The Red-Hot Chili Cook-Off (9 page)

“Sounds good to me,” Gigi said.

At the reality of what the Fannin sisters were planning, Carlene shot a desperate look toward Patrice. She'd be living with all three of them for six weeks until the cook-off was over. One little suggestion had turned into a full-fledged mission. That was enough to put her on her knees in prayer without a word from Alma Grace.

***

Patrice caught the expressions on both her cousins' faces at the same time. Poor little darlin's, didn't they remember that their faces could freeze like that? It wasn't often that the youngest got to take the reins and make decisions, but today belonged to her.

She held up a hand and snapped her fingers to get everyone's attention. “Okay, ladies, here's the way we're going to handle this. Mama, you go on and sign us up for the chili cook-off today. We need a name for our team. Lenny's is the Chili Kings. We could be the Chili Queens.”

Josie shook her head. “Oh, no! That is not the name you girls should use. He'll say you stole the idea from him. You should be the Red-Hot Bloomers. That'll rub salt into Lenny's wound real good when we beat the hell out of him with the panty squad.”

“I like it,” Gigi said. “Put us down as the Red-Hot Bloomers Team when you go enter us in the contest, Tansy.”

Alma Grace looked like she was about to cry. “So you are all going to have rooms upstairs with Mama until the cook-off is done. Uncle Alex and Uncle Hank aren't going to like that a bit.”

“It's not every night. Just when we work late on our chili recipe,” Gigi said. “It's not like we're leaving them. We'll be home with them all day, have supper with them, and then come here when the shop is closed to start experimenting with the recipes.”

One stray tear found its way down Alma Grace's cheek. “I don't know if I can be on this team. It would be working against Lenny and Carlene ever getting back together and I'm not sure Jesus likes that idea. He wants us to forgive and forget, not split a marriage apart with a chili cook-off.”

“Oh, stop it!” Carlene said.

Sugar patted her daughter on the back. “Honey, do you remember in the scripture when David desired another man's wife and he sent that man out into the front lines of battle just so he would be killed?”

“What's that got to do with a chili cook-off?” Alma Grace asked.

“Think about how mad God was at David for that stunt. He punished him. Maybe Carlene and Lenny will get back together someday but not before Lenny is punished. This is a lot less punishment than David got.”

Alma Grace looked up into her mother's eyes. “Are you sure, Mama?”

“If I'm going to help develop the recipe and learn to cook chili, then I expect you can be on the team,” Sugar said.

“You can't cook,” Alma Grace reminded her.

“I'm about to learn to make the best chili in Grayson County, Texas. And I can do anything I want to do. I never wanted to cook and your daddy said I brought enough to the marriage with my beauty and…” Sugar blushed.

“And what she takes to the bedroom.” Gigi laughed.

“I'll be on the team but I'm not going back to our church until after Easter because I'm still pissed,” Alma Grace said.

Sugar shook her finger at her daughter. “Alma Grace Magee! You are talking like Tansy.”

“Well, I am and I'm not having any more devotionals with you until you and Daddy both quit acting like teenagers,” Alma Grace said. “And if Jack Landry asks me, I'm going to ride on the back of that motorcycle with him.”

“You, young lady, are the one acting like a teenager. I suppose the next thing you're going to tell me is that you're going to move in with that renegade Jack Landry, since you are so angry.” Sugar groaned.

Patrice snapped her fingers again. “Whoa. Put away the butcher knives and guns. Aunt Gigi, you and Mama will be staying part-time upstairs with Aunt Sugar. Carlene and Alma Grace are going to stay at my house. I've got two extra bedrooms and if y'all can live together for a few weeks, then we can. But the three of you have to realize, we do have a business to run in the bottom half of this house. No loud noise. No stomping around during the day. We don't give a shit what you do at night. You can have a prayer meeting or get drunk or brew chili. But during the day, you will behave, understood? Aunt Gigi, you won't even have to bring any furniture since Carlene's bedroom can be yours.”

Carlene poked her cousin on the leg and mouthed, “What about Yancy?”

Patrice shrugged and whispered, “I'll manage.”

“Can I move in tonight?” Alma Grace asked.

Patrice nodded. “And so can you, Carlene.”

