year. All her friends will be living there, too.”

  “Good for her,” Mama Carla says. “When does she move in?”

  “Next week with the other freshmen. But we’re paying a little extra for her to move in a day early. Gage wants to avoid the masses.”

  All our Alpha Delt girls are required to move into the House a week before incoming freshmen. It’s called Spirit Week and it’s their time to attend pre-Rush workshops to familiarize themselves with all the girls who’ll be rushing in the fall.

  I’ve had enough so I say my goodbyes. As
I’m walking off it seems Miss Lilith has something else she wants to tell me, a postscript to our initial conversation. “Pearl. May I ask you a personal favor?”

  Whipping back around, I smile at her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Will you please look after her? She’s never been away from home.”

  “Of course I will. That’s my job.”

  “Don’t misunderstand me. Annie Laurie is well traveled. Her father and I made sure of that. She went to summer camp in North Carolina practically every summer of her life, but she’s never been totally on her own. I wouldn’t want her to be in need of something and not be able to get it.”

  “Miss Pearl has been taking care of these girls for twenty-five years. You don’t need to worry a bit,” Mama Carla is quick to say.

  “Yes, I’ve heard.” Her eyes meet mine. “And I trust you implicitly. You’ll be her third mother. Between Rosetta and me, Annie Laurie Whitmore has had it made. You don’t even want to know how rotten she’s become.” She places a hand aside her mouth. “She’s my only.”

  I was an only. My mother’s pride and joy. But I decide to keep that to myself.

  “How long has Rosetta been taking care of your family?” Mama Carla asks.

  “Ten years. At least.”

  “She’s a part of your family, huh?”

  “Absolutely. That woman is captain of our ship. We couldn’t exist without Rosetta.”

  Mama Carla turns to me and smiles, gently touching me on the shoulder. “And we couldn’t exist without you.”

  The beeping sound of a phone interrupts our conversation. Miss Lilith yanks hers from her back pocket. “Oops. I better scoot. We have our first Recruitment meeting tonight. So many last-minute recs have come in and I need to give them the once-over. If I have anything to do with it, we’ll have our best pledge class in years. No trash will slip through the cracks on my watch. Only top-notch, A-list girls. See y’all.”

  The second she turns around Mama Carla rolls her eyes.

  “I thought she gave up her seat on the Rush Board,” I say. “Since when does the House Corp President get involved in Rush?”

  “Lilith Whitmore is involving herself in every single facet of Alpha Delta Beta. Something tells me we all better watch out.”

  THREE

  MISS PEARL

  The smell of catfish frying wafts from the kitchen into the dining room, setting my taste buds on fire. After busting through the swinging door, I clap my hands together and shimmy on into the kitchen, put a little dance move I learned at the club the other night into my step. Welcome back dinner is always something special.

  Aunt Fee sees me and gets to laughing. “What’s got you doing the happy dance?” She’s Aunt Fee to me but everybody else calls her Miss Ophelia. She’s our head cook. Been serving up fine feasts to the Alpha Delt girls for the last thirty-two years.

  “You know exactly why I’m dancing,” I say, then sing, “Celebrate good times, come on.”

  Catfish is not only one of my favorites, it’s one of everybody’s favorites around here. Most of the fish comes from Indianola, down in the Delta—pond raised and divine. It tastes delicious on its own, but you put Miss Ophelia’s cornmeal buttermilk coating on it, woo-whee, you’ve got yourself something fine. Put hushpuppies with it—hush your mouth. I like mine with a little chow-chow on the side.

  “Got a hundred thirty pounds; forty-four of ’em already fried,” Aunt Fee says. She’s standing in front of the stove with a pair of long tongs in her hand, moving filets from the deep-fryer to a large cookie sheet lined with paper towels.

  “Makin’ enough hushpuppies for me?” Mr. Marvelle—our House Man—yells from inside the pantry.

  “Got six set aside for a Mr. Marvelle Jones,” Fee hollers.

  “Is ’at all?” he hollers back, with his happy face poking out the pantry door.

  “What you think this is, an all-you-can-eat contest?”

  Mr. Marvelle steps out laughing. Slaps his knee and rears his head back. “You got that right.”

  I walk up to Latonya, Fee’s sous chef, and peek inside the pots she’s stirring. Black-eyed peas in one, collards in the other. If Jesus comes back tonight, we will have had one fine final meal.

  There are six of us on staff. Besides Marvelle, Aunt Fee, Latonya, and myself, we have two kitchen aides, Kadeesha and Helen. Kadeesha also helps me with the housekeeping. That is … when she decides to earn her check.

  The radio is turned up loud, set on a gospel station. Aunt Fee is singing like she’s part of the choir. Nobody’s watching Mr. Marvelle but me. I notice that smile on his face reshape; then the rascal shows up. He sneaks up to the old boom box then switches off the power. The music stops abruptly and Fee’s voice is the only sound in the room. She looks up in time to see his backside dashing out the door.

