The Red-Hot Chili Cook-Off (25 page)

She frowned and stood up. He didn't offer to help and if he had she would have slapped his hand away. She didn't need anything from Lenny, not even a helping hand.

“Again?” she asked.

“You lost me because you just couldn't hold on to me. You lost your marriage because of your temper. And you are going to lose this cook-off because of your anger. I'd wish you good luck but it would be wasted so I'll just say good-bye,” he told her.

“I kind of like that idea. Good-bye, Lenny,” she said.

Just like that she was free of him. She wasn't a loser. She'd won already because he was gone from her heart.

She checked the step stool each time before she put a foot on the bottom stair and had just finished spraying all the lace when a hand came out of the shadows to help her off the stool.

“Jack Landry, what are you doing here?” She put her hand in his and felt immediate heat from the inside flowing outward all the way to her cheeks.

“I thought I'd come by and see if everything was quiet. Didn't know if Tansy and Kitty might be taking the same watch.” He dropped her hand, folded the stool up, and set it behind the freezer.

“We want the mamas fresh for tomorrow so us girls are doing the watch. I'm taking first shift. Alma Grace is going to take over at eleven and then Patrice is coming in at four in the morning.”

“Want some company?”

“I'd love company,” Carlene said. “Want a beer or a glass of sweet tea?”

“I'm off duty so beer is good.”

He wore jeans and a white T-shirt, scuffed boots, and his hair still had water droplets, proving that he'd been in the shower not long before. She inhaled and got a whiff of his aftershave, something woodsy and tantalizing that was so Jack Landry.

She opened two beers, handed him one, and sat down at a picnic table. He took a swig and sat down across from her, his long legs stretched out and knees touching hers under the table.

“I didn't hear your motorcycle,” she said.

“Came in my truck in case I had to haul Tansy and Kitty back to the jail.”

“Why'd you come back, Jack? I always wanted to get away from north central Texas. It was my dream to live anywhere else on the planet. You got away and saw the world but then you came back to Cadillac. Why?” she asked.

“It's home, and if you had left, you'd have been drawn back just like I was. It might not be perfect but it's home. You still dream of leaving?”

She shook her head.

His knee put out enough heat to take care of half the planet in the dead middle of a cold winter. The night breeze was pleasantly cool but not chilly. She couldn't imagine how it would feel if his bare skin touched hers when pure old blistering heat flowed through two pair of jeans.

“No, I'm settled here now. I've got the shop and my family and I'm not leaving,” she said.

Jack sipped his beer again. “Not even if you don't win tomorrow?”

“Winning will make me very happy but it's not the end of the world if we don't win. Of course, I'm speaking for myself, not Aunt Tansy. You might do well to bring backup to the judging announcements if she doesn't win after what Kitty did with the cat.” She smiled.

“Will you go to dinner with me next Friday night?” he asked.

“Will you come to Mother's Day dinner with me at Mama's on Sunday?” she asked right back.

He grinned and she wanted to kiss him so bad that she had to down a third of her beer just to keep busy. “I will if you will.”

“Deal.” He reached across the table to shake hands.

She put hers in his and said, “Jack, I'm not rushing into anything. I want you to know that.”

“It's still a deal. Thanks for the beer. I'd better make the rounds and check on everyone else.”

“Thought you were off duty,” she said.

“I am but…” His phone rang and he reached inside his hip pocket for it. “Jack Landry, here.”

He was standing by the time he put it back. “Got a catfight going at the convenience store. See you later.”

“Fannins and Lovelles?” she asked.

“Agnes and Violet,” he hollered back at a dead run.

***

Alma Grace showed up at exactly the right time.

“The lace looks so much better! How did you do that? It even shines in the moonlight. Just wait until the sunlight hits it tomorrow. It'll look like it's been sprinkled with diamonds,” she beamed.

“Little bit of glitter spray did the trick. Did you catch a nap?”

Alma Grace shook her head. “I finished unpacking my things and put the rest of Mama's things in my suitcases. They're loaded in my car to take home to her on Sunday.”

