We all live with expectations, whether we realize and acknowledge them or not. Our expectations define the way that we think our world should be, the way things should go. Some expectations are obvious. When you walk into a restaurant, you expect someone to serve you a plate of food. When you go to school, you expect to be bored out of your mind (I mean, learn something). You go to a shoe store, you expect them to sell shoes, not handguns.
So when you get dragged into the Bienville County Jail for drinking under age, what do you expect from the authority figure who shows up to bail your behind out? An endless lecture and punishment up the wazoo. And if you’re a Magnolia Maid, you expect to be kicked off the Court, then sent home for more punishment from your God-fearing, authority-respecting Southern parents.
Me, I was convinced we were going to be fine, but the girls were terrified. The minute Uncle Walter showed up, Ashley dropped the catfight and switched into full damage-control mode. “Oh, Uncle Walter, I don’t know why that officer stopped us!” “Yes, we did each have a little teeny-weenie drink but all those big bottles must have been Daddy’s, I don’t know where they came from! I’m so worried that Zara’s in trouble, Uncle Walter. Please say it isn’t so!” Of course, she was trying to cover her own butt, but she was at least covering everyone else’s in the process.
Mallory also went into hysterics mode when Uncle Walter came in. She was so panicked about losing the opportunity to wear her antebellum dress and represent Bienville that she wept uncontrollably as we were escorted into an investigation room. “Please don’t kick us off the Maids. Please don’t take this away from us! I’ll just die if you take this away from us! Just die!”
The rest of us remained quiet.
There were only four chairs in the interrogation room (just like in the one Kyra Sedgwick uses to interview people of interest on The Closer—God bless her and her totally fake Georgia accent). Walter Murray Hill gestured for us all to take a seat, and everyone did except me and Zara. We repaired to opposite corners, like prizefighters waiting for the bell to announce the first round.
Standing at the head of the table, Walter Murray Hill loomed above us. “Girls. Maids,” he corrected himself. “This is a night that will go down in Magnolia Maid history.”
“I knew it!” weeped Mallory. “No Maid has ever been arrested before. We’re the first ones. It’s a travesty!”
“It is true that this is the first time I have ever in my life gotten out of my bed in the middle of the night to bail a bevy of Magnolia Maids out of jail. I have on more than one occasion bailed out my sons and their wayward friends, but you girls.” He shook his head. “I thought y’all had more sense than this, okay.” One by one, we hung our heads in shame.
Walter Murray Hill sighed deeply. “Maids, I knew changing up the Court was going to be hard. Many of my acquaintances and colleagues told me time and again that the way things were was fine. ‘Walter, why go rocking the boat, okay,’ they said. ‘Let’s run things the way we always have.’ To those people I have said, Bienville’s ready. We can do it. Let’s leave the past behind. Move into the future.”
Mr. Walter paused and looked us each in the eye. “But I may have made a mistake here, okay. I did not take into consideration how hard this was going to be on you all. Ashley, Mallory, your expectations about what this year was going to look like were not met, and you’ve had a hard time bonding with the other girls.”
They nodded, though their agreement lacked the fervor and anger of their initial reaction at the pageant all those weeks ago.
“Zara.” Walter Murray Hill turned to her. “You being a newcomer to town, and Jane, your having been away so long, well, it’s affected your ability to fit in. Brandi Lyn, I sure am sorry to hear about your money situation. That’s a real issue, it sure is, and I didn’t take that into account when I approved you. Caroline, I know it’s not easy for you, what with your mother being the sponsor.” He sighed again. “I kept thinking, though, this group of girls, they’re interesting. Modern. They’re going to be able to do a lot for us here in Bienville. You proved that right with the fund-raiser, that’s for sure. And I thought with time you’d all be able to pull it together. But what happened tonight…” He closed his eyes. “Tells me I made a mistake. A big one. Do you have any idea how many rules in the handbook you just broke?”
I raised my hand. “Four. Drinking while wearing the dress, driving while wearing the dress, wearing the dress on an outing not approved by the organization, getting arrested while wearing the dress.”
“That is correct, Jane. And one of those is a crime. Do you have any idea what I’ve just had to do to convince the police not to book you? Mizz Upton was right. This is the most unfit group of Maids I have ever encountered. Which is why I’m considering disbanding the organization for the year.”
Boy, when he said that, you could have heard a hoopskirt drop, it was so quiet. We were all a little shocked by Walter Murray Hill’s announcement. This was so much more serious than what I had seen coming.
And we may have been completely and totally mad at each other, but there ain’t nothing like a group of Magnolia Maids on the verge of being disbanded. No way were we going to let this end now.
“No, Mr. Walter, please don’t!”
“We’ll never do anything like this again!”
“I know we’re difficult, Mr. Walter, but we can do this!”
“We are modern!”
“The fund-raiser is only the beginning of what we are capable of!”
“We can live up to your expectations!”
“Are you kidding? We can surpass them!”
We were such a whirling dervish of ferocious persuasion, Walter Murray Hill couldn’t keep up with us. He held his hands out to shut us up. “I hear you! I hear you! I want to give you all another chance. I want this to work, too. But there are going to be some ground rules, okay.” He cleared his throat. “Number one. I do not—repeat DO NOT—want Martha Ellen Upton to hear word one about this. I do NOT want it in the gossip columns. I’ve talked to the boys out there about making sure this thing stays private, and they’ve agreed. You girls do your part and keep your mouths shut. Don’t tell a soul. I mean anyone. Not your parents, your siblings, your friends, your boyfriends. The first phone call I get with somebody asking about Magnolia Maids being hauled to jail, I will disband you. Do you understand?”
We couldn’t yell “Yes, sir!” fast enough. This was really good news, and we all knew it. The fact that Mr. Walter was powerful enough to control the small-town gossip mill was going to make life a whole lot easier.
“Number two. You girls are going to sponsor an alcohol-education course for teens as one of your charity events, and you’re going to actually take the class yourselves.” Oh, I had to hand it to Mr. Walter. Make it look like we were helping the community, when we were really saving ourselves from a future as lushes? Genius.
“Number three. I need you to elect a queen by Saturday, okay. Number four. If anything else happens like this again…”
“We know,” said Ashley.
“We’ll be the first Court in history to be disbanded,” said Mallory.
“Exactly. Now don’t you ever let me catch you here again.”
As he escorted us out of the police station, Walter Murray Hill chuckled. “You know, Maids,” he said. “You girls have spark and passion. You remind me of the first girl who ever asked me when was I going to integrate the Court.”
“Really?” Mallory leapt on this information like a rooster on a hen. “A Maid asked you to integrate? I never knew that!”
“A queen, as a matter of fact. She said, ‘Mr. Walter, how can we say that we truly represent the city of Bienville, which is a wonderfully diverse place, if we only have wealthy white girls on the Court? It’s just not right, Mr. Walter,’ she told me.” Melancholy invaded his words as he shook his head. “I’ve heard her voice in my head every one of the twenty-five years it’s taken me to get up the gumption to do it.”
“Who was she?” Mallory asked. “The maid who asked you?”
Walter Murray Hill put his hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eye. “Cecilia Fontaine. Jane’s mom.”