“Okay. The motion’s been seconded.” Roland rapped his knuckles on the table. “The treasurer can write a check to give to the band director so he can replace the stolen instruments before the Fiesta parades. Is there any other business?”
Jessie followed Roland’s serious gaze around the room, and once again was surprised at the variety of men who called themselves alumni of St. Joseph High School. They were dressed in everything from tailored suits to faded jeans and black T-shirts decorated with famous rock groups. Every skin tone, color of hair, and muscular build was apparent in the group. She discovered many of the faces were familiar from her cheerleader days, and others she knew through her brothers. As Gilbert, Vincent, and Joe—even Roland—introduced her to some members of the group, she was received with smiles, frowns, raised eyebrows, teasing, skeptical glances, and noncommittal shrugs.
Although Roland smiled politely, she sensed he was still doubtful of her presence. Even now, his black eyes briefly touched hers before he introduced her to speak to the group at large. A tiny shiver of apprehension ran down her spine.
“Some of you have had the chance to meet the new development director, Jessie Medina. She is replacing Brother William Daniels. All of you know he’s too ill to continue in the job. Now, Brother William highly recommends Ms. Medina. And he feels she can be a good development director for St. Joe’s.”
Jessie lowered her eyes, biting her lip to keep from smiling. Roland, too, was guilty of using Brother William’s name to get what he wanted. But he probably dropped the name so no one would blame him if Jessie fell flat on her pom-poms.
She raised her eyes confidently. She had every intention of succeeding, and by the end of the meeting, everyone, especially Roland Tovías, would understand her role at St. Joe’s.
Jessie stood up as Roland sat down. Rather than stand behind the small round table where she sat alone for the early part of the meeting, she moved directly to the long table where the executive board sat and stood beside it. She gave Roland a polite smile, then turned her attention to the group.
Her legs trembled, and her shoes suddenly seemed too big. She forced herself to breathe regularly despite her drumming heart. She straightened the blazer of her suit.
“As Roland told you, I’m Jessie Medina. I’m the new development director for St. Joseph High School. I’ll begin by telling you I’m a little nervous about being in such a minority, but as I told the Student Council this afternoon, maybe I can bring a new point of view into the school because I am female. I met with Roland on two occasions prior to this meeting, and I admitted to him that I am not Super Woman.”
A rumble of laughter rippled over the group.
“A development director is a coordinator. I’m here because I want to coordinate with you, the alumni, with the students and their parents, and everyone else who cares about education. I want to coordinate a major effort to keep St. Joe’s open.”
Jessie slipped her hands into the side pockets of her blue skirt. “You are all aware that the archdiocese pulled out its financial support about fifteen years ago. Since then, it’s been the hard work of parents, students, and faculty, and alumni, of course, who have managed to keep the school open. Because of the economy, though, costs have gone up, and, unfortunately, St. Joe’s enrollment is down. Even though tuition is raised every year, it isn’t enough to offset the budget deficit.”
Jessie pulled a small index card from her pocket and used her notes to guide her. “The actual tuition to educate a boy at St. Joe’s is short by seven hundred dollars per student. Small fundraisers have usually made up this difference, but St. Joe’s is different now from the way it was ten years ago, and the changes have cost the school big money. First of all, there are fewer religious brothers and sisters teaching at St. Joe’s, and this year two more of the brothers are retiring. A lay person’s teaching salary is a necessary expense, and if we want to keep good teachers in the school, we have to pay them a fair salary. We also have two computer labs at St. Joe’s now, and operating them has been expensive. And just like in other schools, vandalism is a problem. St. Joe’s installed a security system two years ago, which has helped tremendously, but once again, it’s another expense taxing the school budget.” She folded the card between her fingers, and paused as her eyes caught the serious faces watching her. “The bottom line, gentlemen, is that St. Joe’s is in a desperate financial situation, and if we can’t get enrollment up, and establish a continuous program for fundraising, this school won’t survive.
