The girls and I exchanged glances. “Think church building program,” Lisa Leann said in a stage whisper, to which Vonnie added, “Here’s to a new youth wing.”
Gianne continued. “But first, America, let’s meet
The Great Party Showdown
judges. First up, meet Teresa Juliette, star of her own cooking show,
Teresa Sizzles
. Welcome to the show, Teresa.”
Amid thunderous applause, a plump African-American woman glimmered in a sparkling chef’s hat that topped off a matching white coat dress. She waved a white sequined spatula at the crowd. “Thank you, it’s good to be here.”
“Teresa, can you tell us the role of the judges on the show?”
“We can’t vote off the contestants,” Teresa said. “We’re only here to offer America our expert opinions.”
“Very good,” Gianne said. She stepped over to a small man with beady blue eyes. “Next, meet Brant Richards, our British import, and famous chef and party planner in his own right. Brant has been quoted as saying, ‘Nothing of good taste and nothing that tastes good comes from America.’ ”
The crowd booed, and Brant held up his hands as if to greet cheers. With his British flair, he said, “Mine is a discriminating palate.”
Gianne asked, “Do you expect to see a team you’ll approve of? ”
“If you put it that way, no.”
Gianne stepped to the right. “Well, then, America, meet Isabelle Salazar, a popular Brazilian party planner and caterer.”
A spicy young woman in a black cocktail dress jumped to her feet and vibrated like an excited puppy as she let out her trademark “
Muito bom
, baby!”
The crowd went wild with applause, and Gianne stepped back into the shot. “My goodness, Isabelle, you seem excited to be here.”
“Food and parties are my life,” Isabelle shouted into the camera, waving her hands above her head.
“I wonder what she’s on?” I asked as the girls twittered.
“Who knows,” Evangeline answered.
“Personally? I’d like to administer a breathalyzer.”
Lisa Leann winked at me. “Well, if we make it through the next couple of rounds, maybe you’ll get your chance.”
“Does that mean we might actually go to Hollywood?” Vonnie asked.
Lisa Leann shook her head. “Nope, this show is broadcast live from New York City.”
Goldie gasped. “New York City?”
Lisa Leann shrugged. “It wouldn’t be for a couple of weeks.” She shushed us as the camera panned back to Gianne for a close-up. “Coming up, can the ladies of Team Potluck really stir it up? Stay tuned.”
When the commercials started, Vonnie said, “Oh dear, I’m so nervous I’m shaking.”
Evangeline, who was sitting in Fred’s recliner, reached for her hand and gave it a little squeeze, then shot a stern look at Lisa Leann. “Vonnie, I know just how you feel,” she said.
Lisa Leann’s cell phone blasted Sandi Patty singing “Majesty,” and she answered. “Hello? Nelson? Yes, sweetheart, we’re all watching. What’s that? A warning?” She was silent for a moment, then said, “Okay, thanks for letting me know. Oh, did you talk to your dad? Oh, okay. Talk to you after the show.”
She hung up. I turned to her. “Warning?”
“Nelson wanted me to know that he may be providing some of the commentary introducing our team members. He hopes no one gets too upset.”
“How bad can it be?” I asked. “Nelson lives in Austin. He barely knows us.”
“That’s not true, Donna,” Evangeline said. “He was here over spring break helping with the wedding. Besides, he knows whatever his mother told him.”
We all turned and stared at Lisa Leann. “Listen, I don’t know what he said on camera, but he just used the word
embellished
. He said he’s sorry, he never thought the footage would go to air. He was just trying to be funny and get a good grade.”
Vonnie asked, “But he was behind the camera, so how could he film himself?”
“His tripod,” Lisa Leann answered before turning back to stare at another TV commercial for insurance.
I decided to get comfortable, so I stretched out on the floor with my hands cupping my head, looking up at the screen as the theme music of the show started to play. Gianne said, “Meet Team Potluck from the Colorado high country.” Nelson’s face appeared on the screen. He was a fresh-faced college kid, handsome with his green eyes and blond hair. He was wearing a waiter’s uniform, and the wedding reception was in full swing behind him. “I’m not really part of Team Potluck. I’m just helping out,” he said. Suddenly a wide shot of several of us Potluckers appeared as we scrambled in studio-enhanced fast motion to set up the buffet while music from the Keystone Cops played in the background. A breeze had picked up, so when the footage slowed back to normal, there I was under the table, taping the edges of the tablecloth down with duct tape. I looked at the camera and smiled. “This ought to hold her,” I said. The camera cut back to Nelson. “That’s Deputy Donna. She’s the hottest chick on the team, and the word on the street is she knows a lot about duct tape and has used it to subdue a few criminals.”
