Chapter 19

Caitlyn

The weekend was packed with more activities than someone Caitlyn's age should have put up with. But she would be lying if she said being back in the game didn't give her a rush.

Or maybe that's the game I played last night. Once they were back from dinner and going their separate ways to their own rooms, Caitlyn backtracked to follow Jane into her room and dropped Rebecca's underwear on top of her wife's head. Rebecca wasn't the only one who got a spank that night. Every so often, Jane needs one too.

After that? Caitlyn belonged to the pageant. She wasn't allowed to think of anything else.

So much of the judging was already done in the preliminary rounds, from applications, written essays, and professional photographs and videos. Caitlyn had done those leading up to Iowa, and Izzy had helped her finish up the rest – including a tasteful video in front of the lake, where Caitlyn posed and pontificated what about her home state she loved most. I really should get extra credit. Women from California and Hawaii had plenty more to connect to the judges with than Iowa, even if Caitlyn did find her home state quite charming in its own ways.

Saturday, though…

Every pageant worked differently, and this one followed the beat of its own drum. The judges during the final on Sunday night were not the same ones during the preliminary, a change that Caitlyn already wasn't used to. From the moment she left dinner on Friday night, she and Izzy were in a late-night conference room, holding the preliminary interview with four other contestants. It was Caitlyn's first time meeting any of them. Idaho, Missouri, Rhode Island, and Georgia. They ran the gamut of ethnicities, age, and child-rearing status, with Caitlyn being the only childless one among them.

Izzy told her where to go and who to talk to. Which was good, because from the moment Caitlyn left her room early Saturday morning, she was wearing bathing suits and performing memorized sonnets for the judges. She prayed for a good hair day and got it when instead the representative from Nevada lost her wig when she walked before the industrial-sized fan behind the stage. Mrs. Delaware was likewise having the worst day of her life when her stylist cut off too much hair and she was forced to sport her first ever pixie cut on a national stage.

"Can you believe they have us doing everything the day before the finale?" A tanned woman with bouncy brown curls and a penchant for glittery eyeshadow spoke as she and Caitlyn lined up at the lunch buffet, where they were allowed thirty minutes between preliminary events to eat. "I don't know about you, but this is my fifteenth ever pageant and I'm more used to it being about a week in the lead-up."

"Twenty-sixth for me."

The woman almost dropped the piece of turkey from her mouth. "No kidding!" She reached over to shake Caitlyn's hand. "Mrs. Tandy Ohio, they call me." She waved her hand in front of her face to show she was joking. "Tandy Grover, Mrs. Ohio."

"Caitlyn Adams, Mrs. Iowa."

"Iowa! Hey, we're neighbors! Go Hawkeyes, right?"

Caitlyn knew this game. "Go Buckeyes."

"Thatta girl. Come sit with us over here." Tandy motioned to a table filled with three other members. "Come on. I know you're like us and don't have any other friends."

Caitlyn followed. She might as well.

"Ladies! We've got Mrs. Iowa here!" Tandy introduced Caitlyn to a round of polite applause. "Iowa, this is Georgia, Arkansas, and Washington. We had Michigan here for a hot minute but she was saying something about the cheese not agreeing with her."

"I offered her my Lactaid," Arkansas said. "Rookie mistake."

"Didn't we meet last night?" Georgia asked. "At the late-night interview. Nuh-uh." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Never been asked about my thoughts on public education at eleven at night. I shoulda been in bed."

Caitlyn sat with them, careful to mind her posture as she dampened her hands with a wet towel and used a plastic fork to eat. "I still don't remember what I said about microplastics," she said. "My mind was elsewhere." Like her partner's pussy, which she swore she still felt on her fingertips. Or that might have been the underwear in Caitlyn's pocket she took with her to dinner… and the interview. Definitely not a rookie mistake. Just a regular one.

"Which group are you in?" Arkansas asked Caitlyn. "We're all in Group 1, so we already got the evening gown and poise sections out of the way."

"Group 3. Athletics and talent are out of the way for me."

"That's why she's sitting up straight," Tandy said. "She's still gotta do the poise."

The contestants were separated into five groups of ten, each group rotating through the preliminary rounds that would determine the top ten at the televised event. And with every round being judged by different people, most of whom Caitlyn had never met before…

She had no idea what to expect. As usual, she spent more time prepping for a pageant than actually participating in it.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong," Mrs. Washington said while they ate, "but I thought Mrs. Iowa was disqualified. Are you the replacement?"