“Thank you, Patrice, but I'm too tired to move tonight. I'll do it after work tomorrow,” Carlene said. “Now let's get to work. Josie and I've got underwear to design. This place won't run itself and thank you for letting me live at your house.”

“I've got quarterly tax forms to take care of.” Patrice picked up her coffee and headed to the office.

The door's bell jingled and Alma Grace hurried off toward the store.

Patrice laid a hand on her shoulder as they passed in the foyer. “What you do in your bedroom is your business. I don't give a shit when you come in at night or when you leave in the morning but I will not have morning devotionals with you. Understood?”

Alma Grace saluted sharply. “Yes, ma'am.”

***

“What in the hell have we set loose?” Gigi said when they were alone in the kitchen. “Thank God it's not football season. Hank and I have never missed a Longhorn game in our lives and we always go together.”

“It'll be fun. We haven't lived together like this since we were teenagers,” Sugar said. “We've each got a room and we're going to learn to make world-class chili. What more could we ask for?”

“More than one bathroom.” Gigi shook her head. “Hank is going to pitch a helluva fit.”

Tansy smiled. “Alex won't like it either but it's for a good cause. And I read the cards this morning. My bird was happy and I knew it would be a good reading. Guess what they told me? They said that nobody will expect us to come up with a prize recipe since everyone knows we can't cook and it will surprise the hell out of everyone when we win. This is going to be fun.”

“Oh, we've got to plan our tent and our logo to go on the little bowls to serve our chili and the recipes.” Sugar rubbed her hands together. “Josie, do you have any good recipes we could start off with?”

She shook her head. “Oh, no! Louis never liked chili so I didn't make it very often.”

“Well, shit!” Tansy moaned.

“That's what I just said.” Josie grinned. “I'm going back to work, and don't worry. There's recipes by the dozens for every kind of chili in the world on those cooking sites on the computer.” She headed out of the kitchen.

Gigi clapped her hands. “I'll bring my laptop and we'll hunt up the best recipes and then get busy, but first Tansy's got to go to the Chamber of Commerce and register the team. And we've got to go to Sugar's house while Jamie is out and go through the attic where we just might find the last recipe Daddy made before he passed.”

Sugar whispered, “I can't go home until he apologizes and repents. Y'all will have to do it. I'll go register the team and use the company laptop to look at logos while you're gone.”

“Is that big old heavy cooker that Daddy made chili in every year in your attic?” Gigi asked.

Sugar's eyes twinkled. “Yes, and I put a lot of loose recipes in it when I took it from Mama's house. I bet somewhere in there is a recipe for his prize-winning chili.”

“But that was his recipe. We need to have our own,” Tansy protested.

“It will be ours when we add our own special touches. Gigi, you do make chili for the family gatherings sometimes. What's your secret?” Sugar asked.

“It's my special secret that I don't share.” She wasn't telling her sisters that her chili came straight out of a gallon can she bought at the store and added a teaspoon of liquid smoke and half a cup of Worcestershire sauce after it started to boil.

She wasn't one damn bit excited about spending so much time with her two bickering sisters either. Or sleeping alone on late nights. Or eating takeout for supper most of the time. She'd gain ten pounds for sure, yank her hair out by the roots in an attempt to keep peace on the second floor, and holy shit, she'd have to share a bathroom with a saint and a psychic.

Tansy reached across the table and laid one hand on Sugar's and the other on Gigi's. “I see a gold plastic trophy in our future. I see Lenny madder than hell and our husbands all being really nice to us for a long time after the next six weeks and begging us never to enter the contest again. I see women in Cadillac throwing down roses for us to walk on because we are entering a world where women have never trod before.”

Gigi pulled her hand back. “I hear bullshit, Tansy. You are not a psychic. Women are going to throw rotten tomatoes at us for ruining the chili cook-off and our husbands might even divorce us. So by damn, with stakes that high, y'all had best help me find a recipe that will win this contest.”

Sugar held up her hand. “I'm on the decorating committee. That means I'll take care of the shirts, the tent, and the logo. Y'all have to find the recipe.”

“Hell, if you will,” Tansy said. “I'm not wearing a shirt with Red-Hot Bloomers plastered across the front and a Bible verse on the back. You don't order a damn thing without our consent and that means all seven of us, not just a nod from Alma Grace. I do give you credit for your sermon that convinced her to at least join the team, though.”

