Page 3 of Carnival Queen

“Shush!” said her mother, slapping her knee.

“Ow! What did you do that for?”

“That woman is one of the most beautiful, talented, and successful women in this part of the country, and she’s very wealthy and very powerful,” said her mother. The young girl looked up at her and smirked.

“She doesn’t look like nothin’ to me.”

“Anything,” said Irene, walking toward her. The young girl’s face turned beet red, and her mother squirmed in her seat. “The word is anything. Nothin’ is a term you can use with your friends and family. Even I do it. But here, when you’re trying to impress judges on what a fine young lady you are, you might try to use the appropriate word.”

Irene stared at the girl as she crossed her arms, not saying a word to her. This one was spoiled, entitled, and believed the world revolved around her. She would be a challenge for poor Deanna and the girl’s poor mother. Although Irene suspected the mother knew well what a challenge her daughter was and probably helped to make her that way.

“I’m sorry, Miss Irene,” said the woman. “She’s nervous about all of this.”

“This isn’t anything,” said Irene. “It’s the chance to wave at folks from a float. My daughters all did it at one time or another.”

That got the young girl’s attention. She looked up at the woman as if suddenly giving her full attention.

“That’s right,” nodded Irene. “Six daughters, all were krewe queens. But that wasn’t what made them successful. No. They became doctors, PhDs, nurses, history professors, and much more. They’re wives, mothers, sisters, friends, and good women. This little thing here isn’t anything that anyone will remember. Have fun with it, but don’t get lost in it.”

“Thank you, Irene.” The young girl said nothing, but Irene nodded at her, then turned and walked away. When Irene was out of range, the woman turned to her daughter. “You should have been more polite. They’re a very influential family.”

“I’ve never heard of them,” said the girl with disdain without even questioning her full name.

“That’s because we’re not in their circle,” said her mother. “Your father and I enjoy the country club, and we enjoy a certain social status, but it’s nothing compared to their social circle. They are old money. Very, very old money and we are not. There is a big difference, and one day, you’ll discover what that is.”

The girl stared at the woman as she left the large meeting space. She was just an old woman. Nothing about her world mattered right now. The only thing that mattered was convincing these stupid judges that she was the right person to be carnival queen.

“Next up is number one-forty-three,” said Deanna.

The girl rolled her eyes and slouched in her chair. Her mother gently pushed the center of her back, forcing her to sit upright.

“Respectfulness is a sign of breeding, sweetie. They’re going to see your attitude and act accordingly.”

She only rolled her eyes, sitting straighter and plastering a big smile on her face. She flashed the capped teeth that she’d demanded for her sixteenth birthday, all the while singing a new Drake song in her head so she wouldn’t hear the chatter around her.

Dozens of girls were nervously shifting in their seats, knowing they weren’t going to be selected for this. There really was no competition. She’d been preparing for this her entire life. Pageants, cheer, dance, all of it! Anything she wanted to do, her parents gave it to her.

Oh, she knew that they were spoiling her, but she also knew they were doing it because they couldn’t seem to find time to actually spend with her. Her mother was too busy making the perfect home of their brand-new McMansion while her father was off doing whatever it was he did.

None of that mattered. None of it. She needed this to secure her position for the future. If she were the queen of this float, it would look amazing on her college resume and impress anyone who reads it.

This was her ticket out.

“Next up is number one-forty-four,” said Deanna.

“That’s me,” said the girl, standing. She turned to the other girls, giving a snide smile as if this was all wrapped up and they could leave. Her mother only stood to follow her.

“Ma’am, just the girl is all we need. No parents, please,” said Deanna.

“Of course,” she said, nodding.

She could hear the snickers of the women behind her. She’d been labeled a pageant mom for years and didn’t really care. Anything to help her daughter get the crown, the check, the boy, the job, the career, the life she wished she’d had.

Anything.

CHAPTER THREE

“Mama? Mama?” called Claudette, waving her hand in front of her mother’s face. “Mama, are you alright?”

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