The Red-Hot Chili Cook-Off (8 page)

“Which room do you want?” Carlene's heart grew heavier every day. Maybe she should just sell the shop to her cousins and move away.

“The biggest one. I'm moving all my bedroom furniture into it. Jamie can sleep on the couch or in the bathtub for all I care. Tansy, I feel a sinking spell coming on just thinking about kissing his lips after they'd been on Kitty Lovelle's. I need a good stiff shot of brandy,” Sugar said.

“Mama!” Alma Grace raised her voice.

Sugar dabbed at her eyes with a tissue that Carlene handed her. “Don't you talk to me in that tone after what you did last night. Hurry up, Tansy, or y'all are going to have to scrape me up off the floor.”

“We ain't got brandy in the house but I've got something that'll keep you from fainting.” Josie disappeared from the beading room and returned in two minutes with a red plastic cup of clear liquid.

“Drink it down, Miz Sugar. Don't come up for air; just chug it right down,” Josie said.

Carlene was dreaming. It was all a crazy nightmare. This wasn't happening. She pinched her leg and it hurt like hell. Aunt Sugar drinking? The world was coming to an end.

“Why would you bring me water?” Sugar asked.

“It'll help. I promise.” Josie grinned.

Sugar turned it up and gulped three times. She slammed the cup down on the table and gasped like a fish out of water for a full minute before she could speak. “My God! That was not water.”

“Nope, and you didn't faint. You might have a little trouble with your balance. Tequila does that sometimes, but you ain't going to faint,” Josie said. “Now I've got to get back to work. Y'all clear on out of here and give me some room. I've had all the drama I can stand for one day. I'm an old woman.”

Old, nothing. You're like Agnes. You'll be kickin' long after the world comes to an end.
Carlene wished that she had the nerve to tell her Aunt Sugar that she could not move into one of the spare bedrooms in the same authoritative tone that Josie had sent them all out of the beading room. She couldn't refuse Sugar but maybe Uncle Jamie would be truly sorry by Monday. Surely three days would be enough fasting and praying. After all, he hadn't committed adultery.

How
long
would
it
take
you
to
forgive
Lenny?
her conscience asked.

“Three days past eternity,” she muttered.

“What's that about eternity?” Tansy asked.

Carlene raised a shoulder. “I was just thinking out loud.”

“We're going to take Sugar to Clawdy's,” Tansy said. “We need to talk about this over coffee until she settles down and you girls need to get back to work. But I'm swearing on Granny Fannin's Bible right now that this is not the end of that stunt with the candlesticks.”

***

Patrice whispered in Tansy's ear, “Try your damnedest to talk her out of this idea. Carlene sure don't need this in her life right now.”

Alma Grace went to help a new bride who'd come in for fancy white undergarments. Patrice grabbed Carlene's hand and led her to her office across the hall from the beading room. She shut the door, motioned toward an overstuffed velvet chair in front of her desk, and pulled a bottle of scotch from a drawer.

“Sit,” she said as she poured two fingers in a tumbler. She handed it to Carlene and said, “Drink.”

Carlene did what she was told and then whispered, “She won't really move in here, will she?”

“If she stays very long, she'll find a cook. Aunt Sugar can't boil water and she doesn't like eating café food all the time. She'll either be gone by Monday or there'll be someone here to do the cooking and cleaning. You won't have to make a bed or worry about mildew in the toilet and we'll all gain ten pounds before Aunt Sugar decides that Uncle Jamie is forgiven.”

“God hates me,” Carlene said. “And I didn't do a thing but make that pair of red bikini underpants.”

Patrice poured another drink and handed it to Carlene. “Lenny's Mama should have drowned him at birth. He's the cause of every bit of this. And to think that he smashed up Granny's candlesticks like that.”

Carlene looked long and hard at the square bottle of scotch. “I'd have another if I didn't need to work all afternoon. Why would he do that, Patrice? It's the only thing I asked for and now Mama will hire Tip Gordon. I know she will.”

Patrice perched a hip on the desk. “I hope she does. Hell, he's the best divorce lawyer in the whole state. Carson might be the best in north Texas, but Tip could sell a cigarette lighter to the devil.”

“But why would he smash those candleholders?” Carlene asked again.

“Because some men are born stupid and Lenny is Kitty's son, isn't he? That gives him a double dose of dumb. Your punishment for marrying Lenny was having Kitty for a mother-in-law. I'm surprised you didn't poison her long ago,” Patrice said.

“She sprinkles strychnine on her cereal like sugar. It's vitamins to her, so poison wouldn't do the trick. I'm not sure a stake through the heart could kill that woman.” Carlene giggled.

