Revenge of the Girl With the Great Personality (19 page)

W
ow.

Just wow.

Mackenzie has spent the last half hour rolling on the floor laughing.

Miss Lauren inspects her creation. “I think it would be best that you don’t mention that I did this. I don’t think I’d ever work again.”

“It’ll be our little secret.”

There’s a knock on the door.

Mac lets our other accomplices in. “We have —” Cam stops dead in her tracks when she sees me.

“It’s okay. You can laugh.”

Benny’s mouth is hanging open. He starts to take me in. “Are you seriously going to go through with this?”

“Yep.”

Cam nods approvingly. “Brilliant.”

“Here.” Benny hands me my sewing machine while Cam puts the garment bags on the bed. He continues to study me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that you were planning on auditioning as an Oompa Loompa today.”

We may have gone a little overboard with the bronzer on my face. I’m about forty shades darker than my natural skin tone.

Mac hands me three of her old dresses that were in the garment bag.

“Thanks, guys, I really appreciate it.”

“It was nothing.” Benny can’t take his eyes off my face. “And I really mean it was nothing. It’s surprisingly easy to break into your house. A key under the welcome mat? Pretty predictable.”

“Yeah, but who would want to break into our crap house?”

“Hey!” Mackenzie stands up to me. “That’s our home. It isn’t great, but it’s ours.”

I guess she’s right. Maybe I need to stop focusing on the family I lost, but finally embrace the family that I have.

Flaws and all.

Although if I’m willing to embrace things that I don’t like, I think it’s only fair that Mom does, too.

Miss Lauren puts the finishing touches on my eyes. “Okay, I think that’s it.” She steps back and looks me up and down. She begins to
shake her head. “Hon, I understand why you’re doing this, but please keep in mind that some of these girls are here on their own accord. True, some people take it too far and I’ve seen it tear families apart. But please know when you’re up there that the pageant circuit does some good.” She then bursts out laughing. “I don’t know why I’m trying to talk any sense into someone who looks like …” She stops herself and walks out the door.

Probably for the best. I’m aware of what I look like and what I’m about to do.

I look at the clock. I have less than forty-five minutes to get this outfit ready. I grab one of Mackenzie’s pink beauty dresses. I look at her. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”

She doesn’t hesitate for a second. “Yes. Do it.”

I tear the dress at the seam. I quickly divide the ruffled skirts and beaded tops from the three dresses. I ignore the fact it only takes minutes to destroy the hours of work it took to get these dresses perfect for Mackenzie.

I lay out my blue one-piece swimsuit and put together the deconstructed dresses like they’re pieces of a puzzle. My fingers work quickly, rearranging and sewing. I have to push my perfectionist tendencies aside as I work on this. I’m aware that the colors (hot pink, dark blue, and bright yellow) don’t go together. My seams are crooked; you can see the stitches holding together the beading work. But perfection isn’t the point. It’s pretty much the opposite of what we’re trying to accomplish today.

There are only a few minutes left before we have to head down for the lineup. I put the half-finished ensemble on and instruct Benny and Cam to pin, sew, and even glue the remaining pieces together.

Once they finish, they both stand back and look at me, and it’s clear they’re trying hard not to laugh.

Benny takes out his cell phone. “I’m sorry, but I so need to send Chris a photo of this. There’s no way he’s going to believe me when I tell him.”

“Take a picture and die. I don’t want any evidence.”

I turn around and face the full-length mirror for any last-minute adjustments. Between my real hair and Mac’s fall, my two-color ’do should have its own zip code. The skin tone of my face is practically orange and doesn’t match the rest of my body. My eyes are heavily outlined, so I look like a raccoon with two black eyes. My lips are big, red, and super shiny. And I’m wearing an adult version of a pageant dress for kids, complete with a multi-tiered (and colored) cupcake skirt, and a beaded top with organza ruffles on the sleeve.

My phone rings and Mac picks it up. “It’s Mom.”

I nod at her and she answers it. “Hey, Mama … Everything’s great! No need to come up — we’ll be down soon. I don’t want you to see me until I’m on stage.” I hold my breath. If Mac can’t get Mom to stay downstairs, all of this will be ruined. “My hair looks fine. It —” Mac scowls slightly. “Mama, I told you I look good. You’re making me mad, and if you keep this up I’m going to start crying and
you’ll ruin everything
!” Mac’s voice goes up a couple octaves and, I have to admit, I’m a
little scared of her myself. “Fine.” She hangs up the phone. “She’s staying downstairs.”

A wave of relief floods over me. Until I realize that now I have to be seen in public.

“Ready?” I say to Mackenzie.

She nods. “Thanks for doing this.”

“Come on, Agent M. We’ve got to somehow try to make me incognito until we make it safely backstage.”

We have a few close calls, but both Mackenzie and I arrive safely at the adjacent room where the contestants line up. Benny was able to hide me for most of the time, but now I’m out in the open.

And everybody’s staring at me.

