The Red-Hot Chili Cook-Off

by Carolyn Brown

  The Easter bunny finished giving the kids the candy and hopped over to the patio. He pulled an envelope from his basket and handed it to Sugar. “Found this in the bottom with your name on it.”

  She carefully opened it and read the note: “Dear Miz Sugar, this is a donation for the Red-Hot Bloomers Team and a thank-you for a lovely party today. My brother is on the Hellfire Team and he gives me grief about women never being able to make chili like he can. Next year I’m proving him wrong and want to thank you for paving the way for us girls.”

  Sugar tucked the money into her pocket along with the note. She’d share it with her sisters, later, but right then she wanted to watch the children pick up all those lovely plastic eggs.

  ***

  Dusk was setting when Patrice kissed Yancy good night on the front porch. “You made a cute Easter bunny.”

  “Did you want to pull my ears or my tail?” he asked.

  “Oh, honey, I wanted to tear that costume right off you and pull something else altogether,” she said.

  “Then I’ll make arrangements to rent it sometime. I love you, Patrice. Today was fun. I told Jamie that I’d be the bunny again next year. Next up on the agenda is the cook-off. You won’t be too disappointed if you don’t win, will you? That chili your mamas brewed up was some wicked stuff.” He strung kisses down her neck, her shoulder, and all the way to her fingertips.

  She watched him drive away until the taillights disappeared, then grabbed the doorknob only to have it swing open from the inside. Carlene handed her a glass of sweet tea and motioned her toward the sofa.

  “Let’s talk chili cook-off now that Easter is done,” she said.

  “But shouldn’t Alma Grace be here?”

  “She doesn’t deserve it. Didn’t you see the way she’s been all happy for the first time in a year and not once today did she offer to pray, not that I’d have stopped her after those last two prayers. God, that was beautiful,” Carlene said.

  Patrice set her glass down on the end table and threw her head back on the sofa. “That witch is having sex, isn’t she? She’s the religious one of us and she gets to have sex today? What’s wrong with this picture?”

  “Evidently, God loves her more than us.”

  “How long has it been for you?” Patrice asked.

  “Three months before I left so right at four months.”

  “Three months. Shit! What was going on?”

  Carlene took a deep breath. “I thought it was because I’d gained ten pounds and was totally unattractive to him. I made new lingerie and paraded in front of him in it. I asked him outright finally and he said that he’d been so busy that he was tired.”

  “Well, that was the God’s gospel truth. He was too busy banging other women,” Patrice said.

  “I’ll always wonder if it was my size. Both Bridget and Macy are little women.”

  “Did you not see the way Jack looks at you? Honey, your size don’t have a damn thing to do with it. Lenny likes them small so he can feel big.”

  Carlene didn’t say anything for a while and then she said, “Thank you.”

  “Are you crying?”

  Carlene dropped her head into her hands. “Kitty hated me because I’m a big girl. Beulah isn’t going to like me because I’m divorced and run a panty shop.”

  “Who gives a shit?” Patrice asked.

  Carlene’s tears dried up, and she smiled.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “What Agnes said, but right now I’m changing the subject and we’re talking about the chili cook-off,” Carlene said.

  “Don’t you dare tell me you’re thinkin’ of pulling out of it.”

  “Hell, no! Aunt Sugar told me that letter Yancy handed her was from yet another woman who wants to have a team next year. We’ve really started something. I’m just hoping we can make the best chili in the whole state,” Carlene said.

  “Honey, it’s not all the chili. It’s the package it comes in. Our mamas have taken fried chicken to lots and lots of funerals but they took it out of the box from the KFC store and put it on a fancy platter. And folks thought it was the best damn chicken in the world. They’re all three professionals at what they do. Have some faith,” Patrice said.

  “Now you sound like Alma Grace,” Carlene told her.

  Patrice threw a pillow at her. “That little shit! Don’t bring up her name. She’s over at Rick’s getting laid and we’re talking about chili!”