“I was thinking of ‘Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord,' or something like that. It wouldn't have to be in big letters.” Sugar pouted.

“No religious stuff,” Gigi said. “We'll beat Lenny without the help of the angels.”

Gigi talked and Hank sipped his scotch with his long legs propped up on a hassock in front of his favorite chair and didn't interrupt one time as she talked and talked and talked.

“Well?” she asked after a full minute had elapsed at the end of her speech.

Had he not heard a word she said? She'd worried all day about how to approach him with the idea and he hadn't butted in one single time. It damn sure wasn't the time for him to daydream about oil wells and cows.

“Sounds like your mind is made up,” he said.

“Lenny has to pay,” she answered.

“Wouldn't it be easier to just shoot him?”

“Then he'd be dead. This way he'll have to live with the fact that he's a loser,” Gigi said.

“That's asking a lot for a little revenge.”

“It's not for me or even for Sugar. I can't say it's even for the broken candlesticks, although I figure my mama is sending some karma out from the grave and Lenny is in deep shit. Don't tell Tansy I said that or she'll be saying that Mama was a psychic, too. This is for Carlene. Kitty came to the shop today and called her fat,” Gigi said.

Hank jumped up so fast that he was a blur. “Kitty Lovelle said what?”

“She said that she never understood why her precious son married a fat woman,” Gigi said.

She'd fussed and fumed around with arguments about why she'd be gone so much in the evenings for the next few weeks and all it took was one sentence and one three-letter word—F-A-T—to do the trick. Carlene had always been built just like Hank's grandma, whom he adored. Tall, big boned, never skinny even in high school—but she'd been the president of her class all four years of high school, on the debate team, played basketball and volleyball, and as her senior picture above the mantel portrayed, had been a beautiful woman. He didn't see Carlene as anything other than his gorgeous daughter.

“You can go to Mexico and learn to make the hottest damn chili in the world. I'll pay for the cooking lessons myself. That woman and her son have to be taught a lesson,” Hank said.

Shit! Why hadn't she thought of going to Mexico? She and her sisters hadn't been on an all girls' vacation in two years and they were due one. But they couldn't give Lenny the satisfaction of having professional chili makers teaching them how to cook. No, sir, they had to win fair and square. And he couldn't have even one excuse when it was all said and done.

“Lenny would say that we didn't invent the recipe ourselves if we did that. That's why we aren't going to ask our husbands to help us out with recipes. We want to do this on our very own,” Gigi said.

Hank grinned. “And I'll pay for a double-page spread in the center of every newspaper in Grayson County to show off your trophies when you do. Hell, I hope he comes in fourth. That way he won't even get a ribbon.”

She crossed the room and looped her arms around Hank's neck. “When it's over, I will plan a whole week at the beach just for us.”

Hank tipped back her chin and kissed her solidly with hunger and promise. “I'll do the plannin' and I'm thinkin' an Alaskan cruise would be nice.”

“With lots of seafood, no relatives, and no chili.”

He swept her up in his arms and started up the stairs with her snuggled down close to his chest. “You got it, darlin'.”

***

Tansy handed Alex a beer when he walked through the door. He took one look at the suitcases sitting beside the door and rolled his eyes.

“It's true then? Y'all have entered the contest?” he asked.

“Patrice called, didn't she?” She answered his question with one of her own.

He nodded. “She's not looking forward to the arrangements either. Hank and I were all smug feeling sorry for Jamie because Sugar moved out until he does proper repentance. But we didn't even kiss Kitty Lovelle and our wives are moving out.”

“You damn sure better not kiss that hussy. It would be the last lips you kiss if you ever do and we're not moving out. I'll just be in and out of the house. If we are working on the chili late at night, we'll stay at the shop. If not, I'll be home, and nothing says you and Hank can't stop by and have a drink with us in the evenings,” Tansy said.

“You really think you can beat Lenny at the cook-off? Wouldn't it be easier to take him down another way? Like burn down his business or get him fired? Hell, I'll buy the car dealership and fire his sorry ass, myself,” Alex said.

