“Sounds like a lot of work,” I said. Regardless, I couldn’t imagine being smitten with any man at this point in my life. “You sure you don’t want to have at him? I’m sure your boyfriend would understand.”
Lacy had started a long-distance relationship with a guy she’d met at a conference a couple years ago. She’d decided to open her new business, so she’d wanted to get all of the contacts and networking and resources that she could find to give herself the best start possible. Lacy had arrived home with all of those things, but also with the phone number of one of the waiters who’d accidentally served her the vegetarian plate instead of the steak she’d requested. Within months, Anton had left his extensive family in Texas and moved to Virginia, continuing to work odd jobs, just to be near her. They’d been living together for the past six months, and I expected him to propose any day now.
“I’m taken, not blind. Just try to chat him up if you two meet. He’s worth your attention, and by the end of the pageant, who knows? You two may be having sleepovers and licking whipped cream off of one another.”
“You’re funny,” I said, exiting the passenger side. “You should do stand-up. Really.”
“Get checked in. I’ll see you at the meet and greet in a couple hours.” Lacy pointed me toward the grand entrance and then she drove away.
FOUR
You can do this.
You will do this.
You were made to do this.
Okay, the last line wasn’t at all true, but those were the words I thought to myself as I stood at the massive door of the Rose Palace and looked around for my aunt. Behind me was a manicured landscape of rainbow-colored flowers that could rival the finest European lawns, and in front of me, through this giant, wood-paneled door, was quite possibly my future.
Aunt DeeDee had told me she would be at the front steps to greet me and to calm my nerves, but here I waited and she was nowhere in sight. I checked my phone. No missed calls or texts. I dialed her number, but it went straight to voicemail.
Fantastic. The one person who knew this place from floor to ceiling, hidden passageways and all, had abandoned me.
But… that wasn’t like Aunt DeeDee, the rule-following, always-early-just-in-case woman who’d helped raise me.
I steeled myself with a long inhale and gripped my pitiful overnight bag as I pressed my fingers into the brass door handle and stepped onto a white marbled floor. My hand went to my chest in fright as I took in the rows of women—or rather life-size, cardboard cutouts of women—lining the long entryway. I’d known this event would be strange, but I hadn’t expected greeting-by-cardboard-cutout strange. Only in Aubergine.
The cathedral ceiling towered above me, and I had to pull my eyes away from the crisscrossing beams as I stepped forward, passing a five-foot-tall black-and-white image of a woman wearing a long strand of pearls and a sleeveless dress that hit her mid-calf. The spindly crown on her head was tall and ostentatious, and the girl’s smile proved she was thrilled to have won. At her feet was written in large numbers the very first year of the pageant.
My fingers trailed along the whitewashed stone walls before I began weaving through the other women. I was both impressed by the attention to detail and appalled at how these women had been captured forever in the glare of a camera flash. I marveled at the idea that with my now soft curls and newly buffed skin, I could actually join their ranks.
As I neared the end of the long hall that would take me to the center of activity, I spotted Miss 1999, Miss 2000, Miss 2002… I paused and backed up, sure I must’ve missed one.
But no. I retraced my steps.
Miss 1999.
Miss 2000.
Miss 2002.
Miss 2003… and on the years continued. Just like the story of the actual missing beauty queen, Miss 2001’s cutout had vanished or been ignored—and only those who cared were likely to notice.
A shiver ran up my spine and goosebumps sprang up on my forearms. For a fleeting second, I considered leaving. I could recross that threshold, step back outside into the late-afternoon sunshine, and let the pageant do its thing without my involvement.
But then the call I’d received from the mortgage company that morning came to mind. The man, though real, sounded robotic as he informed me of my situation and options, which basically amounted to catching up on seven months of payments on two different notes or being evicted in twenty-seven days.
If I left the pageant, then I’d have no chance to save Momma’s house, to pay back Aunt DeeDee, or to restart my life. I felt strangely guilty that my aunt had taken on debt when it was my mother who’d been ill.
I propelled myself forward and into the open lobby, where modern circular chandeliers belied hundred-year-old rose patterns carved into textured limestone. A two-sided fireplace stood giant and unlit, and beveled windowpanes looked out on a lush lawn. A garden with a hedge maze stretched back to a fountain.
A man in uniform almost bumped into me as he spoke into a walkie-talkie. Women in fantastic hats of every shade—but particularly blues, reds, and yellows—occasionally stopped to give air-kisses or a quick hug. My heart palpitated. The uniformed officer wouldn’t have bumped into these ladies. He would have seen them—or at least their hats—coming from a mile away.
I knew about the hat tradition, mainly because every year my aunt bought what seemed gaudier and more outlandish headwear. “Every contestant—current and former—wears them on the first night,” Aunt DeeDee had once explained. “At the end of that night we symbolically remove them to make room for the crown.”
I squared my shoulders, stretched my neck as far as it would reach and reminded myself of Aunt DeeDee’s words as she’d plucked, powdered, and painted me.
“You’ll be a breath of fresh air,” Aunt DeeDee had said to our reflections in the mirror when she’d finished transforming me.After her work, we looked more alike than I’d ever noticed with our long eyelashes and high cheekbones. The worry lines hadn’t vanished, but shehadbrought out the green in my eyes. It was nothing short of miraculous, I’d had to admit. “It’s been almost a hundred years of the same kind of winner. Time for something new.”