I sat up. “What?”
The camera cut back to Wade helping me carry the wedding cake to one of the tables. Honestly, he looked like Brad Pitt in a waiter’s uniform. The voiceover continued. “Wade is one of the deputy’s boyfriends.” Wade put a dot of icing on my nose, and I playfully hit him with a fist.
I groaned.
Another clip showed me carrying the punch bowl with Vonnie’s son David, who happens to be an Enrique Iglesias look-alike. Nelson said, “But then again, there’s David.”
More footage showed David whispering something in my ear, and I laughed. Nelson piped up, “So as we can see, though the woman carries a gun, it certainly doesn’t scare off the guys around here. Though rumor is she’s had to use that gun more than once.”
I flopped back on the floor and stared up at Vonnie’s ceiling. “No, no, no, this isn’t happening.”
Vonnie leaned down from her recliner and patted my shoulder. “It could have been worse, dear,” she said, as if that were any consolation.
Just then the camera focused briefly on Becky dressed in a flowing white gown as she clutched a bouquet of silk wildflowers and headed down the aisle to meet her groom, who was dressed in a black tux. The next shot was of Vonnie, who was grinning from ear to ear as she straightened the gold table runner down the buffet table. She was a cute, plump grandma, her round cheeks pink beneath her white hair, which fluffed in curls around her face. Nelson said, “Meet Vonnie Sunshine—she’s the happy pill of Team Potluck.”
Vonnie put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, dear!”
The next few shots of Vonnie showed her in a hugging frenzy— hugging Donna, then David, then Lisa Leann, then Evie, Wade, the bride, the groom, Lizzie, and even Nelson, who crossed his eyes then winked.
Nelson’s face came back on the screen. “It’s said they didn’t have to use sugar in the wedding cake.” The wedding cake, perched on a linen-covered table with the gorgeous Colorado Rockies in the background, appeared on the screen. “Vonnie only had to put her finger in the batter to sweeten it.” The last frame was of Vonnie’s face in full grin, with the special effect of sparkles bouncing off her pearly whites as chimes played.
Vonnie closed her eyes to block out the image as the camera panned to Lisa Leann. Nelson said, “This is the little lady known as Lisa Leann, and I can only say nice things about her because she’s my mom and, well, she’s the brains of this outfit.“ The camera showed Lisa Leann hugging Nelson, and he leaned down and kissed the top of her red hair.
“So moving on, let’s talk about Dizzy Lizzy.” One shot after the other showed Lizzy turning and pointing as she helped direct traffic. Nelson said, “The only reason this ol’ gal’s dizzy is because the other team members rely on her so much.”
Nelson continued, “Next up, meet our golden girl, Goldie the Goalie.” One clip after the other showed Goldie tossing items to team members: a rolled-up pink apron, a roll of paper towels, a fat candle still packaged in cellophane, even a camera.
Goldie shrieked. “Do I really do that?”
We all turned to her and replied as one, “Yes.”
“That’s what I get for marrying a high school coach,” she muttered.
Then the camera focused on Evie, whom I noticed was beginning to glow from a light perspiration. “Next, meet the woman some folks call Evil Evie,” Nelson said. The camera zoomed in to show Evie frowning, then panned back to show her hands on her hips. “But I say she’s really not all that bad, just occasionally grumpy. So judges, be warned.”
Evie squealed. “How could Nelson say such a thing? Everyone knows I’m as sweet as pie.”
I shot her a look and nodded. I kept quiet so I wouldn’t sound insincere. Vonnie Sunshine patted her leg. “Of course you are.”
Now the camera panned to show all our wonderful dishes displayed in their full glory while we, the smiling ladies of the club, minus Lizzie, stood by ready to serve. There was a succulent roast beef royally displayed, baby carrots in a light yellow sauce, fresh homemade rolls, gravy, fruit salad, and so much more.
Lisa Leann narrated the menu while a smiling Nelson helped by lifting lids, then tasting each dish on a china plate.
His face filled the screen. “Really, this is delicious.” The camera zoomed even closer, and he whispered, “Mom paid me to say that.”