"I heard all of Iowa was disqualified," Arkansas muttered.

Caitlyn gave the most diplomatic answer that she had prepared. "I decided to come out of retirement at the behest of the pageant. Well, it happened through my coach, Isabel Ferandez. They asked her who she recommended to be Mrs. Iowa on such short notice, and well…"

"Oh, that's a relief," two women said almost simultaneously.

"Oh?"

Tandy from Ohio gave the others such a dour look that Caitlyn immediately took her to be the leader of this ragtag team of states. "Now, don't speculate. It sounds like Caitlyn is doing this as a favor." She flashed Caitlyn one of those pageant-loaded smiles. Complete with shiny, white veneers. "And to have some of the old fun again, huh? What did you miss the most? Oh, it must be the eveningwear portion. That is always the best part."

Caitlyn minded that none of her crumbs escaped her paper plate. She couldn't help but notice that the other contestants hadn't eaten much. Makes me hungrier. The buffet had all the makings of a well-balanced, light-carb meal, but Caitlyn would load up if she put in the effort.

"Meeting other contestants, of course."

They acknowledged her well thought-out answer, Washington joking that she really was a pageant veteran. "What do you do now?" she asked. "Housewife?"

"No, actually, I own a venture capital enterprise with my wife."

"Your wife?"

"Yes." Caitlyn dabbed her mouth with a napkin. "Her name is Jane. From Hong Kong."

If faces could have loading screens, she was surrounded by them.

"How lovely," Tandy said. "It truly is a new dawn and a new age, ladies."

Mrs. Georgia rolled her eyes. "How convenient the pageant found the one woman in Iowa married to an Asian lady. That's a lot of boxes checked."

"But are you a mother?" Arkansas inquired. "I've got four."

"No, I'm not a mother. Although we did take in my wife's niece so she can study here in the States. Legally, though, I'm not much of a guardian. Never had that gene in me."

More relief crept over their faces. Even Tandy let out a breath.

"I'm sorry," Caitlyn said. "I think I'm missing something here. I know even if any of you are homophobic or racist, you are well too trained to say that to my face. But you were relieved to hear that I was brought in at the last minute to represent Iowa before knowing anything else about me." Gone was the peaceful beauty queen mien. Adorned was the ruthless businesswoman who had two lovers to go home to. "Spill."

The four other women exchanged uncomfortable looks before Tandy was silently nominated to speak. "You can't take it personally. Everyone here knows which states are not in the running to win. You remember how it is. We get cliquey… competitive." That flashy smile wasn't as nice now. "Iowa is more or less disqualified after that bribery disaster. You were brought in to pad out the party. Too last minute to have a real chance, you know? Even though you check off the blond hair and big bosom that should have most of us quaking in our hosiery."

"And you're in a gay marriage," Georgia said. "That's really trendy right now. A pretty femme from the Midwest who is married to an Asian woman. Damn. Too bad you two didn't adopt twenty kids and single-handedly rebuild a church destroyed by a tornado."

Mrs. Arkansas put down her phone. "You don't even live in Iowa," she said. "I looked you up. Girl's a Yankee now."

Caitlyn scoffed. "I was told that owning property and living there for the month before was enough to let me in. Don't worry." She stood up with her empty paper plate. "I know I'm not in the running. I just really missed the whole pageant life, you know." She turned around. Catty bitches and all. "Thanks for letting me sit with you, ladies. Good luck to you."

That was the problem with Caitlyn, former beauty queen and current imposter in the pageant: she actually meant it.

Against her better instinct, she brought this interaction up with Izzy while they were waiting for the makeup artist to get to Caitlyn for the evening wear portion of the preliminary. I am so, so tired already. Caitlyn applied some eyedrops while attempting to not stare at the bright lights of the vanity in front of her. Her emerald green evening gown with silver crystals rattled every time she moved her arms.

Izzy studied Caitlyn's reflection before saying what was already known to be true. "You do know you're not going to win, right, Cait?"

She sniffed, fidgeting with her wedding ring. "I am not an idiot, Iz. As nice as it would be to get the validation of winning my first major pageant back from retirement, the odds are greatly stacked against me." Caitlyn glanced at her and Izzy's reflection in the brightly-lit mirror. "This is vanity. Not a chance in hell."

Izzy patted her on the shoulder. "You're earning a lot of good will being here, though. I've been eavesdropping on the producers and asking around. People are grateful you stepped up even though you're intelligent enough to know your odds are fantastically low."