“Now there are two things I can do for St. Joe’s,” Jessie said. “The first thing I want is to get the school in the media. Let people hear about St. Joe’s. Let them see what a good job we do here. No one’s done any public relations for this school in a long time, and this is one of my first priorities. Now, the second thing I can do is coordinate a fundraiser that will get us in the public eye as well as raise big money. I have spoken with a few people about organizing a benefit concert for the school.”
A stocky man wearing a work shirt and jeans raised his hand. “Do you know anything about organizing a concert?”
Jessie smiled. “I know it takes hard work and a lot of good people. In my last job, I assisted my company in sponsoring three of them, but, once again, I didn’t do it alone.”
Another man raised his hand. “Do you know someone who would do a benefit for us?”
“Not yet. But I hope to meet him tomorrow night. It turns out that Badger McCloud, the country-western singer, came to St. Joe’s for a year. Brother William knows him. Taught him, as a matter of fact. I was able to get two backstage passes to Badger’s Austin concert, and Brother William and I are going to talk to him.”
There was a buzz of excited voices in the room, and Jessie beamed with optimism.
“I have a friend who works at KYCK radio. If Badger agrees to come to San Antonio and do a concert for us, that station will serve as a sponsor station. I’ve spoken to Tom Mikesell of Champion Foods. They’re ready to donate two thousand dollars towards general expenses. Jo Macías from Blanco Distribution has pledged another five hundred. Alison Gonzales from Alamo Graphics is willing to donate all the printed materials we’ll need. And I’m willing to bet that some of you work for companies who could be approached about donating goods or services as well as money for the concert.”
“When you will have this concert?” someone called out.
Jessie took a deep breath, and tried to steady herself for the explosion she knew would follow her words. “Memorial Day weekend.”
“That’s when we have the softball tournament!”
“No way!”
“Leave it to a woman to pick such a lousy time!”
“It’s a great fund raiser. How can you cancel it?”
Everyone started talking at once. Actually everyone starting complaining at the same time.
Out of the corner of her eye, Jessie saw Roland stand up.
Quickly, Jessie walked forward, away from Roland who would take away her opportunity to handle her own problems, and closer to the grumbles, complaints, curse words, and sighs. She raised her hands, and spoke in a loud voice.
“Wait a minute. Wait a minute! Listen to me, gentlemen.” She spoke louder, so that she could be heard. “I know that’s the week-end of the annual softball tournament. The tournament won’t be canceled. We’ll just move it to another week-end.”
“But, it’s a three day week-end! The guys from out of town count on that extra time to drive back.”
“For twenty years it’s been on Memorial Day weekend.”
“You just can’t break that tradition.”
Jessie stood there, feeling like she landed on another planet. She found it difficult to understand why the tournament meant so much to the men. Couldn’t they see how unimportant it was in the grand scheme of things?
“I’d like to know—” Someone with a deep voice cut through the general grousing. “I’d like to know what you guys plan to do if the school closes and we have no place to play softball next year.”
Jessie wanted to kiss the man who spoke. Not only did she say the same thing to Roland two days ago, but the loud booming voice made the others quiet down.
“Gentlemen, St. Joe’s needs a big fund raiser to get the community involved,” she said in an enthusiastic tone. “Memorial Day weekend is already associated with food and good times for the people who care about the school. We’ll just get everyone to celebrate at our concert, that’s all. The alumni who live out of town can still drive in for a reunion of sorts, but this time no one has to worry about bruises and sore muscles when the weekend is over.”
She smiled towards her brothers who often spent Memorial Day complaining about aches, pains, and hangovers. Gilbert grinned and whispered something to Vincent and Joe. Joe chuckled, then gave Jessie a salute.
“But all this concert stuff is just a bunch of wishful thinking right now, isn’t it?” A tall thin, gray-haired man had stood up in the back of the room. “You’ve got all these plans, but you don’t even have the singer yet. Don’t you think you ought to get something definite before you start canceling our tournament?”