“There's a pillow in the back of the van and the seats are down. I'm not sleepy. Go get a nap and when I can't keep my eyes open I'll come wake you. It's parked right behind the tent. You can duck under the tape,” Carlene said.

“Are you sure? It's my turn,” Alma Grace said.

“I'm sure. I've been doin' a lot of thinking and now I'm settling down to read a while. You could sleep at least an hour or two.”

“I'm not going to argue,” she said.

She'd gotten to the first sex scene when a shadow covered her light and she looked up to see Jack again. “Must've been some catfight.”

He sat down at the picnic table. “Not really. By the time I got there Ethan had shown up and had Violet cornered and Trixie was in the car with Agnes beside her.”

“What set it off this time?”

“You know how they are.” Jack shrugged. “Got another beer?”

***

Jack Landry wasn't about to tell Carlene that Violet had made a rude comment about Carlene being too fat to dress the way she did and that Agnes threatened to black both her eyes. He'd never understand why Kitty or any of those women thought Carlene was fat. She was tall, yes. She was curvy, oh God, yes! She was sexy as hell with all that gorgeous blond hair and those big green eyes. Her complexion was so smooth that he wanted to touch her face just to see if it felt like silk. Her stomach was flat; no fat rolls showing on her back beneath a skin-tight shirt that he'd like to peel off so he could kiss her from belly button to lips. But fat? From his standpoint, those women had an acute case of bullfrog-green jealousy.

He also wasn't going to tell her that he'd settled the catfight, seen to it that both women were safely on their way home, and that afterward he'd gone home. He'd tried to watch television. He'd tried to read a brand-new mystery book by James Lee Burke. Nothing worked so he'd finally driven back to the park to check on Carlene.

“Alma Grace runnin' late?” he asked.

“No, she's sleeping in the back of the van. She looked worn out so I told her I'd take it another hour or two,” Carlene explained.

Jack sat down beside her, shoulders touching, backs against the table, legs out and crossed at the ankles. “I heard that Rick Kelly is keeping company with Alma Grace. He's a good man and a fine police officer.”

“She likes him a lot. They'd make a good couple,” Carlene said.

“Good match. Both got that religious bend to them and come from good solid backgrounds.”

She laid her book down. “You ever think about getting married?”

“Is that a proposal?” He grinned.

“No, it is not!”

He put his arm around her. She fit well there, like a woman should. “I've had a couple of serious relationships but I was in the service and always moving around. Since I've been home there was one that might have been serious last fall but it just didn't work out. Remember I told you about her. Why?”

She laid her head on his shoulder. It felt right, like it should be there. “Did you ever feel like you were in limbo or that maybe you were moving too fast, either one?”

Her hair smelled like spray paint and coconut shampoo mixed up together. “Yes, to both. Those first two years I was home felt like limbo. I had Trixie and Marty and Cathy but they were like sisters. Darla Jean was like my cousin. Good friends, all of them, but I wanted a relationship. Then I found one and it moved too fast, burned out, and was over all in a few months.”

“How is Cathy?” she asked.

“Great. Excited about the baby. Excited to be married to her best friend. I feel like I'm going to be an uncle,” he answered.

“You like kids?”

“Oh, yeah. Love them.”

“What about chili? I mean really, really hot chili?” she asked.

He laughed out loud. “Now that was a change of the subject.”

“I know but I've had enough serious talk for one night,” she said.

Carlene Carmichael would never be dull, that was for absolute sure.

“I like chili and I like it hot.”

But
there
isn't any chili in the world as hot as you are,
she thought.

She didn't know when she fell asleep on his shoulder but when she opened her eyes, Patrice was standing there with a twelve-cup coffee pot, water and coffee in a bag, and a dozen donuts.

“Where's Alma Grace?” Patrice whispered.

Jack pointed to the van and put his finger over his lips. “Coffee looks good.”

“Anyone try to sabotage us?” she asked.

“Been pretty quiet except for a few pretty loud snores,” Jack answered.

