Page 76 of The Accidental Beauty Queen
An eerie calm washes over me. It doesn’t matter what’s written on that slip of paper. Ginny lives for this kind of thing. She’ll answer her question with eloquence and grace. If she can defendFifty Shades of Greyas a piece of high literature, she can do anything. And I know better than anyone just how adept she is at the art of persuasion. I still have the spray tan and blisters on my feet to prove it.
The emcee unfolds the piece of paper. “Are you ready, Miss Texas?”
Ginny flashes her best beauty queen smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Very good. Once I’ve read your question, you’ll have two minutes to answer.” The emcee clears her throat. “Here’s your question: What family member has had the biggest influence on your life and why?”
Perfect.
I know exactly what Ginny’s response will be. In fact, I’ve heard her practice answer for this very question, and it’s quite moving.
She’s going to talk about our mother. She’s going to mention our mother’s illness and the effect her death had on Ginny’s life when she was a little girl, and then she’ll conclude by saying her quest to become Miss American Treasure is her way of honoring our mom and keeping her memory alive. By the time her two minutes are up, there won’t be a dry eye in the house.
I sit back in my chair and wait for the waterworks.
But then something strange happens. Ginny doesn’t mention our mother. She doesn’t say anything at all. For several long seconds, she just stands there, wide-eyed, quietly staring out into the audience.
My dad, Susan, and I all exchange glances. What’s happening? We’ve never seen Ginny freeze like this. I have the sudden urge to leap out of my chair, dive onstage, and answer the question for her.
Wouldn’t that be a perfect spectacle?
Not necessary, though, because somewhere around the thirty second-mark, Ginny clears her throat and finally starts talking.
“Up until today, I thought I knew the answer to this question. I’ve always considered my mother, Miss American Treasure 1975, to be the most influential person in my life. But something happened this afternoon that made me realize that’s not true.” Ginny’s gaze sweeps the crowd, searching, until it lands on me.
My mouth goes dry.
She holds my gaze as she continues. “Most of the people in this room don’t know this, but I’m an identical twin. My sister, Charlotte, is only two minutes older than I am, but she’s been a role model for me since the day we were born.”
What is she doing?
All around me, heads are swiveling my direction. Somewhere near the front of the room, I hear a gasp.
No. I shake my head.Don’t do it, Ginny.
But she’s made her choice, and even when the timer dings, indicating her two minutes are up, she refuses to give up the microphone and keeps right on talking.
“My twin is smarter than I am. She’s kinder and more compassionate. She’s loves books and children and she’s been so sweet to my dog this week that Buttercup is going home with her instead of with me. Charlotte is exactly the kind of person I want to be when I grow up.”
A sob racks my body. I am shaking so violently that my teeth are chattering.
“I’ve done an appalling thing,” Ginny says, and her voice breaks. Something deep inside me breaks along with it. “All week, I’ve asked my twin to pretend to be me. I had an allergic reaction and couldn’t compete, so I asked Charlotte to take my place until I could get better. I dressed her up like me and taught her to walk, talk, and think like me. I asked her to cheat for me, and I had no idea what a terrible toll it would take on her.”
The room is buzzing now. It hums with the fury of a thousand bees. At the far end of the runway, the pageant director is climbing onto the stage.
“In conclusion, I just want to say I’m sorry.” Ginny takes a deep breath. “To all my fellow contestants, the Miss American Treasure organization, and to my parents. But most of all, to Charlotte. I should have been the one emulatingyouinstead of the other way around. Please forgive me.”
My sister offers the microphone back to the emcee, who looks beyond shell-shocked, but then she snatches it back to add one more thing. “Oh, and I quit. I officially withdraw from the rest of this pageant.”
And just like that, Ginny’s dream dies a painful, public death.
The scene in the ballroom is chaotic.
The last six contestants don’t get a chance to answer their onstage questions, nor are the top twenty finalists announced. The pageant comes to a screeching halt as everyone tries to make sense of what’s just happened.
The pageant director looks as if she’s on the verge of a heart attack and I have to be honest, Dad looks pretty furious himself. I want to stay and apologize to him and Susan. Eventually, I will.
But first, I need to get to Ginny.