"Uh-huh. Iz…" Caitlyn stopped fidgeting long enough to suck in her cheeks and contemplate the back of her eyelids. "Do I have a chance of making the top ten?"

Her coach grinned. "There's always a good chance for that."

"Top five?"

"Don't get too excited. Have you seen the profiles for Massachusetts, Alaska, and Tennessee? You're gay, smart, and fit most feminine beauty standards, but you're not a mother who fights against injustice and to raise the profile of their Native tribes."

"Same as ever, Iz."

"The game has really changed since you were snatching wigs and crowns, Cait. I will say, you are one of the only ones here married to a woman. I think the only other one is… wait. No, Vermont is divorced from a woman but married to a man now. You're the only one."

"But not a mother."

"To be fair, neither is California, and they're always a shoo-in for top ten."

"Numbers game," Caitlyn recited from her original days of pageantry. The competition was fierce in the Midwest, Iowa included, but the odds were nothing if Caitlyn compared it to California. There was a reason the first profiles she always downloaded from national competitions were from California, Texas, and New York. Those representatives had beaten out a score of other highly qualified candidates. Illinois, Florida, and Georgia were three others Caitlyn always took as serious competition.

Iowa did not often make major plays on the national stage.

"I've never won a national competition," Caitlyn mused while the makeup artist headed her way. "I made the top ten in Miss USA. Outside of state titles, that's my biggest claim to fame."

"Top ten in Miss USA is fantastic, Cait. So many Midwest girls would kill their best friend to get into Miss USA at all."

"All I had to do was win that particular Miss Iowa pageant. There wasn't a lot of competition that year." She bounced her finger against her cheek. "The contender we thought would win had to drop out because her food poisoning turned out to be morning sickness"

"I remember you taking that on. I wasn't your coach that year, but I was watching."

The makeup artist placed her carrying case on the vanity and pulled two plastic gloves over her hands. While Caitlyn sat up and breathed in deeply through her nose, she said, "Everyone was watching. That was a few months before I met Jane."

"You retired at your peak, some might say." Izzy bent down and whispered into Caitlyn's ear, "Because you fell in love. Remember that."

Caitlyn had an idea her coach meant beyond the good feelings, but with Izzy? There was always an ulterior meaning. Caitlyn merely had to mine through the muck to find it.

She was as beat as a rug in the sun by the time she made it back to her room, Izzy hot on her heels to go over the massive filming schedule the next day. Rebecca was the only other one in the suite, attempting to offer her girlfriend some low-sodium takeout to refuel her tired body, but Caitlyn didn't have the energy to eat while her mind was stuffed with information.

"We've gotta be at the studio by eight, so I want your ass in bed within an hour. I'll be here at 7:30 to walk you over."

Sighing, Caitlyn agreed to Izzy's demands, knowing that it was the only way to get the coach out of her suite so she could decompress. It was already ten. I have to be up at five-thirty to do all of my own prep before we leave. At least there would be a breakfast buffet at the studio.

"Here's the serum for any dark circles you might get tonight." Izzy placed a tiny bottle on the table. "Oh, and don't forget your Korean charcoal mask tonight. Read those instructions carefully! We don't want a repeat of two weeks ago."

"I fell asleep while putting it on. That's what happened."

Izzy snapped her fingers at Rebecca, who looked at her as if she were in the wrong room. "Make sure she doesn't fall asleep while wearing her charcoal mask. I don't think there's a makeup artist in the world who can fix what that can do to her skin."

When she finally left, Caitlyn splatted against the table, nose flat and lips vibrating to create a bombastically crude sound. Rebecca rubbed her upper back and offered some chamomile tea from the coffee station in the kitchenette.

"My favorite." Caitlyn lifted her head and took the cup. "Coffee-infused chamomile."

"It's what we've got here."

"Do me a big favor, would you?" Caitlyn held the hot cup in her hand as she flopped backward in her seat, eyes heavy and hair disentangling from its bun. "Sleep with me tonight. I could use an all-night hug."

Rebecca offered an understanding look. "Of course. If that's what you need."

"Thaaaank you!" Caitlyn called after Rebecca as she went to her room. "I know you've been enjoying having your own bed again, so I appreciate it!"

The gesture reminded Caitlyn that if she hadn't gone along with this silly pageant endeavor, they probably would have a new home to live in by now. One where Rebecca had her own bed and bathroom again.

I'm sorry, Becca. She had been so patient through this whole ordeal. Always the most selfless one out of us all. Nobody expected Jane or Caitlyn to give up their rooms when Cecelia moved in. Nor would either of them have the tolerance to wait this long until a new four bedroom abode was procured. Caitlyn had been in charge of that, after all. She had been so busy that past week she hadn't even answered any of Chara Harke's messages about new listings.

