The Red-Hot Chili Cook-Off (18 page)

“What kinds of ingredients?” Gigi was suddenly interested.

“Tell everyone to study recipes and bring their secret to your house the weekend before. We'll make several pots all the same way and freeze it, then have it ready for the cook-off so we'll have plenty. That's what I got from my vision but believe me it had meat in it. It wasn't vegetarian,” Tansy told her.

“You just might have an idea.”

Tansy nodded. “If I feel better tomorrow I'm going to tell Patrice to bring Dakshani home. I know he's missing me and my powers are getting weak without him here. And just for the record I'm taking two flu shots next year,” Tansy said.

Gigi popped up the footrest on the recliner. Two days of hanging by a thread between life and death took its toll on a middle-aged woman. She wasn't sure that she hadn't been on her way for an up close and personal talk with St. Peter until that morning when the nurse declared that she could get dressed and go to Tansy's house.

“Hello.” Alma Grace's voice floated from the foyer. “I brought Mama. Are you in the sunroom?”

“Yes, we are,” Tansy said.

Gigi motioned toward the other chair. “Good mornin', Sugar, darlin'.”

“Ah, that sweet tea does look good.” Sugar melted into the chair and pulled a fluffy throw over her legs. Her hair was pulled back with a wide red headband decorated with rhinestones. Dangly diamond earrings flashed in the sunlight and her makeup was perfect but her eyes looked tired.

Alma Grace quickly filled the remaining glass with ice and tea and handed it to her mother. “There you, go. Sweet tea will make you feel better.”

“Honey, you'll have to get another glass if you'd like something to drink,” Tansy said.

“Don't have time. We're opening the shop again. You girls have a good time. Daddy says that he'll check on you at noon,” Alma Grace said.

“You tell Jamie that we'll be fine. My cook is making us a light lunch and we've got lots to talk about. We're going to discuss the cook-off. If we decide we need a nap, we'll help your mama up to the bedrooms or else we'll rest right here,” Tansy told her.

“I know the secret to the winning chili!” Sugar said.

“Well, y'all enjoy your day.” Alma Grace disappeared out into the hallway.

“We've been talking about it, already,” Gigi said.

“You know how Mama always said that all the secrets of life were in her Bible? Well, I had Jamie go get it for me from the credenza down in the foyer when I thought I was going to die and I've been lookin' through it this morning. I found a Hershey wrapper marking the place where Jesus fed the thousands with just a few fishes and loaves of bread. I think she was telling me to put chocolate in the chili but not to use too much.”

Gigi smiled. “I'm surprised it wasn't tucked in beside the Ten Commandments.”

“Why?” Tansy asked.

“That's where it says not to commit adultery.”

Sugar nodded in agreement. “You've got a point. Mama wrote the directions on the back side of the wrapper. According to what she had there, we should use one half a bar. It didn't say chili but I just know in my heart that the chocolate is Daddy's secret.”

Tansy fluffed her pillow and shifted to the other end of the love seat. “Maybe you should put chocolate in the chili for your ingredient,” and went on to tell her about her vision.

“I think that's what Mama is telling me. I thought I caught a glimpse of her when I was floating up close to heaven yesterday, and I remembered what she said about the secrets being in the Bible.”

Gigi felt cheated. She didn't go to the Mardi Gras or to talk to her mama when she was sick. And she sure didn't think about chili. Lord, just the thought of it even two days later made her gag. But then she'd always been the grounded sister whose vice was simply Texas Longhorn football.

That was it. They were the eccentric Fannin girls who'd bring chocolate and probably bird feathers to the chili but she'd make the basic recipe. Yes, sir, Gigi was the grounded, completely normal sister.

***

The shop had been fairly quiet most of the day. Kim came by at noon and she and Alma Grace had a whispering session over near the plus-size teddies. Patrice had been holed up in her office all day.

Josie called in the middle of the afternoon to say that she was getting out of the hospital but that her son had driven up from Austin and was taking her home with him for a week to recuperate. She actually sounded happy about the idea, which surprised Carlene.

