Alma Mater (31 page)

to R. J. You can't drive back to Williamsburg now. It's really going to
be a big one."

They reached Surry Crossing just as the heavens opened.

Frank said nothing to his wife. Mignon stayed glued to Charly,
and Frank didn't want to break the news with his youngest there.
Charly called Vic
and
told her he wasn't in the dorm. If she guessed
why he was at Surry Crossing, she didn't let on.

Finally Frank told Mignon to go to her room and study. He and
R. J. had some business to discuss with Charly. When they told R. J.
the news, she cried, hugging Charly and kissing Frank. She said she
was happy that Vic had such a good young man. Yet she thought to
herself that Vic was so young and the world so big. Couldn't they wait
a year or two? But she kept these thoughts inside. After all, she had married at twenty.

_H

ow could you?" R. J. was so upset she whipped the kitchen
counter with her dish towel.
"Mom, it's not all that bad." Vic faced her mother.
Both women were standing at the kitchen sink. Piper sat between
them, intently watching the exchange.

Outside, tree limbs lay scattered over the lawn. The storm that had
roared through Surry Crossing the night before was now worrying
ships on
the
Atlantic. Charly had returned to William and Mary early
in the morning, so Vic had missed him.

'People are sensitive to things like this, Victoria. You don't just go
around dressing up a religious icon like the Virgin Mary."

"Everything was really okay. Her barbecue apron was clean, her chef's hat perfect, and all her cooking utensils were clean, too. You
would have been pleased at her turnout." Vic's green eyes lit up as she
described the statue. "She looked just like one of the girls. I even
thought I'd change her outfit to go with the season. You know, a Wil
liam and Mary sweatshirt for football games, a pennant, maybe a wrap
around skirt and a TriDelt pen for rush week."

R. J. laughed. She couldn't help herself. "Honey, the Virgin Mary
would be a Kappa Kappa Gamma."

"Without a doubt."

R. J. leaned forward and kissed her daughter on the cheek. "Oh,
well—no harm done, I guess."

"Uh, that's not exactly all that happened."

R. J. straightened her shoulders. "Oh?"

"The monsignor saw me. Anyway, he went to the dean." She
paused. "And to make a long story short, I'm expelled."

"What? Oh, Vic, you can't be." R. J.'s dismay was palpable. Piper licked her hand.

"I suppose I could have lied my way out of it, but that didn't seem
right. I did it."

"But it's such an extreme punishment."

"Yeah, it is. But after the Alpha Tau stuff, I guess they figured they
had to crack down. So . . ." She shrugged.

R. J. leaned against the sink. "This is just terrible. Your father and I
will go right down there. We'll talk to the dean. We'll talk to the president if we have to. You are so close to graduating and . . ."

"Don't. Mom, please don't."

"Listen, young lady, in the state of Virginia there are only two diplomas that matter, William and Mary or the University of Virginia.
I guess we can haul you over to Charlottesville."

"No. I'll figure this out. If I had to go somewhere else, I'd rather it
be Tech."

"Tech? What in the world are you thinking?" R. J.'s face turned red.
"Next you'll tell me you want to go to VMIi" R. J. sat down and put her
head in her hands. "What are we going to tell your father?"

"The truth." Vic stood behind her mother, her hand on her
shoulder.

"Of course, we'll tell him the truth, dammit, it's just how we'll tell
him. And Bunny. Lord, it will be all over town. I suppose Jinx knows
everything."

"Yes."

"Regina will worm it out of her. We might as well put an advertise-

ment in the Norfolk paper." A hint of sarcasm flickered from R. J.

"It's not like I've killed anyone. All I did was create Mary's barbecue."
R. J. swiveled around, looking up at her daughter. "I guess that's

how we know Mary is Catholic. If she were an Episcopalian, she'd be
wearing a pink and green dress with three strands of pearls and match
ing earrings, and she'd be holding a cocktail." She let out a small laugh.
"Which reminds me, you'll have to talk to Father Dermott about this."

"Mom, we're Episcopalians. Why do I have to talk to him?"

"Because we live here and because the word will fly around this
country like a balloon with the wind escaping. You don't want the good
father to think you're sacrilegious."

"I am sacrilegious, sort of."

"You can keep that to yourself."

"You really think I have to call on him?"

"Of course you do."

"Couldn't we send all the Catholics back to Maryland?"

R. J. pulled Vic into a kitchen chair. "You're being a bad girl."
"Yes." Vic showed no sign of remorse.

R. J. grew solemn. "Honey, you have to finish college."

"No."

R. J. folded her hands together. "What has gotten into you?"
"I don't know exactly. Just let me find a job."

"Here?"

"Well, I could look in Williamsburg." Vic was trying to find the
right way to approach her mother about what she really wanted to do.
"To be close to Charly?"

"That wouldn't hurt," Vic mumbled unconvincingly. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me why he was here?"

"To pay a call. And have you considered that you might not get a job in town after your escapade?"

"No one knows about it other than the monsignor and the dean."
"I see." She drew a deep breath. "And what does Charly say about
this?"

"He's upset."

