Sweet Georgia Peach

by Amelia C. Adams

  “Tonight is a rather big deal for all of you, and it’s certainly exciting for me,” Mrs. Fitzpatrick continued. “I’ll turn the time over to our three judges so they can announce their selections.”

  “Those three judges?”

  London looked to see Taffy Johnson standing up at the back of the room, indignation written all over her face.

  “Yes, these are the three judges who chose tonight’s finalists. I looked over their choices and found them to be quite satisfactory.”

  “But I thought something was being done about this,” Mrs. Johnson continued. “You promised—”

  “Mrs. Johnson, I’m waiting for a return call at this very moment, and then I’ll be able to tell you all about a slight change to our program tomorrow night. For just now, you’ll need to trust me.”

  Mrs. Johnson didn’t look very trusting, but she sat down, and London turned her attention back to Mrs. Fitzpatrick. She had no idea what was going on, but if it involved the Johnsons, it was sure to be a doozy.

  “Now then, I’ll turn the time over to our panel of judges for the announcement.” Mrs. Fitzpatrick stepped off to the side, and Mayor Morgan came to his feet.

  “Well, it was a hard decision, boiling you all down to just twelve,” he began. “But the three of us talked, and we came to a unanimous decision. Our first finalist is Chelsea Baker.”

  London clapped hard as Chelsea stood up and waved.

  “Then we have Lacey Johnson.”

  London only pretended to clap to be polite.

  The mayor read off several more names, and London grew anxious. It wasn’t hard to guess that Mrs. Johnson had stirred up some trouble where the judging was concerned—how was this going to affect London’s standing? She had been a finalist in every pageant she’d ever entered. Maybe it was time for that streak to come to an end. Not everyone could be that lucky, could they?

  “Next is London Russell.”

  Oh, thank goodness. She stood and waved, noticing that her mother and Chelsea were the only ones clapping. Lovely. Darling little Lacey had spread her poison generously, it would appear.

  “And last is Sydney Newton.”

  London sat down and let Sydney have her moment. Mrs. Fitzpatrick stood and invited everyone to have the refreshments that were set up at the back of the room, but first, she had an announcement to make.

  “We’ve had a slight change to our judging lineup,” she said. “Kade Smith will still be joining us as a consultant, but he will not be scoring the competition.”

  London almost gasped out loud. What was going on?

  “Instead, we’ve brought in a very special judge. We know her now as the wife of our governor, but we met her first as Miss Georgia a few years back—Allison Black Wrigley. She’ll be here first thing tomorrow morning to meet everyone. We’re honored to have her join us. Now please, do help yourself to the buffet, and we’ll see you all tomorrow.”

  As soon as the crowd disbursed, London made a beeline for her mother.

  “They didn’t call your name forever. I was getting a little nervous there,” Evelyn said, gathering London up into a hug.

  “Me too, Mom.”

  Evelyn patted her back, then stepped away and looked into her eyes. “Now, what’s going on? People have been smirking at me ever since I walked in here, and one of them asked me if I was addicted to scandals.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean for you to get dragged into this. Let’s go upstairs and talk, okay?” London took a step toward the door, but she was stopped by a photographer.

  “Excuse me, but all the finalists are supposed to gather for a group photo.”

  London gave her mother a grimace. “I’ll see you up there in a little bit, okay?”

  “Okay.” Evelyn patted her daughter’s arm and disappeared into the crowd.

  London took her place with all the other girls, pretended to smile, ignored their sharp comments, and headed for the elevator as fast as she could. If she stuck around, it would just be more of the same, and she was done with all that.

  As soon as she stepped off the elevator, her phone vibrated with another text. She’d gotten so many, it was like having her own personal earthquake in her pocket. She’d have to go through and clean them all out, but she could do that later. This one was from Kade, though, so she read it.

  Can I call you? Need to talk.

