A Taste of Fame

by Linda Evans Shepherd

  Bubba did nothing to protest our innocence. He blurted, “How did you find us?”

  Faye crossed her arms over her “I Love NY” T-shirt, which she wore over jeans. “I’ve had a detective trailing Donna. When he called and told me what was going on here tonight, I thought it was only fair to expose you both.”

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I’m trying to prove to my son what kind of girl you really are.”

  “But Wade already knows—”

  “Is it true you’re carrying Bubba’s child?”

  “No! I never …” I turned to look to Bubba for help. But somehow, in all the confusion, he’d disappeared, leaving me to face this wild woman and her band of paparazzi alone.

  Well, if that wasn’t the limit.

  I pursed my lips and turned back to my accuser as I slapped a twenty on the table. I stood and pushed through the circus as I headed for the door. Only then did I turn around. “Listen, Faye, you need to get a life and you need to stop messing with mine. And you need to stop calling me and hanging up while you’re at it.”

  “Then just let me hear you say you are through messing with my son.”

  I turned on my heels, pushed through the door, and hailed a cab. As the cab drove me through the streets of New York, all I can say is Team Potluck was lucky I didn’t head for JFK.

  Vonnie

  26

  Knock-Out Punch

  The phone rang early Tuesday morning, and Fred answered. After a pause, he asked, “Donna, are you okay?”

  I sat up in bed as Fred listened to her response and said, “I see. We’d better have a look.”

  By the time Fred hung up, I’d kicked off the covers and was already in my blue floppy slippers with my matching housecoat. “What’s happened?”

  “Apparently Donna ended up front and center on some grocery market tabloid. She’s on her way up to our room now to show us a copy.”

  “Oh, dear!”

  By the time Donna tapped on the door, our coffeepot was brewing our first cups of the morning. When Fred let Donna in, she stormed inside, clutching the gossip rag. “Look at this!” she practically squealed as she waved it in my face.

  “Let me see,” I said as she handed it to me. I laid the crumpled copy on the desk then smoothed out the wrinkles with my hands. We leaned over the paper, and Fred let out a low whistle. There, in living color, were the shocked faces of Donna and Bubba with a headline that read, “Deputy Donna Pregnant with Wild Canjun’s Baby?”

  “Can you believe it?” Donna said, pacing the floor.

  “Why don’t you sit down, Donna,” I said, beckoning to the desk chair, “and tell us what happened.”

  Donna folded her arms across her black T-shirt, tennis-shoed feet planted apart as she hissed, “Faye Gage, that’s what.”

  “Faye? I don’t understand.”

  “She hired a detective to trail me so she could prove to her little Wade that I was nothing more than the tramp she always thought I was.”

  I ran to Donna and wrapped her in my arms. “Oh, dear! What does Wade have to say about all this?”

  She accepted my embrace then pulled away so she could pace. “He probably hasn’t seen this yet, but if I know him, he’ll put his tail between his legs and pretend this never happened.”

  She sat down on the edge of the bed and put her face in her hands.

  I sat down next to her. “You still care about Wade, don’t you?”

  Donna shrugged. “I didn’t come here to talk about my love life.”

  “Then there’s something else?”

  She dug her elbows into her jeans, then peeked above her spread fingers. “The tabloids weren’t the only ones to get this shot. So did Mike.”

  “Oh no!”

  “This is going out into thirty-five million households tonight, all for the sake of ratings. The commercials featuring Bubba and me ‘caught in the act’ have already started to play.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “There doesn’t appear to be anything we can do to stop this.”

  Fred, who had been standing by the window with his arms folded over his blue-striped robe, said, “This is outrageous.”

  Donna looked up. “The way I see it, Team Potluck has been put into an impossible situation. It’s like we’re all being held hostage here in New York while the producers play games for ratings, all at our expense.”

  “Speaking of games, do you still think the show might be rigged?”

  Donna held up her hands in an exaggerated shrug. “Who knows? I did mention ‘the rumor’ to Bubba, and he didn’t really deny it, though he tried to shift suspicion to Team Batter Up. He was about to tell me something important when Faye interrupted our meeting.”