Before Jessie could reply, an older man dressed in a bright red sport shirt waved his stubby tanned hand. “So, you do the concert, and make an extra ten thousand. It still doesn’t help school enrollment. How are you going to get more boys to come here?”
Jessie wasn’t sure which question deserved her attention first. Since the gray-haired man was still standing, she addressed him. “I only wanted to explain my ideas and plans. I’d never cancel anything unless I could replace it with something that could make more money for the school.” She looked at the other man who had spoken. “You asked about enrollment? Brother Edward asked me today if I could form a committee to explore what changes would need to be made so girls could enroll at St. Joe’s School. Going coed—”
She never finished the sentence. Every man in the library had an opinion on allowing girls into the school. Jessie took two steps back, her mind almost numb as she faced growling comments and angry glares from the group. She looked at her brothers for support, but even the three of them had joined their friends in criticizing the idea of opening their old high school to girls.
The noise level increased, and suddenly, Jessie knew exactly how a cat felt when it was cornered by the dogs.
Roland had risen from his chair at the first complaints about the softball tournament. He had anticipated the alumni’s reaction when Jessie mentioned Memorial Day weekend, but he was also impressed when Jessie managed to hold her own among the comments and explain herself. He had to give her credit. She had done her homework, and knew exactly what she needed to say, and the best way to say it so that the men would listen. She kept using that word “coordinate,” and it helped everyone, including Roland, understand that she didn’t want to be an absolute dictator. Instead, she wanted to let everyone do his part to help.
Every muscle in his body tensed when she mentioned the idea of bringing girls into St. Joe’s. He wanted to kick himself for being so stubborn. He should have listened to her and discussed her development plans at length during their meetings. He could have warned her that opening St. Joe’s School to the girls was an option too hot to touch right now.
His fists clenched at his side as he saw the ugly emotions aimed at a female scapegoat, and knew he was partially responsible. Then he saw Jessie throw up her hands as if she had surrendered. She turned her back on the group and walked towards the table where the executive board sat arguing among themselves.
Expecting to see a pale, frightened female, his eyes widened at the shiny brown eyes and her tightly pressed lips, and a pink glow colored her face. She gave Roland such a fiery look that his face suddenly felt sunburned. He could almost read her mind. She was probably thinking that the alumni were chauvinistic jerks, and Roland Tovías was the leader of the pack.
The sound of the library door opening and closing made Roland look over his shoulder. Brother William Daniels, standing by the door, blinked his eyes as if he wasn’t sure he was in the right place.
Roland strode over to the old man.
“What’s going on?” he asked. His gray eyebrows gathered in a frown. “Everybody seems a little upset.”
Roland tried not to let the anger come through his voice. “Didn’t you warn Jessie not to mention going coed? Didn’t you tell her that a lot of guys still don’t want girls in the school?”
“I thought you were going to discuss what to say and not to say at the meeting,” Brother William said, sharpening those blue eyes upon a former student who still had things to learn. “After all, Pointer, didn’t you say the alumni were your responsibility now?”
Brother shuffled past Roland to go to Jessie.
“I blew it, Brother.” Jessie tapped her foot impatiently. “I never should have mentioned raising enrollment by opening the school to girls. I had their support before this. I blew it big!”
Roland stood behind Brother William, and saw the disappointment on Jessie’s face. She had been angry with herself, not the alumni or Roland, but Roland felt guilty nonetheless. He had been too busy making fun of her cheerleading and admiring her pretty face to give her the respect she was due.
Didn’t he want someone smart to take over the development job from Brother William? How could he have been so irresponsible when something so important was at stake?
Roland stepped away from them and walked back to the spot where Jessie had stood only moments before. He had to get the alumni back on track. It was the least he could do.
“I’d like to call this meeting to order.” He raised his voice above the others, placing his hands on his hips. “This is all very stupid. We’re wasting time complaining when we could be outside drinking beer and talking about ways we could help Ms. Medina with her concert idea.”