Holli’s mom has a huge smile on her face, since it’s pretty clear Mac is not competing today.

“My goodness, Lexi, I wasn’t aware it’s Halloween,” she says with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Oh, really? Then why do you have your daughter dressed like a forty-year-old call girl?”

She glares at me and stomps away.

Mac starts to panic. “What if she gets Mom?”

“She’s not going to say anything to Mom.” At least I hope she isn’t. I figure that all the moms are going to stay quiet if they think I’m going to do something that’ll blow any chance of Mackenzie taking home a
crown today. And since Mac’s in jeans and a T-shirt without any makeup on, the possibilities of that happening are slim-to-none.

Cheryl, the head of the Little Miss Dallas contest, comes over to us. “You girls seem to be causing quite a scene. Miss Mackenzie, why aren’t you ready?”

Mac holds on to her pageant number. “I am.”

“You can’t go out looking like that.”

“Yes, I can. We paid the fees.” Mac moves a few feet closer to the steps leading to the stage as the first person in her age division starts her beauty routine.

Cheryl looks me over. “And what’s this?”

“Isn’t it great?” I twirl around. “I figured when at a pageant …”

“We have a certain standard at Little Miss Dallas, and we will not allow you to make fools out of us.”

“Believe me. I won’t be making a fool out of
you
.”

I think my appearance makes it clear that the only person who’s going to look idiotic today is me.

One by one, each contestant takes to the stage. We hear the emcee read the description of each girl, along with the polite applause from the audience and the catcalling from the parents.

We hear Mackenzie’s name and number announced. Cheryl’s glaring at both of us. I give her a smile before I step past Mackenzie and walk on stage.

There’s an audible gasp from the audience, who expects to see a
dolled-up seven-year-old. Instead, they see me. Or more appropriately, a clownish replica of me.

The emcee stumbles as she hesitates continuing with the script she has for Mackenzie. I take advantage of her moment of confusion to grab the microphone.

I see Mom sitting in the audience with a stunned look on her face.

“Hello, everybody,” I say into the microphone. I can hear scuttling to the side of the stage. I don’t have much time. “I know you weren’t expecting to see me, but I had a few things that I need to say, and hope you can please extend me your courtesy for a few moments.”

I feel my entire body start to shake. I’ve never been up on a stage before. It’s a little intimidating.

“I’ve spent the last few years coming to these pageants, and I know that there are some of you out there who enjoy participating. I know that there are some of you who get a lot of out this. But I also know that many of you parents force this on your children. That you’re making them live out some sort of fantasy for you. You shouldn’t force something on your kids if they aren’t happy. You should listen to your children and let them
be
kids.”

A few people start shouting at me to get off the stage.

“For years, none of you would even give me the time of day. But then I started to play dress-up and got your attention. My own mother never called me beautiful until a few weeks ago. And what’s sad was that I craved that kind of attention. Why? Because being pretty makes life
easier? Yeah, maybe in high school, but is this really the lesson we should be teaching people? What about having substance? What about having some kind of dream that doesn’t revolve around your looks, which we all know are fleeting?

“What about having fun and enjoying your childhood? Do you really think a two-year-old enjoys sitting in a makeup chair for an hour having fake eyelashes applied to her? Really? Have you asked them lately? And when did it become acceptable to drag a screaming child through a hotel lobby and force her on stage? I know that child endangerment laws are meant for more egregious acts against children, but I sometimes think those lines can be crossed at pageants.”

I see something out of the corner of my eye come dangerously close to my head. I think someone threw something at me. And now there’s a security officer at the side of the stage.

“But I guess I’m getting off topic, because what you decide to do with your family is your business.” I move across the stage so I’m directly in front of Mom; her face is crimson red. “Hi, Mom. Will you listen to me now that I’m up on your precious stage? Do I now matter to you because I’m dressed up like a beauty queen?”

She stands up and starts to walk over.

“Mackenzie doesn’t want to do pageants anymore. But you don’t listen. You never listen to us unless we’re saying something to please you. What kind of life is that for anybody? We’re your children. When do we get to lead our own lives? When do we get to make decisions for ourselves? It’s like we’re prisoners in our own home because you loom over
us. We have to do whatever it is that
you
want. You don’t care what
we
want. What makes
us
happy.”

Mom’s almost to the stage when she suddenly stops. I feel a hand on my leg and look down to find Mackenzie. She takes the microphone from me.

“Stop, Mama. Lexi’s telling the truth. I don’t want to do this anymore. I haven’t for a long time, but I didn’t think you’d love me unless I did it.”

I look out and see some of the mothers with their hands over their mouths or on their chests.

The heartbreaking moment is quickly interrupted as I feel my arm get yanked by a security guard. “Show’s over.” He pulls me offstage with a strong jerk. I stumble and fall off the small riser.

There’s some applause at my embarrassing, and a little painful, fall. However, a few people come to help me up, and I can hear Benny and Cam cheering for me at the back of the room. I recover and take Mackenzie’s hand.

