The Red-Hot Chili Cook-Off by Carolyn Brown Read Free Book Online

suggested.
    â€œShe’d have to be willing for it,” Floy said. “Can’t lay hands on a woman that ain’t willing for help. I don’t know what we’ll do about her being on the Easter egg committee.”
    â€œI’ll go get your bras.” Alma Grace slipped out of the room.
    There was no way that Carlene would be willing to show up for a night of prayer. Too bad. They could have a potluck and she’d talk her mama’s cook into making her famous pecan sandy cookies for the refreshment table.
    She met Patrice coming out of the stockroom.
    Patrice stopped in the hallway and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “I wish we would have done this Friday. Is Floy talkin’ about Carlene?”
    Alma Grace nodded. “Oh, yeah, but I told her that I was praying about it and God would surely give them the good sense to get back together. And I am praying, Patrice, whether you like it or not.”
    â€œI’m already sick to death of hearing about it and you’d better not pray in my presence, girl. Not if you value your life. Blood is supposed to be thicker than water, you know.” Patrice headed into the stockroom.
    Alma Grace took three bras from the rack and carried them back to the dressing room. Floy chose the plainest one and shooed Alma Grace outside. “I don’t need an audience to put on my undergarments. If you want to be the head of the Easter committee, Alma Grace, you’d best fix this mess.”
    ***
    Carlene sunk down into an overstuffed vintage chair beside the dressing room and threw a hand over her eyes when the choir ladies had gathered up their new bras and the remains of their brown-bag lunches and took off toward the church with Alma Grace in tow. She was glad that her cousin was the head honcho when it came to the Easter program. Maybe she’d go get a dose of the Holy Spirit with her singing and come back with a smile on her face. She’d been walking around all morning like she’d just been diagnosed with some dread disease and only had two hours to live.
    A marriage had died that morning but there wouldn’t be a funeral. The more she thought about it, the more Carlene didn’t want a damn thing that Lenny had. She wanted her business and half of the equity in the house, since she’d made half the payments the past five years. The rest he could keep because she’d never know if one of his women had touched it. Well, all of it except for her Granny Fannin’s crystal candleholders. For those she’d fight him to the death.
    Patrice fell into the chair beside her and covered her eyes with both hands.
    â€œDid you have a rough weekend, too?” Carlene asked.
    â€œHad a wonderful weekend at the beginning. Spent it with Yancy in my house, drinking and having sex, watching a movie and having sex while we watched it, eating supper naked, and then we broke up and I ate a quart of rocky road ice cream. Must be the weekend for breaking up. I’m sorry, honey.” She got up quickly and crossed the room, dropped down in front of Carlene, wrapped her arms around her, and hugged her tightly. “I’m a sorry excuse for a cousin. I was so damn mad at Lenny that I forgot to console you.”
    Carlene leaned on Patrice’s shoulder. “Rocky road with whipped cream and nuts?”
    â€œAin’t no other way to eat it. Now I’m bloated all out to hell, hungover, and I’ve got a wicked headache even after Josie’s hotter’n hell cure,” Patrice said.
    Carlene managed a weak smile. “Don’t tell her or she’ll make you drink another one.”
    Josie slid into the third chair. “I’m taking my lunch break. I wasn’t about to poke my head out the door until all those church women left. I bet all they wanted to talk about was Lenny. Am I right? Beulah called my cell phone twice but I didn’t answer it.”
    Carlene nodded. “Looks like I opened a