Page 97 of The Wedding Favor

“If you must.” She stood, her caftan floating around her like a striped cloud. “I’m done with this puzzle. Shall we walk?”

“That would be my cue to leave. Bye, Mary.”

“Bye, sweetie. And good job fighting the patriarchy.”

I grinned. “Thanks.”

It took twenty minutes to get back to her room after stopping to talk to every resident in the place. Gloria couldn’t stand to pass someone without starting a conversation. It was funny, really, that we were friends, seeing as how she was a social butterfly, and I’d rather sit in a corner by myself.

“You know, you could be a tiny bit more friendly,” Gloria said when we entered her room.

“I am friendly.”

She tsked and settled herself into her throne chair. “I’ve said it before. You need a life and by that, I do not mean a life of crime.”

“I like my life.” I lied.

“Yes, darling, what’s not to love? Single, directionless, living with your mother, spending your free time with all those old people, present company excluded. It’s the stuff of dreams.”

“You are so good for my ego, bestie.” I plopped on her bed and stretched out, resting my head on my stacked hands. Gloria glared at me, one elegantly sculpted eyebrow raised. (The eyebrows were drawn on but done so in a very classy way.) I made a big deal about toeing off my shoes. They dropped to the floor with a thud.

“Thank you.” She sniffed. “I do sometimes wonder if you were raised by animals.”

“I wish. Animals don’t hold stupid pageants.”

“What in the world are you talking about?”

I pulled a pillow over my face and mumbled a reply.

“I cannot understand a word you’re saying.”

With a sigh, I pulled the pillow off. “I entered the Miss Two Harts pageant.”

Perhaps it was her theatrical training but Gloria was very good at keeping her emotions in check. Still I could not miss her look of astonishment. “But why?”

“Spite. Revenge. Proving them all wrong.”

“I am speechless.”

I frowned. “It is really that hard to picture me in a pageant?”

“In a word, yes.”

I sat up and crossed my arms. “Hallie and I are doing it together. I know I won’t win and I don’t want to but I am out to prove I could if I wanted to.”

“So, you plan to make a mockery of the whole thing?”

“No. I’m just not playing to win.”

“I am disappointed. If it’s worth competing, it’s worth competing to win.” She snapped her fingers. “That was a good one. Write that one down.”

I dutifully followed directions. “Are you ever going to write this memoir?”

“I’ll get around to it someday. I have time.”

I gave her pointed look. “Do I need to remind you that you’re eighty-se⁠—”

“No, you do not. You’re very insolent today. It is not a good look on you.” Quite suddenly, she studied me with narrowed eyes. “I think this pageant will be good for you. For example, you can work on that terrible posture and finally wear something besides all that ghastly black.”