When Joy came to clear the table, he grinned and slipped her a thick, folded set of bills. “Great job, sweetheart. Your recommendations were top-notch.”
Joy gave him a tight smile and slid the tip into her apron pocket. “Thank you, sir. See you later tonight for the kickoff event. I hope you all have a great day.”
Sana glared at Rob, then turned toward me. “It was great meeting you, Lila. Why don’t you stop by my yoga class later? The first week is free and I think it’d be good for you.”
Before I could reply, Joy said, “Are there student discounts? My friend Katie loves your classes and I’ve been thinking about joining. Just thinking about all the exams I have to take this year stresses me out, but I want to deal with it in a natural way.”
“My six o’clock class is open to all ages and levels, and I accept payments on a sliding scale, so we can talk about that.” Sana paused, choosing her next words carefully. “Yoga, and exercise in general, is wonderful for both physical and mental health, but I hope you know it’s not a cure-all. It’s just a way to help deal with the symptoms. If you—”
“Your class ends way before the potluck tonight, right? I don’t want one of our own judges showing up late to the event,” Valerie interrupted.
“I’m surprised you’re holding the event so soon. You only notified the contestants a few days ago,” I said. I was hoping for a bit of downtime today, but they were really throwing me into the deep end with this position. When I was a contestant, there were a few weeks between the announcement of who made it in and the kickoff event. I also remembered the pageant being a whole month long. Seemed like they were running behind on planning this year and trying to make up for it by packing everything into a shorter time frame.
“Everyone knows the pageant potluck is how we kick things off, so they should’ve planned for it if they were serious about competing. We start at seven p.m. sharp and I expect you to be there, Lila. As the newest judge and a former winner, I’m sure the girls are dying to meet you.” Valerie grinned, tenting her fingers. “I bet the moms are, too.”
A flashback to what my mother and Ninang June were like during my and Bernadette’s pageant days had me crossing myself and offering up a prayer: Heaven save me from Shady Palms’s scheming stage moms.
Chapter Four
Before I knew it, seven o’clock had rolled around and it was time for the annual “Getting to Know You” potluck for the contestants and their parents. Just like all those years ago, I entered the community center with huge trays of lumpiang shanghai and pancit—meat-filled fried spring rolls and stir-fried noodles—courtesy of Tita Rosie, and a small tray of Lola Flor’s cassava bibingka, a treat I’d carefully marked “gluten-free” for Valerie.
I dropped off the trays and went around the room greeting everyone I knew, then stopped short when I came across a group I’d been avoiding for months: the PTA Squad. Led by Mary Ann Randall, and the main reason I’d been avoiding church lately. They’d long been in competition with my family—or I should say, they saw my family as competition since we usually didn’t bother with them—for the good graces of Father Santiago. He was everyone’s priest, but he was also our family friend, and the PTA Squad hated that we had this personal link to him when they should’ve been the favored bunch. They had been only too happy to spread rumors about me when I got in trouble earlier in the year, and even though I had proven my innocence （which the aunties had rubbed in their faces）， I was in no mood to deal with their snide remarks. I’d planned on moving on after acknowledging their presence with a nod, but they moved as a pack, trapping me inside a circle of athleisure-clad moms.
“Lila!” Mary Ann squealed, the pleasure （and pitch） in her voice stunning me in place. “We haven’t seen you in so long. How have you been?” Without waiting for me to answer, she said, “How exciting that you’re going to judge this year’s Miss Teen Shady Palms Pageant!”
She lowered her voice as she said the name of the pageant, the title uttered with the reverence of a prayer. So there it was, the real reason she was so happy to see me, and with so little subtlety, too. Then again, with Mary Ann, there was rarely any subtext, just text. To be honest, that was something I appreciated about her. I liked knowing where I stood with people, and she’d always been very clear about that.
“What did you bring? It smells absolutely divine.” She made a big show of sniffing the air and clutching her hands to her chest in ecstasy.