Patrice smiled. Thank God for good scotch. It cured a multitude of problems. She had faith that her mama could talk Sugar out of moving into Bless My Bloomers. No one, not even Sugar, could out-talk Tansy Cordell. If worse came to worst, Tansy would start talking about her psychic powers telling her that Jamie had already repented. Yes, ma'am, Tansy would take care of it.

Customers arrived in a steady flow most of the afternoon—enough to keep Alma Grace busy but not enough that Patrice had to come out of her office to help wait on them. She peeked in on Carlene several times during the day but she hardly looked up from the table where she and Josie designed and decorated corsets all afternoon.

By four o'clock she had convinced herself that it had all blown over and that her mother had gotten the job done. Then the front door opened and Aunt Sugar's voice floated down the hall.

“Follow me, boys. I'll show you exactly where to set up the bed and put my things. Girls, I'm here. I only brought enough for one closet so I don't need your help. Y'all just keep on working. Carlene, honey, we'll get burgers for supper tonight and decide how we're going to manage without a cook after that.”

Patrice's forehead hit the desk with a thud. The whole damn world had turned upside down. First Lenny whoring around and now Aunt Sugar moving into Bless My Bloomers. What next?

Alma Grace stared at the bowl of cold cereal. “Daddy, what are we going to do?”

Jamie shook his head slowly from side to side. “Can you cook?”

“I can make ham sandwiches and open a can of soup.”

“Then I guess we'll let Miss Clawdy's feed us breakfast and lunch and we'll eat ham sandwiches for supper. And just so you know, I did not kiss Kitty Lovelle. She kissed me and I backed away from her, left her standing right there in the middle of the street. I did not buy your Mama that ring to appease my conscience either. I bought it because I love her and the sapphires reminded me of her eyes,” Jamie said.

“I believe you. Kitty is mad because Lenny isn't getting his way and she's out to destroy what she can. I'll talk to Mama.”

“And until she comes to her senses, I'll worship at the CNC church with you. I'm not sitting in the same church with her and Kitty,” Jamie said.

Alma Grace pushed the half-eaten bowl of cereal aside.

Dammit!

She didn't even bow her head and ask for forgiveness for thinking bad words. Instead she yelled it in her mind…
dammit, dammit, dammit!
There went any flirting with Jack Landry or sharing a hymn book or eating cookies with him. She'd have to sit beside her father and he'd insist upon sitting as close to the front as possible.

“Got to get to work. You have a good day and I'll see you at noon at Clawdy's,” Jamie said.

“Should I bring Mama?” Alma Grace asked.

“Only if she's repented of accusing me of something I did not do and is ready to apologize to me,” Jamie said.

Double dammit!

Sugar Magee had never admitted a sin in her life. Her wings didn't have the first sign of a smudge of dirt on them and her halo was so shiny and straight that even the angels envied her. There would be a foot of snow in Cadillac right in the middle of July before Sugar apologized to Jamie. It was going to be a long spring at Bless My Bloomers.

She fumed all the way to work that morning but when she arrived and the aroma of fresh-baked cinnamon rolls hit her, she smiled. Her mama had brought her cook so things were looking up.

“Maria?” Alma Grace looked around the kitchen.

“She's on vacation, remember? Sit down and have some cinnamon rolls. I got them over at Clawdy's this morning. How are you holding up, darlin'? Did your daddy send me any messages?” Sugar asked.

Her blond hair was tucked back behind her ears but the curls were fighting their way out of confinement. Her blue eyes searched Alma Grace's face for good news.

“Daddy said that you need to apologize for not trusting him. He says that the woman kissed him and he backed off from her so he didn't do anything and that he bought you the ring because the sapphires reminded him of your pretty blue eyes.”

“I'm not apologizing for a problem I didn't create.”

Alma Grace cut a warm cinnamon roll right out of the middle of the pan and poured a tall glass of milk. “Mama, you don't cook. Carlene only makes what she can heat up from the frozen section of the grocery store. You hate takeout food. How long do you think you can hold out like this?”

“Cinnamon rolls aren't bad, are they?” Sugar said.

Alma Grace took a deep breath and pulled out the big guns. “Kitty finds out that you are making daddy fast in the bedroom, I bet what she'll be taking to the house won't be roast and potatoes.”

“She wouldn't!” Sugar gasped.

“I think that she's proven that she would in a heartbeat,” Alma Grace said.

***

The aroma of hot cinnamon slipped up the stairs, through the crack under Carlene's door, and made its way through the feather pillow she'd crammed over her head to keep out the noise of Aunt Sugar's snores.