So much awaited Caitlyn once she was back in New England. Work. Investments. Domestic matters. A minor in my midst. She had missed most of Jane's drama with Cecelia, something Caitlyn felt bad about as well. She had to deal with it on her own… while I fucked off to Iowa to pursue… what, exactly?

The problem with self-flagellation, as Caitlyn often found that past month, was that everything led back to that kernel of truth from a few months ago.

"Of course, it's natural to gain some weight as you get older, but we must be careful to not gain too much, Ms. Adams."

She was never going back to that doctor again.

The hot lights of the live stage hit Caitlyn as she peered from behind the curtain. She was joined by twenty other contestants, each dressed in their evening gowns and awaiting the call to line up. Soon, they would be executing the simple choreography and stage blocking they had practiced all morning and early afternoon.

It was almost eight. In ten minutes, they would be on live TV. In three hours, there would be a new Mrs. United States of America.

Caitlyn knew she wouldn't win. She had known that from the moment she accepted Izzy's challenge to throw her hat into the ring, like old times. But was it too much to ask to make it to the top ten and fight and prove her worth to at least be there?

She glanced at the women soon lining up on their designated spots, each taped on the floor. This pageant, like some others, introduced the contestants in alphabetical order, meaning Mrs. Alabama was first in line with her canary yellow mermaid dress and bright brown hair complementing her dark skin. Caitlyn instinctively took her place between Indiana and Kansas, the latter of which wore a giant hoop skirt that brushed against the back of Caitlyn's buttocks.

"Sorry," the young, short woman with an interesting face shape said. "Really, really sorry. I'm trying to control this thing, I promise."

"It's fine." It took Caitlyn a moment to realize why petite Mrs. Kansas was dressed in a ballgown. "Are you Glenda the Good Witch?"

Kansas's cheeks were pinker than her dress. "Yeah. It was my kids' idea. They love the Wizard of Oz." Suddenly, she grinned. "I don't have a snowball's chance in Texas of making it past the big walk, so I wanted my girls to have something fun to see on TV. They're watching at home with my parents."

"How exciting for them."

"You got kids waiting to watch you walk?"

Caitlyn shook her head. "Just my mother." She paused a single beat. "And my partners."

"Partners?"

"I'm sure if I make it to the interview portion you'll hear all about it."

A producer used a megaphone to yell instructions as the countdown to live began. Caitlyn faced forward, posture perfect and the softest version of her pageant smile tickling her face as she prepared to go out there on autopilot.

A roar of applause announced the start of the live show before the producer motioned for Mrs. Alabama to begin the great walk. Although the announcer's voice was muffled behind the stage, Caitlyn still clearly heard, "Mrs. Alabaaaaama!" followed by "Mrs. Alassssska!"

"You are beautiful." Caitlyn whispered that to herself as she was prompted to take small steps forward. "You are smart. You are worthy of being here."

Her thoughts were interrupted by Kansas behind her.

"I'm coming, girls!" The pink fabric swished against the floor – and against the back of Caitlyn's butt – as Mrs. Kansas shuffled forward in two ruby red shoes. "Get ready for Mama! Get ready, Shawnee!"

Her excitement was infectious. So much so that by the time the announcer called, "Mrs. Iooowaaaa!" Caitlyn's grin had changed so she looked like she was laughing at some cosmic joke instead of falling back on the smile she spent hundreds of hours practicing in front of her childhood mirror.

These pageants were simple in the end. After the great walk of states came the announcement of the top ten semi-finalists, the women who would go on to participate in the live portion of the show. The portion we really train for. Pageantry was half knowing how to walk, smile, and answer questions, half mastering the demon that was stage fright.

Caitlyn considered herself free from stage fright. Yet the moment she walked out onto the stage, the bright stage lights blinding her from seeing anyone beyond the host standing to her side, she wondered what the hell she was doing here.

But there wasn't time for such self-destructive thoughts, was there? Caitlyn was here. She was committed. She took her space on the stage next to Mrs. Indiana while interest turned to Mrs. Kansas and her attention-grabbing getup. Everyone, including Caitlyn's own family, had forgotten about her already. At least she'll grab the "show-stopping looks" listicles tomorrow. Caitlyn preferred to stay off those. Her goal was to be memorable to one group only: the judges.