Just as she was sewing the last bit of expensive lace to the corset, Carlene heard the bridal party in the foyer. She set it aside and joined Alma Grace in the shop. The bride and her friends squealed when they saw the panties, bras, corsets, and fancy hose with wedding bells embroidered around the top. The squeals got louder when Alma Grace brought out the frothy white peignoir adorned with French Chantilly lace around the edges and hem. The bride, who was six feet tall and wore a size eighteen, whipped out a credit card and paid the enormous bill.

“It's just what I wanted. Everything is perfect. I'm going to be beautiful,” she said breathlessly. “Carlene, I'm so glad that you put in a shop for us gals who aren't a size four.”

“Hey, now!” one of the bridesmaids said.

“Nothing against you tiny girls but it's so exciting for us plus-size women to find pretty things, too.”

“Yes, it is,” Carlene said. “I'm glad you are pleased.”

And
I'm sure glad Josie finished whipping up that peignoir on Friday,
Carlene thought.

She went back to the designing/beading room feeling a lot better about the day. It was great to be appreciated and needed. But the good feeling surrounding her like a nice warm jacket on a cold rainy day didn't last long. She felt the chill even before Kitty Lovelle stormed through the door uninvited and cussing worse than Josie.

Her face was scarlet; her expression right out of a horror film; her mouth set in a firm line and her jaws working; she looked like she could kill Carlene with her bare hands.

“You caused this. I know you did just like you've caused that ruckus between him and Bridget by sending that hussy flowers. And you were involved with that horrible, mean trick with the cookers. I know you did it so don't look so innocent. Well, are you happy now?”

Carlene stared, wide-eyed, at the woman. Any minute she was going to fall on the floor and commence frothing at the mouth and all Carlene could think about was the yards of Venice lace on the table. She hoped that Kitty didn't pull it off when she went to squirming around like a worm in hot ashes.

Should she call 911 right then or wait until her former mother-in-law stopped breathing and then call? She was wondering if she could claim the phones didn't work, when Kitty stomped her foot.

“Listen to me. I'm talking to you, girl. He's sick. Real bad sick with the flu and I know that you are the cause. He's run down because of the way you've treated him and acted and he didn't have the good health to fight it off. Before he married you…” Kitty threw her hand up and took in the whole room.

Lenny hadn't married the shop or the whole family. Hell, he wiggled his way out of every family function that he could and he hated the shop. He wouldn't even help with the renovations for it.

“Before he got tangled up with the likes of you, he was never sick. So it's your fault,” Kitty screamed.

“You aren't supposed to be within fifty feet of this place or my house or any of our homes. Didn't you take out a restraining order on my family? But since you are here, I can tell you that Lenny was never sick when he was married to me. It's probably the fact that he's busy chasing after every skirt tail in the whole county that's got him sick. Is he in the hospital?”

“I don't give a damn about a restraining order. They aren't worth jack shit. And no, he's not in the hospital. He's at home and Bridget won't even let me in the front door. And Macy has it, too, and she might not even be well in time for the Easter program. I'm never forgiving you.” Kitty stormed out in the same foul mood that she'd brought with her when she arrived.

Patrice looked around the edge of the door. “Do you give a shit if she forgives you?”

Carlene shook her head.

“Do you give a shit if he has the flu?”

Another shake.

“Then let's lock up. It's after five and we still have to run by and see Agnes and our mamas before we go home. They're over at my mama's so we can see them all at once. They've been talking about chili all day and Aunt Sugar says she's found the secret to the winning recipe.”

Alma Grace met them in the foyer. “Who was screaming in here? I was getting the dressing rooms straightened up and thought it was sirens until I heard someone leaving.”

Patrice threw her arm around Alma Grace. “Lenny has the flu. Bridget won't let Kitty in the house and she's mad as hell. And Macy has it, too.”

Alma Grace blew a kiss toward the ceiling. “Thank you, Lord.”

