Ashanti tugged the ruffled skirt across the front of the ten-inch-high platform, then stopped when Kara yelled, “My left, not your left!”
“Really, Kara?”
“Just leave it where it is, Boss Lady,” Deja said as she sailed past carrying an armful of crowns in various sizes and colors.
“Yeah, Deja’s right. It’s fine where it is,” Kara said. “Besides, we have other things to do. People will start showing up soon. Did you decide if you’re going to double the ticket price at the door?”
“We are not charging people twenty bucks to see a dog pageant, no matter how cute the dogs are,” Ashanti said.
“It’s for charity!”
“No, Kara. We have the silent auction. That will bring in extra money for Budd’s Bed and Bark.”
The last two years the proceeds from Barkingham Palace’s Doggone Cute Pageant had been divided among the various animal rescues around the city, but this year Ashanti hadturned it into a benefit for one of her competitors. The Mid-City boarding and grooming spot had suffered a devastating fire. She figured it was good karma, and hoped the same would be done for her business if she ever found herself in a similar situation.
She stepped up on the stage and surveyed the larger play area. She had done her best to achieve the look of the Throne Room at Buckingham Palace while staying within her fifty-dollar decorating budget. They’d covered the walls with red plastic tablecloths from the dollar store and borrowed gold brocade drapes from Deja and Leslie’s great-aunt’s formal living room. Posterboard cutouts of filigree spray-painted in gold completed the look.
“What about the seating for the kids from St. Peter Claver’s Youth Choir?” Kara asked. “Should I rope it off?”
Another thing Ashanti did was pick a youth group to serve as special guests and judges for the pageant. This year’s guest was the choir at the church she’d attended as a child. She hadn’t been to Mass in years, but she still showed the congregation love when she could.
“Run to my office and print up threeRESERVEDsigns. We’ll tape them to the back of the chairs on the first three rows. That should be good enough.”
Everything seemed to be falling into place. Mark and Colleen, the trainer and groomer on staff, were in the staging area with the dogs who would be taking part in today’s pageant. The only thing missing was a certain poodle whose absence had been felt by the entire staff all week, but especially by her sweet Duchess.
It had taken a couple of days for Duchess to recognize something was wrong. She was used to Puddin’ not beingaround over the weekend, which had been standard before Mrs. Frances went into the hospital, so Ashanti figured that’s what accounted for her lack of concern Tuesday and Wednesday. However, by Thursday afternoon, Duchess wouldn’t go more than ten minutes without running to the door of the small dog play area. At mealtime, she waited at Puddin’s usual spot. Last night, she paced back and forth in Ashanti’s room, a clear sign of anxiety. It was heartbreaking.
Duchess wasn’t the only one missing Puddin’. Kara had sent screenshots of messages they’d received this week from loyal viewers of the webcam who had jumped to the awful conclusion that Puddin’ had crossed over the Rainbow Bridge. When Kara responded that Puddin’ was fine, but no longer attending the daycare, the responses had all been the same, disappointment. Some were even angry, as if they were paying Puddin’s daycare bill and had a say in any of this. Entitlement ran rampant on social media.
Ashanti had considered calling Mrs. Frances and begging her to send Puddin’ back to daycare, free of charge. But she knew it wasn’t her place to get involved. Her grandson was Puddin’s caretaker now, and she certainly would not beg him for anything.
Kara returned with theRESERVEDsigns and the fake gold and ruby scepter from the chew toy display in the lobby.
“You can’t have a pageant without this,” she said, handing it to Ashanti. “Now, are you sure you can handle going live on Instagram?” she asked.
Ashanti used the scepter to make a cross over her heart. “Promise. I practiced this morning while finishing up the latest order for Duchess Delights. One of the viewers suggested we add CBD oil to them.”
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Kara said. She pointed an accusatory finger at her. “But you didn’t clear going live with me. Let’s not make a habit of that.”
“Let’s remember who owns this business,” Ashanti said.
“Touché.” Kara taped the last sign to the back of a chair, then spun around to survey the room. “This doesn’t look half bad. I’m sorry I’ll miss it.”
“You have more important things to do,” Ashanti reminded her.
“I know.” She rolled her eyes. “The SAT prep class ends at six, but I might go to the movies after.”
“Is Kendra going with you?”
“Why are you asking when you already know the answer?”
“Invite her to go with you,” Ashanti said.
“Look, I love my twin sister like I love my Nike Air Maxes with the magenta laces, but she is not the best company these days. Besides, even if I begged her to come, she would still blow me off.” She shrugged. “She’s just in a bad mood. She’ll get over it.”
Ashanti knew she was right. But Kendra’s moodiness seemed more extreme these days. She’d been giving her this stank attitude for at least two weeks now, and Ashanti was over it.
“Fine,” she said. “But text me when you get to the movie and when it lets out.”
