The Summer of Sunshine and Margot(60)

“Are you saying I can learn a lot or the girls can?”

“Both.”

They walked into the auditorium. Margot guided them to seats in the back, on the side, out of the way of family members taking videos and anyone else who had come just to watch. She wanted to have a clear view of the stage, but also be able to talk without disturbing anyone.

“I still don’t get the point of all this,” Bianca said as they took their seats.

“You’re here to get a feel for what’s happening. Watch the girls and their body language. Who wants to be here and who doesn’t? Who has the dream and who is being forced into it because Mom never got the chance to compete when she was little?”

“How will I be able to tell that?”

Margot smiled at her. “You are a very keen observer of people. You’ll know before I will, but I’ll show you what I mean. When you get nervous, you tighten up and look for a distraction. At some point the need to change the narrative takes over and the results can be—”

“Disastrous?”

“I was thinking more that they spiral out of control. I’m hoping by watching these girls, you’ll feel what they’re feeling and see how they handle it. Or don’t. There will be tears and tantrums and outbursts. Sometimes seeing a situation play out in someone else’s life brings us clarity.”

Margot shrugged. “I’m winging it, Bianca. So this may be a colossal waste of time.”

“I’m excited.”

A woman stepped up to the podium. “Kristen Kenneth on the violin.”

A small girl moved into the center of the stage. She looked nervous and Margot felt herself tense, remembering how much she hated being onstage. Then she reminded herself she wasn’t the point of the exercise and consciously relaxed back into her seat. When the girl lifted her bow and the first note filled the auditorium, she could relax for real. The contestant was an excellent musician.

Music soared and danced. The girl’s eyes sank closed as she retreated into the beauty of the piece. Margot leaned toward Bianca.

“Tell me what you’re thinking?”

“She’s gifted and loves her music. I’m not sure she wants to be in a beauty pageant.” She narrowed her gaze. “She’s not nearly pretty enough. She might grow into her looks, but I doubt it. She’s not naturally elegant. I think someone in the family is making her do this and they should leave her alone to have a musical career.”

Margot stared at her. “Wow. That was good. Okay, you’re totally getting this.”

Several more girls competed in the talent competition. One tap-danced with a lot more enthusiasm than talent. When she slipped and landed on the stage on her butt, she burst into tears and ran off.

“A quitter,” Bianca murmured.

Margot winced. “That might be a bit harsh.”

“She’s chubby and there’s no way she’s going to be a beauty. In my business they call it a face for radio.”

“You need to dial it down.”

“I’m telling you what I think.”

“Try being less mean.”

“Whatever.”

They watched a few more girls, then there was a break. Margot stood. “Let’s go backstage.” She narrowed her gaze. “On the condition you only say nice things.”

“It was one comment. You know I’m right about her.”

“Actually I don’t. I’ve seen average-looking girls blossom into great beauties and pretty girls who weren’t the least bit successful in pageants. My great-grandmother would know. She could look at a seven-year-old and tell you how she was going to grow up. It was a gift.”

They made their way down the aisle toward the stage.

“So why do they do this?” Bianca asked. “Why take the chance when you have no idea if you’re going to be pageant material?” She made air quotes around the last two words.

“Lots of reasons. At this age, some are doing it for Mom, as we discussed. But for others, it’s fun to play with clothes and makeup. You meet people and learn skills. If you want to go into journalism or anything to do with the media, you’ll learn how to speak to a group, have poise in nearly any situation. At the upper levels, the scholarship money can make the difference between the school of your dreams and community college. If you win at the state level, you’ll have opportunities most people can’t even dream of.”

Bianca stared at her in surprise. “You believe in all this.”

“I’ve seen what the pageants can do. It’s a lot more than a show on cable TV.” Margot walked around the stage and opened the door leading to the dressing rooms. “Having said that, there are girls who are here because they have to be and not because they want to be. A lot is on the line. Emotions run high and there is plenty of drama.”

She showed her backstage pass to a security guard, then opened another door that led behind the stage. The volume went from quiet to battleworthy shrieks and squeals. Girls ran everywhere, laughing, crying, twirling and texting. Family members—mostly moms but some grandparents and the occasional dad—did their best to corral their girls. A few of them looked at Bianca and did a double take, as if they weren’t sure if they recognized her or not, something Margot had worried about. She pulled Bianca to the side.