“I’m so sorry, Mom. My arm’s broken. I can’t compete anymore.” Katie cradled her injured arm and fought back tears. “I hope you’re not disappointed.”
“Disappointed? Of course not! And who said you can’t compete? Just because you have a broken arm? Where does it say that in the rules?” Winnie turned to Valerie, directing that last question at her.
Valerie held up her hands. “We never said she couldn’t! If she feels up to it, we wouldn’t keep her out. But it’s her choice.”
“Of course she wants to compete! Isn’t that right, Katie?” Winnie reached out to smooth back Katie’s hair.
“I—oh good, the ambulance is here,” Katie said, the whine of the siren cutting into their conversation.
Winnie blanched. “We’re not paying for an ambulance! Can you walk? I’ll take you now. You must be in so much pain. I’m so sorry, baby,” she said, gesturing at Mr. Acevedo to help her with Katie. Joy went with them, carrying hers and Katie’s bags.
Mayor Gunderson watched the four of them hobble off. “I guess there’s no point in continuing. At least we worked out all the audio problems.” He paused, his eyes landing on Mrs. Philipps, who was writing furiously in her notebook, and Dave, who’d been snapping photos the whole time. “Great, just what we needed. Beth, Valerie, come with me so we can handle this.”
Beth hesitated, looking at me with Jae. “You’ve got Valerie. Surely you don’t need me there, too.”
“You’re the head of the Thompson Family Company, so your voice carries weight. Now come on!”
She glared at him, but obeyed. “Jae, this will only take a minute.”
Jae spared her a glance as he helped me to my feet. “Sorry, Beth, I’ll have to take a rain check. I need to get Lila home. There’s no way she can drive in her condition.”
“But—”
“Thanks for taking such good care of my cuz, Jae! Don’t worry about your car, Lila. I’ll drop it at your place and Sana can give me a ride back here,” Bernadette said, hands out for my keys.
“That’s right! We need to talk about the advanced Zumba class she’ll be teaching on the weekends anyway,” Sana added.
Beth turned away without another word and went to deal with the Shady Palms News team.
Well, look at Bernadette conspiring to get me alone with Jae. Didn’t think she had it in her. Maybe we really had turned a corner in our relationship. “Thanks, Ate,” I said, handing over my keys. “Any medical advice you can give me for a quick recovery?”
“Keep that ankle iced and elevated and stay off it as long as possible. I think we still have Daddy’s cane at the house, so I can drop it off later.”
It had been years since her dad passed from MS, but I still couldn’t believe she was willing to part with something that belonged to him. That simple gesture was enough to bring tears to my eyes, which I pretended was due to the pain in my leg. “Don’t worry about it. Pretty sure we still have Lolo’s lying around somewhere. But thanks. I appreciate it.”
And because she couldn’t leave well enough alone, Bernadette said, “Hey, just two more days and this will all be over. Try not to die before the Founder’s Day Festival, OK?”
She walked away cackling, but I couldn’t laugh at her weak joke. As Jae led me away, I glanced back at the fallen railing one last time. Was it just shoddy workmanship? Or had someone purposely tampered with it to hurt one of our girls?
Chapter Twenty-four
Are you ready, Joy?”
We were behind the Main Stage, waiting for the final event of the pageant to start. All the other contestants were busy practicing their talent with their mom, or having their makeup adjusted by their mom, or receiving a pep talk from their mom.
Except for Joy. The teen was pacing back and forth by herself, muttering what sounded like algebra equations to me. Or maybe geometry? Math wasn’t really my strong point, but she was definitely reciting something math-related.
“Huh? Oh, hi, Ate Lila. I’m fine. I just like reciting formulas when I’m nervous. Focusing on it helps take my mind off things.” She smiled shyly. “I know it’s weird.”
I shifted my weight to my uninjured ankle and reached out with the hand that wasn’t gripping my grandfather’s old cane. “Hey, whatever works, right? I should probably find my own version. It’s like a magic spell—say these words and they’ll help you focus or not stress out or whatever.”
“That’s exactly what it’s like! I like using calculus because it’s a prereq for my major. It’s like I’m studying and stress relieving at the same time.”
That was so her. To distract myself from the pain of watching her do this alone while everyone else had a parent with them, I thought about what “magic spell” would work for me and came up blank. Adeena would probably recite coffee varieties and Elena different plants and their properties. Lola Flor would recount all the varieties of kakanin and Tita Rosie would probably just recite the rosary. But what about me?
“Anyway, you know I have to be completely objective in my scoring. But good luck. Give it your all, OK?”
She flashed me a smile and thumbs-up. “I hope it’s me or Katie! Have you seen her around?”
I shook my head. “She’s probably still getting ready. Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it. I should say hi to the other girls, too. Don’t want anyone accusing me of favoritism.”
“That’s OK. Ate Bernie and Ate Pinky will be here soon and they’ll keep me company. And Katie, too.”
She went off to find her best friend and I made my way over to Naoko and Yuki. “How’re you two doing?”
The duo were fussing over a table with various flowers, greenery, and vases laid out over it. Naoko hadn’t participated in the talent rehearsal, saying that her talent didn’t require any technology checks, and that for her to do her best, her supplies had to be fresh anyway. She planned on doing a modern ikebana demonstration, which I found fascinating.
“What made you choose flower arranging as your talent?” I asked.
“It’s the only thing I like doing that would be interesting to watch live. Like, I love making jewelry and sketching outfits, but that’s not something I can do onstage in front of people. I wish you’d change those rules. Not everyone’s talent can be performed in front of an audience, but it still counts.” The girl fiddled with her bracelets as her mom also laid sheets of origami paper and slim twigs next to the greenery. “I’m not going to win, so can you tell that to Ms. Thompson? Maybe then I’ll have a chance for next year.”
I promised to pass along her feedback. “You never know, though. You racked up quite a few points with your winning design last week. It’s still anybody’s game.”