The Charm Bracelet(83)

“My question to today’s contestants is this,” the emcee stated. “Name da most influential person in your life.”

Girl after girl responded: “Daddy,” “Jesus,” or “Tom Izzo, the Michigan State basketball coach.”

“Finally, Lauren Lindsey,” the emcee said, as the group of contestants stood on the platform over the river. “Please name da most influential person in your life.”

Lauren stepped to the mic in the middle of the stage, stared out over the river and then scanned the crowd.

She stopped and caught her breath. When she began again, her voice was as wavy as the current of the Scoops River.

“My grandmother,” she said. “Life has not always been easy on her: She’s lost everything and everyone, at one time, and yet she has somehow managed not only to survive but also to believe in the beauty of the world. She has remained an optimist. She has fun in this life, no matter what. I’ve learned that you can plan your life all you want, but you can’t control it. You have to dive headfirst into it, experience its joys and pains … you have to live … and then you have to share those stories with the ones you love before it’s too late.”

Lauren stopped and cleared her throat. Quiet enveloped the bleachers. Lauren could hear the wind float across the water, and, as it did, catch her charm bracelets and make them sing. She looked over at the ancient weeping willow, whose arms were sweeping in the river, singing in the breeze, joyously telling the secrets of its own past. Lauren smiled and said, “Grandma, would you join me on stage?”

Lolly—as bright as the sun—slowly made her way out to the platform. Lauren took her hand, and brought her into her body.

“This pageant has long been my grandmother’s dream. Her whole life, she’s supported everyone else’s dreams, sacrificed herself to make others happy. I wouldn’t be standing here today without her.”

Lauren hesitated but continued. “We need to take time to get to know our elders, because they have led lives we can barely imagine. I’ve come to appreciate that our elders—our grandmothers—are not only the pillars of our families, the charms in our lives, but also the bridges to our past and the steppingstones to our future. Today is not only for my grandmother, but for all the grandparents in the world who fought for all of us to have better lives.”

There was silence for a few seconds, before the crowd began to clap. That applause turned into a roar, and, quickly, the crowd was on its feet, screaming. Arden looked around: Many were wiping tears from their faces.

“That’s my daughter!” Arden began to yell, pointing toward the stage. “And that’s my mother! Lolly!”

As the applause died down and the judges began to deliberate, Arden looked up at the pines and the birch that circled the park, and she smiled. Arden could see her mother in those trees: They bent but never broke; they believed good days were to come in spite of the often bad weather; they loved the simplicity of nature and life; and they were always reaching toward heaven.

“What is it?” Jake asked.

“Is this what it’s like to be happy?” Arden asked.

Jake studied her face, uncertain of what she was asking.

“To just be in the moment?” she continued. “Not running or planning or working. Just enjoying this very second of life, without trying to perfect it, change it, or run from it?”

“Yes,” Jake said.

“I like happy,” Arden replied. “It’s a very nice place. Like Michigan.”

She stopped.

“And I also … well, I also … really like you,” Arden said, finally saying the words she had longed to get out.

Jake grabbed Arden’s face and kissed her, inhaled her, held her, and didn’t stop even after the crowd began to catcall. Jake removed a hand from behind Arden’s neck and began to encourage the crowd with it.

“And I really like you, too, Arden,” Jake said, pulling Arden into his big body.

“Da judges have da decision!” the emcee announced over the loudspeaker.

Arden jerked upright. “Here we go!”

“I didn’t think you wanted to be here,” Jake razzed her.

“Ssshhhh!”

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s now time to announce da first runner-up and new Tulip Queen. Are you ladies ready?”

The twenty girls clutched hands and clamped their eyes shut. “The first runner-up is … Tara Milligan!”

A pretty blonde in an eggplant-colored gown claimed her tulips and a new sash, and stepped to the side.

“And, now, da moment we’ve all been waiting for … the Seventy-Fifth Annual Tulip Queen is … Lauren Lindsey!”

The crowd screamed its approval, and Arden didn’t realize she was crying until she could taste her mascara.

The emcee placed a Tulip Queen sash across Lauren’s shoulder while the outgoing queen placed a crown atop Lauren’s blond head and handed her a huge bouquet of colorful tulips and a little box wrapped in a bright ribbon.

“Introducing your 2014 queen, Lauren Lindsey! Lauren, you may take your coronation walk!”

Lauren raised her arms and waved to the crowd as she made her way across the platform. At the end of the platform, she held out her arms, and her grandmother came running into them. The two then walked—hand in hand—back across the stage. Lolly raised her left arm, and cupped her hand, waving it like a true queen.