  There was a small sitting area off to the side of the elevators on London’s floor, and she headed there before replying, Yes. It was somewhat private, and she didn’t want her mother overhearing snippets of their conversation before she knew the whole story of what was going on.

  London’s phone vibrated with a call almost instantly, and she answered.

  “I have two problems,” Kade said without waiting for her to speak. “First is that I’m no longer a real judge, but you knew that. I’ve made a huge mess of things by embarrassing the pageant, and I’m probably going to be making up for it for years to come. I’ve already ordered tulips for Mrs. Fitzpatrick—I hear she likes them.”

  “And what’s the other problem?” London asked, as if that wasn’t enough.

  “The other problem is that I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  London grinned. She couldn’t help how that made her feel. She was still a little bit mad, but that was fading fast. He’d said he was sorry and that he wanted a fresh start—that was something she was pretty sure she could give him. “You can’t?”

  “Nope. You looked great tonight, by the way.”

  “I did, huh?”

  “Yeah. But you always look great.”

  “I don’t know about that. You haven’t seen my gray sweats.”

  “I have a feeling you look great even in your gray sweats.”

  “Why, thank you. You’re too kind.” She paused and went back to the first thing he’d said. “So, you’ve embarrassed the pageant, huh?”

  “Well, that’s not what Mrs. Fitzpatrick said exactly, but it was strongly implied.”

  “And let me guess. Mrs. Johnson had something to do with it.”

  “Yeah, she did. But I can’t blame her for everything. I did kiss you, after all.”

  London played with the corner of the throw pillow on the couch. “So, are you having regrets?”

  “Not at all,” he said. “Want to take a cab back to that spot on the sidewalk and do it again?”

  “I’d love to, but I thought you weren’t supposed to talk to me until after the pageant.”

  “Who said anything about talking? I thought we’d be kissing.”

  She laughed. “So, what do we do now? I mean, that kiss was amazing, but what does it mean?”

  He didn’t answer for a minute, and she wanted to kick herself. Why was she forcing a define-the-relationship talk? It wasn’t anywhere near time for that yet, even if she did want it defined.

  “I think it means that we get to know each other for the people we are now,” he said slowly. “We put aside all our preconceived ideas and approach this like we’re total strangers meeting for the first time.”

  “Except that total strangers generally haven’t kissed each other,” she pointed out.

  “This is true. So we’re total strangers with a little advantage over all the others.” He paused. “Hey, listen, London. I’m going out to dinner with the other two judges, and they just knocked. Can I call you again later? Like, right before bed?”

  “Yeah. I’d like that.”

  “Okay. See you—er, talk to you then.”

  She hung up the phone with a smile on her face. She felt terrible that he’d gotten in trouble, but that kiss . . . that kiss was kind of worth it.

  ***

  When London walked into her hotel room, she saw that her mother had changed out of her dress and was now wearing a peachskin pantsuit. “We’re going out to dinner to celebrate,” she said. “I’m so proud of you, London.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” London grabbed a pair of slacks from the closet and started to change as well.


  “Now, you were going to tell me what’s going on around here.”

  London finished putting on her shirt, brought up the internet, and handed her mother the phone, the infamous picture on display on the first page of one of the local online newspapers.

  “You kissed Kade Smith?” Evelyn sat down on the edge of the bed like all the wind had gotten knocked out of her. “I thought you didn’t like him.”

  “I don’t. I mean, actually, I think I do. A lot.”

  Evelyn shook her head. “You aren’t doing one of those Jane Austen things where you hate each other and then suddenly fall in love, are you? Because you can’t live your life like it’s a book.”

  “No, Mom. That’s not what this is.”

  “And you’re not doing a Beauty and the Beast thing, because this isn’t a movie either.”

  London laughed. “No, I’m not. I’m not actually sure what this is. He and I . . . well, we’ve agreed to start from scratch and get to know each other as we are now.”

  “And you sealed that bargain with this very . . . um . . . public and kissy kiss?”