  Chapter 18

  Two weeks later the mamas were still perfecting their chili recipe and sending it up to the soup kitchen in Sherman. They didn’t get many suggestion cards but Isaac assured them that the homeless folks loved every variation they came up with.

  Dakshani had a new tail feather and Tansy declared it a family holiday. The yellow cat with the rhinestone tooth jewelry was last seen sitting on Lenny’s front porch with a can of freshly opened food in front of him. Patrice swore with a grin on her face that she had no idea how he got there.

  Carlene could hardly believe that a month had passed since she signed the divorce papers. One more and it would be finalized. Thirty days after that, Lenny would be free to remarry.

  Alma Grace looked perfectly miserable when she sat down across the table from Carlene that morning. Josie was working on a white peignoir with fluffy white boa feathers around the edge of the dressing robe and her sewing machine didn’t even slow down. Carlene was busy drawing an intricate W initial on a black and hot-pink corset and didn’t look up until Alma Grace sighed the third time.

  “Okay.” Carlene laid the garment down.

  Josie took her foot off the pedal and the sewing machine stopped.

  “Mama wants me to move back in my little house on the estate. She misses our morning devotionals and having me around,” Alma Grace said.

  “It is your home and it’s only another week until the cook-off when Patrice is going to boot you out of her house anyway,” Josie said.

  “Did I hear my name?” Patrice asked from the foyer.

  Alma Grace motioned with a backward wave. “Come on in. It concerns you, too.”

  “What?” Patrice leaned on the doorjamb.

  “Aunt Sugar wants her to move home,” Carlene said.

  “And I don’t want to.”

  “Rick?” Josie asked. “They’ve met him, right?’

  “We’ve been busy with the church group on Sunday and I work days and he works different shifts so…” She shrugged.

  Josie mumbled something under her breath in Spanish and Alma Grace looked at Patrice for translation.

  “I couldn’t hear her,” Patrice said.

  “I said that you’re afraid she’ll know you are spending every free minute in bed with Rick. And that you’d rather be having sex with him than prayin’ with your mama,” Josie said.

  Alma Grace sighed again. “I know it’s not right but I’m bein’ truthful.”

  “You can buy a house in town or you could just move in with Rick. He’s got a house,” Patrice said.

  Two spots of crimson dotted Alma Grace’s face. “Mama would die if I moved in with him and it wouldn’t be a good example for the youth group and…can I please take one of the rooms upstairs? You’ll be moving back into one pretty soon, Carlene. Patrice really will want us to leave after the cook-off so she and Yancy…well, you know. She’s been patient but after all we are interfering with her life. Our mamas left furniture up there so it would be an easy move for both of us.”

  “No men in the house after closing hours. Gossip is one thing but knowing without a doubt is another.” Josie laid down the rules.

  Patrice nodded. “Amen. Your boyfriends can pick you up at the back door or at the front door. You can stay out as late as you want, come and go as you please. We’ve proven that gossip is good for business.”

  Alma Grace frowned. “Said from the woman who jumps in the bed with her boyfriend every chance she gets.”

  “In my house. In his house. In the barn. But not in my offic
e at Bless My Bloomers,” Patrice said.

  “I don’t have a problem with that rule. I’m not planning on taking anyone to bed until my divorce is final and I damn sure wouldn’t do it at the shop,” Carlene said.

  They all looked at Josie.

  She shrugged. “That’s all. I spent a week with my kids and I learned right quick that I do not want to lose my job because that would mean I’d have to move in with them. So I’m going to protect the business.”

  The sewing machine began to purr again.

  Carlene picked up her tailor’s chalk.

  Patrice went back to the office.

  Alma Grace pushed back her chair. “I’m moving in tonight and telling mama that I’m not coming back to the estate.”

  Carlene said, “But remember we’re meeting at my mama’s house every night this week to make batches of chili. Bring your secret ingredient. They’ve got the basic recipe down to a fine art now, they said. I just hope the hospitals haven’t had too many homeless in there with food poisoning.”

  “Rick is working the night shift until Saturday so we’ve only got tonight and then we’ll be apart for a week anyway,” Alma Grace said.

