A Taste of Fame (2 page)
“Well, you and Fred just got one of those new flat screen TVs, right?”
“Yes, but …”
“And you’re on satellite?”
“Yes …”
“Do you think Fred will mind if we girls watch a show together at seven?”
“Luckily, it’s Fred’s bowling night, but why can’t we watch the show at your place?”
Lisa Leann sighed loudly. “That would never do. Henry. You know?”
I didn’t know, but I pretended I did. “Oh, right. Okay.”
“And, ah, one more thing. How about if you were to make your famous Mississippi mud cake?”
“All right.”
Before the kettle could whistle, Lisa Leann said, “See you tomorrow,” and with that she was gone.
Later that evening, my balding Fred and I were sitting in our matching blue recliners, watching Fred’s favorite monster truck show. When I stood to take our dinner plates back to the kitchen, a commercial came on about a new reality show called
Great Party Showdown
something or other. A sexy female voice said, “Ten catering teams from around the country compete to take home our extreme award, a million dollars and a catering kitchen makeover.”
Fred’s voice rose an octave. “Isn’t that you and the girls?”
I turned just in time to see a clip of what looked like Donna Vesey and me giggling as we iced a giant cake. I blinked, but the TV image changed to a group of men dressed in baseball uniforms, singing as they stirred a huge pot of chili.
My heart pounded, but I shook my head. “How could that be?”
Fred laughed. “I think you’d know if you were going to be on a reality TV show. Right?”
I nodded, feeling too nervous to mention that the woman who looked like me had been wearing my favorite butterfly monogrammed sweatshirt.
I’d fretted about it for an hour and probably should have called Lisa Leann, but the idea seemed so far-fetched I made myself believe it was all a coincidence. Just because those gals looked and dressed like us did not mean they were us.
I chuckled to myself the next morning as I attacked the dust bunnies that sometimes hide in the corners of my hearth behind my vintage Raggedy Ann and her china doll friends. I couldn’t help but imagine the girls and me on a TV reality program. The idea was simply outrageous.
But as I thought about the clip of the two women icing that cake, I suddenly remembered Lisa Leann’s son Nelson taping us girls catering Becky and Allen’s wedding last March. Oh, dear. I switched on the television, hoping to catch the commercial again. But every time I heard it start to play, I was either out of the room or saw a clip different from the one that aired the night before.
I would have called Evie to tell her of my concerns, but I remembered this was Vernon’s day off. I hated to disturb the newlyweds with my silly fears.
Just before six, David, my handsome biological son, dropped by to take Fred to the bowling alley. It was so good to see the two of them together—a young man who’d never had a dad, and Fred, who’d never had a son. But now they both had me in common, and that seemed to make us family. It had been rocky when my husband first discovered that I, his wife of over three decades, had been a widow before I’d married him, much less had a son who’d been given up for adoption. But my reunion with my son had been a happy one, and now God was answering my prayers as I watched the growing friendship between the two men in my life.
As Chucky danced around us, I once again noticed how much David looked like his father, Private Joseph Jewell, who was killed in Vietnam. David gave me a squeeze. “Donna told me the girls are heading your way tonight.”
I smiled at the thought that our club’s youngest member, Donna Vesey, was getting closer to David. I wasn’t sure if they were going out, but I hoped so. Donna was like a daughter to me, and to think of her and David making a match? Well, the idea warmed my heart.
“What did Donna say?” I asked.
“Only that Lisa Leann was absolutely frantic. What’s up?”
“I wish I knew.”
As soon as the boys drove out of sight, Lisa Leann’s Lincoln Continental pulled up in front of the house. I’d just had time to put Chucky on the back porch before running to hold the door for her, allowing the cool of the summer evening to freshen my home. I glanced at the sky, which was just beginning to turn a golden teal as the setting sun started its descent.
Lisa Leann, a petite redhead in her late forties, was dressed in a gorgeous button-down teal sweater over a lacy T-shirt and designer jeans. She rushed through the expanding shadows, up my front steps, and into my living room. I took her warm quiche, buffered between pink pot-holders, to my kitchen table before returning to see her tug off her sweater.
She opened the front closet door and reached for a coat hanger. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Why don’t you pour the tea in the glasses?”
She disappeared as the front door swung open again. “Lizzie!” I said.