  “Yes. It was a very kissy kiss.” London sat down to put on her shoes, then looked up at her mother. “When I look beyond everything that happened in the past and just concentrate on the present, he’s an amazing guy, Mom. We went to the Wren’s Nest this morning, and he told me how much he loves that place. He’s into history and culture and family—he kept cracking me up with stories about his dad. And everywhere we went, he treated the employees so well—not like that jerk Brad I used to date.”

  “Hmm. You sound just a little bit smitten.”

  London blushed. “Well, I don’t know about smitten, but I’m definitely interested. And the fact that he fell in love with me in high school even when I was being prickly—I think that says a lot.”

  “I beg your pardon? In love with you? Did I miss something?”

  “Oops. Um, yeah, you’ve missed a lot.” London shook her head. She had lost track of who she’d told what. “I’ll tell you about it while we head down to dinner, all right?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Welcome to the thirty-first annual Miss Sweet Georgia Peach pageant. My name is Larry Schoonover, and I’ll be your host for this evening. Our panel of distinguished judges has chosen twelve of the most talented, beautiful, intelligent girls in our area to compete, and tonight, you’ll see the final stages of that competition as they choose our next Miss Sweet Georgia Peach!”

  The audience in the largest ballroom in the hotel clapped, and London rubbed her hands together where she stood backstage. A monitor set up nearby showed Larry’s shiny white teeth as he introduced the judges.

  “And here as our special consultant for the evening is NFL quarterback Kade Smith, who will be offering his thoughts as the competition progresses,” Larry said smoothly. “We’re glad you could join us, Kade.”

  London watched as the screen flipped to Kade, who now wore a different jacket and a tie. She wondered if he’d been able to go home or if he’d had to run out to shop again. He had only spoken to her for a few minutes after dinner the night before, just long enough to say goodnight, but even that memory brought a smile to her lips.

  “I’m glad to be here,” Kade replied. “Everyone watching is in for a treat.”

  “Indeed they are, Kade. Indeed they are. Now, let’s get things started, shall we, and meet these young ladies.”

  The music started up, and one at a time, each girl walked out on stage and spoke into the microphone. London smoothed down the front of her green cocktail dress and tried not to be nervous. This pageant meant more to her than any other she’d done—that must be why her hands were shaking a little bit. The fact that it was being televised probably didn’t help either.

  Okay, it was her turn. She stepped out confidently, walked up to the microphone, and said, “I’m London Russell, age twenty-two. I’m currently the reigning Miss Mint Julep, and I’m from Atlanta.”

  As she stepped away from the mike and walked off the stage in the other direction, she noticed that the response from the audience was lukewarm at best. That wasn’t a good sign.

  Her mother met her in the dressing room, holding her swimsuit. “Hurry,” she said.

  “I know, Mom.” London was already unfastening her emerald necklace, and now she shimmied out of her dress and into her swimsuit. It was the only thing she was wearing this weekend that she hadn’t made—she hadn’t figured out how to make a decent swimsuit yet.

  Once she was ready, she stood in the wings again and watched the monitor.

  “Now, let’s see what our viewers have tweeted in to the show so far this evening,” Larry was saying. He consulted a piece of paper in his hand. “Well, by quite a large margin, our number-one question has to do with Kade Smith and the picture that’s being circulated all over the internet. Tell us, Kade, about that moment.”

  “It was a pretty great moment,” Kade replied, and the audience laughed.

  Oh, so they were eating out of his hand, but they wouldn’t clap for her? That was just wrong.

  “Is there any truth to the rumors that your relationship with London Russell could impact the results of this pageant?”

  “I’m not judging this competition, Larry. I’m just here to offer my thoughts. All the decisions will be made by these good people.” Kade indicated the three other judges at the table.

  “Well, I certainly don’t envy them their jobs, especially as we head into the swimsuit competition,” Larry said in one of the smoothest segues London had ever seen.