The grumbling quieted, and Roland’s voice returned to normal. “Now, a lot of you were asking me about Brother William, so I asked him to drop by tonight. Maybe he’d like to say a few words.” He stepped back a half-turn, and looked at Brother, praying that the old man could reclaim the men’s attention, and salvage Jessie’s efforts.
Brother William patted Jessie’s arm. Slowly, he walked up next to Roland.
Roland turned to leave, but Brother William’s skinny fingers wrapped around his wrist. Momentarily, the thin man leaned his shoulder against Roland’s, then turned to the group.
An unfamiliar emotion glided through Roland as he physically supported the man who had been such an instrumental force in the school. Although old age and cancer had robbed Brother William of his health, there was no doubt in Roland’s mind that Brother William could still command the attention of the men in the room.
“I just want to show you fellows that I’m retired, but I’m still kicking!” Brother William’s gaze slowly glided over the room. “I’m too stubborn to die, and I know heaven isn’t ready for an ugly old crab like me!”
The good humor returned to the group as the guys chuckled over the old man’s words.
“Now, I taught most of you. And you know I’m smarter. You know I wouldn’t let you guys down. Ever! I hired a smart woman to take over the Development Office and keep this school going. And I think you’ll all agree she’s a hundred-percent better looking than I am.”
Once again, laughter peppered the group.
“Now, I know that hiring a pretty woman to represent St. Joe’s seems peculiar to a lot of you guys, but let me tell you why I chose Jessie. We had half a dozen people apply for the development job. All of them had great experience and qualifications. But there was one thing that set Jessie apart from everyone else. She had connections to St. Joe’s. She was a cheerleader here, and her father, her brothers, and her cousins went through the school. I knew she cared about the school itself, not just finding a new job. She’s also a clever woman with a lot of new ideas. So I’ll ask you all to work with her, and help her do her job to keep the school going.” He winked, then grinned. “Now, if your president here will adjourn the meeting, there’s a keg of beer waiting on the patio of the Brothers’ Residence.”
“I move we close the meeting!” someone yelled from the back of the room.
“I second that motion!” a deep voice answered.
Roland laughed. “Meeting’s adjourned. Let’s go.” He smiled at Brother William, who gave him a nod. He left the elderly brother talking to two of the alumni, and turned around in search of Jessie. There was so much he wanted to say to her.
She sat at a table writing down the names and phone numbers of men who came to talk to her. He saw her smiling face, and her relaxed bantering with two alumni dressed in suits.
Roland mingled through the group, talking, laughing, and exchanging information. Some alumni made a beeline out the door to walk across the quadrangle and have some beer. He was ready for a beer himself, but waited until Jessie had finished talking to those who wanted to speak to her before he approached. She had tucked her notebook under her arm and seemed to be looking for someone. “Your brothers left with the crowd for the Brothers’ House,” Roland said, coming to lean against her table.
“Of course!” She offered an amused smile. “They tell me that the beer is the best part of the meeting.”
“You’re welcome to come and have a beer with us,” Roland said, hoping he could make a fresh start with her.
He saw her dark eyes narrow as if she was angry, but before he could be sure, she lowered her gaze. “Thank you, but I don’t belong there. St. Joe’s alumni do.”
Her words were a simple statement of fact. He realized that all she had wanted was to explain her job at the meeting, just as she had said. How could he have misjudged her?
“Look, about the last two days—” Roland paused. It wasn’t often he had to admit to a beautiful woman that he had behaved like a jerk. And he didn’t want to discuss his stupidity here. “Jessie, we have a lot to talk about. Maybe I could come by and take you to lunch tomorrow. I’ll treat you to something better than cafeteria food.”
Jessie raised her eyes to look into his. “Sorry. I have a lunch date tomorrow.” A tinge of sarcasm capped her words. “I’m meeting a friend from KYCK radio. He’s an alright guy, even if he did go to St. Michael’s.” She gave him a pointed stare. “I’ll call you next week, after Brother William and I speak to Badger. Good night, Roland.” Without further discussion, she turned away from him and walked out of the school library.