“It’s okay, we’re going,” I say to the security guards, who clearly weren’t expecting any action at a beauty pageant.

We walk out of the room and feel every eye on us. Most of them are glaring at us with contempt. We’ve cast an imperfect shadow on their day. Or maybe we made a few of them think.

I feel another hand grab my arm hard.

I don’t have to look over to know who it is.

“You’re in so much trouble,” Mom hisses.

M
y right arm burns as Mom drags me through the hallway and into the women’s restroom.

“Please, Mama!” Mackenzie cries after us. “It was my idea. Don’t hurt Lexi!”

The safety pins and glue used to hold the top together start to tear away. It rips as Mom pushes me into an abandoned bathroom.

“That was some kind of stunt you pulled up there,” Mom growls at me. Her face is still bright red, and a bead of sweat is making its way down her cheekbone. “How dare you embarrass your sister like that! Trying to get all the attention on her special day.”

“Didn’t you hear anything we said?” I try to reason with her.

“You’re brainwashing your sister.”

Mackenzie pulls at Mom’s arm. “Mama, Lexi —”

“Enough!” she shouts at Mac.

Mac cowers at the sight of Mom. She runs over to me and buries her head into my stomach.

Mom’s eyes go up and down my outfit. Recognition slowly creeps on her face.

“You better pay me back for the dresses you ruined.”

I hold her gaze. “I guess we can take it from the money you owe me.”

I’ve never seen Mom this upset before. Not even when she hit me. I’m trying to be strong for Mac, but I’m terrified of what she’s going to do.

Then I see something that scares me more than the thought of her slapping me again. My mother starts to cry.

“I can’t believe you would do this to me,” she says softly. “You’ve ruined the most important thing in my life.”

A wave of guilt falls over me. I know I got carried away on the stage and said things that are best reserved for family members’ ears only. But I felt that this was the only way to get her to pay attention. I knew she had to take notice if we made a huge, public gesture. And while it was obvious the pageants meant so much to Mom, I didn’t think they were the only thing she had in her life that mattered to her.

Shouldn’t her children be the most important thing in her life?

Who am I kidding? I knew pageants were all that mattered to her. I assumed it was all about Mackenzie, but all along it was about her.

“Mom.” I reach out my hand to her. “I’m sorry you feel that way. But Mackenzie doesn’t want to do the pageants anymore, and you wouldn’t listen to her. We had to do something to make you listen. To make you understand that you may enjoy the pageants, but they’re tearing this family apart.”

“They certainly are not.” She jerks her hand away from me.

“Mom, they cost us thousands of dollars we don’t have, and have made both me and Mackenzie afraid of you. What exactly have you gotten out of the pageants?”

She stays silent.

“Maybe you should take the rest of the weekend off, go somewhere. I can stay with Mackenzie and maybe you can think about what’s important. Why you need these pageants. What void they fill for you. Maybe it’ll help you to get some sort of perspective on how things have gone so wrong.”

Mom glares at me. “How dare you give me a lecture? Like you haven’t been parading around trying to impress people with your outfits and makeup. What makes you so different from me or any of the people here?”

“It doesn’t,” I agree. “But I’ve learned from my mistakes. It took me falling on my face to see what really matters to me. And it isn’t looking pretty.”

She folds her arms. I can’t tell what she’s thinking. I don’t know if there’s anything I can say to get through to her.

“Where do you get off talking to me like that? I’m
your mother
.”

I feel my entire body start to shake. “Then start acting like it.”

Mom opens up her mouth, but a woman with a Little Miss Dallas badge interrupts us. “I thought I might find you in here. The committee would like to speak to you.”

Mom pushes past me without another word.

I fall down to my knees to comfort a hysterically crying Mackenzie. “It’s going to be okay.”

Cam comes into the room. “We saw your mom leave. Is everything okay?”

I shrug. “I don’t know if things will ever really be okay between us, but the truth is out. So it’s a start.”

“I thought you might want this.” Cam hands me my bag of regular clothes.

I quickly change out of my clothes and try to put my hair up in a ponytail, although it’s so ratted I think I may just have to chop it all off. It takes eight makeup wipes to return my skin to its natural shade.

We see Benny waiting outside for us. He gives me a big hug. “You did your best. You know that, right?”

I give him a weak smile. I did what I thought would help. Mom may be mad, but Mackenzie and I have never been closer.

I take her by the hand. “Let’s go home.”

She smiles up at me. “You know, I was always jealous of your friends and how much people like to be around you. Someday, I hope to be as funny and clever as you.”

Cam pats Mackenzie on the head. “I believe they call that a great personality.”

“I hope I get one of those someday.”

I squeeze her hand. “You do, Mac. You have a great personality.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Cam winks at me. “So it’s a good thing to have a great personality now?”

The doors of the hotel open up to a beautiful day awaiting us.

“It always has been. I was too blind to see it.”