Mel. “Now Mariel’s going to have a hissy fit and her hissy fits are the stuff of legend.”
“Should we call someone?” Mel asked.
“Let’s wait until we see bloodshed,” Ginny said. Then she smiled. “I always love to watch your mother when she gets her back up. She’s just as cute as a hedgehog until she bites.”
Mel moved to step forward but Angie held her back with a hand on her elbow. “I’m with Ginny on this one. ‘Let us see what Squirt does flying solo.’”
“You’re quoting
Finding Nemo
now?” Mel asked.
Angie tipped her head in the direction of the altercation and made a shushing noise.
“I will not stand for this!” Mariel sputtered. She lashed out and kicked over a nearby chair.
“Fine,” Joyce said. “I’m just as happy to sit. Oh, well, I would have until you started kicking over the furniture. For goodness sake, act your age!”
“Ah!” Mariel gasped and Mel suspected she thought that was an age slam when really it was just a mom thing to say.
“I will not tolerate being called a cheater.” Mariel leaned forward until her face was inches from Joyce’s.
“Then make it right,” Joyce said through gritted teeth. She didn’t back up but rather leaned forward until the two women were nose-to-nose.
“Mrs. Cooper, Joyce,” Lupe implored. “Please don’t go to any trouble for me.”
Mel glanced at Lupe, who had joined the ladies, and again she was struck by how lovely the young woman beneath the dyed fringe and baggy black clothes was. Today she was in a delicate floral lace sheath dress in a pretty shade of turquoise with beige open-toed pumps. She looked as if she should be strutting down the runway at a fashion show.
“Wow,” Angie said, echoing Mel’s thoughts exactly.
“If Oz were here right now, he’d stroke out,” Mel said, and Angie nodded.
“It’s no trouble, Lupe,” Joyce said. She stepped back from Mariel and yanked on the lapels of her plum-colored jacket. “I have already called Cici Hastings and plan to have her go over these scores. Maybe she can shed some light on why Mariel’s scores are thirty points lower than all of the other judges.”
“You dare to question me?” Mariel’s nostrils flared.
“When your scores are so out of whack?” Joyce asked. “You bet I do. Oh, and we’ll be checking to see if you did this to every contestant or just Lupe.”
Mariel stepped around Joyce. She looked Lupe over with a sneer that lifted the corner of her upper lip, making her look as vicious as a wild dog about to attack.
“You don’t belong here,” Mariel hissed. “Just because you combed your hair and they shoved you in a nice dress does not make you worthy of the title of Miss Sweet Tiara and you know it.”
Lupe ducked her head and her curtain of thick black hair swept forward, covering her face. Shame poured off of her in waves, and Mel felt her stomach clench in sympathy. She wanted to smack the smirk right off of Mariel’s face.
Angie stiffened beside her, and Mel was afraid that Angie would launch herself at Mariel. Ginny and Mel each put a hand on Angie’s arms, holding her back. Much as Mel wanted to jump in as well, she knew this wasn’t their fight and if it turned ugly, it would put an end to Lupe’s dreams of a scholarship, which would do her no good at all.
Joyce reached out and cupped Lupe’s chin. She raised the girl’s head until Lupe met her gaze.
“Do not listen to her. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Joyce said. Mariel squawked in protest, but Joyce kept going, drowning her out. “They would be lucky to have a young woman like you wearing their crown. Now show me the beauty that I know is in there.”
Lupe nodded and straightened her back. She blinked as if to keep back her tears and she tipped her chin up. Her smile was brave and all the more beautiful because Mel knew it was costing her on a soul level.
Mariel made a derisive snort and muttered, “Trash.”
Joyce whipped around and
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