Carlene yawned. “What time is it?”

“Gettin' close to daybreak. You can go home and get dressed. I brought my things to change in the van before the judges come around,” Patrice said.

“You stayed and let me sleep?” Carlene asked.

Patrice patted him on the shoulder. “You are a good man, Jack. I'm not going to have to work with sleepy, bitchy women all day. Remind me to buy you lunch someday.”

“I'll do that,” he said. “But I think right now I'll get on home and catch a few winks before the gates open. I have to be in uniform then.”

“We'll try to keep Mama and Kitty on opposite ends of the park,” Patrice said.

“I'll deputize you both if you can do the same with Agnes and Violet.”

Patrice poured water into the coffee pot. “Honey, those two old buzzards love to argue. It's what keeps them young and alive.”

“At least stick around and have some coffee. Your shoulder made a fine bed,” Carlene said.

“No, thanks. See y'all sometime around noon. Good luck.” He kissed Carlene on the forehead and disappeared into the darkness.

Patrice opened her mouth to say something but Carlene shook her head. “Not a word. Not a single word. It was wonderful and I like him.”

“If we win because he kissed you on the forehead, just think what'll happen if he really plants one right on your lips?” Patrice smiled. “Go home and get a couple of hours of real sleep. Your mama said you and Alma Grace are to be at her house at nine sharp to help bring the chili and the rest of the supplies out here. And you are to be dressed and have your hair done. And you're not going to believe it but Alma Grace told me that she was wrong to pray for you to reconcile with Lenny. I don't know what happened to change her mind but she had tears in her eyes when she told me.”

***

Alma Grace awoke in the back of a moving van and thought she'd been kidnapped. She had her phone in her hand and the first two numbers of 911 hit before she heard Carlene humming.

“Where are you taking me?” she yelled over the rumble of the wheels and the wind whipping through the open windows.

“Home. It's almost five o'clock. Patrice is taking care of the site now. We both slept.”

“But…”

“Jack came along and I rested on his shoulder.”

She crawled up into the passenger's seat. “That rotten Lenny or his mama didn't do anything to our tent?”

“No, and I didn't do anything to theirs. Can't speak for what Patrice might do between now and daybreak, but I was good.”

“Well, crap!”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I wanted a reason to get even with him. I was wrong all along, Carlene, and I apologize. I'll get down on my knees under the red light on Main Street and beg if you'll forgive me. You were right to leave him and not to listen to me about going back to him. He's a rotten old rat that doesn't even deserve a woman like you.”

“Well, thank you, Alma Grace. What changed your mind?”

In that moment, Carlene's world tilted right back to normal. Her heart shook off the heavy feeling and everything was right again for the first time since that morning when she found those red underpants.

“No thanks necessary. Just say that you'll forgive me. I'm so so sorry and I've seen the light, believe me, I saw it up close and personal and I'll tell you later about what changed my mind,” Alma Grace said.

“You are forgiven and I love you,” Carlene said.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I'll show you later today what I'm talking about even if God doesn't give me a sign to let the whole world see. I promise.”

“I don't care if I never see, Alma Grace. I'm just glad we're okay,” Carlene said.

Alma Grace had been looking for a sign from above about those two pictures of Lenny and Macy on her cell phone all week. She just needed something to show her the way. Something that said she should delete them or something that said it was all right to show them to Kim, who would definitely tell the right people to cause a great big hullabaloo between Bridget and Macy, and Lenny would be left with no one but his mama in his life.

She was hoping that he or his minions would try to sabotage their tent, or that they'd do something really mean like set fire to it and then she'd have her sign, but she had nothing.

It was enough to make her want to cuss like Patrice!

Carlene stirred the chili one more time so the aroma of their special blend would fill the judge's noses before they ever tasted it. Six judges lined up in front of the Red-Hot Bloomers stand, laid their clipboards with a blank page covering the stack of entries on the table, and eyed the whole display from back to front.

Alma Grace opened the freezer and removed six cups of ice cream with six special little wooden spoons on top imprinted with “Red-Hot Bloomers thank you.” She set one in front of each judge's station.