  ***

  Gigi left her car at home and drove Alex’s ten-year-old work truck out of town that Monday morning. She wore a scarf over her light-colored hair, jeans, boots, and a faded chambray shirt that she left hanging on the outside of her jeans. She left her Texas Longhorn jewelry at home and applied very little makeup. Hopefully anyone seeing her leave town would think she was the wife of one of the hired hands.

  She paid particular attention to any cemeteries she passed on the way. A flicker of red when the warm breezes blew but for the most part she couldn’t even see the Confederate flags that had been put on the graves the week before. It was a shame, as Tansy said, that they weren’t bigger so they’d catch everyone’s eye and the holiday would be remembered.

  The next generation couldn’t be expected to carry the banner of Confederate history and even Texas history with pride when all they had to work with was those little bitty faded things. Oh, yes, she was definitely crawling on the soapbox with her sister and things were going to change next year. She’d see to it if she had to donate the money for bigger flags from her own charity account.

  She could have gotten what she needed in Sherman but Gigi Carmichael wasn’t taking any chances, not when she needed so much. Not when her daughter’s reputation and happiness were on the line. Not when she could teach Lenny Lovelle not to mess with a Carmichael or a Fannin. She’d gladly drive the extra miles to McKinney in a truck with no heater or air conditioner. At least it wasn’t raining and there wasn’t even the faintest hint of a tornado boiling up to the southwest. It was actually a very pleasant day with the windows rolled down, and the radio worked just fine.

  She turned up the volume until the folks in Fort Worth could have heard the country music playing on her favorite radio station. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as Alan Jackson sang, “Livin’ on Love.” The lyrics said that it sounds simple but love could walk through fire without blinkin’. Well, her daughter had walked through fire tryin’ to live on love and it hadn’t worked. But there was always next time and Jack Landry would make a better father to her grandchildren than Lenny Lovelle. She could see Carlene and Jack in a porch swing when they were old just like Alan sang about and she would damn sure do her part to start the process right after the chili cook-off.

  “Shit, I’m seeing visions like Tansy.” She giggled.

  Speaking of Tansy, her sister had better be creating a big diversion that would have the whole town of Cadillac gossiping because if anyone found out where she got her chili recipe Lenny would do his damnedest to get them thrown out of the contest.

  ***

  Tansy had driven a Cadillac ever since Patrice was born. Jamie bought her a brand-new white one to bring the baby home from the hospital in and it was still in pristine condition parked in her garage. When Patrice had her first baby, hopefully with Yancy and in the near future, she would inherit the car to use to bring Tansy’s first grandbaby home.

  That day she drove a brand-new bright-red Caddy with a vanity plate that read TANSY-20. It had nothing to do with her age. That was simply how many brand-spanking-new vehicles she’d driven off the Cadillac car lot in Sherman. She never had done business with Lenny’s place and now she was damn glad she hadn’t.

  As she parked next to the curb in front of Lenny’s house, she got mad all over again. Kitty Lovelle was eating from that fancy set of china she’d bought her niece for her wedding gift and using the sterling cutlery that Sugar had bought. That put even more spring in her step as she stomped up to the door and rang the bell.

  Kitty took long enough to get from wherever the hell she was that the anger had time to simmer a little longer. When she opened the door, Tansy was taken aback for just a minute.

  The woman was green. Not with envy, but really green. Green fluffy terry flip-flops, green terry robe, green towel turban-style around her head, and green on her face.

  “What in the hell are you doing here?” Kitty hissed.

  “Why in the hell do you look like that?” Tansy asked.

  Kitty tilted her chin up slightly.

  Shit! She was green all the way to her boobs!

  “Well?” Tansy asked.

  “It’s not a bit of your business but I have a masseur who makes house calls and also does mani-pedis. I’ve just gotten my mask on so he can remove it during my face massage. I wouldn’t have even opened the door but I thought it was him. You’ve got to the count of five to state your reason for disturbing me. One.”