  Donna’s cell phone rang, and she looked at the caller ID.

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “Wade. He must have just heard the news.”

  “Aren’t you going to pick up the call?”

  Donna put the phone back in her pocket. “Nope.”

  Fred said, “I’ll go have a talk with Faye and Wade after breakfast. I’ll strongly suggest it’s time Faye went home.”

  Donna looked relieved. “Would you? That would be great. I’d ask Dad to try his hand, but he seems to have his head in the clouds, likes he’s on some sort of second honeymoon with Evie.” She turned to the window and looked out. “If I could just get through this show without any more of Faye’s shenanigans, then, well … maybe we won’t win a million dollars, but at least I won’t lose my mind.”

  A few hours later, Fred met with Wade and Faye, but according to him, the meeting had gone nowhere. “That woman is impossible. The way she carried on, then cussed me out … well, no wonder Wade ended up with a drinking problem.”

  “Didn’t Wade try to stop her tirade?” I asked.

  “Well, he repeatedly asked her to calm down, but that had no effect. It appears to me that woman’s going to ruin that boy’s life.”

  “Fred, Wade’s thirty-two, he’s hardly a boy.”

  “Then it may already be too late.”

  Later that afternoon, there was no joy in the limo that drove our team, dressed in our “Go Team Potluck” tees, to the studio for a stint in hair and makeup. Fortunately the rest of our family members were to arrive by taxi later, so they could join the studio audience, though the report was Faye would stay at the hotel, as she had another one of her headaches.

  On the way over, Wade cleared his throat and leaned toward Donna. “Hey, will you forgive me for what my mother put you through?”

  Donna wouldn’t look at him. “Wade, until you stand up to your mom, don’t expect any forgiveness from me.”

  David put a protective arm around her, then addressed Wade. “Just lay off, Gage.”

  Once the live show started, we sat with the other contestants in the audience as the clip of Faye’s angry attack on Donna and Bubba ran on the JumboTron. I have to admit, even though I knew what to expect, I was shocked. Faye’s outburst as well as the clip of Bubba, who said, “Cho! Co! That lady was half crazy. Here’s what really happen. The deputy bebe and I were only swapping recipes. That Donna say she wants to know how to make my gumbo, so I tell her. But trust me, my gumbo is hot hot, but it never make anyone pregnant. So, if the deputy is playing madame, it’s not with me.”

  The crowd laughed, and the screen showed a prerecorded message from Donna saying, “This ugly rumor is not only false, it’s hurtful. That’s all I have to say.”

  I caught myself stealing a glance at Wade, who slouched in his chair. He was the perfect picture of misery. I only hoped this episode didn’t turn him to trade his sobriety for a drink at the hotel bar later tonight.

  The rest of the show seemed like a blur as clips showed our team shimmering down the runway in movie-styled gowns before hosting a sit-down dinner for our guests. Next, Team Tex Mex twirled their way into a live fashion show with plates of stuffed jalapeños and tamale balls that they served as they walked off
the runway and into the audience. Then the Wild Cajun Cooks served oysters Rockefeller, barbecued shrimp, and homemade pralines while dressed in short T-shirts that said “Vote Wild! Vote Often!” while showing off their hairy bellies, much to their designer’s chagrin. Team Batter Up, dressed like the New York Yankees, personally escorted each model and guest to a pasta buffet with large vats and varieties of pastas, meatballs, and an assortment of sauces and salads.

  When the voting opened, we got word that we were dismissed with an order by Kat to return to the studio at nine a.m. sharp for the reveal.

  But it was a pretty sad bunch that climbed back into our limo to return to our hotel.

  “How do you think we did?” I asked whoever would answer.

  Wade said, “What does it matter? We were humiliated. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

  Even Nelson agreed. “If this show is rigged, I need to get back to school. My fall semester is about to start.”

  “I’ve enjoyed my time here with Vernon,” Evie said, “but I hate what this is doing to us as a team.”

  By George, she’s right. “There’s only one thing to do,” I said. “We’ve got to pray … together.”

