CHAPTER FORTY
This is the scariest interlude of all, when the teen queens must say something coherent under pressure. Colleen, Lasalo, Trixie, Shanelle, and I each crafted a question during the week.
The first two contestants do fine, though their answers aren’t memorable. Then Beth Ann Kramer is called to the microphone to answer Lasalo’s question. Colleen reads it from a card. “In awarding an important sports trophy like the Heisman, should an athlete’s behavior off the field be considered or not?”
“Yes, I totally think it should be considered,” Beth Ann replies without hesitation. “Whoever wins the Heisman is somebody that will be a role model for other football players. If the winner doesn’t behave right off the field, too, he doesn’t deserve that honor.” Beth Ann completes her answer by throwing us judges a smile.
I smile back as I do to all the contestants but inwardly I’m thinking what a good answer that was! Particularly coming from a 16-year-old. I can tell Lasalo thinks so, too. She even managed to sneak in that she knows the Heisman goes to a football player.
Mariela is called up next. As destiny would have it, she gets my question. Colleen reads: “Obesity is a real crisis in our country, in all economic groups but especially among the poor. What do you think is the best way to tackle this problem?”
Mariela smiles radiantly. Then, “I think everybody should do their shopping at Whole Foods because everything there is really healthy. And they should get personal trainers because if you have somebody working out with you, you work out harder. And if you still have a problem after that, you should consider liposuction. Then when you drop the weight, you’ll have the excitement of buying all new clothes!” Mariela gives us judges a big old smile.
I hear snickering behind me. A few guffaws ring out, too. The tiniest hint of a frown appears on Mariela’s gorgeous face. I am wondering how the heck I am going to point that answer. It certainly gets high marks for cluelessness.
The fifth finalist does just fine. Then the 62 teen queens who are not among the finalists return to the stage for a reprise of “Conga” that exists only so that we judges have time to rank our top five contestants.
Lasalo, Shanelle, and I look at each other. “I have a winner,” Lasalo says. “Her name is Beth Ann Kramer.”
“I have to agree,” says Shanelle.
I make it three. All things considered, it’s not a close call. There’s only minimal debate as we rank the other four finalists.
It’s time for Colleen to bring the pageant to a close. She stands center stage with the five finalists at stage right and the other 62 teen queens arrayed behind her.
“What an exciting night this has been!” Colleen cries. “Judges, have you reached your decision?”
“We sure have,” Lasalo says, and hands an envelope up to Colleen.
She opens it and beams at the audience. “So thrilling! And let me just say that each and every girl on this stage is a winner!”
We all clap dutifully. The finalists clasp hands. Mariela looks supremely confident. The other girls look hopeful … and nervous.
“Our fourth runner-up is”—Colleen pauses—“Mariela Machado Suave!”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an expression of astonishment in my life. Mariela freezes in place. Trixie puts the 4
th
-runner-up sash over her head and hands her a bouquet but then almost has to drag her off the stage.
When Beth Ann Kramer is named the new Miss Teen Princess of the Everglades, she cries a little and smiles a lot and waves cheerfully at the audience and all in all conducts herself very nicely. As “Conga” once again blares from the speakers, Colleen thanks us all for coming and wishes us a lovely night. The teen queens mob Beth Ann, as well they should. This is her night.
Every contestant hoped it would be hers, I know. One fully expected it to be. And she is notably absent from the giggling horde on stage congratulating Beth Ann.
An hour later I am delighted to be at Paloma’s manse with my duties done. As I’m strolling by the pool Mercedes the housekeeper rushes to my side to hand me a piña colada. I am only too happy to accept it. She clasps my hands. “Thank you so much for what you did for this family.” Tears fill her eyes.
Since I can’t see crying without crying myself, tears fill mine. I squeeze Mercedes’ hands. “I only wish there were more I could do. My heart breaks for all of you, especially Doña Paloma.”
“Your daughter really helps her. Maybe she can come to Miami again.”
“I’m sure she will. I know she wants to.”
I’m so proud of Rachel I give her a hug the moment I see her.
“I bet Mariela’s ready to kill you,” my daughter tells me. “But I would’ve killed you if you let her win after she gave that stupid answer.”
“Don’t rub it in when you see her.
If
you see her.” I’m not at all sure Mariela and Consuela will show up at this party now that they can’t crow over Mariela’s victory. Most first-time beauty queens would be proud of a fifth-place finish but I know Mariela won’t be.
“You might be mad at me when I tell you what
I
did,” Rachel says. “I told Grandpa that Grandma had Bennie Hana over for dinner. As soon as I said it I thought I probably shouldn’t have.”
“How did you even know about it?”
“Grandma told me.”
That was no accident. “Did Grandpa seem upset?”
“He got even quieter than usual.”
“Let’s go say hi to him.” I see him at the buffet tables set up in the pool area. They’re laden with all sorts of goodies I want to sample. I interrupt his plate-loading with a hug. “Did you enjoy the pageant, Pop?”
“Brought back old times.” He lowers his voice. “But none of those girls are as pretty as you.”
“You’re biased.” Looks-wise Mariela can run circles around me. In other respects I might have the upper hand.
“I’m proud of your crime-solving, too,” he goes on, “even though I still don’t cotton to it.”
“Your advice is what clarified everything for me, Pop. Remember you said I should think about the things I’d decided were unimportant? One of those was Peppi’s reporting. That turned out to be the key.”
He shrugs. He’d still rather I excel at being a beauty queen. “By the way,” he says, “Maggie has an idea for an appearance for you.”