A week ago she'd packaged up a cute little bright red outfit and rang up the sale to Bridget who was going to Vegas with her sugar daddy. That little red pair of panties didn't have a tenth of a yard of fabric in them. Hell, they didn't have enough material in them to sag a clothesline and yet they'd turned her world, her family, and the whole town of Cadillac upside down.

She carefully removed the pillow from her head and got an even stronger dose of the cinnamon rolls. What would the scent of cooking do for sales? Would it make the customers hungry and they'd leave without buying anything?

She rolled out of bed, peeked out the door, and made a mad dash to the bathroom before Aunt Sugar claimed it. Mama said that Sugar always took two hours to get presentable in the morning. She didn't go to breakfast without checking for stray eyebrows and chipped fingernail polish, and saying her morning prayers. Carlene didn't know if Sugar prayed in the bathroom but she didn't have time to wait two hours before she went to work.

She passed Sugar on the landing on her way back to her bedroom. Fully dressed in a cute little sundress and sandals, her makeup was perfect, and her earrings glittered in the sunlight filtering in from a bedroom window.

“Good mornin', darlin'. Did you know that you snore?” Sugar asked.

“Yes, ma'am. And good morning to you, Aunt Sugar.” Carlene smiled.

“You're runnin' a little late. Alma Grace and I've already had devotionals and I ordered cinnamon rolls from Clawdy's. Trixie was good enough to deliver them for me.”

“Guess I'd better get on the ball if I want to grab one. Patrice loves cinnamon rolls and she'll eat them all,” Carlene said.

“After morning prayers, I'll be back downstairs. Now you run along and get dressed in something pretty. If Lenny comes by again, you want to look nice.” Sugar blew her a kiss.

Carlene dressed in a fitted bright blue dress with a scoop neck and long sleeves. It was Friday and the appointment calendar said that two wedding parties were coming from Sherman, so Alma Grace would need help. She picked up a necklace of chunky blue, yellow, and red stones wet with sparkling crystals between the different colors and fastened it around her neck, then added the matching bracelet and earrings. She carried her high heels down the steps and padded barefoot to the kitchen.

She took one look at the pan of cinnamon rolls and said, “Shit, Alma Grace! You can't take them right out of the middle. That's not playing fair.”

Patrice caught the last sentence as she pushed the door open. “She's right. No taking them out of the middle. Did Aunt Sugar get up this early and get food already?”

“She gets up early every morning. We have devotionals before I come to work.” Alma Grace ignored them and removed her second cinnamon roll from the center of the pan. “And she is always dressed with her makeup done and jewelry on, too.”

Patrice cut two big rolls from the middle of the pan. “We'll treat this like a Scrabble board. I'm playing off Alma Grace's choice. So praying is done for the day?”

Alma Grace sighed. “Oh, no! Mama is upstairs doing her morning prayers now. And Daddy says he's going to church at the CNC with me until she gets over her hissy and that means I can't sit beside or flirt with Jack Landry. Come on Pat-tee, help me out here.”

“You call me that again and I'll smack you right in the mouth. You know I hate nicknames,” Patrice said.

Alma Grace slid a nasty look toward Carlene.

“Don't look at me. I didn't make Jamie kiss Kitty or Kitty kiss Jamie or your mama move in here,” Carlene said.

Patrice slapped Alma Grace on the shoulder. “Stop blaming Carlene for everything that happens. I swear if you got a pimple you'd figure out a way to make it her fault.”

Alma Grace stuck her tongue out at Patrice. “But she promised to love him for better or worse.”

Josie pushed her way into the kitchen. “This place smells wonderful.”

“Alma Grace took hers out of the middle,” Carlene tattled.

“She deserves it this morning, with what she's going through. Can't be easy for her mama and daddy to be at odds. This is a really nice treat this morning,” Josie said.

Carlene smiled. “I could smell cinnamon all the way in my bedroom. I'm wondering if our customers will get a whiff of what's cooking and think they want to go to Clawdy's rather than buy under-britches.”

“I can fix that,” Patrice said. “I'll call over to Clawdy's and have Cathy make two dozen cookies every day and put them on the credenza in the foyer. Carlene, you call your mama and tell her to bring in that two-gallon crystal jar with a spout on the side that we used at your wedding for sweet tea and we'll put it out there, too. Feed the customers and give them something to drink and they'll stick around to buy more stuff. I can make sweet tea even if I can't cook worth a damn. I'll keep it full and pick up the cookies on the way in to work each morning.”

Alma Grace slapped her forehead. “Why didn't we think of that before now?”