My librarian friend bent down to give me a hug, then pulled off her black windbreaker, revealing a crisp red shirt that brightened her usual pale complexion. Her blue eyes sparked beneath a splash of salt and pepper bangs. “How are Michelle and Adam?” I asked.
“Still on their honeymoon. Do you know what this crisis is all about?” she asked.
“I’d hate to speculate,” I said as she handed me her salad.
Lisa Leann called from the kitchen, “Lizzie, how’s that little bride?”
“Michelle? I got a text message this morning that said, and I quote, ‘Love Adam and Niagara Falls.’ ”
“Young love.” I sighed, thinking how beautiful Lizzie’s daughter had been on her wedding day last week.
I put Lizzie’s salad on the table, then ducked back to the front door just in time to greet Goldie, a good-looking strawberry blonde in her late forties. She looked so polished in her matching camelcolored top and business jacket. “You look like you came straight from work,” I said.
“I did.” She walked toward the kitchen with a package of rolls. “Is the oven warm? It’ll just take a second to heat these.”
“Sure, let me.”
After slipping the rolls into my oven, I looked out the kitchen window to see a red pickup pull up in the driveway. Wasn’t that Donna with Wade and little Pete? I walked to the front door and watched Donna scamper up the front steps. She was looking good these days, since her dreadful, cropped hairdo had finally grown into flattering blonde curls.
Donna was a tiny, feisty thing, and her too-short hair had been her way of looking tough in her role as a sheriff’s deputy. But even that bad haircut hadn’t been able to hide her natural beauty. In fact, Donna, much to her chagrin, was the dream girl of most of the single men in these parts. Now that she was finally starting to recover from some difficult losses, she’d even ventured into the dating game.
I gave Donna a hug and watched Wade’s truck disappear down the street. “Wade dropped you off?” I asked nonchalantly.
“Yeah, he’s been over at my house with his cousin Pete. Pete had to interview someone in law enforcement for a class project. He’s in summer school, you know.”
“It wasn’t a date?” I asked.
“I don’t date twelve-year-olds,” she said with a laugh.
“But Wade’s not twelve,” I teased.
“No, he’s not. We go out sometimes, though I do have a date with David this Friday.”
“Really?” I winced as I realized my enthusiasm showed. I had to be careful. Though Donna was like my own daughter, I couldn’t interfere. She had to make up her own mind when it came to matters of her heart.
Donna smiled and handed me a jar of cinnamon-flavored applesauce as she pulled off her leather jacket to reveal that she was wearing her standard black jeans with matching tee. She was looking … what did the young people say? Hot.
“How are you going to get home?”
“I’ll catch a ride with Lizzie,” she said.
Lisa Leann swooped up the jar of applesauce and was busying herself in the kitchen, putting the contents into a bowl, when the door blew open once again. I ran back to see Mrs. Evangeline Vesey holding her “in a pinch” rice dish. “Sorry I’m late,” she huffed. “Had to make Vernon’s dinner.”
Donna looked surprised. “My dad can cook.”
“If you like grilled cheese every night,” Evie said with a hint of a smile. “Good thing I’m finally there to change all that.”
Donna pasted on a hard smile. These two had their troubles, but Donna had the good sense to play nice with her new stepmom.
Evie followed me to the girls, who were already gathering around the table. Goldie was just pulling her rolls out from the oven and placing them into my linen-covered basket.
“Lisa Leann, what’s the big emergency?” Evie said as she sat at the table.
“Let’s pray first,” Lisa Leann said. We all settled down, and Lisa Leann bowed her head. “Lord, have mercy on us,” she said.
So help me, I peeked and caught Evie’s startled expression. She raised her eyebrows at me as if to ask,
Do you know what this is about
? I shook my head and closed my eyes again.
Lisa Leann continued. “Please, Lord, please!”
After the “Amen,” there was a long silence as the girls stared at Lisa Leann, one of the strongest women we’d ever known. But there she sat, pale and shaken. “What is it?” Lizzie cried. “Is Henry leaving you?”
Lisa Leann shook her head. “No, no. Let’s eat and then I’ll explain in a moment.”
Since I was sitting next to Lisa Leann, I leaned in and whispered, “This doesn’t have anything to do with a TV reality show, does it?”