Tansy kissed him on the cheek and pushed him backward until he was forced to sit on the sofa. She straddled his lap and cupped his cheeks in her hands. “I love you, and I'll be home part of the time and I'll never leave you again once this cook-off is over. If I can live with my sisters above a lingerie shop and learn to make world-famous chili, you can live with me just popping in and out for a few weeks. And remember that's just one suitcase over there. If I was planning on spending all my nights at the shop, there would be a dozen. Dinner is being served in the bedroom tonight. Your bath is already run and I'm wearing absolutely nothing under this kimono.”

Alex grinned. “I knew I married the right Fannin sister!”

***

How in the devil did Uncle Jamie sleep with Aunt Sugar? Evidently he used earplugs or he'd wander around in a daze from lack of sleep all the time. Carlene finally turned on the bedside lamp and sat up in bed. It sounded like a chain saw fighting its way through a truckload of hogs across the hall. She should have moved in with Patrice that night like Alma Grace had done, and she would be sleeping soundly.

She eased out of bed and made her way downstairs to the kitchen where she downed two shots of scotch. She eyed the bottle as she started out of the room but decided against drinking enough to pass completely out. She had to work the next day and there were appointments on the books for three weddings. Maybe they should attend bridal fairs and promote a bridal line of lingerie for the bachelorette parties as well as weddings.

She'd been working on a fancy white lace corset that afternoon so she flipped on the light in the beading room. Brides, in their rose-colored glasses, were downright stupid. She'd been one and she'd had the perfect wedding five years before. Now look where she was. She'd trusted Lenny with her heart and he'd broken it every bit as badly as he had Granny's candleholders.

Tears streamed down her face as she sat down in a gold velvet vintage rocker pushed back in the corner. She pulled the quilt from off the back and wrapped it around her body. Was the fact that she was a plus-size girl what drove Lenny away? He'd seen her naked before they married, so if he didn't like curves, then why did he propose? If he wanted a tiny-size trophy wife, why did he marry a woman who bought her clothing from the plus-size store?

Using the back of her hand to wipe the tears, it came to her in a flash that she'd been his security blanket.
He
couldn't leave his poor dumpy wife because she'd kill herself without him, but he would if he could. And they felt sorry for him right into those big round beds on the trips that didn't have a damn thing to do with the car dealership. No wonder he doesn't have a pot to piss in and he's spent all my money along with his! He's probably had dozens and dozens of women. And he told them all he'd leave his fat wife if he could.

She set the rocker in motion and then realized that she couldn't hear the snoring anymore. The tears disappeared and she was smiling when she fell fast asleep.

***

On Saturday morning, when a cattle trailer brought a load of Gigi's furniture, the crackle of gossip flying through the air was almost audible. Every woman in Cadillac and the surrounding areas suddenly needed a new bra or pair of under-britches. By the time the trucks unloaded Gigi's bedroom furniture and suitcases, both sides of the street were lined with cars and trucks of every description. If Tansy hadn't pulled right in behind the last truck, she'd have had to park three blocks away and pull her suitcase up the street.

“Where's the paparazzi? I should at least get to shield my face when I sneak in the door with my suitcase,” Tansy fussed when she opened the car door.

Yancy quickly rounded the front of the car and held the door for her. “I brought Patrice some chocolate cupcakes. I understand you are moving in today. If you'll pop that trunk lid, I'll be glad to carry your things upstairs for you.”

Tansy flashed a brilliant smile. “Thank you, Yancy. I've just got one suitcase but I'll sure be glad for you to carry it for me. Is it as crazy in there as it looks from out here?”

“Yes, ma'am. I didn't even get to talk to Patrice. The store is jammed full of women and more are in the foyer eatin' cookies and drinkin' sweet tea. I'm not so sure that feedin' them is a good idea. You feed a stray dog and it'll just keep coming back for more.” Yancy carried the heavy suitcase without huffing and puffing one bit. “If you'll shut the trunk and open the door for me, I'd sure appreciate it.”

She followed behind him, admiring the way he filled out those tight-fitting jeans. Her daughter had a keeper there if she'd just wake up and realize it. “This is the only day they'll get fed, trust me. Patrice will see that two dozen cookies won't last five minutes and all the profit will go across the street to Clawdy's. She's a better business woman than that.”

Someone swung the door open before she could touch it and Yancy proceeded up the stairs without a hitch. Tansy, on the other hand, was bombarded with questions.

