Melody (Logan 1)

Provincetown," the judge said. "Don't forget that beauty contest. I was one of the judges."

"What beauty contest?" I blurted out. Aunt Sara brought her hand to her mouth to cover a gasp. I was breaking a rule: I was speaking before being spoken to.

"Your mother never told you?" Judge Childs asked.

"Apparently, her mother told her very little," Grandma Olivia said with a twist in her thin lips.

"Oh, some company or another--I forget which one now--sponsored a Miss Teenage Cape Cod contest and it ended up here, with your mother one of the five finalists. They paraded around in their bathing suits and pretty dresses and answered questions with their eyelids batting." He laughed. "None of the other four had a chance, did they, Samuel?"

"Not a chance," he said nodding.

"Hardly an accomplishment to talk about now," Grandma Olivia said.

"Oh, we all thought it was a lot of fun back then, Olivia. You had a celebration here, didn't you?" he reminded her. She glanced quickly at Grandpa Samuel.

"That wasn't my idea. I went along with it, but I never thought it was anything to brag about."

"Why, as I recall, Provincetown folks were proud that one of their own took the prize. You know how people get competitive, especially with those Plymouth Rock folk," Judge Childs added winking at me. "Didn't she get a trophy or something? You never saw it, Melody?" the judge asked me.

"No, sir."

"Maybe she pawned it," Grandma Olivia mumbled just loud enough for us all to hear.

"There wasn't a boy in town who wasn't in love with Haille in those days," the judge continued. Grandma squirmed in her chair. "That's when Kenneth started camping out on your front lawn." He laughed.

"How's he doing these days?" Grandpa Samuel asked. "I can't recall the last time I saw him."

"Same as always," the judge said shaking his head. "If I didn't go to his studio, I wouldn't see him either. He's married to his work, worse than a monk. I hear that those small clay sculptures of the terns are going for ten thousand dollars. Imagine that, Jacob?"

"I can't," Uncle Jacob said. "Just a lot of foolish rich folk, I guess."

"Kenneth's not complaining." The judge gazed long and hard at me again. "What are your interests, Melody?"

"I'm not sure yet," I said. "Maybe teaching," I added, glancing at Cary. He blushed.

"Good idea," the judge said nodding.

"She plays the fiddle," Grandpa Samuel said. "You bring it tonight?"

I looked at Aunt Sara quickly and then back at him. "No, Grandpa," I said.

"Oh, that's a shame. I was looking forward to a concert."

"I can go back and fetch it for her," Cary volunteered, that impish smile on his face again.

"There's no time for that," Grandma said, rising quickly. "It's time for dinner. Jerome," she called and the butler popped into the doorway as if he had been dangling just above it.

"Madam?"

"Tell the kitchen we are ready to sit at the table," she commanded.

He nodded. "Very well, madam."

The judge rose and held out his arm.

"Olivia, allow me to escort you," he offered, while throwing me a coy smile.

Holding her head high and her shoulders back, Grandma took his arm. Grandpa Samuel followed behind them and we walked behind him into the dining room.