  Tansy stuck her foot in the door so that it couldn’t be shut.

  “Two.”

  “I’m here for the rest of my bird’s leash. I paid a fortune for it and I’m taking it back,” Tansy said.

  Sugar, darlin’, I will never doubt the power of your prayers again. You said that you would pray that I’d catch her at her worst and be damned if it hasn’t happened.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Kitty said.

  A big yellow cat sashayed across the floor and rubbed around her ankles.

  Kitty pushed at it with her toe. “Go back to your room, OJ.”

  “As in Simpson.”

  Kitty reached down and picked the cat up. “As in Orange Juice.”

  Tansy could see the rhinestones dangling out the side of his mouth. “That’s the sorry bastard who tried to eat my bird and that’s the rest of my leash. You take it out or I will.” She removed a set of needle-nose pliers from her purse and took a step forward.

  “Don’t you touch my cat with those things,” Kitty screamed. “Get off my property or I’ll call the police right now.”

  Yes, ma’am, Sugar, you do have a direct line to heaven. This is working great!

  “Give me that miserable cat. I’m getting my leash back,” Tansy yelled as she grabbed for the cat.

  OJ let out a high-pitched meow that rivaled both the women’s shrill screaming. He clawed Kitty on the back of the hand and darted out the door where he dived under a rosebush and growled like a mountain lion.

  “Come here.” Tansy took off after him. “You are as stupid as Lenny. I’m not afraid of you. I’ll yank every one of your teeth out.”

  That brought Kitty outside like a shot, chasing after Tansy. “Don’t you talk about my son like that. The only stupid thing he did was marry your fat niece.”

  Tansy stopped chasing the cat and turned around so quick that Kitty ran into her, bounced backward a step, and fell flat on her ass on the green lawn.

  “What did you say?” Tansy asked.

  “I said he married your fat niece,” Kitty yelled.

  Tansy put a foot on Kitty’s thigh and clicked the pliers toward her face. “You will regret saying that. Since I can’t catch that sumbitch cat, I’ll just take a couple of your miserable teeth.”

  “Help! Help! Call the police,” Kitty screamed. �
�This woman is trying to kill me.”

  Keep prayin’, Sugar. God is listenin’.

  The masseur’s van drove up and the hunky man behind the wheel pulled out his cell phone on his way to break up the fight. Tansy waited until he was on the way and grabbed Kitty by the shoulders and rolled with her.

  “Help! Get off me, you bitch. I just wanted my leash back. God Almighty, why are you trying to kill me?” Tansy yelled.

  Kitty pushed away from her and stood up. She started for the house but had only gone two steps when Tansy reached out, grabbed her by the ankles, and brought her down again. Sirens brought every neighbor on the block out of their houses. Jack bailed out of the police car. And that’s when the sprinkling system came on, soaking Kitty’s terry robe and shoes. She stopped dead, stomped her foot, and screamed.

  “I am going to kill you, Tansy!”

  “What is going on here?” Jack asked. “I got a call there was a fight and I was only a block away.”

  Tansy tossed the pliers under the rosebush, hitting the cat on the tail, and it ran back in the house. She jogged away from the sprinklers. Getting wet was a small price to pay and besides she looked a helluva lot better in her wet jeans and shirt than Kitty did with green beauty mask goop running down her face.

  “She’s crazy, Jack. She said she was going to kill me. You heard her. I just came over here to get my bird’s leash out of her cat’s mouth and she chased me outside and threatened me.”

  “She threatened to pull my teeth out with those damned pliers,” Kitty wailed.

  Tansy held up both hands. “What pliers? Take her to jail. She’s ruined my clothes and she attacked me.”

  “She said she was going to pull Lenny’s cat’s teeth out to get that stupid leash. He loves that cat and he never could have one when his fat wife lived here,” Kitty yelled. “And then she attacked me. All I did was call Carlene fat. That’s my opinion. It’s not against the law to state my opinion and I’m not going to jail.”

  “You’re both coming to jail with me right now. We can straighten this out without an audience,” Jack said.