The screen faded to black, and I was surprised that our three-and-a-half minutes of fame was already over. It was amazing the producers were able to show so much in such short, zippy clips. Gianne appeared with Teresa Juliette, who held her glittering spatula as if it were a scepter. Gianne asked, “What do you think of Team Potluck, Teresa?”
“I wish I could wave a wand and make that team more organized. Those women are a mess.”
Brant Richards smirked. “It was sheer chaos. And what were they thinking serving the rolls next to the gravy? A good caterer would never do that. But then, these women aren’t good caterers. They’re amateurs. Even the bride and groom were amateur.”
Lisa Leann gasped. “I hope Becky and Allen aren’t watching.”
We watched Teresa playfully whack Brant on the head with her spatula. “Don’t be such an idiot, honey. I’m glad they’re not like you. Why, you’re already on wife number four. This bride and groom were so sweet, this was no doubt their first wedding.”
Gianne said to Brant, “Doesn’t it bother you to give this kind of critique to Team Potluck when you know that Deputy Donna carries a gun and Evil Evie can be grumpy?”
“Hmph, this team will never make it through this round. I have nothing to fear from that girly deputy or the so-called Evil Evie.”
My cheeks burned, and I flopped onto my back. “Ugh.” Then I turned over and perched on my elbows to see Isabelle Salazar stand and gyrate like she was shot by a jolt of electricity. “Muito bom, baby!” she called. “I love the Colorado cheesecake.”
“I didn’t see any cheesecake,” Gianne said.
“I’m talking about those spicy waiters, Wade and David. Vote this team through so we can have another serving. Muito bom, baby!”
Gianne laughed. “America, you’ve heard from our judges. We’ll be right back after the break.”
A Toyota commercial appeared, and one after another our cell phones rang, making the room sound like the warm-up for an orchestra as each phone played a different tune. First Nelson called Lisa Leann. I could hear her say, “It wasn’t that bad. No. I think the girls liked it. Really.”
I rolled my eyes and then listened in on a cell conversation between Evangeline and my dad. Evangeline was saying, “So you saw it? No, I didn’t know we were going to be on. I’m appalled, I tell you, appalled. Did you hear what he called me? Evil Evie!”
Goldie was saying, “Jack, I just can’t understand how this could happen either.”
A call came in on my cell from our Clay Whitefield. “Donna, why didn’t you tell me you and the girls were going to be on that catering show?”
“I didn’t know it myself.”
“Well, I want an exclusive.”
“Gotta go. Wade’s trying to ring through.” I hung up with Clay and turned my attention to Wade. “Hey,” I said.
“Why didn’t you warn me about the reality show?”
“Sorry, but I had no idea about it.”
Wade laughed. “Well, I guess I don’t mind being called a cheesecake on national TV.
“Oh, so you think it’s funny now?”
“I do. Would you care for a slice?”
“Ha! I don’t think so. Look, the show’s starting again. I gotta go.”
As soon as the theme music started, our voices fell silent and we watched the packages the network had put together for the nine other teams. The teams included the Wild Cajun Cooks from Baton Rouge and the Boston Bean Team, which featured men in funny paper hats. Then there was Team Tex Mex from San Antonio. The caterers were made up of cappuccino-skinned beauties twirling in yellow skirts as they served up some great-looking Mexican dishes. I was a bit confused by the Moon Beam Team of Sedona. They all wore crystal necklaces and served tofu dishes on clear platters, which they referred to as vortexes. Do people really eat that stuff?
Then of course there was the New York favorite, Team Batter Up, an all-guy team from New York City and dressed in baseball uniforms. Another team that presented well was the Comfort Cooking Team from Savannah, Georgia, a group of June Cleaver look-alikes who served heaps of fried chicken and mashed potatoes along with some beautiful pecan pies. Then there was a bunch of college guys who looked like fraternity boys and did a lot of cooking with beer and French fries. They called themselves Team Gators and were from somewhere in Florida. Also included was Team Hollywood, a bunch of beauties dressed like starlets. They served elegant but strange and tiny appetizers. Mysteriously, they were the only group that got high marks from Brant. And last but not least was Team Café Mocha, a group of housewives who specialized in soups, coffee, and coffee-flavored desserts.
The hour passed quickly, and in the final moments, Gianne showed each team’s highlights with individualized phone numbers so the viewers could vote. “America, voting will be open for the next hour. Tune in next week to see which eight teams remain in the competition. If your favorite team is chosen, we’re flying to location to tape the results of their next great party challenge on their own home turf. Tune in for the results. Good night, America, and bon appétit.”