She couldn't help but wonder what her family thought right now, though. Were they proud of her? Astounded by her look, that half of them had helped put together? Thinking that this was the craziest thing ever, and they couldn't wait for it to be over? Would Cecelia laugh about this with her friends back in Hong Kong, using it as an example of Americans Gone Nuts?

Lord, it was hot on that stage. Why had Izzy convinced her to wear her hair down? The back of her neck was sweating like a sinner in church.

Poised. Pleasant. Presentable. She recited those words to help her maintain her stance and the soft smile on her face. The rest of the contestants filtered in until Mrs. Wyoming rounded out the collection with an uproarious round of applause from the live audience. Everyone was stoked to go to commercial.

"Back in sixty," said a producer over the stage stereo. "Great job, ladies. Please proceed to the stairs."

As someone in the middle of the pack, Caitlyn battled half the set of steps behind her. Her kitten heels weren't the problem – she was used to climbing stairs in those. It was the bottom of her dress, constantly attempting to get beneath her foot as she ascended the side of the bleachers, looking for her spot in the blinding light. When they rehearsed this that morning, she had been wearing a sundress that stopped beneath the knees.

The back half of the line was still filing into position when they returned from the commercial break. The producer assured them that the camera would not be on them until they were finished, which gave Caitlyn a moment to adjust her stance and wave to the B-roll camera sliding past her to collect extra footage to be used later.

Mrs. Kansas created a large heart with her hands as the camera went by. Is there a Mrs. Congeniality award here? Because she's got that in the bag.

"Welcome back, America!" the male host boomed into his mic once the cameras were live again. "Tonight, we will be crowning your next Mrs. United States of America! Who will it be? First, we must determine who of these fifty beautiful women have made it to the top ten! To be announced… now!"

The stage lights shifted into an array of colors and intensities as Caitlyn maintained her demeanor despite the blinding headache it caused. Beside her, Mrs. Kansas whimpered, hand held up to her eyes.

This was always the most agonizing part of these programs. Caitlyn could get through the preliminaries without breaking a sweat. Once she was in the top ten, she coasted on that high to carry her through to the top five, then to the win. Or runner-up, as happened to her more times than she could count in her pageant career. At least that resulted in me becoming the winner once. Such a rare occurrence!

But this? This part? The absolute worst.

The host was already announcing the top ten.

"Mrs. New Mexicooooo!"

Caitlyn lightly clapped with everyone else as the woman in a long-sleeved black gown and purple cloak that looked like the desert night sky stepped down from the bleachers. She barely had time to take it in before the next name was announced.

"Mrs. Hawaiiiii!"

Caitlyn would not be allowed to stop clapping until this was over. Gee, who saw Hawaii coming? Wasn't it illegal to not let Hawaii be a top ten finalist in every one of these things?

"Mrs. Kansaaaaas!"

A shriek of surprise startled Caitlyn as her benchmate almost teetered into the row before them. She snatched the back of Kansas's dress, holding on to her shoulder until the petite woman's flailing allowed her to regain her balance. The host quipped about Caitlyn's quick reflexes while two stagehands dressed in black came to assist the buoyant woman safely back to the stage.

"Mrs. Ohiooooo!"

Two rows down, Tandy pumped her fists into the air and graciously stepped off the bleachers. She's good. She has to be, if she's been doing so many. Caitlyn's autopilot clapping was making her arms go numb.

"Mrs. Iowaaaa!"

The spotlight shined directly on Caitlyn. "Huh?" To her left, Mrs. Indiana clapped right in her face while muttering the word, "Go!"

The stagehands were there to help Caitlyn down. She almost forgot where she was.

You did it. She swore that was Izzy's voice in her head. Maybe her mother's. A small part of her hoped it was Jane's, or Rebecca's. But no. It sounded much more familiar. More intimate.

It was her own voice.

You did it. You made it. I knew you could do it.

That month in Iowa had not been a waste. She hadn't abandoned her family for her own ego. Izzy had been right. Her own mother wasn't only saying nice things about her daughter. Caitlyn had done it. She had made it past the hardest part, her experience carrying her far but her current self carrying her farther.

It wasn't until she was at the front of the stage, next to Mrs. Kansas once more, that she realized she was crying. If nothing else, she still had it. That ephemeral quality, the je ne sais quoi, the something special that separated her from other women. A group of judges had read her essays, looked at her life story, listened to her interviews, and even graded her appearance and thought she had strong potential to represent the married women of America.

For one minute, every shred of self-doubt in her head disappeared. It was a beautiful minute while it lasted.