Catch a Falling Star (12 page)

Justine peered through a crack in the velvet curtain. Starlight High’s Hattie Hempstead Auditorium brimmed with people, here for the annual Miss Starlight pageant, held the last Friday evening in July. She smiled at the irony.

She’d once made fun of the girls who vied for the title. Not the youngest girls, competing at the preschool and elementary levels for the titles of Little Miss Starlight, but the high school girls age fifteen and up.

Who wanted to compete for a tacky crown that would turn dull and a satin sash that would turn to shreds? Who wanted a five-hundred-dollar scholarship when you couldn’t use it right away? The other prizes were cool, but way back in the old days, Justine had higher hopes. Starlight was too small for her.

Yet here she was, ready to evaluate tonight’s young hopefuls. Rumor had it one of the girls had gotten sick in the bathroom when she heard
the
Justine Campbell was one of the judges.

Gertrude Jenkins, head of the Starlight Chamber of Commerce, stood beside her. “Oh,
Justeeeeen
, it’s so
goot
that you agreed to be a judge tonight. I’m glad that
Tamareend
asked you.” Gertrude, like Chin-Mae at the nail salon, had met her husband when he was stationed in Germany. Her accent was still thick, but evidently she’d embraced her adopted country during her years in Starlight.

“I’m happy to give back, Mrs. Jenkins.”

“Please, it’s Troody. Call me Troody.” She pulled on the cuffs of her blouse. “I sure hope there are no angry parents tonight. Evvverybody wants her daughter to win. But there can only be one winner in each category.”

The third judge was an Austin area real estate agent who’d once been a runner-up in the Miss Texas pageant.

“Ladies, it’s show time,” said Gertrude. She pushed through the crack in the curtain, and applause greeted her.

The real estate agent gave Justine a cool nod. Whatever. Justine had encountered her kind before, and the woman's attitude wasn’t going to ruin her evening.

“So is it true?” the woman whispered.

“Is what true?”

“You’ve had eight plastic surgeries?” The woman looked intently at her face.

“Don’t believe everything you read.” Justine smiled at her as the curtain opened in front of them. “I’m 100 percent original. No plastic here. Or anywhere.”

A wave of applause rippled through the auditorium, along with a few whistles, as the two of them stepped forward and waved to the group. Gertrude made her introductions then took the steps on one side of the stage and headed for their seats at a table facing the stage. Good thing that Gertrude woman would sit in the middle. Justine didn’t feel like dealing with more barbs. She didn’t understand people who thought they knew her by reading something in the news.

The night turned into a blur of girls of gradually increasing ages who sang, baton twirled, and played piano, guitar, or any series of instruments. When the high school competition began, Justine noticed the talent listed beside Maddie Tucker's name on the scoring card. Her talent selection was juggling. Juggling?

Starlight’s young ladies had no shortage of talent, and Maddie amazed them all with her juggling skills.

Then came the evening gown and interview, where the teenagers were questioned about current issues and their community service projects.

Maddie came out, looking like a young Audrey Hepburn with an updo, and wearing a white dress with a sky-blue sash. The A-line skirt flattered her small waist.

“My community service project is helping my brother with our soldiers’ ranch, called Hopeful Acres,” said Maddie. “So far we only have one cottage finished, but I designed the inside. What we do is invite families to stay at our cottage for a free weekend. We have games and activities that they can do as a family. I have the greatest mom and dad, and I wish they were here. When my brother was hurt in Iraq, we all helped him get better. We want to help soldiers and their families get better too. One day, we’d like to have more and more cottages.” Maddie bobbed her head. “Thank you. Oh, and one day I plan to go to UT Austin and study pre-med—Hook ’em, Horns!” She made the UT hand gesture with index finger and pinky raised, her thumb tucked over her lowered fingers.

Applause followed her to the end of the stage, where the other girls stood.

Justine did her best not to leap to her feet and applaud. Maddie’s voice had shaken a few times, and her posture could have been better, but not bad at all for a fifteen-year-old. Not bad at all.

This created a dilemma in scoring. Maddie was Justine’s sentimental favorite. Her love for her family oozed with every word. Of course, she was a stunning young woman with an updo and classic style. Justine had witnessed Maddie’s selfless nature, something surprising in a teenager, when many of them were almost completely self-absorbed.

But there were two other judges as well, and maybe they had their personal favorites, too. Plus, she had to consider the matter of the scholarship. Five hundred dollars would definitely help a college-bound young woman.

Gertrude, Justine, and the Austin’s real estate agent handed their cards to the tabulators. Small-town brawls threatened over tinier matters than a pageant for teenage girls. Good thing that Gertrude had called in a definite outsider from Austin, so no one could accuse either Justine or Gertrude of “throwing” the votes in judging.

As Justine passed her card to the counting committee member, she scanned the audience over her shoulder. There was Billy, and Jake, too, seated in the same aisle with Azalea, who’d somehow dragged Herb out of the house to attend. She wished Billy would look at her. Since they'd been driving themselves to physical therapy and after the welcome home at Fort Hood, she hadn't really spoken to him besides a quick hello at church on Sundays.

“Go, Maddie!” Jake called out through his cupped hands, and several other audience members started cheering for their favorite contestant. Justine locked eyes with Billy, who shot her a grin that she felt all the way to the tips of her freshly manicured toes. Much better.

Another person caught Justine’s attention. Mom. It shouldn’t surprise her. Mom had probably done several of the hairdos for tonight’s event, and she would likely hand out her business cards like sticks of gum to everyone, whether they wanted a card or not.