  Zipping out from behind the stove, Fee blasts by me like a rocket, with her tongs held high in the air. “Marvelle Jones! I know that was you. You better stay out of here.” Then she turns back on the radio. Even louder this time.

  The Five Blind Boys of Mississippi ring out loud and clear, “What a fellowship, what a joy divine, leaning on the everlasting arms.”

  “And you better learn to lean on Him, too, if you know what’s good for you. You hear me, Marvelle Jones?” Then back to the stove she stomps after throwing a subtle wink my way.

  Those two have a lot of fun together. They should, after twenty years of working side by side. She teases him. He teases her. It boosts the morale in the kitchen, helping us all to forget the cares of life. I believe they’re the same age. Aunt Fee’s sixty-four and if I’m not mistaken he is, too. “Medicare is just around our corner,” she often tells him.

  Not five minutes later, the music switches off a second time. Everybody but Aunt Fee turns around to see what that man’s up to now. Only it’s not Mr. Marvelle. It’s Miss Lilith. She must have slipped in without anyone noticing. Like a cat.

  “You better turn that box back on,” Fee hollers from the fryer. “This is my kitchen. I make the rules.”

  “Actually,” Miss Lilith says with a forced chuckle, “I make the rules.” Now everybody, including Aunt Fee, stops what they’re doing and stares her way. Not a one of us is happy she’s in here. “Hi. I’m Lilith Whitmore. The new House Corp President. It’s sure smelling good in here.”

  “Thank you, Miss Lilith,” I say after a long pause, because somebody needs to acknowledge her and no one else has.

  She walks around roving her big eyes into nooks and crannies that are none of her concern—even steps inside the walk-in cooler. Once the door clicks behind her and she’s back in the kitchen she props one hand on the Hobart dishwasher, uses the other to punctuate her words. “Aren’t y’all lucky to have this job? Where else in Oxford could you get a fabulous free dinner every night of the week?”

  I steal a look at Aunt Fee and notice she’s back to frying fish. Looks like the cat’s got her tongue.

  “And paid vacations.” Now she’s running two fingers against the edge of the chrome counter, like she’s checking for dust. “You must be the envy of all of your friends.”

  Latonya flashes a cool smile when Miss Lilith walks in front of her. Helen gives her a real one, but only because she’s sweet. Kadeesha? Woo. Her face looks like a stone.

  “My daughter is coming through Recruitment in October. I know once Annie Laurie tastes one of your home-cooked meals, she’ll think she’s never left home or our Rosetta.”

  When no one responds I go ahead and say, “Tell her we’re waiting on her.”

  “I sure will. Y’all save a plate for me tonight now.” Then she struts out as quietly as she came in.

  Once she’s gone I change the subject because if I know Aunt Fee, she is boiling inside. There’s no telling what she might spew herself. “All right, y’all. Listen up. Let’s start this school year off right. Who wants to participate in my I-vow-to-exercise challenge?”

  Latonya is the only one who looks up. Everybody
else keeps their head down. “Come on, now,” I say. “We can walk this campus together. If we want to keep eating all of Aunt Fee’s choice cuisine, we need to make sure we stay healthy. Who’s in?”

  “Me,” Latonya says. “I’ve been thinking about doing that myself.”

  With an encouraging smile I say, “Good, Latonya. Who else?”

  “I suppose I need to,” says Helen. “My hips is bigger than they was a year ago.”

  “All right, Helen. Proud of you.” That cat still has Aunt Fee’s tongue. “This includes you, Auntie. I’m getting you moving this year.”

  I hear a faint “Hmmph” out of her then.

  “I’ma take that as a yes,” I tell her, playfully nudging her with my elbow.

  “All right. If Miss O does it, I guess I will, too,” Mr. Marvelle says.

  I raise my voice so everyone can hear me over the fryer. “That’s everybody but you, Kadeesha. You in or out?”

  “I already exercise,” comes a faint voice. That’s all she says. And for the record, no she does not.

  “Mmm-hmm. And I bet you get a plenty of it, too,” Auntie mutters under her breath. “In the bedroom.”

  FOUR

  MISS PEARL

  On my way out after supper, once the rest of the staff has clocked out and gone—without a single lap around campus, I might add—I find Fee in one of the folding break chairs outside the back door. I plop down beside her, put my pocketbook down next to hers. Then I strip off my hairnet, stuff it inside the pocket of my scrub pants.

  She’s already got a wad of tobacco in her cheek and I can tell she’s whooped by the look on her face. The legs on her chair are tipped up, and she’s using the back wall to support her head.

  “You look tired,” I say.

  “I am tired. Been a looong day.”

  “I know that’s right.”

  Something I said must have triggered something else because she gets a sudden burst of energy. She sits straight up and leans in toward me. Outrage is oozing from every pore on her face. “What about that lady? Strutting into my kitchen, telling us all how lucky we are.”