“You are a genius, Patrice.” Carlene smiled.

“Hey, we could get some napkins printed with our logo on them, too, if this goes over real well,” Alma Grace offered. “It's nine o'clock. Time to open the doors for business. Oh, there's Aunt Gigi pulling up at the curb.”

Carlene shoved the last bite of her cinnamon roll into her mouth and followed Alma Grace to the door. Gigi slung it open and stepped inside just seconds after it was unlocked. The little bell at the top jingled but Gigi did not smile.

“Bad news,” she said.

“Daddy didn't kill Lenny, did he?” Carlene held her breath.

“No, far as I know Lenny is still breathing but not because I want him to be. I smell cinnamon. Let's take this to the kitchen.”

Carlene waited until her mother had rolls on a plate and a cup of coffee before she asked. “Okay, Mama, spit it out.”

“I called Tip and he had a phone conference with Carson. Lenny is all hot air and shit, honey. He's spent every dime of y'all's savings on his trips with that bimbo and your joint checking is wiped clean,” Gigi told her.

“Which means?” Patrice asked.

“Tip is going to fight for half the equity in the house. Lenny can either buy you out or he'll have to sell it and give you your portion but you're going to lose money when you consider that you put up the whole down payment on it,” Gigi said.

Carlene sighed. “I don't care. He can have it. I just want my maiden name back and I don't want to have to sell Bless My Bloomers. I guess I should go start another checking account in my name only with my paycheck this week.”

Gigi nodded. “Carson is proposing that Lenny keep the house and his truck. You keep your van and your wedding rings and the business.”

“It's not fair,” Josie said. “Not after that stunt with your granny's candlesticks. You need to figure out something else and hit him where it hurts. Tell him he can have those damned old rings and you'll take cash money for them.”

“There's nothing short of shooting the bastard that would make him hurt,” Gigi said.

“What does he prize more than anything?” Alma Grace asked.

“Duh! His women. But if we shot them all, the female population in Grayson County would be decimated,” Patrice answered.

“The chili cook-off,” Carlene whispered. “We could whip him at the chili cook-off next month. He'd just die if he lost to a team of women, especially if I was on the team. I'll sell my rings to buy what we need.”

“There's never been women brave enough to enter that world. Some have talked about it but only in whispers and you aren't selling your rings for that. You can sell them and give the money to a charity,” Gigi said.

“What world?” When Tansy entered a room, a force preceded her that said for everyone to take a step back and listen up.

“The chili cook-off. We're going to beat Lenny this year and take the trophy. Lenny prizes those five trophies on the wall of his man cave more than anything. Every time his team won the past five years, he gloated for days and days about it. Is there something in the rule book that says women can't enter?” Carlene said.

“They never have but I bet it's not in the rules,” Gigi answered.

“Never have what?” Sugar breezed into the room and headed toward the coffee pot.

“The chili cook-off,” Tansy said. “We're about to take Lenny to the ground at the chili cook-off.”

“You know what people will say if you win, right?”

“Who cares what people will say, Aunt Sugar,” Patrice exploded loudly.

Tansy took the stand and the room went quiet. “They're going to say that none of us can cook and we cheated. And Patrice, if you want a clean win, you'd better care. Lenny is going to say that we won because our husbands gave us the tips for good chili. I think there's still one of those cheap trophies in our attic somewhere from when Alex had a team. And Hank was on Lenny's team last year, remember?”

“Who gives a shit what he says or thinks? If we win, that means he loses. Didn't Grandpa Fannin make chili for the cook-off in his day? Hell, we can surely follow a recipe,” Patrice argued.

Sugar nodded. “Yes, he did and I bet his recipes are in the attic at my house. I brought a lot of that stuff home with me when Mama passed on. Who all are going to be on our team?”

“Sisters, cousins, and Josie. That's seven and the limit,” Gigi pointed at her sisters. “We're going to do this. We'll hit him where it hurts and take that trophy away from him.”

“Whose kitchen are we going to use?” Tansy asked.

“Not mine. I'm living right here,” Sugar declared.

“Well, there's a kitchen here and it's never used for much so we'll make our chili right here. The girls can run the business and we'll test recipes until we find just the right one to whip the Chili Kings,” Gigi said.

“We can't have the smell of chili in the store while we're trying to sell merchandise,” Carlene argued.

“Then we'll pick out our recipe, shop for the ingredients, and make it in the evenings. By morning, the smell will be gone,” Tansy said. “I've got an idea. Gigi and I will take that other bedroom upstairs so that if it gets late, we can stay over. I'll call the house and have some furniture brought in today.”