The next face Justine saw made her freeze. A woman, probably about her mother’s age, was staring directly at her. The look sent splinters of ice down her spine. Did she know this woman? She didn’t recall seeing her anywhere in town. But then, she hadn’t ventured out much on her own other than a few trips with the car to build up her driving confidence.

Justine turned back to face the auditorium’s stage as the spotlight focused on the head judge, who took the stage. She recognized the man as Mayor Potts. The contestants in their evening gowns stood in a neat row behind him.

Maddie won second runner-up. She smiled, but Justine saw the wilted expression in her eyes. She’d definitely speak to her as soon as she could.

While congratulations flowed around the winner, Maddie stepped down the stairs from the stage to the main floor. Justine met her by the steps.

“I. . . I didn’t win.” Maddie spoke the words to the bouquet of pink roses she held.

“That’s okay. You did really, really well.”

“But I tried so hard. Jake and Billy were counting on it.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself.” Justine gave Maddie a hug. “I can’t tell you how many times I missed out on a role, and I was sure I had the part. This is just one pageant. There are so many other things that you do well—so much ahead of you, too.”

“Thanks.” She brightened at Justine's words. “Do you like my hair?”

“Love it. You look like a young Audrey Hepburn.”

A blush crept into Maddie's cheeks. “Your mom did it for me.”

“Well, she did a beautiful job.”

“See you later.” Maddie waved and headed toward her brothers.

Justine’s mother headed in her direction, waving. She braced herself.

“Sweetie,” Mom said as she wrapped Justine in hug. “I am so happy how you’ve gotten involved in the community.”

“I figured it was important to do what I could.”

Her mother glanced around before speaking. “Listen, I realize that I’ve been hard on you. Too hard, probably.”

“Maybe, sometimes,” Justine admitted. “But then, you were right about some of the things you said about me. I haven’t always acted in a way that you’d be proud of. I’m. .  . I’m sorry.”

“Listen,” Mom said. “I’ve seen mothers and daughters who never get along for the silliest reasons. But you and I, we’re all the other has left. And I, well, I can’t go around acting like you don’t exist, or we’re nothing to each other.”

The crowd circulated around them in the aisle. Justine stepped closer to the wall, and her mother did so too. “I agree. And I’m glad you think that. Because it’s been really hard without you. I still want you to be glad you’re my mom.”

Her mother gave her a crushing hug this time. “I am. I truly am.”

“Well, I guess this means we’re on for Thanksgiving, then?”

“You can count on it.” Mom squeezed her hand before she left. “See you soon.”

A reunion with her mother. Justine didn’t know what happened. Maybe Mom was making a ploy to show everyone that
the
Justine Campbell was her daughter. She’d never tried to use her name as clout before. Justine decided not to question her mother’s motives but accept them and go from there, if cautiously. Because one thing she’d learned, the hard way, is that you never could tell when a friendly smile masked an enemy in disguise.

Justine turned and almost collided with the woman who’d slung ice daggers with her eyes across the auditorium.

“I heard you were in town. And now, showing your face here.” The woman’s skin, free of makeup, looked pale in the bright house lighting of the auditorium. The fine lines around her eyes, seen up close, made Justine guess her age closer to sixty than fifty.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean. Is there something I can help you with?”

“You can help by leaving this town alone. Our young people don’t need to follow your sinful preoccupation with image and appearances to poison them. Life is more than raiment and hairstyle.” The woman practically snarled as she spoke. “You’re
not
an example of how someone ought to lead their life. Especially our young women. Making themselves look like harlots while their souls are in danger of hellfire.”

Justine had heard people like this before. E-mails to her agent, letters in the mail. Even a few who would scream similar sentiments if they saw her on the street. She took a deep breath.

“You’re partly right. I haven’t made the best decisions sometimes, and if I had a daughter, I don’t think I’d approve either. But I see nothing wrong in being here to encourage young women to take care of themselves and learn healthy confidence. Making a little effort to look your best doesn’t have to mean someone is obsessed with looks, either.” She stood her ground, but her knees started to quiver. She gripped the back of the seat closest to her.

“I’ll. . . I’ll pray for you,” the woman said.

“Don’t bother. God might just answer your prayer to save my soul, and then you’d have to truly care about me, not just give me a tongue-lashing to prove a point and make yourself feel better.” Justine didn’t smile and didn’t blink. The woman gasped and walked away.

Great. She waited for the lightning to strike and make a skylight in the auditorium roof. She needed air, and she needed it now.

Gertrude approached and tugged on Justine’s arm. “Thank you for helping tonight. I know people are happy that you’re here.”

Right. Not everyone. “You’re welcome. I enjoyed it very much. Thank you for inviting me to be a judge.” She gave her best smile to Gertrude before finding her purse and making a graceful exit from the auditorium. She wished she'd brought her cane tonight.

#             

Billy saw a woman talking to Justine. He could also see the look on Justine’s face as the woman continued a stream of speech, gesturing with her hands.

“Aunt Zalea, who’s that lady talking to Justine?”

“Oh, dear.” Aunt Zalea shook her head. “That’s May Swanson. She’s probably not saying much good to our Justine. I’ll have to run damage control, for sure. Or someone will.”

“Damage control. Why?”

“
You
don’t have to listen her go on and on at ladies’ Bible study every week, otherwise you’d know exactly what I’m talking about.” She glanced at the roof. “Okay, Lord, sorry. I’ll hush up before I drift into gossiping.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound good.”

Justine snatched up her purse, said a few things to the German lady who ran the Starlight Chamber of Commerce, then practically bolted from the auditorium.

“No, it’s not good.” Aunt Zalea nodded in the direction of the exit door. “Go, go after her. She needs mercy more than judgment, Billy.”

“I’ll remember that.” He turned to Jake. “I’ll meet y’all back at the house after a while.”