Not rain, snow, sleet, or PMS could keep the Fannin sisters from the United Daughters of the Confederacy committee meeting that week. Even if the sickness had killed them, their spirits would have still hung on long enough to hover over the meeting. It was the one where they discussed putting Confederate flags on the graves of the fallen on Confederate Veteran's Memorial Day during the last week of April. And this year they were voting about whether to buy the next size bigger flag.

Sugar dressed in a cute little pink spring suit with a pencil-slim skirt, floral blouse under a matching fitted jacket, and gold jewelry. She hadn't felt up to going down to the Yellow Rose to get her hair done so she'd arranged for Stella to make a house call. And then she'd invited Gigi and Tansy.

Hair done.

Stella gone back to the shop.

Tansy in one bedroom getting dressed.

Gigi in another one.

Sugar sat down in a rocking chair and sighed. Dressing tired her out, and even though they'd argued, she was glad that Jamie had insisted on them having a driver that day. She simply had to get her energy back because after lunch with the committee in Sherman, they were going to stop by the grocery store to purchase ingredients for the first batch of new chili. After that they had to attend a meeting at the church concerning the annual Cadillac Easter egg hunt. After the way those hussies had treated Alma Grace, there was no way she was missing that meeting, either.

Floy had gotten the flu a day after Sugar and her sisters and there was no way she'd have the energy to fight them on every single solitary issue like she usually did. If Sugar played her cards right, she might even dethrone that old girl this year.

Gigi sat down on the blue velvet vanity bench with her back to the mirror. She wore chocolate brown slacks with a sweater set in off-white that looked great with her champagne-blond hair. A scarf with orange and yellow swirls put some color in her face and her signature Texas Longhorn earrings sparkled every time she moved her head.

“Who would have thought getting dressed would be such a chore?” she said.

“Turn around and put on some more blush. You still look like death warmed over,” Sugar said.

“Blush isn't going to help. I need fresh air and sunshine on my skin,” Gigi argued.

Tansy yelled from the hallway on her way to Sugar's bedroom. “Patrice said if I'm able to go to two meetings then she's bringing Dakshani home on Saturday. Poor baby will be glad to get back in his room where he's got a place to fly and play.” She crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Y'all as wore out as I am?”

She fluffed out her tiered gauze skirt in a swirl of red, white, and blue. Her royal blue blouse with billowing sleeves caught up at the wrist with wide cuffs was belted at the waist. The buckle, a Confederate flag, was done up in rhinestones and silver.

Sugar nodded. “That which does not kill us will make us stronger. We've got to talk the committee into bigger flags and this is our one chance in a million to boost Floy Gastineau off her throne at the Easter egg meeting. It's time for us to bite the bullet and start buying plastic eggs and stuffing them with candy. Kids don't eat real eggs anymore and they're a pain in the neck to dye every year but you know how set in her ways Floy is.”

“Honey, they are a pain in the ass, not the neck. I'm with you on the plastic eggs but who is going to stuff those six million fake eggs? And is this really the year to fight for more change after we've turned Cadillac on its ear by entering the chili cook-off?” Gigi asked.

“We're in hot water so we might as well fight for the plastic eggs while we're at it. On Saturday before Easter, everyone can bring a casserole for lunch and we'll make a day of putting candy into plastic eggs. We can make an assembly line,” Tansy said.

“Did you have a dream about it?” Gigi teased.

“Hell, no! My bird is over at Patrice's. He's my muse and the only dream I had while he was gone was the one about the chili. I'm sure his spirit was still in the house or I wouldn't have had that one,” Tansy flared up.

“Hey, don't get your panties in a wad,” Gigi said. “We got to save our energy and go in as a united front if we're going to get our flags and our plastic eggs both today.”

Sugar stood up. “Alma Grace called and said if we weren't too worn out to come by the shop after the church meeting. They've picked out a tent and some stuff for the cook-off that they want us to look at.”

Gigi groaned when she pushed up off the bench. “My bones feel like they are a hundred years old.”

