"Okay, Carrie," I said. "We can talk candidly now. What's up?"
My niece closed her bedroom door then took my hand. I studied her face, her bearing. She had matured a lot in her seven months in college. The cute, awkward teen I last saw in August had become a poised young woman.
"I need a big favor, Uncle Allan."
"I don't have much with me, Carrie," I said, reaching for my wallet. "Fifty, sixty at most. Can your mom help? Or is this another dark secret you have to keep from her?"
"It's not money this time, Uncle Allan. And I am truly, deeply grateful for that earlier favor. I've made sure
that
won't be necessary again....
This
favor involves the sorority I'm pledging. Pi Upsilon Sigma?"
"Carrie, I'm at your mom's house to replace some light switches. Basic wiring I know. Sororities are all Greek to me."
She winced. "I'll forgive that one if you'll listen," she said, patting the bed. I sat, then she did, her thigh against mine.
"This rush season, Pi-Sig violated some obscure rule. Long story short, they pledged more girls than they're allowed to accept, and somebody reported it. Probably Kappa. So Pi-Sig has to lose some pledges.
"They call Pi Upsilon Sigma 'Pi-Sig,' not 'Puss'?" I queried.
"Half the boys on campus call us 'Puss.' Often they add a syllable. Please don't join them."
"Okay."
Carrie ran her hand along my thigh in an innocent, niece-ly way--I guess. A hint of perfume reached me. Her bedroom was warm, and she casually undid a blouse button, giving a glimpse of her youthful breasts. That triggered memories of my sister Ann, her mother.
"So now every pledge has to do something to demonstrate how far she is willing to go to be a Pi-Sig. The leadership wants us to think wild, knock ourselves out. The eight pledges with the lamest demonstrations will be cut; the other 22 are in. I want to be in." She undid another button.
"So what are you going to do?" I asked. "And how can I help?"
