Cheryl, at least according to her name tag, took the picture and studied it more than casually. “Your friend, huh?”
“Yeah, from back home in Colorado. She told me that I should look her up if I came through, that she’d be here.”
Cheryl thrust the picture back to me, though I noted she kept my card. “Sorry, I can’t help you.”
“If you see my friend, have her give me a call, okay?”
“Don’t know her,” Cheryl said as she turned on her heels and headed for the coffeepot. Bubba reached for the photo, then studied it before asking, “Who’s the bebe?”
“A missing woman from Summit View. She’s got a couple of kids who really miss her.”
“Does she want to be found?”
I shrugged. “I’d respect that if that’s the case. But I want to be sure she’s safe. Otherwise, I may have to start digging up the woods behind her trailer.”
“
Galee!
” Bubba looked in the direction the waitress had disappeared. “I think da waitress know your friend.”
I nodded. “You’ve got good instincts, Bubba. Are you in law enforcement too?”
Bubba laughed heartily. “No! My friends and I are full time in our Baton Rouge catering business. You could say I live to party.”
“I see.”
His eyes twinkled. “Speaking of parties, I would love to show you a good time, bebe. May I?”
I tried to play coy. “Let’s see how it goes.”
The waitress came back to pour our coffee. “Can I get you anything else?”
I stared at the menu then looked up. “I think I’d like to try one of your apple cider donuts.”
“Make that two,” Bubba agreed as he snapped his menu shut.
Within moments, Cheryl had plopped two large apple donuts, filled with chunky applesauce and smothered in whipped cream, in front of us.
I took a bite and said to Bubba, “This is good! Can you taste the maple in the whipped cream?”
Bubba nodded then blotted his lips with his napkin. “Not as good as my beignets, but then we’re not back home,” Bubba teased.
“Are bengays like donuts?”
“
Ben-yays
,” he said, stressing the pronunciation. “They’re better than donuts, fried till they puff. Then there’s nothing left but to sprinkle them with powdered sugar so they can melt in your mouth.
Oh la la
. Perfect served warm with chicory coffee.”
“I see you love your work too,” I teased. “Is that how you met Amy? You catered a party she attended?”
I couldn’t tell if Bubba looked surprised or confused. “Amy? Amy who?”
“Snyder. The word on the set is that you two are an item.”
“No, no, no. Who says this?”
“Everyone. They say you were seen kissing in a restaurant.”
“I have not been kissing the little assistant.” He chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows. “I would remember that.” Suddenly his eyes sparked. “But maybe my cousin … Boudreaux knows something. We look much alike, you know. He’d be easy to mistake.”
“You have family here?”
“Oh yes, like you.” He hesitated. “Are there other rumors I should know?” he asked as he took a large sip of coffee.
“Yes, I hear I’m pregnant with your child.”
Bubba spewed coffee over his donut before he tilted his head back in booming laughter. “And to think I missed the fun!”
I felt my face burn. “Ah, well, yeah.”
Still chuckling, he asked, “Is that it for the rumors?”
I took another sip of my coffee before I replied. “You mean besides the fact that the show is rigged?”
Bubba looked shocked. “No! You heard that too?”
I shrugged. “I did. That’s why I’m asking around to see if it could be true. I mean, why waste my time in New York City when I could be back in the High Country earning a paycheck?”
Bubba took my hand in his. “Be careful, bebe. I would hate if there was more than one person missing from Summit View.”
I pulled my hand away. “Is that a threat?”
“No, it’s just that I am afraid you are right. Team Batter Up may be on the inside track, I myself have suspected this is so. You must be very careful. In fact, I should tell you—”
Suddenly, the café door jingled as a mob seemed to burst inside.
Bubba and I turned and stared as a wild Faye Gage marched to our table, bringing with her Mike and his camera and what appeared to be a couple of reporters with flashing bulbs.
“There you are!” she shouted, her face red with too much rouge and fury. “I knew the rumors were true.”
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.
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.”