“Good morning,” Patrice greeted the judges with her best smile. “We realize that you are only allowed to taste the chili, itself, but in appreciation for all your work, we have an envelope for each of you. Inside you'll find a coupon redeemable anytime today for a bowl of chili with or without chips or condiments, a free glass of sweet tea, and another cup of ice cream.” She laid them on top of their clipboards as Josie carefully measured one fourth of a cup of chili into each hot-pink plastic bowl with the team logo printed on the side.

Isaac looked down the row and nodded. They all scooped up a spoonful and put it in their mouths.

“Holy smoke, that's hot!” Isaac grabbed the ice cream and shoveled two bites into his mouth before picking up his clipboard and writing.

“I taste a bit of Cajun. I like it,” Floy's husband wrote on his clipboard before he opened his ice cream.

Tip ate the whole sampling, pulled a snowy white hanky from his hip pocket, and wiped his brow. “Now that is some damn good chili.”

John, the owner of the Rib Joint, tasted, thought a few minutes, and tasted again. “I'd put chili on my menu with this recipe. Fine job, ladies.”

Barbara Culpepper, bless her heart and God love her soul, couldn't get to the ice cream fast enough. Steam rolled out her ears and she fanned her face with her clipboard, all the while reaching for a bottle of water in the shoulder purse hanging across her chest.

“Ice cream, darlin'.” Gigi opened it for her and stuck the little spoon in the middle. “It coats the palate and takes away the burn.”

Mayor Jim Burdette tasted, wrote on his clipboard, nodded at the ladies, and left his ice cream sitting on the table.

“Good luck to you,” he said as he moved to the next exhibition.

Carlene waited until they were at the next tent before she sat down at the picnic table. “Well? Aunt Tansy, you're the psychic. What do you think?”

“I'm not a bit worried, darlin'. We're having a party at Clawdy's this evening at seven o'clock. We'll all get our money from Patrice and Monday morning the newspaper from Sherman is coming to take one final picture…of the seven of us at Bless My Bloomers when we hang that picture of us over there above the credenza and set the trophy right below it. It's in the bag. Stop worrying now. In less than an hour the gates will open and we're going to get our ten points on the sheet for selling the most chili. We will completely sell out of all four batches,” Tansy said.

“Alma Grace, your opinion?” Carlene asked.

“Well, I think that after eating that chili, Barbara Culpepper may sing a little better come Sunday morning,” she said.

Carlene looked at Josie. “Mayor was on the fence. I wouldn't even play poker with him on a good night. Can't read his face a damn bit.”

“No strings of Spanish?” Gigi asked Josie.

“Not today. Today it's press one for English.”

Patrice sat down beside Carlene. “They're going to taste twenty kinds of chili and there won't be a nickel's worth of difference in any of it, but they won't forget ours or our tent. Mama, what were you talking about? Ten points?”

Gigi picked up a blue folder and waved it. “Seventy points for the chili. Ten points for the overall look of the tent or site. Ten points for keeping the site friendly and presentable, and the judges will be milling around individually all day to check on things like that. Ten points for how much money each tent makes to give to the fire and police department.”

“Does it say that we have to charge five dollars a bowl?” Sugar asked.

“Yes, it does,” Gigi read aloud from the folder. “No booth or exhibitor can charge more than five dollars per serving but each booth or exhibitor can add drinks, condiments, or other items to their sale to make it more appealing. I do not intend to break a single rule and get disqualified. We are breaking ground for women of the future even though I will not do this ever again. One trophy is enough for me.”

Agnes waved from the tape at the back of the tent. “Hey, y'all! You been judged yet? I'd duck under this tape but that sorry ass Lenny might say that you had more in your tent than seven and get you thrown out.”

“We've been judged, Miz Agnes. Heard you had a little mix-up last night,” Sugar said.

