Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
“Becoming a Rockette was a great honor.
Staying a Rockette was a whole other thing.”
—excerpt from the unpublished memoir,
Darling, I Must Say by Gloria Hayes
“So that was fun,” I said the second we got back to the car. From my purse, I pulled out three cream puffs and a chocolate éclair. After my little talk with Megan, I hadn’t felt a lick of guilt for clearing out the food offerings.
Hallie shrugged and took the cream puffs I offered her. “It was okay.”
“Did you get to know the kids better?” Please say she had a better time than me. I bit into the éclair and held back a moan. Megan might be the worst, but she didn’t skimp on catering.
“Kind of.” She stuffed a cream puff in her mouth and stared out the window.
“What’s going on?” I popped the rest of the éclair in my mouth.
Her gaze turned to me and blurted, “Everyone is doing it.”
“Good for them. It sounds like a nightmare.”
“I can’t do it anyway.”
“Who said that?”
“Audrina.” Oh, like stepmother, like stepdaughter. The holidays must be so fun at that house.
“Audrina is, like, nine. She probably can’t even spell pageant. What does she know?”
“But she does know. She’s done pageants since she was baby and she showed me all her trophies. They were all on a big shelf and there was a space right in the middle and she said that’s where she was going to put the Little Miss Two Harts trophy when she wins it.”
“That doesn’t mean she’ll win.”
“I guess,” she said in a quiet voice.
“It feels like something else is bothering you.” I turned so I could see her. “What’s going on? Did the girls say something to you?”
Hallie nodded, not meeting my eye.
“What did they say?” I tried to keep my voice gentle, but inside, I was kicking myself for not going with my instinct to push those girls in the pool when I had the chance.
“They said I couldn’t be in the pageant because I wasn’t even from Two Harts and”—her voice caught—“plus she said I was probably too fat.”
“I’m sorry, what?” It was true that Hallie wasn’t one of those kids who was all long limbs, knobby knees and sharp elbows; she was short and round with full cheeks made for pinching. I was a lot like that at her age, too.
Her bottom lip trembled and my heart squeezed. “Audrina said I was too fat to fit in any of the good dresses.”
“Okay. Wow.” Deep breath. “You know she’s wrong, don’t you?”
“I guess.”
“Hallie, I understand that’s not fun to hear.
It’s okay to be sad or upset about it,” I said firmly.
“But also know that the most beautiful parts of a person are on the inside. You are kind and thoughtful and smart and funny and Audrina can go…” I paused to think of something kid-appropriate. “…suck on a lemon.”
Hallie giggled.
“Bodies come in all different shapes and sizes. Look at me. I’m tall and curvy. Some people would even call me fat, but you know what my niece says?”
“What?”
“She says I’m squishy and good for snuggling. She likes that about me.” I paused and tried to calm myself down. “You know what else? I bet Audrina doesn’t want you to enter that pageant.”
“Why?”
“Because she knows you could beat her. That’s exactly what it is. She’s scared of you. That’s what mean people are—scared. They’re mean because they need to make someone else feel worse than they do.”
Her nose scrunched. “You think so? She didn’t seem scared of me.”
“Some people have a funny way of showing they’re afraid.” I knew that because I was one of those people.
“Do you think I could enter the pageant?”
“Pffsht. Of course you could. We could both enter it. But we don’t have to prove anything to anyone. We’re awesome already.”
“Yeah. We don’t need to prove anything.”
“Exactly.” I pulled away and headed home, proud of myself for handling that situation perfectly. Look at me being naturally maternal. Maybe my future kids would turn out better than I thought.
“Iris,” Hallie said two minutes later. “Thanks for being my friend.”