Wait for Me

She finishes and the room bursts into applause, Digger on the front row standing and clapping his hands high. Darcy returns to the backstage, and the woman jerks on her collar.

“That was terrible. You might as well have sleep-walked through the whole thing.”

Darcy’s chin is tucked, and I’m about to say something to the woman.

“Sorry, Mamma.”

She takes the little girl’s hand and drags her farther backstage, and I look at Dove.

My daughter doesn’t say a word, but her blue eyes are big and thoughtful.

She leans forward and kisses my cheek. “I gotta go back there, Daddy.”

I put her down and she goes to wait with the other little girls while the judges confer and make their decision. I return to where Noel is pacing the back of the civic center chewing her nails.

“How does she seem?” She looks up at me, her amber eyes as big as her daughter’s.

“Good. She’s pretty cool about the whole thing.”

Mr. MC calls out the names, bringing the final five little girls up to the stage just like a real Miss America contest.

He goes down them one by one. Boo made it to fourth runner-up, and we clap loudly, giving Tamara a hug.

“At least she did that well,” she laughs. We all got a kick out of Boo playing the crystal glasses as her talent.

“It’s all Bill knew to teach her,” Tamara explained. “My talent is sewing, and you can’t sew a dress for a pageant.”

We’re down to the top two, and Darcy and Dove are the only little girls on the stage. My heart is beating so hard, it can’t be healthy. Noel buries her head into my chest, and I hold the back of her head. Dove’s eyes are so big and excited. I can’t bear the thought of her being disappointed.

Yet, in the wings, I catch sight of Darcy’s mom scowling, and my eyes go to Digger’s little niece. For the first time, I see her glancing at my daughter and standing a little straighter, lifting her chin a little higher.

Sickness is in the pit of my stomach. The MC takes a glitter-trimmed envelope and steps to the center of the stage smiling.

“And our judges have decided. This year’s Princess Peach, who will assume all the duties of Princess Peach and receive a scholarship in the amount of five-thousand dollars is…”

Noel’s fingers tighten on my shirt, and my eyes lock on my daughter’s.

It feels like time pauses for a breath.

“First runner-up is Dove LaGrange-Rhodes, which means Miss Darcy Hayes is Princess Pea

ch…”

His voice fades out as my gaze tunnels on Dove. She blinks and a true smile splits her cheeks. She’s given the first runner-up ribbon and a small tiara, but she also gives Darcy a genuine hug.

Noel is just the opposite beside me. “What?” Her voice goes high. “What a bunch of horse sh—”

“Shh.” I put my hand over her mouth and pull her close to my chest. “Hang on a minute. Let’s see what Dove has to say.”

“She doesn’t need a fu-freaking pageant to tell her she’s a superstar. That’s why I hate these fu… dumb things.”

Darcy prances the length of the runway with a crown almost bigger than her head and a bunch of roses bigger than her body. She bows, and her mother stands in the wings preening.

Dove nods a bow and moves to the opposite wing, and we’re right there to catch her hands and pull her in for hugs.

“You did so good, baby!” Noel hugs her tight, kissing her cheeks. “I couldn’t be prouder of you if you were Princess Peach. I thought you were amazing.”

“I know, Mamma.” She hugs her mother, but she seems preoccupied.