Page 95 of The Wedding Favor

A hand appeared, a chocolate kiss in the center of the palm. I snatched it and unwrapped it.

“They win. You aren’t going to let them win,” I repeated, sounding more like a snotty twelve-year-old than a grown adult. I was glaring at him in silence when Hallie slid into her seat, smiling and a little sweaty.

“Hal, Iris told me about the pageant,” Abe said carefully. “And how all the others are in it.”

Her grin slipped. She picked up her napkin and ripped off a tiny piece. “Yeah.”

“Would you like to be in it, too? It could be fun.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t think I’m really a pageant kind of girl.”

I cut her off, feeling anger surge again at this sweet little girl thinking she wasn’t good enough. Not on my watch. “You remember when I talked to Audrina’s stepmom today?”

She nodded.

“Well, I might have told her that you and I were entering the pageant.”

Hallie’s mouth dropped open. “We are?”

“It’s up to you,” Abe said. “Whatever you want to do.”

“But…Audrina said…”

“I don’t care what Audrina said. We can enter if we want. We might not win but we can sure show them they are so wrong about us.” Revenge was as good a reason as any to do this pageant.

She swallowed. “I sort of want to, but I’m kind of scared.”

“You know what?” I said. “I’m scared, too. We’ll be scared together. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Abe smiled. “That’s my girls.”

THIRTY-SIX

“If it’s worth competing, it’s worth competing to win.”

—excerpt from the unpublished memoir,

Darling, I Must Say by Gloria Hayes

The next day, Hallie and I headed to City Hall to sign up for the pageant. It was a long, squat gray-brick building, à la the sixties. Except not cool sixties; tired, worn-out sixties. Inside wasn’t a whole lot better. Gray vinyl flooring, mustard-colored accents. A large statue of indeterminable shape in the center of the open foyer. I still couldn’t figure out what it was supposed to be, but it was titled The Essence of All Things.

We headed to the Parks and Recreation office, Hallie chattering away about the kind of dress she wanted to find. Purple, of course.

“What can I do for you ladies?” Margie Rone asked. Margie had worked here in this office for decades. Her hair was dyed such a pale red it looked pink and it matched the bright pink lipstick she favored almost exactly.

“We want to sign up for the pageant,” Hallie said.

“We?” Her eyes darted to me and grew impossibly wide. “You’re both signing up?”

“Yes.” I crossed my arms. “Is there a problem?”

“No, no. It’s absolutely fine. Let me just…” She pulled some paperwork from a filing cabinet next to her and began placing them on the counter. “Here is the official sign-up form. We just need to know a little more about you. We’ll need this back by the end of the week. With the entrance fee.” A second sheet followed. “This here shows when all the rehearsals are.”

“That’s a lot of rehearsals,” I said. Especially for a small-town pageant that was happening in a month.

“This is the last one.” Margie slid another paper across the counter. “It’s a list of things you’ll need—outfits, shoes, that sort of thing.”