Free Never Sit Down in a Hoopskirt and Other Things I Learned in Southern Belle Hell by Crickett Rumley Page B

kidding.
    But Miss Dinah Mae’s reputation so long preceded her that Mallory swooned at the mere mention of her name. She had run right over and threw her arms around Dinah Mae and cried, “Oh, Miss Dinah Mae, I’ve been waiting to meet you my whole life! I have! Ever since the very first time Ashley and I played Magnolia Maid dress-up when we were five. Oh my gosh, it is such a pleasure to meet you. My cousin Lucinda, she was a Maid a few years ago, she simply adores you.” She squeezed Miss Dinah Mae twice more before Mizz Upton was able to separate them.
    We Maids lined up in the dining room so that Miss Dinah Mae could inspect us. And inspect she did, like a drill sergeant studying her new recruits. Silent. Stern. Harumphing to herself. Finally, she turned to Mizz Upton and said, “Well, Miss Martha Ellen, this has got to be the sorriest bunch a belles I ever did see. Where’d you get these gals from?”
    News flash! Mizz Upton seemed almost intimidated by this tiny force of a woman. I wouldn’t have thought it possible if I hadn’t seen it myself. “I-I’m so sorry, Miss Dinah Mae,” Mizz Upton stammered. “It wasn’t my choice this year. The Jaycees, they took it out of my hands.”
    â€œYou think you gonna get them all whipped up into shape in time for the Boysenthorp?”
    â€œI guess we don’t have a choice, now do we, Miss Dinah?”
    â€œWe sure don’t.” Miss Dinah stopped at Brandi Lyn, who greeted her with her friendliest smile, until Dinah Mae sniffed and said, “Hmmph! Girl, you got some bosoms we got to hide or those boys, good God a-mighty.”
    Brandi Lyn turned beet red. “I’m sorry, Miss Dinah. I’ve got a minimizer I can wear.”
    â€œWhat you sorry for? The good Lord gave you that, didn’t he? Miss Dinah’ll take care of it.” She moved on to Zara and paused. Straightened up. “Child, there are two days I thought I’d never see come in my lifetime. This is one of ’em.”
    Mizz Upton nodded enthusiastically. “We’re diversifying this year, Miss Dinah. Getting into the twenty-first century!”
    Miss Dinah paid her no mind. She was too busy studying Zara. It was a funny sight, like a toddler standing next to a basketball player. Miss Dinah shook her head. “Girl, you ate those Wheaties all up, didn’t you? You gonna wear Miss Dinah out, making a skirt long enough to cover those legs.” She moved on, but not before whispering proudly to Zara, “You represent good, now, you hear me?”
    Zara nodded. Vigorously. “Yes, ma’am.”
    She looked each one of us up and down and immediately identified which body part was going to make her “work.” Mallory’s neck was long, “just like her mother’s,” so Miss Dinah would have to be careful she didn’t come out looking like a giraffe. Caroline “had meat on her” (a pronouncement that made Mizz Upton cringe in horror), but that was okay, Miss Dinah had a special nip pleat that would help out with that. Ashley—this is hilarious—had legs shorter than her torso, which was going to mess up the bodice/skirt ratio.
    Ashley’s face bloomed scarlet. “My legs aren’t short! What are you talking about?”
    â€œDon’t you argue with Miss Dinah. I made over three hundred of these dresses before you was born. I know from these dresses.”
    â€œBut…” Miss Dinah Mae had already moved on to me, and I was having a hard time dealing with the fact that she was staring me in the eyes like she could see into my soul.
    â€œSomething’s going on with you, child. You the queen?”
    â€œNo, ma’am. We don’t have one.”
    Miss Dinah glanced over at Mizz Upton. “That true?”
    Mizz Upton, looking like she was going to poop a bag of peanuts, nodded. “The girls haven’t elected a queen yet, Miss