  The next hour seemed like a whirlwind. After swimsuit was the talent competition, and London felt she did rather well with her rendition of “Song to the Moon” from Rusalka by Dvořák. She’d worn a silvery-blue dress, trying to look a little moonlike, and when she came off stage, her mother gave her a big hug.

  Now it was time for her interview with the host. She’d never cared much for Larry. He was the anchor of a local news station, and he seemed to have a lot of teeth. Like, even more than people were supposed to have. But she could pretend to like him for just a few short minutes.

  Evelyn zipped up her black evening gown, and she made her way back to the wings to watch.

  Chelsea did a great job with her interview, and a few of the other girls did as well. London tried not to smirk when Lacey flubbed up her answer, saying that she’d enjoy going to work among the leopards like Mother Theresa.

  With a deep breath and a quick prayer, London took her place on the little white X on the floor next to Larry.

  “Next is London Russell,” Larry said to the camera. “How are you doing tonight, London?”

  “I’m great, Larry. How are you?”

  “I’m doing well. Thank you for asking.” He flashed a smile at the camera again. “You’ve had quite a week here at the Miss Sweet Georgia Peach pageant, competing against all these other beautiful girls. How do you keep going under that kind of pressure?”

  “It’s not easy because each of these girls deserves to win, but I try to stay focused on what I need to do, and to do my best.” She didn’t really believe they all deserved to win, but hey, that’s what the audience wanted to hear.

  “Excellent, London. Really excellent. And what can you tell us about your platform?”

  London glanced down at the judges, at Kade, who was sitting off to the side, and then back up at Larry. “I’ve chosen forgiveness as my platform, should I be crowned the next Miss Sweet Georgia Peach.”

  Another glance showed the judges flipping through their papers, obviously trying to find where that was written down. They wouldn’t be able to find it—she’d only just now changed her mind.

  “Forgiveness? That’s a unique topic. What can you tell us about that?” Larry asked, just as flustered as the judges. His cue cards were written up for him in advance, and he apparently wasn’t so great at adlibbing.

  “We have a tendency to judge people harshly when they do something that offends us,
and we might harbor those hurt feelings for years. What I’ve learned just recently is that there’s power in being able to say, the past is the past. Forgiveness doesn’t mean that I’m okay with what happened, but it means that I’m willing to stop dredging it up and letting it hurt me. And the most wonderful part is being able to look at someone with new eyes because of the fresh start forgiveness brings us.” London smiled for the camera, hoping Kade understood what she was trying to tell him.

  “Well now, I think that gives us all something to think about. Thank you, London.” Larry motioned for her to step off the stage, and this time, the audience clapped a little louder.

  “One more change to go,” Evelyn said, London’s Scarlett O’Hara dress draped over her arm. This wasn’t one of her full-skirted plantation dresses—oh, no. This was a rendition of the red dress Scarlett wore when she walked in to the party and stared everyone down like the diva she was.

  “I was planning to wear the plum dress,” London said, but Evelyn shook her head.

  “You just threw down the gauntlet out there, my dear, and you need to go out there and own it.”

  London nodded, loving her mother fiercely in that moment. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  “My goodness, don’t you look wonderful,” Taffy Johnson said a moment later as Evelyn was tucking London’s hair up into a bun in the back. “Just the spitting image of Vivien Leigh. I always thought she was one of Hollywood’s most beautiful actresses.”

  “Thank you,” Evelyn replied. “Lacey’s doing very well tonight.”

  “She is, isn’t she? And now that the judging has been straightened out, I’m sure that she’ll continue to do well. Oops, I must run. She needs help with a zipper.” Taffy bustled off, and Evelyn put her hands on London’s shoulders.

  “Don’t let her get to you,” she said in a low voice.

  “I’m okay, Mom. I’m brushing off everything she says.”

  Evelyn laughed. “I was talking to myself, but all right.”

  London turned around and gave her a hug. “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you too. Now get out there and win this thing.”