Homicide and Halo-Halo (Tita Rosie's Kitchen Mystery #2)(11)

Based on the number of gasps and murmurs that accompanied some of Valerie’s announcements, most of the crowd hadn’t even bothered to crack open the envelope. Removing the modeling and evening gown sections seemed to be a popular move, but when she mentioned the thirty-hour volunteering portion of the program, which counted for 40 percent of the total score and also required an essay of reflection, there was almost a mutiny.

“What does that have to do with Miss Teen Shady Palms? This is a beauty pageant!” Mary Ann Randall said, clutching her actual pearls in rage.

Valerie looked at her coldly. “And we want to make sure our winner is beautiful inside and out. Brains, ambition, and spirit are what will win this contest. Miss Teen Shady Palms is more than just a pretty smile.”

Mary Ann reared back as if she’d been hit. Her friend stepped up beside her. “But that’s unfair! How are the girls supposed to get thirty hours of volunteer work done in such a short time? They’re just kids!”

Valerie pinched the bridge of her nose. “The requirements were clearly listed on the application form. If you didn’t bother reading it before filling it out and checking the box, you have no one to blame but yourself.”

I looked around to see how everyone was taking that statement, and as my eyes swept the crowd, I finally found Joy, who was standing next to Bernadette. Joy and I made eye contact and she smiled brightly at me, nodding her head to let me know she already knew about the requirement. Of course she did. When she’d applied to work at Tita Rosie’s Kitchen, her resume said she’d been volunteering at the local animal shelter since freshman year of high school, so this was nothing to her. Good girl. I wondered why she was with Ate Bernie instead of her parents—I would’ve liked to meet them.

“And now I’d like to introduce our judges,” Valerie continued. The mayor stood behind her, arms crossed and expression stormy. I got the feeling that he’d planned on being the emcee that night and Valerie had stolen his thunder.

“I’m sure you all know my brother, Rob Thompson, the benefactor of this pageant.” Rob moved forward to say something, but Valerie steamrolled on. “And while his generosity is wonderful, I’d like to focus on these two very inspiring young women: Sana Williams and Lila Macapagal!”

The room broke out in applause, while Sana and I awkwardly smiled and waved at the crowd. I guess this was why Valerie had asked how to pronounce my last name earlier that day, a gesture I definitely appreciated.

“Sana and Lila are both women of color and they’ve gone on to do great things. That’s why I was so eager to get them on the judges’ panel,” Valerie said, beaming at the crowd.

Sana and I exchanged glances at Valerie’s well-intentioned yet unflattering surprise at our success as “women of color,” glances that spoke of the frustration we felt at moments like this. Moments that happened far too often.

Valerie continued, oblivious to her obliviousness, “Miss Teen Shady Palms contestants, this is the perfect opportunity to take advantage of these women’s expertise. Ask questions. Be curious. Be ambitious. And good luck!”

After another round of applause, Sana, Rob, and I left the stage together. As I waited for my turn to descend the narrow stairs off to the side, I heard the mayor say, “Interesting speech. But I am to be the emcee at all the major events from now on. You may be a Thompson, but you don’t run this town.”

I strained to hear Valerie’s response, but it was impossible without making my eavesdropping obvious.

I followed Sana and Rob to a table where George and Nettie Bishop were laying out tray after tray of their amazing Southern-style comfort food. They both paused what they were doing to wrap me up in a big Bishop hug. Big Bishop’s BBQ was a Shady Palms institution and one of the first Black-owned businesses in town. If Valerie wanted to acknowledge women of color who had made it in Shady Palms, Nettie Bishop was the OG. Her husband, George, may have been the one who manned the grill, but everyone knew it was Nettie who reigned over the restaurant.

“Miss Nettie! Big George! I didn’t expect to see you here,” I said, accepting the heaping plate Big George pushed on me.

“Mr. Thompson hired us to cater his portion of the potluck,” Miss Nettie said, winking at Rob.

Rob shrugged. “There’s no way anyone would want to eat something I made, and the Bishops make the finest food in town. Oh, uh, present company excluded, of course.”

I smiled at him. “Considering how much time I spent at Big Bishop’s BBQ in high school, I’m happy to share that honor.”

Sana said, “Well, this is my first time trying your food and it’s amazing! I don’t normally indulge like this, but this mac and cheese is so worth it.”

Big George grinned at her. “Why, thank you, miss. You should stop by the restaurant sometime. A pretty lady like you is sure to drum up business.”

Miss Nettie swatted his arm. He winced, and added, “You too, Lila. We miss having you around.”

He gave me a sad smile, likely asking for forgiveness. We’d had a bit of a falling-out due to my ex-boyfriend. Or more like, Big George hadn’t wanted to see me since I reminded him of my ex’s betrayal. So I’d been avoiding his restaurant the last few months. Guess this was his way of welcoming me back.

“Thanks, Big George. I’ll stop by later this week with Terrence. We need to talk about the flyers I want him to design for the new cafe anyway.”