Lisa Leann sputtered a cough and grabbed her napkin to cover her face. “You’ll know soon enough,” she said.
Donna, who was sitting to my left, asked me in a low voice, “What did you say to her?”
I hesitated. “I think I’d better let her explain.”
Forty minutes later, I’d poured the flavored coffee while Evie and Lisa Leann moved my oak kitchen chairs to the living room for our business meeting. Once we’d settled in, Lizzie and Goldie served everyone a plate with a generous slice of Mississippi mud cake, while Donna and I followed with steaming mugs of coffee.
Lisa Leann stood unsteadily before us, looking like someone had wiped all the blush off her cheeks. She put on a brave face. “Girls, I have good news.”
Evie stuck her fork in her cake and piped, “I thought this was some sort of emergency?”
“It all depends on the perspective you choose to take,” Lisa Leann said. “I like to think of this as a chance for us to raise a million dollars for the building fund at church.”
I plopped my coffee so hard onto the coffee table it sloshed on my napkin. “This is about that reality show. What’s it called?”
“
The Great Party Showdown
,” Lisa Leann said. She reached under her chair and pulled out her briefcase, then pulled out a batch of packets, which she passed around the table.
Evie was already balking. “A reality show? You’ve got to be kidding. You’d never catch me on something like that.”
Lisa Leann walked over to the TV and flipped on the switch. “I hate to hear you say that, Evie, because tonight you’re a star!”
Evie’s jaw dropped. “What?”
A preview for the show popped onto the screen, and sure enough, there was Evie’s face, smudged with a bit of flour as she pounded a huge ball of dough in my bridal shop kitchen. That same sexy voice I’d heard earlier said, “How will the Colorado church ladies of Team Potluck fare in their battle against the Wild Cajun Cooks of Baton Rouge?”
A team of men dressed in long white aprons sporting the name “Wild Cajun Cooks” appeared on the screen. One fellow, whose white chef’s hat read “Bubba,” looked like he’d had a few too many. Bubba sipped a beer before pouring the remains into a bubbling pot, then whooped for the camera. The voice continued as pictures of the other teams flashed on the screen. “Or our other competitors? Stay tuned for an all-out food war on
The Great Party Showdown
, coming up next.”
Lizzie asked, “Wasn’t that clip from Allen and Becky’s wedding?”
Lisa Leann nodded as Donna rose to her feet, her hand on her hip, like she was reaching for her gun. “What’s the meaning of this? We didn’t sign up for any reality show.”
“Calm down, everyone,” Lisa Leann said. “I can explain.”
“Well, you’d better,” Evie said.
“Remember when my son Nelson was here with his fancy video camera? It was state of the art, just like the kind they sometimes use on TV reality shows. His dad and I had bought it for him on eBay to use for a marketing class at U Texas.”
“But how did his footage get on that program?” Evie asked. She leaned back in her chair as she knitted her brows into one long line of worry.
“Evie, I’m getting to that. Like he said, Nelson sent the footage to this reality show as part of his assignment. You might recall we each signed off on it. Though I don’t think any of us thought something like this could actually happen.”
Ever the legal secretary, Goldie recovered her voice to ask, “But I didn’t sign my permission.”
Lisa Leann pulled out a packet of papers from her briefcase and held it up. “Actually, I have a copy of it. Don’t you remember signing the waiver and other paperwork for Nelson?”
Goldie reached for the papers. “Well, yes, but … it was part of his class assignment.” She studied her signature. “I guess I didn’t read the fine print.”
Lisa Leann shrugged. “None of us did.”
Just then, the commercials ended and the musical intro for the show started as all eyes fixed on the television.
I felt my stomach do a flip-flop.
What had Lisa Leann gotten us into this time?
As we finished the vanilla lattes Vonnie had made from my special homemade mix, Gianne Gillian looked into the camera, her blue eyes twinkling. “America, I hope you’ve come hungry,” she said. “Our ten catering teams from around the country are about to whip up a party, and you’re invited. Find out which team can outcook, outcater, and outparty the other teams. America, it’s up to you to say which teams stay in the competition. What’s at stake? For starters, our winning team receives a cool million dollars plus a one-hundred-thousand-dollar kitchen makeover by Fridgnetic.”
