“Congratulations,” she said, smiling, as she turned to go back to her seat.
“Traveling!” shouted Bridget sitting two tables over. She looked around eagerly for where the bracelet had gotten to. Angie turned back to Dot who was slowly sliding the bracelet back off, trying not to look disappointed.
“It didn’t even have time to cool off,” said Angie, smiling at Dot before handing the bracelet over to Bridget and retaking her seat.
“Did I tell you?” said Julia, “Roger’s been offered a scholarship to Sutler, right out of the blue!” Roger was Julia’s tall, curly haired twelve year old son. Wallis liked him. He was easy to get along with and would talk to her about what was going on in his life. Wallis always felt privileged to get a peek inside of any middle school life.
“Really? Somebody just called you up and asked if Roger wanted to go there?” asked Ginger. “Wow, you must be living right.”
“Well, it wasn’t exactly out of the blue,” said Julia, talking a little too fast. Wallis felt a sense of dread coming over her, sensing what Julia was about to lay out before her.
“Sam and I have been talking to this group for a few years,” she said.
“Group?” asked Dot.
“Yeah, like the Masons, except they’re called The Stewards. They do good works for children. They’ve been around for hundreds of years. Anyway, they took an interest in Sam and have been helping us get him ahead.”
“How did you meet them in the first place?” asked Dot. Wallis watched each of the women, keeping her silence, making herself take measured breaths. She didn’t say a word, too worried that in her attempts to disguise her growing dread her voice would come out too controlled, too calculating.
“Tina introduced me to one of their Watchers at a tea she had. Roger must have been around nine. I’ve mentioned it before, when he got into cotillion at the Women’s Club? Remember?”
“Oh yeah, I thought Pamela helped you get in.”
“She did. She wrote a letter.”
“Watcher?” interrupted Ginger, “That sounds a little creepy. Why are they called Watchers?”
“Who knows,” said Julia. “You know how those old societies are, they like their drama. All I know is they’ve made our lives a little easier and helped Roger. All I need to know.”
“They haven’t asked you to join?”
“Nope. Apparently they have rules about joining if they’re helping your child. If you’re really interested Tina’s having another tea in a few weeks. She said I could invite y’all. You want to come, Wallis? Ned would be about the right age. They like to get them young,” she said, smiling.
Julia reached into her purse on the floor by her feet and pulled out several invitations, offering them to the women at the table. Dot grabbed at one of the stiff cream-colored engraved cards.
“They only accept a handful, mostly boys, big surprise, but I figure even if you only end up with a little help, it couldn’t hurt, right? You want one, Wallis? You’re awfully quiet. Looking for the loopholes?” She held a card out to Wallis.
Wallis slowly took the card and smiled back at Julia. She was working hard to press the anger back down inside of her. The effort was taking its toll and she could feel some of it seeping out of the sides.
“And they want nothing in return?” she said, a little louder than she had intended. The sound of dice hitting plastic tablecloths stopped for a moment as the collection of women looked toward Wallis. “They don’t have expectations about what your child might become?”
“No...No,” mumbled Julia. “It’s just guidance.” Her voice had taken on a slight whine, so unlike her. “It’s hard to give your children everything you want to these days.”
“Or even everything we had,” said Yvette from another table. A grumbled murmur of approval rolled around the room. Wallis breathed in slowly, held her breath for a moment and let it back out.
“Fred wants nothing to do with it,” said Maureen. “He was put through that whole rigmarole as a child and he said it stops with him. Well, that and we have no children,” she said with a laugh.
“Sorry,” said Wallis, trying to give Julia’s hand a reassuring pat. Her head was pounding. “Long day and I guess I’m still partly in lawyer mode. I’m sure you checked it out.”
Her last words were more of a warning that she was hoping Julia would remember.
“My grandfather was a Shriner,” said Ginger, picking up the dice. “Always had to wear the little fez in pictures. So proud of it. I don’t understand any of it, but if it’s helping kids get ahead it can’t be all bad. Oh, twenty one!” She rang the bell.
Wallis won the random drawing that night, taking home a large purple candle. She walked to her car slowly looking around for anyone lurking by the bushes but the street seemed empty. She felt badly about how the night had turned out. The conversation had never managed to reach the same level of good-natured fun after her comments.
Chapter Fifteen