The Red-Hot Chili Cook-Off Read Online Free PDF Page A

“That was Beulah from across the street. She ran over to Miss Clawdy’s and brought us a dozen pecan tarts. Said that she’d heard the bad news and would be praying that me and Lenny could work things out. Don’t you even roll your eyes at the ceiling Alma Grace! She said that she hoped that the tarts would help us get through the morning.”
    â€œBad news travels fast,” Josie said.
    â€œFat chance of working it out,” Patrice said. “Lenny Joe has treated you horrible, Carlene. It’s over.”
    Alma Grace reached for a tart. “You had these at your wedding. All arranged on a silver platter on the groom’s table. You want one? Remember all the good times, Carlene. God wants you to forgive Lenny.”
    â€œI’d rather lick the white tops off of chicken shit.” Carlene marched out of the room before she had another emotional outbreak just thinking about her wedding day.

Chapter 2
    The Fannin sisters, Gigi, Tansy, and Sugar, arrived in force at Bless My Bloomers at ten minutes until twelve. Gigi was the oldest at fifty-eight and she didn’t mind carrying the responsibility of being the firstborn. But her exact year of birth was only known to a choice few and she’d promised to cut their tongues out if they ever told a soul, living or dead. Her champagne-blond hair was swept up into a high Texas style twist, and her pecan-colored eyes were not glittering with happiness that morning.
    Taking the trash out without her high heels was right up there next to coveting her neighbor’s ass in the list of sinful abominations and that day she wore black three-inch spikes with gold touches on the toes. They looked good with her skinny jeans, a western-cut shirt with pearl snaps, loop earrings with diamond Texas Longhorns dangling from the ends, a gold wide-cuff bracelet with a big Longhorn in diamonds on her right arm, and a watch that matched it on the other wrist.
    Tansy was the middle sister and the shortest of the three. Her thick medium-beige hair, according to the box that Stella used down at the Yellow Rose, rested in bouncy natural curls on her shoulders. She fancied herself a bit of a psychic and said that God had given her brown eyes so she could see into the future. She looked like she could pull a crystal ball from her oversized purse or maybe a deck of tarot cards from her flowing tiered skirt with bright blue peacocks scattered over an orange background. The matching orange T-shirt, a lime green stretchy belt with a multicolored stone buckle, and hot-pink high heels did not tone down her outfit one bit.
    Sugar had pulled her hair back with a bright red scarf and let the ends hang over her shoulder. Her slim skirt was red, her button-up blouse pure white with red buttons, and her high heels were black. She wore a quadruple strand of pearls that had belonged to her mother and a pearl and diamond tennis bracelet.
    â€œDear Lord,” Patrice muttered when they paraded into the store.
    â€œYou can’t pray either, especially after coming here with a hangover this morning,” Carlene hissed.
    â€œMary Carlene Carmichael Lovelle, why didn’t you call me first thing when you found out?” Gigi did not beat around the bush.
    Carlene had never even heard all four of her names strung together.
    â€œHave you talked to Lenny?” she asked.
    Alma Grace poked her head out into the foyer where the women had stopped. “Did you go buy a car this morning?”
    Tansy poked a finger toward Carlene. “Hell, no, we didn’t talk to Lenny or buy a car from that bastard. If you will remember, young lady, I told you I had a premonition about that boy before you married him. Everyone in Grayson County knew that he was a womanizer just like his daddy. So you can’t say you weren’t warned.”
    â€œYes, ma’am, you did.” Carlene nodded. “I should have listened.”
    â€œNone of this is her fault.” Patrice