“I would ask if I was better this time, but the claps let me know I at least hit the last mark good as hell and right now that’s all I care about,” I said as I unhooked my arms from the silk.
Mama Steph laughed.
“I know I haven’t told you this yet, but I hate to admit that the idea of incorporating this pole dancing with the silks was really excellent. The judges will love the element,” she boasted while I chuckled as I walked to the edge of the stage and began to take off my shoes.
“Yeah and here you thought it would be whorish,” I joked as she scoffed, looking at my dance coach who happened to be a stripper. She tucked her lip, hiding her amusement. She understood by now that Mama Stephanie was harmless.
“Johnni, that’s not funny nor what I said. Kimmie, sweetie, I promise she’s telling tales. I simply said this was different and were you sure about adding the pole to the silks. But after seeing the routine, I can appreciate the vision.” I cracked up watching my prim and proper mother-in-law stressing right now.
“Mama Steph, relax. She knows I was playing.”
“Right. You’re good, Mrs. Stephanie. Meanwhile, Johnni, while you’re playing, you still fucked up on the drop, but maybe we can adjust that. I’ll do the routine when I come back tonight to see what I can do instead,” Kimmie added, packing up her stuff too.
She was here way before her scheduled shift. Of course Mama Steph paid her and rented out the club so I could have what she called a professional setting.
Like me, she took my pageants profoundly serious.
“We have our first major competition in a couple weeks. Is that enough time to make her perfect?”
“Yes, we might have to do a couple late night runs after the club closes since I have class during the day and the kids don’t have after school all this week. But I guarantee I can get you right.”
“And your boss will be okay with us in here after hours?” I asked, now sliding into my flip-flops, thankful for the instant relief.
“Hell yeah. As long as the money is right, they don’t give a damn.”
I looked at Mama Steph who already had her phone out, pressing away. I was sure either moving money or requesting it. Each season she took on a different task that she paid forpersonally and this year she picked the talent category, which not only included wardrobe, but also rehearsals, trainers, and, in this case, the venue.
I made my way over to her and kissed her cheek as she was still busy with her attention on her phone.
“Love you, Mama Steph. I have to go tend to that son of yours who I’m sure has been blowing my phone up since we went twenty minutes over my rehearsal time.” The mention of Quincey had her waving me off as she scoffed again.
“That son of mine needs to learn that when we’re working, he doesn’t matter. You’re Johnni Lourdè during our pageant season, not Mrs. Wilson. I’ll see you later in the week for your appointment with O’ni for your final fitting.” She said that and meant it, but I also paid her no mind because I knew if Quentin Wilson called, she would go running.
Much like her, I had been a married woman for the greater part of my life. Hell, you could say all my life. Quincey and I were high school sweethearts who met in middle school and barely made it past the legal age to say ourI dos. Well, only me. I was nineteen and he was twenty-two when we got married. Here we were ten years later, still together.
I did my best beauty queen wave and I was out the door, heading to my car so I could return to my life as a married woman.
As soon as I got in my car, I pulled out my phone to call Quincey who I was sure had called a few times. He was currently out of town at the Capitol.
While my world was moving fast, his was sprinting. Even with it being a midterm year, I felt like I hadn't seen Quincey in weeks the way our schedules had been out of sync. And for once, I wasn't complaining. Normally, I craved my husband’s company, but lately I had been so stressed with pageant preparations, and now adding Quincey’s stuff, the last thingI wanted to do was to come home and have to entertain or cook more than my girl dinner of random shit I had in the refrigerator.
Election years were rough for us. Him obviously, but I caught the tail end of whatever came home with him.
Being the wife of a congressman wasn't for the weak, and adding Quincey’s need to appear as the picture-perfect couple always seemed to add to the stress of fulfilling my wifely duties.
So whenever I got a break to breathe and be, I welcomed it with wide arms and held onto it tight as fuck.
“Hey Josie, how was practice? Y’all were running late today. I called a couple times.”
His husky tone came over the car speaker, letting me know the phone barely rang before the call connected to my speakers.
“Hey Q, yeah, we went a little bit over, but it was good. Between Mama and Kimmie I should be ready for locals soon. How are things down there? When should I expect you back?”
“Things are on track for this November. I might have some news though that might change everything, but we can discuss that when I come home in a few days. Tell me about practice. Please tell me you and Mama were at the house with the pole I had installed before I left.”
I rolled my eyes softly as I pulled into traffic. I didn’t want to go back and forth with him about it, so I ignored him and changed the subject back to him.
“Wait, what do you mean change everything? Like what, Q? What should I mentally prepare for? Andpleasekeep in mind that I’m stressed enough.”