  Everyone nodded, and we bowed our heads. I kicked off our prayer time with a prayer based on one of my favorite psalms, Psalm 143. “Dear Lord, let the morning bring us word of your unfailing love, for we have put our trust in you. Show us the way we should go—”

  “Home,” Donna interrupted.

  With a raised brow I continued, “For to you we lift up our souls. Rescue us from our enemies, O Lord, for we hide ourselves in you. Teach us to do your will—”

  “Even if we stay in New York,” Lisa Leann said.

  “For you are our God; may your good Spirit lead us on level ground.”

  Everyone else prayed too, for protection, blessing, favor, that the truth be revealed, and so forth, until it was Wade’s turn. He simply said, “Lord, my family and I have wronged my team. I’m so sorry for what’s happened. Help us all come back together in the spirit of love. Give me the strength to face my mother and to send her home. I need you now more than ever.”

  I could hear Donna sniffing. She prayed next, “Help me to forgive and give me compassion.”

  David said, “Protect us from hurts and betrayals.”

  Evie added her “amen” just as we arrived at the hotel. We all exited the van, a bit teary eyed but with hearts that had been renewed and strengthened. As we entered the elevator together, Lisa Leann said, “Courage, everyone. If we get through this round tomorrow like I think we will, I have an idea about our next challenge.”

  “But you don’t even know what that challenge will be,” Lizzie said.

  “Don’t I? If the past shows are any indication, I’d say it was time for the celebrity cocktail party.”

  “With alcohol?” I asked.

  “We’re changing the rules,” Lisa Leann said. “From now on, the game belongs to us. We’ll serve whatever we feel like serving.”

  The next morning back at the studio, it was exactly as Lisa Leann had predicted. After Gianne completed her elimination theatrics, Team Tex Mex said adios. That left Team Potluck, the Wild Cajun Cooks, and Team Batter Up to face off in the semifinals.

  Gianne stood before us, looking gorgeous. She was wearing a yellow chiffon halter dress dotted with an occasional large rose. Her ropes of blonde curls swept over her bare, tanned shoulders. “Now, for the challenge you’ve all been waiting for. You will each be hosting your own celebrity cocktail party. Each team will have four thousand dollars and a room full of celebrity guests to pamper with a special theme, food, and entertainment. It’s time to put your best spoon forward, caterers. When the parties are over, we’ll see which two teams will be left to compete for our million dollar prize.”

  Gianne then dismissed us to gather in our war rooms. But even with our entourage filming our every move, I noticed there was a new excitement in the air. I leaned over to Wade. “Did you have a talk with your mother?”

  “She’s promised to leave for Denver.”

  Donna touched his arm. “Really? When?”

  Wade glanced at David, who was listening. “I’d like to tell you more, but not now. Let’s try to find a quiet place to talk later, okay?”

  Donna nodded, relief relaxing her pretty face.

  We sat down at our table and listened as Lisa Leann announced, “I have an idea that will make you go bananas.”

  “Then we’re doing a luau theme?” Evie guessed.

  Lisa Leann giggled. “Nope, we’re taking direction from yet another movie based in New York.”

  We all leaned forward in anticipation as I asked, “Which one?”

  Lisa Leann giggled. “The 1933 version of King Kong.” She winked as we collectively gasped. “We’re going to use props to simulate the top of the Empire State Building, we’re renting gorilla suits, and we’re serving everything ‘banana style.’ ”

  “You mean like banana daiquiris?” I asked.

  “Absolutely not, well, unless they’re ‘virgin.’ We’re not wasting our money on alcohol; we’re going to show our celebrities they can have a good time without it, like us church folk do at our own potlucks back home.”

  David cleared his throat. “Hmm. I know a lot of celebrity types. They may not, let’s say, get the punch line.”

  Lisa Leann laughed and wrote “banana punch” on the white board.

  “Are you sure about this?” Lizzie asked. “I mean, I support you, we all do, but are you sure?”

  Lisa Leann turned and faced us, her hands on her thin little hips, which sported the lace edge of her red top over a denim skirt. Her brown cowboy boots completed the package. “Let’s just go out there and have some fun. Besides, what do we have to lose?”

