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Haddy
“Who says you can’t be a beauty queenanda scientist?” My best friend, roommate, and first cousin Gigi Bradford slides her brush through the silky coat of a tall dog with a long nose secured in a large, empty tub.
As soon as the envelope appeared in our mailbox, I snatched it out and ran to her small grooming studio in our converted she-shed behind our rented house in Los Feliz.
I didn’t want to open it alone, which is silly, I know. It’s just a check in an amount that will cover my entire tuition, room, and board for my next semester of graduate school. Still, my fingers tremble as I carefully unfold the green paper and read the dollar amount.
A letter with a golden-embossed “Congratulations, Princess!” printed across the top is also enclosed.
“It’s kind of embarrassing.” My voice lowers as I recall Dr. Warwick’s face when I told him why I wouldn’t be returning as his graduate assistant in the fall.
Winning International Princess Woman will allow me to focus on my lab work without the extra strain of grading papers and proctoring exams.
“Why are you embarrassed?” Gigi’s nose wrinkles. “It’s simple genetics, same as in the dog world.”
“Don’t say it…”
“You’re just like your mother.”
“You said it.” I fall back against the porcelain-tiled countertop.
My cousin pauses, cutting her green eyes at me. “More like Princess Drama Queen.”
“You can’t be a princess and a queen. It’s redundant.”
“Whatever. Your mom is a meteorologist, which is why you love science, and your grandmother was Miss Georgia World. You’re a natural for the nerdy International Princess Woman. It’s in your blood.”
“So you’re saying I’m bred for it?”
“Exactly!” Gina shakes her head talking in a baby voice as she rubs both of her hands on the golden dog’s muzzle. “Those silly scientists should understand. It’s in your DNA. Yes, it is!”
It’s annoying, but as a dog breeder, groomer, trainer, and judge in championship dog shows, it’s how my cousin views the world.
I have a pedigree. My family excels in scienceandpageants with ridiculous names that pay a lot of money.
I study the large check. “For a program that awards millions in scholarships every year, I don’t understand why they have to have the wordprincessin the title. It’s demeaning. They should just call it ‘International Scholarship Woman.’”
“But they give you a crown?” She tilts her head, glancing up at me.
“Yes.”
“And you wear it at events along with an evening gown and a sash.”
I exhale a heavy sigh. I can’t argue. Such commitments do come with the title.
“Some women like to be princesses.” Gina straightens, picking up a pair of sharp scissors.
“My professors are so confused.” I fold the check and slip it into my pocket. It’s too big for mobile deposit, so I’ll have to make a special trip to the bank. “Calling me a princess only makes it weirder.”
Gigi pushes a lock of strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear and leans closer to trim the dog’s whiskers. “Your dad is the one who should be confused. He has enough money to cover all their bills and yours. You don’t have to keep doing these pageants if they embarrass you.”
“No.” I shake my head determinedly. “I’m paying my own way. If I keep taking money from them, I’ll always be a spoiled nepo-baby. No one will ever take me seriously.”
Gigi’s lips twist. “I’m pretty sure your mom married Uncle Hen because of that same independent streak. She understands you better than you think.”
The woman smiling back at me from the cover of the pageant brochure has perfectly coiffed, wavy blonde hair, and she’s wearing a white, strapless dress with a red and white striped sash that readsInternationalPrincess Woman. It’s basically how I look at events, only my hair is dark brown and long waves, which makes my blue eyes more noticeable.