“Stop your bitchin'. Those that endure until the end shall be…” Tansy said.

“Saved,” Sugar finished for her. “I can't believe you're quoting scripture.”

“Hey, I have a Bible somewhere in the house and I go to church. But I was thinking something more like those that endure until the end shall be called angels.”

Gigi led the way to the door. “Us, angels? You must've been really sick.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sugar snapped.

***

Gigi didn't give a rat's ass whether they put flags on the graves or not, whether they were faded and small, or whether they were big as king-size bedsheets and brand-spanking-new. Tansy was the one who'd followed in their mama's footsteps in the Daughters of the Confederacy, had served as president of the organization for two years, and had kept her sisters involved.

At least once a month, when they had a committee meeting to discuss whatever the hell was next on the calendar, they had a nice lunch in a decent restaurant. But that day Gigi hoped they still had potato soup on the lunch menu. Her stomach wasn't ready for anything heavy, not after that horrible illness.

Tansy looked up in the rearview mirror and caught Gigi's eye. “It's time our daughters stepped up and joined the organization.”

“Good luck with that,” Gigi said. “Carlene is going through a divorce and running a business. Can't you just see her getting all dressed up in something halfway conservative and going to a lunch in the middle of the week?”

Sugar looked out the side window from her place in the backseat of the minivan. “Don't look at me. Alma Grace is still fuming over the Easter program at church. I'm not even sure I can talk her into stuffing plastic eggs with us after she gets off work on Saturday. This is not a good time to approach her about joining anything.”

Gigi touched Sugar on the shoulder. “Didn't you hear about Sunday?”

“If you or Tansy didn't tell me, then no, I didn't hear about Sunday.”

“Have you seen Alma Grace?” Gigi asked.

“Every day.”

Tansy snapped her fingers and shook her head at Gigi. “Maybe that's Alma Grace's story to tell, Gigi.”

“If that's so, then she should have told her mama before now. Did she tell you about her date with that cop?” Gigi asked.

Sugar raised her chin a notch. “And I'm real glad that she listened when the good Lord spoke to her and told her that she could not take vengeance upon herself. Me, I'd have cracked that wine bottle over Lenny's head and then went to work on Kitty with the broken end.”

Tansy gasped.

“Don't be so shocked. I would have repented and promised to never do it again,” Sugar said.

Their driver parked the van right in front of the doors and hurried around the front to open doors for the ladies. “Y'all going to be about an hour and a half, right?”

“That's right, Larry. You can go do whatever you want and come back and get us if you don't want to wait,” Sugar said.

“I'm going to go to the hospital and have lunch with my wife in the cafeteria there. She works in housekeeping and it'll be a great surprise for her.” He smiled.

“Don't worry if you're a little late, and…” Sugar pulled a bill from her pocket and handed it to him. “Lunch is on us. We appreciate you driving.”

“Well, thank you. You are so sweet, Miz Sugar.”

“Don't be thinking that little gesture will win you any favors with those old barracudas waiting for us,” Gigi told her sister as they made their way inside the restaurant.

“God rewards those who are kind,” Sugar quipped.

***

Tansy ordered spaghetti with marinara sauce but after two bites she pushed her plate to one side and sipped sweet tea. She scanned the table for eight. Three were Fannins so she needed two more votes to carry the proposal. She couldn't count on Edna Green because she was friends with Floy and she'd vote against anything that Tansy suggested. The president already said that she didn't think they should spend any unnecessary money that year. That left three fairly new members on the committee that she might sway.

The president stood up and led the discussion against buying new flags because next year would be the 150th celebration of the end of the Civil War. In her opinion their money should be spent on a big blowout that year. They could approach the idea of new and bigger flags at that time. Until then the old ones would hold up one more year.

She ended with, “We need to have a serious membership drive. Two of us have been responsible for going to the cemeteries alone for the past ten years and putting the flags up for our holiday. Those of you”—she cut her eyes around at Tansy—“with daughters should be grooming them to take over their inherited responsibilities.”