  Goldi

  27

  Going Bananas

  Before we left the war room, Kat came with clipboard in hand and Amy at her side to announce our event would be held on Sunday.

  “Sunday?” Lizzie said. “That’s God’s day. Considering we’ve made a stand as to our faith, I think it would be wrong of us to work on Sunday.”

  Amy cast a wry grin as Kat looked down at her clipboard, flipped a few pages, and said, “Some people would argue that with you, you know.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  Kat looked directly at me. “It means, Goldie, that there is a theological debate as to when the ‘Lord’s Day’ is.” She managed to use the index finger of her right hand to place quote marks in the air.

  “I realize that,” I said. “But the point is, Sunday is when we celebrate the Lord’s Day and—”

  Before I could finish, Amy cut in. She glared at Lisa Leann and Evie, who just happened to be standing shoulder to shoulder. “If I remember correctly, weren’t the two of you here on a Sunday before the rest of the crew arrived?”

  Lisa Leann pinked, and Evangeline muttered, “I told you we should have been in church.” Then to Amy, “That was a slight error in judgment.”

  I cocked my head. “Wait a minute. How did you know what Lisa Leann and Evangeline were doing before the rest of us got here?” Working for an attorney was paying off in my “think ahead” tactics.

  This time Amy pinked, but only for the briefest of moments. “That’s my job,” she said.

  Kat, I noticed, looked perplexed. She cleared her throat. “Okay, Team Potluck. Here’s what we’ll do. I had you down for a cocktail party/political fund-raiser hosted by George Clooney, but I’ll trade Team Batter Up’s event, which is scheduled on Saturday, and give you theirs.”

  She pulled a mechanical pencil from behind her ear and began jotting notes.

  Personally, Sunday or not, I was relieved not to be involved with anything political. Daddy always said, “Never argue religion or politics, Goldie.” So, make that one for Team Potluck.

  Though, to be honest, the win was bittersweet. I wouldn’t have minded mingling with George Clooney.

 
I thought of my husband and sighed. I love Jack, but George Clooney he’s not.

  Not catering the political event, of course, led to the next question …

  “So, what will we be catering?” Lisa Leann asked.

  Kat looked up from her note-jotting and said, “An event to raise funds for the Prevent Cancer Foundation.”

  We all smiled. “That speaks to all of us,” Vonnie said. “We lost our pastor’s wife last year to cancer.”

  “Who are we working with?” David asked. Mr. Hollywood would think of such a question.

  Kat smiled. “Probably some folks you know, Mr. Harris. David Zayas and Katie Couric, to name a couple.”

  “Anyone else?” Lisa Leann probed.

  “Oh yes. Lance Armstrong, Eva Longoria, and Scarlett Johansson.”

  “Scarlett Johansson?” Vonnie exclaimed. “I loved her in The Horse Whisperer.”

  “Love her or not,” Kat said, “you now have one less day to get your act together and cater this event. You’ll be contacted by a man named London Goodman, who is the overseer of the event, probably first thing in the morning.” She looked around the room. “Okay. Any questions?”

  We all shook our heads no.

  “Oh, one more thing,” Kat said. “This is a dessert-only affair.”

  “Of course,” David said with a nod.

  Kat and Amy turned on their heels and left the room, leaving us to gape at one another. Finally Lisa Leann said, “Well, girls and boys, back to work.”

  We—all of us but Faye Gage, who Wade had ordered to stay in her room—went out for a late dinner that evening. It was there our men announced they’d be leaving the next afternoon for Summit View.

  I’m not sure who looked more shocked of the five of us with spouses, but I have to admit Lisa Leann looked the most despairing.

  “I’ve got to get back to the sheriff’s office,” Vernon was saying. “With both Donna and me out of the county, who knows what might be going on.”

  Donna nodded in her father’s direction. “We’ve got some good deputies—I mean, other than me—but Dad’s right. He can’t stay gone forever. It’s kinda like leaving Barney alone in Mayberry for too long and expecting anything less than pandemonium.”