The judge shook her head, a real smile cracking her lipstick. “No. She bought everyone hot dogs from the concession stand and taught them a line dance.”
“Okay,” she said, sucking in a breath. “The talent portion. I’m not juggling. I’m not doing a dramatic monologue from Steel Magnolias .” Dumplin-
“That’s the look,” Dumplin’ replied, adjusting the strap of her bright pink, one-shouldered dress. The dress was a miracle. She’d found it in the back of her late Aunt Lucy’s closet, sandwiched between a velvet robe and a pair of cowboy boots with actual rattlesnake skin. Aunt Lucy—or Lucy, as she’d insisted everyone call her—had been the undisputed, plus-sized queen of the Clover City pageant circuit back in the 90s. She’d never won the crown, but she’d won every single “Miss Congeniality.” People remembered her laugh longer than they remembered the winner’s name. The judge shook her head, a real smile cracking her lipstick
But tonight, she was staring it down.
Dumplin’ looked up at the Texas stars, so close and so far away. She pulled out the kazoo and played one last, squeaky chorus. It echoed off the silent streets of Clover City. “The talent portion