Scrappy Summer by Mollie Cox Bryan Read Free Book Online Page B

enough
     air in her basement.
    “Give me the computer,” Vera said.
    “No,” Sheila said. “I’ll do it. I will. Just give me a minute.”
    She took a deep breath, brought her hand to the keyboard, clicked on the email and
     read aloud: “Dear Mrs. Rogers, we are pleased to inform you that you have won the
     grand prize. . . .”
    She looked up at Vera. “Vera,” she said and grabbed her. “I won. I’m a designer. It’s
     true.” Sheila’s vision started to blur, and she felt woozy.
    “Sheila! Get her some water!”
    But it was too late for Sheila, the new scrapbook designer, as all went black.
     
     
    Beatrice and Jon sat in the middle of the crowd in the fire hall, awaiting news of
     the winners. They watched as Vera came in with Eric and Elizabeth, who was sticky
     with cotton candy but grinning. Then came Annie with her boys. Lawd, they were getting
     big. One lugged around a wagon with stuffed animals he’d earned playing games at the
     fair. Sheila and Paige came into the hall together. Beatrice wondered where DeeAnn
     was. Surely, she would not let these folks keep her away from seeing who the winner
     was.
    Jon reached for her hand and winked at her. She smiled back at him, her old heart
     fluttering. Who knew that at eighty-three years old she’d find love again?
    “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to get started,” one of the judges said, then tapped
     the mike. “Is this thing on? Can you hear me?”
    “Jesus,” Beatrice muttered.
    “Of course,” Jon yelled along with everyone else’s replies.
    As if they even needed a mike.
    “Good,” the judge said, grinning. “First. I want to thank . . .”
    He went on and on. Beatrice wasn’t paying a bit of attention. She often tuned out
     these locals when they were speaking at an engagement. It was painful to hear them.
    She was thinking about time and the movement of it. The way her daughter and the scrapbookers
     tried to capture it. It was futile. Time rolled on. It was as it should be. She was
     also thinking about Emily McGlashen’s mother and father and was wondering how they
     were getting on back at the commune. Poor Emily had been killed about a year after
     she moved to Cumberland Creek.
    “Third place goes to Macy Freed,” the judge said. The words third place snapped Bea back to the present. She needed to pay attention to this.
    Lawd, she couldn’t believe how short Macy’s shorts were. If they came up any higher,
     everybody would get a good view of what was meant to be private. She hoped the woman
     would stop bouncing. Beatrice was afraid something would bounce right out of place
     and embarrass all of them.
    “Congratulations, Macy,” the judge said. “Your prize is a free haircut at Hair Cuttery.
     Now, on to the second place winner, who gets a free haircut, as well. Rachel Burkholder!”
    When Rachel stood, Bea saw the disappointment emanating from every pore of her body.
     A staged smile spread across her face as she accepted her prize.
    Goodness, Beatrice should not be taking so much pleasure in this. It was mean-spirited,
     and she was ashamed of herself. But at the same time, this woman had won three years
     in a row. She needed to get over it.
    “Ladies and gentlemen, the blue ribbon and the Walmart gift certificate go to a new
     person in town. Nobody on the board had heard of her before. She made an exquisite
     red velvet pie. One of the judges said the pie is ‘a culinary culmination of creativity
     and delicious excellence.’”
    Jon grabbed Beatrice’s hand.
    Murmurs from the crowd. A sense of anticipation sparked through the crowd.
    “Ms. Dixie Smith!”
    Applause erupted, then quieted as people began to look around. Where was she?
    “Dixie Smith?” The judge spoke the name again.
    This was the first time the winner hadn’t raced up, squealing, to the podium in all
     the competition’s long history. The judges squirmed.
    “I’ve never heard of her,” someone in the crowd said.
    “She must not