“Violet don't have any idea when to shut her mouth. I swear that woman's got a magic mirror in her house and when she looks in it she sees Marilyn Monroe or Betty Boop instead of an old, chubby woman who's trying to outrun wrinkles and age,” Agnes declared.

***

“You want a glass of sweet tea, Miz Agnes?” Alma Grace asked.

“I'd just love one. It'll get me through until I can get through the gates. I've got my car parked across the street and my lawn chair out beside it.”

Alma Grace scooped ice into a hot-pink cup and filled it with sweet tea. She carried it to the back of the tent and handed it across the yellow tape.

“Thank you, honey.”

“Now what was it that caused the mix-up last night?” Alma Grace asked.

Agnes crooked her finger for Alma Grace to come closer. When all that separated them was six-inch-wide yellow plastic tape, Agnes cupped her hand over Alma Grace's ear and said, “She called Carlene fat. Crazy old bitch is so round if I ever knocked her down she'd roll all the way to Mexico so what right has she got to call anyone fat. It came straight out of Kitty's mouth and Lenny said the same thing from what Violet said.”

“Oh, really!” Alma Grace said.

Agnes backed away and nodded very seriously. “I disagreed and I said so and that damn store clerk called Jack.”

“Well, thank you, Miz Agnes. I disagree, too,” Alma Grace said.

“I'll be seein' y'all soon as they open the gates. I got to keep an eye on my investment today,” Agnes said.

“Darlin', you might want to set your lawn chair somewhere between us and Lenny's team's site. Wouldn't want you to miss something wonderful when they announce the winner,” Alma Grace said.

Agnes gave her the thumbs-up sign.

God had given her the sign she'd been waiting on. She wasn't expecting it to arrive with red hair, wearing a pair of faded stretch jeans and a Clawdy's T-shirt. But then God most usually worked in mysterious ways, just like he had when she wanted to take vengeance in her own hands.

Alma Grace dug her cell phone out of her purse, held up a finger, and stepped outside the tent. “Kim called a few minutes ago and I didn't have time to talk. I'm going to step outside and call her back,” she said.

She propped a hip on the bar holding the teeter-totter and pushed the buttons. Kim picked up on the third ring.

“Sorry, darlin', that I didn't have time to talk earlier but I had to get all dolled up for this affair. We just had our judging and now we're waiting for the gates to open,” Alma Grace said.

“No apology necessary. I've been on the phone with my mama. She heard that Lenny was downright rude to Carlene last night. Kitty was bragging about it,” Kim said.

“Oh, really,” Alma Grace said.

Thank
you, sweet Jesus, for giving me another sign. You're just putting them out there like politicians' banners on election year and I'm truly grateful,
Alma Grace prayed.

“Kitty thought it was funny but Mama is just livid. And did you hear that Agnes and Violet got into it again over someone saying Carlene was fat. Lord, I'd give anything to have her curves. Hell, I wouldn't mind wearing a sixteen if I could look like her,” Kim went on.

“Ain't it the truth? I'm about to send you a couple of pictures. You do what you see fit with them. I just do not want them to trace back to me even if you have to work them through a dozen people.” Alma Grace held the phone out from her ear and presto they were immediately in Kim's phone.

“What am I looking at?” Kim asked. “Oh. My. God! Is this what I think it is? How did you get this?”

“Like I said, send it through at least a dozen people. It is date and time stamped and that little picture of the beach chair by the door should tell them what hotel it's in,” Alma Grace said.

“Oh, honey, I know just where to start this bit of news. It should hit Bridget's phone by one o'clock at the latest, right before it gets to Macy's.”

Yes, sir, Agnes deserved to have ringside seats when the shit hit the fan.

***

Jack and his officers removed the plastic tape at eleven o'clock and the gate was opened by cutting a bright red ribbon across two poles that supported the Cadillac City Park sign. People poured in and children took off for the playground equipment. Old folks set up lawn chairs with coolers beside them. Those who didn't eat chili might want a bologna sandwich for lunch. No one wanted to miss the fun or the visiting.

The day was beautiful. The sun was bright. The television meteorologist had promised high eighties on the thermometer. A few fluffy white clouds floated around but not a single dark rain cloud threatened the day.