"I would expect that Jinx is upset, too."

"She thinks I'm bone stupid."

"Yes, well, she has a point there." R. J. leaned toward Vic. "Were
you alone in this achievement?"

"Sure. Who else would be so dumb?"

"I can think of at least two other people and given your power of
persuasion, probably more."

"It was just me."

"What on earth got into you?"

"You already asked me that, and I said I didn't know."

"Oh, Victoria Vance, you don't just go out and tape barbecue forks to the Virgin Mother's hands."

"Didn't you ever just do something for the hell of it? You were
bored or you were full of yourself or the moon was full? I don't have a
reason. I wasn't an abused child. My parents weren't alcoholic. I just
took a notion," Vic said firmly.

R. J. studied her eldest, noting the strong jaw, the determination
underlying her beauty. "Actually, dear, I have taken few notions in
my life, and I think I'm the poorer for it. I have tried to be logical, effi
cient, and organized. There have been times when I've bored myself silly."

"You've never bored anyone else."

"Thank you, dear, that's a pretty thing to say." R. J. leaned back in
her chair with a flop. "Your father is going to be fit to be tied. And
your sister will think it's too, too divine." She looked out the window
_;
the river was still stirred up. "Are you in love with Charly?"

"Where did that come from?"

"From the heart." R. J. knew in her bones that something was dif
ferent. When she and Frank were first together they were besotted
with one another. She hadn't observed that in Vic. She had observed it
in Charly.

"I thought you liked him."

"I do. It's just—oh, I don't know." R. J. reached for her Lucky
Strikes.

"I know why he came over, Mom."

"Did he tell you?"

"No, he didn't."

"Then maybe you don't know why he paid a call."

"I'm not stupid."

"That, from a girl who's just gotten herself thrown out of college in
her senior year over a prank. You might want to revise your statement."

"Yes, well . . . Look, do you think if I marry Charly, his family will settle money on us?"

"Yes," R. J. stated flatly.

"Would my marrying him help you?"

"I don't know. I don't know what you two will do with your money."
"Aunt Bunny always implied that it would help the family."

A flash of irritation crossed R. J.'s face. "She doesn't know what

she's talking about. And since when have you listened to Bunny?"
"I'm worried about money. I'm worried about Surry Crossing."
"Don't. I told you to get through school. It's not your concern."

R. J.'s voice rose.

"It is if you're going to kill yourself worrying and working." Vic's tone matched her mother's.

"Do I look like I'm at death's door?"

"No."

"All right, then."

"Mom, do you want me to get married?"

A long silence followed.

"I want you to be happy. He's a wonderful young man. When
you're young, a husband seems easy to find, but as you go along in life
you discover there aren't that many people who will go the distance.
So many things go into the equation: physical attraction and ethics
and temperament and sense of humor and well, so many things."

"Is marriage important to you?"

"For you?"

"For me and in general, I suppose." Vic folded her hands.

Another long silence followed, finally broken by R. J. after she ex
haled a plume of smoke. "I think it's important to be married if one is
going to have children. After that, I don't know. I used to be quite sure
of all these things, but having seen some ugly, ugly divorces among my
friends . . . all I can say is if children are part of your dream, then it is important. I suppose my advice is, look before you leap. But then, you
know Charly. You've been dating him for over a year, you worked to
gether last summer. You say you love him. And I assume you want children some day."

"If they turn out like Mignon, I'm not so sure."

"She's a good kid."

"Yeah," Vic grudgingly replied. "Actually, she's grown up a lot
lately."

"It comes in fits and starts. I'm still growing. I think you never stop
if you're lucky."

"Why did you want to know if I love Charly?"

"I've known you longer than anyone on earth, honey. I became ac
quainted with you in the womb." She smiled. 'Correct me if I'm wrong,
but I don't think you love him quite as much as he loves you."

Vic's heart thumped against her rib cage. Was this the time to tell her mother? Did she have the courage? She'd just told R. J. she'd got
ten her ass kicked out of school. It would be a lot at one time. "Mother, I think women love differently than men."

R. J. appraised Vic. "You're very diplomatic."

"Don't you think it's true?"

"No. Love is love, and it may never be in an equal balance between
people. I don't think men love more or women love more. I love your
father, for instance, and I know he loves me. Sometimes he loves more
and sometimes I love more. There's no rhyme or reason to it that I can
fathom. Men and women may show their love differently. Men want
to provide, want to be heroes, but then I've seen plenty of women be
heroes, too. But you know if there is that rolling passion like the tide,
you can feel it. I don't feel that from you."

Vic closed her eyes and then slowly opened them. "Because it's not
there."

"I see."

"But I do love him, Mother, I do. I love who he is. I love his body.
I love his mind."

"But you're always in control of your own emotions."

"Yes."

"Love and reason aren't compatible." R. J. reached for her pack of Luckies, tapping out another one, lighting it with the stub of her first
cigarette. "Honey, maybe if we were reasonable, no two people would
ever get together. If you think about the demands of marriage, of a
close relationship, I don't know if anyone would ever enter into it.
Love is blind. It has to be."