Win. Ha.
THREE
True-blue pageant contestants everywhere would kill to have all of their entry fees covered for an event like the Rose Palace Pageant so, really, I should’ve been grateful when Lacy picked me up for the Aubergine event of the year.
As I packed my overnight bag, tossing in hair ties, extra socks, and a tattered notebook where I sometimes scribbled, my eyes landed on the stack of books that were in the corner of my bedroom, gathering dust. Despite my best efforts to ignore the Laboratory Procedures textbook and the Merck Veterinary Manual, my mind ticked off the months since I’d left my program: fifteen. That’s how long it’d been since I notified Cornell’s registrar’s office about a leave of absence to come home and care for Momma—despite her protests. I’d planned to go back, but it hadn’t happened, and now, if I was lucky, I was about to replace what could’ve been a doctoral degree with a crown. I’d never expected my life to go in this direction.
Finally, I threw a dress and a hairbrush into my bag before plopping onto the front porch in my red pearl-snap, button-down and stained jeans to wait for Lacy.
When she pulled up in front of the house a minute later, I threw my bag in the back seat.
Lacy’s mouth dropped open and she got out of the car to gawk at me. “Are those highlights? And did DeeDee pluck your eyebrows?”
I didn’t answer, even though I was slightly pleased by her reaction. Maybe my aunt’s efforts had worked.
She got back into the car and eyed my bag. “You look amazing, but…” She nodded at my overnight bag. “That’s all you brought?”
“I packed a dress for socializing, and Aunt DeeDee said she’s taking care of the rest.”
Lacy squinted. “What dress qualifies in your mind as fit for ‘socializing’?” A second later her eyes widened as realization struck. “Not the crumpled, polka-dotted green thing you wore out to dinner last month? When I invited that guy you barely said a word to?”
I looked at her but didn’t answer. I didn’t need to further shame myself.
“And where’s your hat?” Lacy asked.
I crossed my arms. “I’m not wearing a hat.”
“Not even a cute little cowgirl thing? That would be adorable.”
“I do not have acute little cowgirl thing,” I reminded her. “I have a real cowboy hat, but apparently, that is unacceptable.”
She let the matter drop—at least for now. “Be glad Aunt DeeDee is on the job,” Lacy mumbled as she shifted her car into gear.
Despite my reluctance about this entire endeavor, I was beginning to feel grateful for my makeover, particularly since nerves were already settling in. At least I wouldn’t look too much the fool, even if I felt like one.
I changed the radio station every minute or two to distract myself until we drove under a tall, arched metal sign that read,The Rose Palace, Home of the World’s Longest-Running Beauty Pageant, where a guard stopped us.
“Hey, Lace,” said the man wearing a shirt that readSecurity. I recognized him just like I did almost everyone else in town, but we’d actually graduated together, even dated for an entire three weeks of our junior year.
I looked over the dashboard and saw spikes on the asphalt and some sort of laser system to keep out unwanted vehicles.
“Hey, Joe.” Lacy showed an official-looking badge and handed him my driver’s license. “Is the rooster in the hen house?”
“Affirmative,” Joe Larson answered with a smile, as he walked around to my side of the car and leaned into the window. “How you doing, Miss Green?”
“I’m thriving,” I said dryly. “Can’t you tell?”
He laughed and took my hand in his, pretending like he was going to kiss it before I yanked it out of his grasp. He chuckled and extended a scanner. I hesitated only a moment before pressing my finger onto it.
“Just need to upload your print to the system,” he said. “Be back in a flash. Don’t miss me too much.”
“What was that about?” I asked Lacy as he sauntered back to his booth.
“Increased security. Mr. Finch has all of these ridiculous code words that we had to memorize in case someone is listening over the comms. His wife is ‘the diamond,’ and his daughter is ‘the rose.’ He’s ‘the rooster,’ and ‘the hen house’ is this place.”
