Free Lovesick by James Driggers Page A

available in the days before and during the contest. He had no idea when exactly Mona and Miss Virginia would arrive, and it came almost as a surprise when Mona opened the door to the room when Butcher had been sent to deliver afternoon tea. She motioned to the table in front of the window.
    â€œPut it down over there,” she said. “And don’t worry about pouring. I will do that for Miss Virginia.” Then, closing the door behind him, she added, “Don’t you look a sight all dressed up in a uniform.”
    â€œIt’s hotter than Hades, I can tell you that,” said Butcher. “And it scratches like hell.” Miss Virginia stood in the corner in a simple celery-colored dress. She was as still as a mannequin in a window, but he could tell she was nervous from the way she held her hands, clasping and unclasping them in front of her.
    â€œGood afternoon, George,” she said.
    â€œGood afternoon, Miss Virginia. I hope you had an easy travel.”
    â€œPleasant enough. So how are things here?”
    â€œSome of the ladies started arriving yesterday. They ain’t been going out much, though. I guess most everybody is keeping to themselves.”
    â€œWaiting for the opening reception to make an entrance,” she said.
    â€œI saved these for you,” he said, pulling a neatly folded stack of newspaper articles from his pocket. “They have been writing about all of you and the contest in the paper. It gives the names of everyone who is coming. And the schedule of how the contest will run.”
    â€œI have the schedule,” she said. “They sent that to me last week. The names as well. But it was kind of you to go to the trouble. Who knows? Perhaps there is something here that might be of use.”
    â€œMaybe so,” said Butcher, turning to Mona. “And how are you enjoying Atlanta, little miss?”
    However, before Mona could reply, Virginia interjected. “I don’t mean to interrupt this reunion, but it might not be appropriate for us to be receiving the colored help in our hotel room,” she said.
    â€œI understand,” said Butcher. “Besides, I have work to do myself. Everyone here is on high alert, like when the general would come to address the soldiers. Y’all are a big deal.” He opened the door and in an exaggerated voice repeated the words that he had been told to say to all guests, “Welcome to Atlanta. If there is anything we can do to assist you in your stay, please let one of the staff know.”
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    After George closed the door, Virginia motioned to Mona. “Pour me a cup of that tea, will you, sweetie? And put just a drop in it to help settle my nerves?” Virginia sat in the overstuffed upholstered chair by the window and began to read the clippings Butcher had brought her. She started with the most recent, which was from the Journal from the previous Sunday:

    OUT AND ABOUT WITH JOCELYN
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    More than a Cooking Contest:
The Best Will Rise to the Top
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    By Jocelyn Hind Crowley, Society Editor
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    Dear Readers,
    In an event that is sure to have housewives and society mavens alike across the region buzzing like bees in a hive, this weekend brings to Atlanta one of the season’s most highly anticipated events: the Mystic White Flour Company’s search for The Lady in the White Hat . Clayton Claiborne II, President of Mystic White, says he is hosting the competition to find the model of Southern womanhood, who will represent the company for the next year: “Someone who holds the ideals of family, honor, and home as sacred.” The competition, he continues, is not just about cooking. “It is about preserving the principles that represent us as Southerners.” Colonel Claiborne, as he is known to his friends, has spared no expense in mounting the contest, opening the doors to his grand Plantation House Hotel for the ladies and specially invited guests, including yours