The corn quesadilla I snagged stops halfway to my mouth. “Maggie does?”
“In Minnesota. Her hometown’s getting a big-box store and she thinks you’re just the gal to cut the ribbon at the opening.”
That’s the sort of event at which we queens routinely star. But I have zero desire to do so at Maggie’s side.
“It’d be next month,” Pop adds.
“Right before Christmas? Oh, that’s such a busy time—”
“We could meet the people she’s got up there. And I could do some ice fishing.”
“That sounds fun, Grandpa!” Rachel cries. “Aren’t you gonna eat, Mom?”
“You two go ahead. I want to make a quick call first.”
Back in the day I never would’ve called my mom at this hour because she’d be asleep. But nowadays she picks up. “Are you alone or is Bennie Hana with you?” I inquire snidely.
She lets that pass. “I’m watching that show about the true crime. You’d know something about that.”
“Why did you tell Rachel that you had your boss over for dinner?”
“Because I wasn’t sure you’d tell your father but I was pretty sure she would.”
I knew it! “Well, your plan backfired because now Pop wants me to go to Minnesota to do an appearance with Maggie. And to quote unquote meet her people.”
Now I’ve got my mother’s attention. “You better not go, young lady!”
“How am I going to stop it? You know what Pop’s like when he gets an idea in his head.”
“If you’re smart enough to figure out those murders, you’re smart enough to figure that out. Now I’ve got to go or I’ll never find out who killed the bridesmaid at that wedding in the woods.”
With visions of Minnesota in December dancing in my head, I join the buffet line and fill my plate with such delectable items as
Feijoada
—a stew made of beans, pork, and beef—and
Tamales de Pipían
—tamales filled with cheese and vegetables steamed in banana leaves. I’m not surprised the food is as sensational as the setting. This home is beautiful, and it’s lively tonight with dozens of teen queens buzzing about wearing evening gowns. It’s like prom night without the dates.
I find a chaise lounge next to Pop and Rachel and in no time am joined by Lasalo. “So tell me what happened to Peppi,” he says.
I relay the story with occasional breaks to feast. Mercedes does an excellent job freshening my piña colada. As we chat, Trixie and Shanelle join us.
“There’s one thing I still don’t understand,” Trixie says. “Alice told you Peppi betrayed her. Was that because she thought Peppi told Iris Flower about her bulimia?”
“Yes. The only person Alice confided in was Peppi. They did meet in rehab and they did share a deep bond. Alice told me she didn’t think Peppi would betray that confidence until after the orientation lunch when she overheard Peppi on her phone talking to Iris Flower.”
“So Alice jumped to the conclusion that Peppi was the source of the story,” Shanelle says. “Did you tell her who it actually was?”
“I told her it wasn’t Peppi but I didn’t tell her who it was. I didn’t think that was my place. But Alice is still mad at Peppi for inviting Iris to the Sugarbabies party. Alice thinks that if Peppi were a true friend, she would have had nothing to do with Iris since it was Iris who publicized Alice’s bulimia. And of course that caused her restaurant to nosedive.” I don’t know how accurate Ned Silver’s characterization of Alice is, but he’s certainly right that she demands total loyalty from the people around her.
“I’ll still eat at her restaurant,” Lasalo says. “The food’s still good.”
“When is Iris going to interview you about all this?” Shanelle wants to know.
“Tomorrow morning.” I promised her the inside track and now I must deliver.
Rachel pipes up. “Mariela’s mom is sure gonna be mad when she sees that gossip columnist write a long story all about you!”
No doubt Consuela will add that to her list of grievances. “It’s going to be mostly about Peppi, Rachel.” And I must leave out the details the police want me to keep secret as they build their case against Alfonso.
Without Detective Dez’s help, I might add. Mario told me he had a chat with Miami P.D. and they are less than thrilled with Detective Monaco’s performance. He may not lose his badge but he’ll likely get demoted from Homicide. I won’t object.
Across the pool I spy Mario with Mariela and Consuela. Mario gives me a smile but mother and daughter look more sulky than festive. “They came after all,” I whisper to Shanelle.
“You notice Mariela’s not wearing her sash.”
“She probably threw it out the car window.”
Trixie pats my leg. “Have we told you how proud we are of you, Happy?”
“About a gazillion times.”
“So this is a gazillion and one,” Shanelle says. “You done good, girl.”
“And you did it all on your own this time,” Trixie says. “We were so busy sewing we didn’t help at all.”
“You did so help. And so did Mario.”
“He just did what you told him to do,” Shanelle says.
“Well, if you’re proud of me, I’m proud of you, Trixie,” I say.
“I’ll say!” Shanelle cries. “That opening number kicked butt!”
Trixie allows a smile. “I have to say it gives me confidence that it turned out so well. And that’s been sorely lacking since I lost my job.”
“Who knows what exciting things you’ll do next?” I say. “And maybe in Savannah, if Rhett gets that job.”
Her hazel eyes shine. “It could be a whole new chapter for us.”
I set down my drink. “It’s time I visit with Paloma. If she’ll let me.”
She does. Mercedes escorts me to the stunning two-story library, softly lit by a silk-shaded lamp. Paloma is there in black trousers and top. She looks very, very tired. Like her housekeeper, she grasps my hands. “I didn’t give you the easiest time. I’m sorry for that.”
“No apologies necessary.”
She shakes her head. “I wasn’t fair to you, and you did so much for me. There are so many people I wasn’t fair to. Hector, for one.”