“So Tansy, unless you are planning to buy the flags and put them out yourself, then I suppose we are ready for a vote,” she said.

Tansy stood up slowly. “Those flags are a disgrace to the Confederacy. They're faded and torn. Why should our daughters be inducted into an organization that cares more about a damned Valentine's dinner than buying decent flags for the cemetery on our Memorial Day? Now we can vote.”

Tansy was disappointed when the vote didn't go her way but by damn next year Patrice would be a member. They'd think they'd done gone to battle with a buzz saw when she made up her mind about flags or parties.

“One down, one to go. We didn't do too hot in that one. Hope we do better with the plastic eggs,” Gigi said as they made a side trip to the ladies' room at the end of the luncheon.

The president of the organization was coming out when Tansy opened the door. “Oh, pardon me. A word in private, Gigi,” she said.

“Whatever you've got to say to me, they can hear,” Gigi said.

“This has nothing to do with the Confederacy but I wanted to congratulate y'all on entering the chili cook-off. My husband is a member of the Beefeaters Team. Next year the wives of the Angus Association plan to get up our own team since y'all have broken the ice.”

“Why couldn't you say that in front of all of us?” Gigi asked.

The woman pulled a hundred-dollar bill from her pocket. “I wanted to give this to you anonymously to put toward your campaign and I don't want the Beefeaters to know about it,” she said sheepishly.

“Thank you,” Tansy said. “And it will be kept a secret.”

“I'll see to it that she's not president next year for the big celebration. We'll be voting in the fall and I'm making sure Patrice is a member before election,” Tansy said.

“How many years does a person have to be inside before they can be president? I forgot,” Sugar said.

“No one's ever been voted in right after joining. It's a big job,” Tansy said.

“Then put me up for the vote. When Edna finishes her term, I'll be president and I'll install Patrice as vice president and we'll sit back and watch her bring this business to the modern world standards and thinking,” Gigi said.

Tansy nodded seriously. “That could work. And we'll have a lot of clout because word will get around about the plastic eggs and the fact that we were the first women to enter the chili cook-off.”

“And win it,” Gigi said.

***

If Carlene had anything to do with fashion, baby-doll pajamas would be back in style that spring. She had updated the old seventies style, complete with bloomer bottoms, and she'd whipped up six pair to test the waters. She'd just finished creating one in bright yellow with a flowing, see-through top with spaghetti sequin straps. The bloomers had matching sequins scattered on them to glitter and flash in soft candlelight.

She looked up at the clock and laid all her things to one side. It was almost time for the church Easter egg committee and she was a member even though she was sporadic about attending. If her mama and aunts could go after being sick, there was nothing that she could use for an excuse not to be present.

Her mission was twofold. Someone had to be there to keep Aunt Sugar from scratching Kitty's eyeballs out. And to vote with her mama and Aunt Sugar to use plastic eggs filled with candy. She hadn't liked real eggs when she was a kid and that was twenty years before. With all the hype about bad eggs causing everything from salmonella to ingrown toenails these days, mothers would rather their kids got bad teeth from too much candy.

Alma Grace caught her in the foyer. “I'll go to the church on Saturday and help stuff plastic eggs if you can help vote out those nasty real eggs.”

“I'm holding you to that,” Carlene said.

Alma Grace nodded seriously. “You've got my word and that's as good as gold. And we'll guilt Patrice into helping us.”

Larry was sitting on the church porch, leaning against a porch post with his cowboy hat pulled down over his eyes, when Carlene arrived.

“You driving today?” Carlene asked.

He tipped up his hat with one finger. “It's a tough job but someone has to do it.” He grinned. “Your mama said to tell you to come to the back door. They're meeting in the fellowship hall.”

“Thanks.” Carlene stepped around him.

Floy sat at the end of a long table with her minions all lined up on the left side. On the right side were the three Fannin sisters, Kim, and Agnes. Carlene slid in beside her mother. The whole place had the feeling of a funeral about it—quiet, cold, and stiff.