Page 98 of The Wedding Favor

“Wow. Okay. Tell me how you really feel.” I covered my face with my hands. “This is going to be a disaster.”

“Darling.” She leaned forward and patted my knee. “It’s just a small local pageant.”

“Yeah, that just means everyone I’ve ever known will be in attendance.”

“And? One of my favorite things about you is that you don’t care what other people think of you at all. Why start now?”

That was the thing, wasn’t it? I did care what people thought, but I’d learned to play it off as though I didn’t. Never give them that kind of power of you.

“You know, I was Miss Two Harts when I was eighteen. I was very good. I had the loveliest dress that my mother made for me. I still have it somewhere.”

“I had no idea. You never want to talk about your life before New York.” I pointed at the collage of photos that covered most of one of the walls. “You have all these pictures and not one of them is from your childhood.”

“Yes, well, life began when I got to New York. Everything else was just the prologue.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“No, I don’t. I’ve always kept the two parts separate. The Gloria before New York and the Gloria after.”

“Who do you like better?” I asked.

“Neither and both. It would be too hard to pick. Two very different people.”

“Sounds complicated.”

Gloria frowned ever so slightly (because she did not want to encourage wrinkles). “We’re all very simple creatures when you get down to it. But we do like to make things complicated.”

Her eyes drifted to the collection of framed photos hanging over her television. There was a black-and-white wedding photo of her and her husband, a few of the two of them together in some part of the world or another—they’d loved to travel—and one of her in full Rockette mode that I loved.

She seemed to wilt before my eyes, sagging in the chair with a tired sigh. “I suppose I’ve been thinking about those years more these days. Because of George…”

George had passed away two weeks ago, and it had a noticeable effect on Gloria. “I know you miss him.”

“I do. Very much.” Blinking away tears, she looked away, almost embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“It’s all part of life,” she said, her voice weary. “I’ve lost my parents, my sister, my husband, and more friends than I care to count.”

I touched the back of her hand. “You have me.”

After a quiet moment, she gathered herself together and flashed a brilliant smile. “Now, let’s get back to this pageant. We have so much to do to get you ready.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did you just make me your project?”

“Obviously. Now, stand up and turn around.” Her voice cracked with authority. “I need to see exactly what I’m working with here. Set your expectations now. I’m very good, but even I am not a miracle worker.”

THIRTY-EIGHT

“I strived to reach the highest level of humility.

Obviously, I failed.”

—excerpt from the unpublished memoir,

Darling, I Must Say by Gloria Hayes

I had a problem.