Page 79

It’s too late. He turns and runs, disappearing into the night, leaving me naked, alone, and completely in the dark.

The Ms. Silver Peach pageant kicks off at one, and I’m exhausted and anxious as I help the contestants prepare for the show. In the early morning dusk, I gathered the remnants of Sawyer’s formalwear and drove his truck to my house in my green chiffon dress.

My intention was to change clothes and search for him. Instead, I fell asleep on my bed until noon, which I can only assume was the result of the tequila and the wrestling match-nightmare.

I wrapped my wrist in an ACE bandage, and I’ve been texting and calling him since I woke up. My texts go unanswered and my calls go to voicemail. I’ve got to get out of here and find him, find out what happened, make sure he’s okay.

“Light of Freedom!” Maddie hisses as the chords for “My Country Tis of Thee” ring out over the speakers.

Ms. Turner walks up in her red sequined gown holding a glowing white torch. Across the stage in the wings I see Ms. Wilson in a dark blue sequined gown holding an American flag. The remaining eight ladies are in alternating red, white, and blue gowns, and they hold sparklers as they march out onto the stage beneath the “Grady’s Used Cars” banner. I kind of wish it was a banner for new cars, but that might make it even worse.

Chewing my lip, I peer out at the record-setting pageant crowd of more than one hundred guests, but I don’t see Noel or Taron or Sawyer anywhere. I’m so worried, I can barely breathe.

“How’s it looking?” Mrs. Irene is beside me in a blush pink beaded gown, holding my arm.

“Maddie is a miracle worker. They’re hitting their marks, and Ms. Olivia and Ms. Debbie are standing next to each other on the stage.”

Mrs. Irene shakes her head, but she rubs my back. “Your voice sounds strange. Are you okay?”

“I think I was talking too much last night at the dance.” The truth is my throat hurts from screaming, and I’m completely thrown off from Sawyer’s manhandling me.

“And now for the five finalists. Can I get the card, please?” Mr. Newman is the go-to pageant MC for this area.

“You ready?” I whisper, and Mrs. Irene nods.

She’s on my arm, and I lead her across the stage to hand the card to him. I’m wearing black slacks and a black sweater so the focus is all on her.

“Lovely, just lovely.” Newman says. “You’re not competing this year, Mrs. Irene?”

“Benny Newman, you were always a flirt.” She titters, and the crowd laughs in unison.

He takes the card and opens it slowly, reading the names as I lead Mrs. Irene to the opposite wing. As we expected both of Jimmy Hebert’s conquests made it to the final round. Up next is the swimsuit competition, and I have no idea what to expect. Nobody does. Maddie has kept it all under wraps.

The music swells, and last year’s Princess Peach takes the stage to sing “You Are My Sunshine” while the contestants change into their swimsuits. I’m completely on edge, not wanting to be here. Every number, every break seems to last an eternity.

The little girl finishes her song, and the band changes their tune to the Beach Boys’ song, “The Little Old Lady from Pasadena.”

“I guess that’s okay?” I mutter, but Mrs. Irene’s grip tightens on my arm.

The curtains swish around us, and Ms. Debbie joins us in a navy sequined bikini that’s actually very modest. The bottoms are high-waisted, and the top covers more than most bras you’d see at the department store.

Still, it’s more crinkly old-lady skin than I’ve ever seen in my life.

“I wish I could see this.” Mrs. Irene whispers, and I’m about to tell her I wish I couldn’t when loud voices from deeper in the backstage area attract my attention.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” I put Mrs. Irene’s hand on Ramona’s arm and hurry to where Beth Hebert is pacing in a circle.

“It’s not your concern, Bethany.” Mr. Hebert is holding up his hands. “You’re making me miss my ladies in swimsuits!”

“Your neck is black and blue!” Beth waves her arms, and when her eyes land on me she strides forward. “Melinda Ray, what happened to my grandad?”

My eyes widen, and I see the fading bruise on his neck. Clenching my teeth, I’m pretty sure I know now what happened, but at the time… “It wasn’t exactly clear—”

“I told her,” Mr. Hebert jumps in, “I was helping Sawyer carry boxes from the storage closet for the pageant, and—”

“Mindy Ray! This obscene display has got to stop!” Heels click sharply on the linoleum tiles, and Liz McMillan storms up to join us. “You’ve turned my great-aunt into a circus freak, and I want it to stop, I want an apology—”

“Just because we’re old doesn’t mean we’re freaks!” The wrinkles in Mr. Hebert’s face multiply as he glares at her.