Roland’s blood simmered as it flowed through his body. He had been ready to admit to Jessie that he’d been wrong. He had tried to start a better relationship between them.
Instead, she brings up her lunch date with a—he swallowed the bitter taste of rivalry and jealousy—a St. Michael’s moron! He knew he was being juvenile, but some traditions were too deep to change. He left the library, hoping that a cold beer in a men-only atmosphere would help to improve his mood.
Jessie took a sip of canela from her tea cup, savoring the hot, cinnamon flavor as it trickled down her throat. All the quick thinking, fast talking, and tap dancing around the alumni had been exciting at the time, but now she wanted to do nothing more than unbraid her hair and relax in her favorite pair of thick wooly socks and oversized pink T-shirt. She took another drink, then put the cup back on the saucer. Curling her legs under her, she sat in a big chair in her living room. She leaned her head back into the cushions and sighed.
She had pages of names, phone numbers, and suggestions for concert sponsors in her notebook. She smiled, happy the alumni had accepted her better than Roland had predicted. Even when the meeting exploded after she mentioned enrolling girls, she was smart enough to step back and let Roland regain control. She knew she had lost her audience, and to try and discuss the issue reasonably would have been a waste of time. She would have to talk to more alumni individually, listen to their objections, and try to make them see the economic feasibility of opening the school to girls. She knew from having three brothers, that she had more success when she challenged one brother at a time, rather than trying to battle the trio.
The ring of the telephone in her bedroom broke through the quiet of her apartment. Jessie put her tea cup on the lamp table, and took herself out of the chair. She walked into the bedroom, and sat on her bed, answering the telephone before the third ring.
“This is Roland Tovías.”
A dry feeling crept back into her mouth. She cleared her throat. “Oh, hi.”
“I’m calling because there’s been a slight change of plans. Brother William won’t be going with you to the concert tomorrow night.”
Like a rock falling into a deep well, Jessie’s optimism sank with a weak kerplunk. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“He fell down tonight. Walking back to the Brothers’ House from the school.”
“Is he okay?” she asked with alarm.
“He’ll be fine. He’s just bruised and sore.” Roland’s voice softened. “But he’s in no condition to go with you to Austin, Jessie.”
Jessie closed her eyes. Brother William was her special link to Badger McCloud. She felt so sad, she almost wanted to cry. Then she realized she was being selfish and uncaring. “I’m glad Brother William didn’t get seriously hurt.”
“I told Brother William I could go with you tomorrow.”
“You?” Her eyes flew open. She clutched the telephone receiver tightly. “Why should you go?”
“Brother William asked me to go with you.”
“That man keeps tossing us together, doesn’t he?” She sighed, wondering if the two of them could really work together in the way Brother William wanted.
“Jessie, I—” He paused. “I’ve said a lot of stupid things to you the past few days. I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet and sounded genuinely sincere. “I know you have the school’s best interests at heart. I promise you, Jessie, I’ll get the alumni to help you every way I can.”
His pledge was better than her cup of hot tea to calm her nerves.
“We both want the same things, Roland, even if we have different ways of getting them.”
“I know. Well—when shall I pick you up for the concert?”
Jessie hesitated before answering. The news of Brother’s accident was such a surprise that she hadn’t taken time to come up with another plan of action. She didn’t really need Roland with her, yet the drive to Austin would be more fun with someone to talk to. Maybe if she and Roland distanced themselves from St. Joe’s, they could become more objective about the school situation and the role each should play in keeping it open.
“Brother William and I were planning to leave about three so we could have dinner before the concert,” Jessie said. She heard his groan.
“I can’t leave that early from the garage, Jessie. We’ll leave about five, and I’ll take you to dinner after the concert.”
The proposal was a nice compromise and she smiled. “Shall I meet you at the garage?”
“That would be great. See you tomorrow. Good night.”
“Good night, Roland.”
Jessie put down the phone, then flopped back onto her bed. She reached out and grabbed Señor Oso, her pudgy black bear that had sat on a pillow of her bed since high school. She hugged it close and smiled.