We obeyed. The dining room was of moderate size, with seating for sixty or so customers. Each round table had a linen cloth, pristine ashtrays, and a vase of flowers. At the far end of the room was a long table covered with platters and trays, overseen by a pimply young man in a white jacket. A bartender waited behind a smaller table in the corner. Pedestrians on the far side of the windows glanced incuriously at us as if we were mundane freshwater fauna (i.e., guppies) in an aquarium.

Brenda and Jerome sat at a table near the window. She had a multicolored drink in front of her, he a more lethal martini. His eyes flickered at us over the rim of the glass as he downed his drink, shoved back his chair, and wound his way through the tables toward the makeshift bar. He moved carefully, which led me to suspect it was not his first martini-or second.

"Isn't this fun?" Brenda said, fluttering her fingers. "Jerome, dear, I'd love another of these wonderfully fizzy drinks. Frannie, that color is just marvelous on you. Catherine, you look absolutely darling! When Vernie and Deb were your age, they wore nothing but sloppy T-shirts and jeans with holes in them. I can't count the number of times I told them that they looked worse than ragamuffins off the street."

Gaylene clucked sympathetically. "These darn kids today-they lack class, if you know what I mean." She took off for the bar, her skirt creeping up her rump with each step. By the time she reached it, there was no doubt as to the color of her panties.

Ruby Bee and Estelle put their handbags on the nearest table and homed in on the food like airborne missiles with heat detectors. Frannie sat down next to Brenda, and after a moment, Catherine followed Jerome's path. This left me in an awkward position, as in standing next to Durmond in the doorway. I was quite sure we resembled a pair of freshmen at the first sockhop of the year.

"Thank you so much for coming!" Geri trilled from the lobby. I looked back at the two men in business suits, who were frozen just inside the lobby door. They were not identical, but their gray suits, hats, briefcases, and dumbstruck expressions were close enough to qualify them as salt and pepper shakers. She hesitated, then extended her hand and continued. "Are you from Travel and Leisure? I just knew Tina would come through for me, and I'm so very, very pleased that you're here. Come right in here and we'll get you settled with drinks and let you meet our five super-finalists! They're so eager to meet you. Do you have a photographer coming?"

"I don't think so," muttered one of the men. They conferred for a moment, then allowed Geri to escort them to the bar. As Jerome and Catherine turned around, I noticed she was holding a glass not unlike his-right down to the olives. Across the room, her mother winced, but continued to chatter with Brenda.

Durmond and I drifted toward the food. It looked good, especially to someone who hadn't had a decent meal in so long she felt as emaciated as one of Perkins's dawgs. I picked up a plate and allowed myself a visual feast: meatballs, imported cheeses, seafood platters, cold cuts nicely curled around fillings, crudités, and fruit dipped in dark chocolate.

As I poised a serving fork over the shrimp, Ruby Bee sniffed and said, "It's not bad, but I'd be embarrassed if I was Geri. Lord only knows how much this cost, and there ain't a wienie in barbecue sauce to be seen, much less any potato chips or mixed nuts."

"Or onion dip," Estelle said, smirking. "How much trouble is it to whip up a batch of onion dip, for pity's sake? Now, your fried okra is a sight more trouble, but I always say it ain't much of a party without fried okra." She peered more closely at a platter. "You'd think they could afford to pay someone to peel the shrimp for 'em."

"That cheese looks like it's been bleached," added Ruby Bee, pointing at a slab of Brie. "And this one smells worse than Boone Creek in August, when the fish take to flopping in the mud. What do you reckon this stuff costs?"

Don't think for a second that they weren't piling up their plates with the objects of scorn, or that I was about to jump into that conversation. I escaped to the bar, praying that their hisses were inaudible and no one from the press would realize I even knew the two gourmands.

Said gentlemen were being served cocktails. I nodded to them, asked for a beer, and fled to the farthest table to devour meatballs and bleached cheese (in Maggody, if it's not Velveeta, it's highly suspect).

Geri herded a man into the room. "This is simply marvelous of you, and I cannot begin to tell you how grateful I am." She gave him a conspiratorial smile. "You're from Gourmet, aren't you? You've got that look, if you know what I mean."

"Whatever you say, doll." The man winked at Geri and headed for the bar. She managed to close her lips, although it took a moment for her smile to slip back into place, and once again, the tiny frown line appeared.

It was still there as Ruby Bee and Estelle approached my table, staggering under the weight of their plates. "But the Buchanons all look alike," Ruby Bee was saying in a low voice as they sat down. "Maybe he's kinfolk on the less successful side of the family. Not everyone can be a plumber, Estelle. Some folks got to settle for less."

Estelle chased down a meatball and popped it in her mouth. "It's more likely I'm seeing things after all this time in this crazy town. Afore long, I'll probably see Mrs. Jim Bob selling pretzels from a pushcart and Hiram flapping the reins on one of those fancy carriages in the park. Brother Verber panhandling at the subway station. Perkins's eldest driving a cab."

"But you have to agree there's a favorance that ain't easy to miss. A right strong favorance."

Before I could dredge up the courage to ask what the hell they were talking about, Durmond appeared at my elbow and said, "If I may presume to intrude on such a lovely trio…?"

"Goddamn it!" Catherine exploded. We all stared as she banged her glass down on the table and grabbed her mother's arm. "For once in my life, why don't you leave me alone? I am not your Barbie doll! If you've got a problem with that, you can go straight to hell!"

It should have been an exit line, punctuated with the slam of a door. Instead, she released her mother's arm, sat back in the chair, and calmly picked up her glass. She wasn't exactly smiling, but she had a vague aura of triumph that made me uneasy.

Frannie tried to laugh. "Oh, dear, let's watch our temper and our language. We wouldn't want these representatives of the media to get the wrong idea." She waved at the three people hovering near the bar.

All three turned back and demanded refills. Frannie lowered her hand and again forced a laugh, although it reminded me of a drill sergeant on the verge of announcing a twenty-mile hike. "We'll be sure to go to bed early tonight. Lots of rest will make us feel so much better for the big contest tomorrow."

"Oh, yes," Catherine said complacently. "I can hardly wait to go to bed. All the little piggies want to go to bed, don't they? We can't have any little piggies crying wee, wee, wee all the way home."

Geri's lips quivered, but she clearly was at a loss for a response. No one else did any better, and we were all waiting for inspiration when the lobby door opened. Geri exhaled and looked over her shoulder. "Why, if it isn't the representative of Krazy KoKo-Nut, a mere twenty minutes late for our little reception! The media will be so pleased that you've deigned to grace us with your presence."

Kyle stopped in the doorway. "I had to shower and change after spending the day doing your chores. One would think the marketing firm could handle the mindless details, since that's what they're getting paid for. What a shame no one with experience was put in charge."