“Is it true that the Fannin girls are entering the chili cook-off and you've left your husbands? Women don't do that,” one lady said.

Agnes Flynn, who lived two doors down from the shop, looped her arm in Tansy's. Agnes was well past eighty and great-aunt to Cathy and Marty Andrews, who ran Miss Clawdy's Café. She was the most outspoken woman in Cadillac and nobody messed with her.

She pulled Tansy up on the first stair and said in a loud voice. “Granny Fannin would be so proud of you girls for what y'all are doin'. This is as big as marchin' on the White House for women's rights. All us women are proud as hell of y'all. I'm here to tell you that if y'all needed someone for your team, I'd gladly throw my lot in with you but since you got enough, I'm pledgin' a thousand dollars to the cause for y'all to buy the tent.” She whipped a brown paper bag out of her purse and shook it open. “My check goes into this bag. It'll be settin' over there on the credenza beside them cookies. Donations are welcome but don't be tryin' to tell the Fannin girls how to make chili. Their Mama was a fine cook and they'll be makin' the winnin' potful at the cook-off. Oh, and I've got five dollars to bet that they win. Anyone wants to bet, Patrice will be our bookie.”

“Bettin' is against the law and it's immoral,” Violet Prescott said from the doorway into the store.

The noise went from raising the roof to dead silence in less than a second. Tansy whipped around to see what Agnes would say or, worse yet, what she'd do. She and Violet had been arch enemies for years. The previous year at the Fourth of July festival they'd gotten into a fistfight and wound up in jail.

Agnes ignored Violet and went on. “Like I said, Patrice is our investment banker. I'm buying stock in the Red-Hot Bloomers Team. When they win, my stock will pay off damn good. I'm figuring that Violet will buy stock in Lenny's team since his mama is her friend. Now remember, there are about eighteen more teams on the roster so you can bet on any one you want. Y'all see Patrice between now and the day before the cook-off if you want to buy stock in any team you think might win the cook-off this year. I'm throwing a party at Clawdy's on Mother's Day afternoon to celebrate the big win from the team I'm bettin' on. Anyone who joins the Red-Hot Bloomers Team has an invitation.”

At first there were a few whispers and then slowly the noise level rose. Agnes winked at Tansy and said, “That ought to keep them busy for a few days. Lord, I love it when there's excitement in Cadillac.”

“Have you talked to Patrice about this?” Tansy asked.

“Hell, no! But she'll take care of it because we all want to whip Lenny's cheatin' ass. Never did like that boy or his mama. If I have to sabotage his chili by putting a dead rat in it, fur, tail, asshole, ears, and all, he will not beat Carlene.” Agnes slapped her fist into the palm of her other hand with every word.

“Oh, no!” Tansy declared. “We've got to win fair and square, with no doubts.”

Agnes patted her on the arm. “Then I'd say y'all better put on your aprons and get to work. I'll do my part in keeping Kitty away from your husbands while you are over here.”

“How can you do that?”

Agnes flashed a grin that bordered on crazy. “Honey, I'd tell you but then we'd both wind up in prison.”

“Dear God!” Tansy exclaimed.

As she headed up the stairs to unpack her suitcases, Tansy made up her mind that if Cadillac was still standing after the cook-off, she was going to a party at Clawdy's and she would buy more than five dollars' worth of stock in the Red-Hot Bloomers Team. If she had to make chili every night for six weeks, then she would at least make a few dollars with her
stock
. Kitty would put money on Lenny and it would be so sweet to take it from them. Things were looking up for sure.

***

The store looked worse than a Chicago dump ground when the doors finally closed at five o'clock that afternoon. Carlene melted into a chair beside one of the messy dressing rooms and threw the back of her hand over her forehead in a dramatic gesture.

“My God, what a day,” she said.

Alma Grace sat down in the middle of the floor. Her face was a picture of bewilderment as she looked up at Carlene. “Please tell me it's over. Do we have a bra left in the stockroom?”

Patrice joined Alma Grace on the floor and leaned against a dressing room doorjamb. “There are bras left but there's not a cookie out there or a drop of sweet tea. Our mothers escaped off to look in the attic for Grandpa's chili recipes. If it's in the Fannin family, they say it's not cheating. I need a drink, a cupcake, and sex, in that order.”