Patrice started fidgeting when, five minutes after the public was allowed in the park, they still didn't have a single customer. She stepped outside the tent and looked around. “No one is buying from any of the vendors. Why would they line up, fight over parking spaces and walk from three blocks away, and not buy?”

Violet walked past and stuck her nose up in the air, went straight to Lenny's Chili Kings' tent, and bought the first bowl of chili sold that morning. She carried it right past the Red-Hot Bloomers and told Patrice, “It will give me great pleasure to announce that Lenny has won this afternoon. His chili, as always, is flawless.”

Patrice turned around to face her six team members. “I'd forgotten that she gets to announce who wins.”

“Well, ain't that nice,” Agnes said.

Patrice jumped. “You aren't supposed to sneak up on me like that, Miz Agnes.”

“I didn't sneak up on nobody. I come to buy chili. I want it with corn chips, onions, and mustard squirted over the top. And I heard that y'all are givin' away ice cream with yours. Nice touch.” Agnes pulled five dollars from her pocket and laid it on the table. “How much did you bring?”

“Of what?” Patrice asked.

“Chili. Lenny's got three big cookers full. I done got the count on all of the vendors. They all got three cookers but the Bank's tent right straight across over there. They've got four. So how many did y'all bring?”

“Four,” Gigi said. “Should we have brought more?”

“Four is good. Lenny might sell out before you but don't get excited if he does. You're going to make more for the cause because you got more to sell.”

Josie fixed Agnes a Frito chili pie in a bowl with a spoon stuck in the middle, refilled her tea glass, and handed her an ice cream cup, all on a sturdy plastic tray with a napkin and wooden spoon for her ice cream on the side.

“Now that's service. Y'all are doin' a knockout job. You'd think you'd been at this for years. Hell, next year I might put in a site just to pester Violet. I could get Cathy and the girls and Jack to help me,” Agnes said. “Get ready for a rush here in about ten minutes.”

A few people stopped by to speak to Agnes and, just like she said, in ten minutes not only did the Red-Hot Bloomers have a rush, the line reached ten yards out into the park. In thirty minutes the first cooker was half gone and all seven of the team worked furiously.

Patrice took the money.

Alma Grace put an ice cream cup, napkin, and wooden spoon on each tray.

Gigi scooped ice.

Sugar poured sweet tea.

Tansy kept the table restocked with chips and the mustard bottle filled.

Josie refilled onion and relish bowls.

Carlene dipped chili.

At noon they'd emptied the first cooker and were working on the second. Another batch had been poured up and was heating. Gigi stirred it often to keep it from sticking and filled cups with ice in her spare time.

There was a lull at a few minutes past one. Patrice swiped the sweat from her forehead with a paper towel and took stock of the remaining supplies. They were working on the third cooker of chili and the last one was heating. They'd sent Kim for the last batch of ice cream to put in the freezer. It looked like maybe they'd gauged things just about right. Half the napkins were gone and they were down to a little less than half the chips. Josie had chopped way more onions than they needed and they'd have enough mustard to last through the next hundred years.

The next round hit before she had time to sit down, and at two thirty, they were completely sold out.

“Now what?” she asked.

“Now, according to your father, who had a team for years, when you sell out, you take your money to any one of the judges so he can mark your paper that you've had a sell-out. Then you are free to tear down your serving table, clean up your site, pull a picnic table out to the park, and relax until judging is done,” Tansy said.

***

Alma Grace kept a close eye on the crowd but she didn't see Macy or Bridget. She'd seen the signs but patience was not one of her better virtues. Still if God gave her the signs, she trusted Him to produce the results.

She helped box up the leftover plastic items and paper goods. Carlene and Patrice took the empty containers and the cookers to the van and the whole place was tidied up without even a wadded-up paper towel on the grass. Gigi and Tansy folded up the table they'd used to serve from and the three mamas carried a picnic table down to where Agnes was sitting under the shade of a big pecan tree.