“Well, thank you, I think. But Marty don’t deserve that,” Alma Grace argued.
“Ah, she’ll shoot him down so fast that he’ll wonder what in the devil hit him. It’s not as good as the flowers and it’ll take some heat off of us,” Patrice said.
“But you lied,” Alma Grace whispered.
“I did not lie. I’m sure at some time in his life Lenny looked at boots and hats. How could he not? Macy wears boots to work every day and Lenny’s boss wears cowboy boots.”
They’d both shut their bedroom doors and Patrice was changing the newspaper scattered under Dakshani’s bar when she felt a presence behind her. A peek over her shoulder revealed Yancy sprawled out on her sofa in Longhorn lounging pants and a thermal shirt. He’d slipped in the door and she hadn’t even heard him.
Yancy adjusted a throw pillow under his neck and covered up with a throw from the back of the sofa. “Skunk sprayed under my house and I didn’t deserve his attention the way that Lenny did. Do you mind if I crash here until morning? I’ll be out of the house before y’all even wake up. I’ll call Jack tomorrow morning and he can send out animal control to take care of the skunk.”
Patrice dropped a kiss on his forehead. “You don’t have to sleep on the sofa. You can sleep with me.”
“The sofa is fine. What is that thing in the corner?”
“That is Mama’s psychic bird, Dakshani. He’s roped down and roosting for the night.”
Yancy set her hormones to humming when he smiled. “So I’m sharing the room with a psychic bird? Will he tell me my fortune in the morning?”
Patrice kissed him—hard, long, and lingering. “I can tell your fortune right now. You are hot as hell and you are going to bed with me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He cupped her face with his hands and kissed her again—hotter, longer, more passionate. “But you’ll have to be quieter than usual or else take a ribbing tomorrow from your cousins. I love you, Patrice.”
“I love you, too, and, darlin’, I can be quiet,” she said.
“It’ll be the first time.”
***
“Well, Tansy!” Gigi said.
“That makes me miss Dakshani. I swear it’s your voice that he talks in,” Tansy said.
“Carlene says the bird is fine. They’ve got him set up in the corner by that window and he’s prancing from one end to the other squawking at the neighbor’s cat,” Gigi reassured her.
Sun poured into the room through floor-to-ceiling windows in the sitting room at Tansy’s house. She lounged on a plush brown leather love seat with end tables and a coffee table in front of her. Gigi had claimed one of the pale yellow, buttery soft recliners that made up the sitting arrangement. A pitcher of sweet tea, a silver bucket of ice, and three glasses were set in the middle of the coffee table.
Tansy poured two glasses and propped herself up on the throw pillows. “There’s no way that cat can get in the house, is there? Poor Dakshani would have a heart attack if that cat chased him.”
“Of course not. Now tell me, are we going to live and get even with Violet for giving this to us?”
“Of course we’re going to live. We have to win the chili cook-off. The woman in the mirror scared the hell out of me this morning. I think I had the flu worse than you did. Where is Hank? I sent Alex off to work just to get him out of my hair. He’s smothering the hell out of me. The nurse said my fever broke but I still feel weak as a kitten.”
“That’s what the nurse told me this morning, too, so I sent Hank to work, too, and then I made Carlene drive me over here. If I had to stay in that bedroom another day I’d climb the walls.”
Tansy set her glass back on the table and slung her legs over the side of the love seat. “While I was drifting between this world and the next, all I could think about was chili. Even without Dakshani here, I had a vision about the cook-off. Of course we won. Oh, and look what I got in the mail today.” She handed Gigi a lovely get-well card. “Read the note inside.”
“I’m enclosing my great-grandmother’s recipe for war-time chili. It only calls for a cup of meat and lots of kidney beans. My husband is on the Money-Maker chili team and he refuses to even look at it. Since you all have opened a door to us women, we are planning to form a team next year and I’ll be serving war-time chili for sure. Thank you, Millie Donavan.”
“Looks like we really did open the way for a new bunch of teams. There might be enough money in a couple of years to build a brand-new fire station.” Gigi handed the card back to her. “Now tell me about your dream.”
“I was wearing green beads like a Mardi Gras necklace only it had seven little chili peppers hanging on it. And we were all stirring a pot of chili,” Tansy wheezed.
“Was it a big black cauldron and we all showed our boobs so we could get more necklaces?” Gigi asked.
“Don’t make fun of me. I’m telling you about my vision. You are the necklace, Gigi. You make the basic chili that we all like and then we all gather round the pot and put in one ingredient. We’ll write it down and put it in your jewelry safe. When we win, then we’ll make it the same way every year.”
“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.”
Chapter 15
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 o
ff-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.
The Red-Hot Chili Cook-Off Page 19
