“Thank you, sister,” I said. “I think.”
“I’m just thinking that why not go get a great haircut, get your makeup done, buy a great dress, and let Archie know what he’s missing.”
“I don’t like to relive the past, but I did precisely that for your wedding, Leslie, and then your lovely father showed up with Lola,” Momma said. “What’s for dinner?”
“Seafood vegetable stew,” I said.
“Put in extra potatoes for me,” Momma said. “Never met a carb that I didn’t like.”
“Okay,” I said.
“But, Momma, you looked so great in all the pictures,” Leslie said. “Holly, it might be fun to get all glammed up. What do you think?”
What did I think? The thought of it made me nervous, that’s what. I felt like makeup and fancy clothes draw attention to you, and I wasn’t comfortable with attention. But how long had it been since I’d dressed up?
“Well, I might do it just for the fun of it, but I wouldn’t be doing it to try and get Archie’s attention on his wedding day. That’s for sure,” I said. “That would be gross.”
“Let me handle it,” Leslie said. “I still have some friends in the beauty business around here and I still have a few friends on King Street.”
“Okay, I’m going out to check on my bees,” I said.
“I want you to look fabulous in Archie’s wedding pictures,” Leslie said, calling after me.
“You’re such a good sister,” I heard Momma say.
Outside, I told my bees what was happening as I gave them some more water. They were buzzing all around me as though they were paying attention. I was excited to have the boys for a week, but I wasn’t excited that this wedding actually appeared to be happening. Then I sheepishly told them about Leslie’s proposed makeover. I decided I might as well go along with her scheme because otherwise she’d nag me to death until I did.
I looked over to Archie’s house and saw a window screen come sliding down from the second floor and hit the azaleas below. I looked up to see Hunter sitting on the roof. He had climbed out of the upstairs window. He waved at me with a big grin. I ran over to his yard in a total state of panic.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” I called up to him.
“I’m sitting on the roof!” he called back.
“Crawl back inside this instant!” I said. My heart was beating against my rib cage.
“Don’t want to,” he said. “I’m protesting!”
“Why?” I said.
“Dad’s not taking me on his trip to Bermuda! That’s why!”
“But it’s his honeymoon!” I said. “You’re staying with me!”
“I want to go to Bermuda!” he said.
“That’s not how this works,” I said.
“Tyler said Sharon was marrying into our family and the honeymoon is to celebrate it. If that’s so then we, Tyler and me, ought to get to go, too.”
I almost couldn’t argue with that logic.
“You’ll understand when you’re a little bit older,” I said. “But your dad’s right. You boys should not be going on his honeymoon.”
“Why not?”
My heart was pounding. Where was Archie?
“Because it’s just for the bride and groom! Now go back inside and don’t ever let me see you on the roof again!”
He crossed his arms and gave me an angry stare.
“Hunter? Don’t make me call the fire department!”
He thought about that for a moment and decided that a visit from the fire department probably wasn’t his ticket to Bermuda, so he crawled back inside.
The kitchen door slammed and suddenly Archie was in the yard.
“I heard something fall,” he said.
“Yeah, it was a screen. It’s over there.” I pointed to the bushes.
“Now how in the world did that happen?” he said.
“I wouldn’t have the first clue,” I said and thought, Wow, Hunter could have broken his neck.
The next day when I saw Hunter coming home from school, I took him aside and explained the concept of Lent to him, that this was a period of time when Catholics all over the world spent some time thinking about their souls and asked themselves if they were living a life that would please the Lord.
“What does that have to do with me?” he asked.
“It means stay off the roof, Hunter,” I said. “The good Lord would not be pleased.”
“Oh,” he said. “You might be right about that.”
“I’m actually certain,” I added. “So, what are y’all doing for Easter?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay. I’ll ask your dad,” I said.
Hunter ran inside to have an after-school treat with Tyler. Momma was making slice-and-bake cookies again. This time they were blond sugar cookies with the silhouette of a pink rabbit inside and sugar sprinkled all over them. Pink was all they had at Publix. They were out of green and blue.
Soon, Archie’s car pulled into the driveway, so I stood to greet him.
“Hi!” I said, popping up from behind the boxwoods like a jack-in-the-box. “The boys are inside with the queen. How was your day?”
“It was a good one. Yours?”
“Another day in paradise,” I said and crossed the road to greet him. “Archie, can I ask you something?”
“Sure!” he said. “Anything.”
“Do y’all observe Easter?”
“Most years, yes. But since Carin’s been gone, I don’t think we’ve been to church at all.”
“Well, this Sunday’s Palm Sunday, and down at Stella Maris they have an egg hunt for the kids on Saturday. I’d be glad to take the boys, if you’d like me to.”
“Oh, that would be so nice of you. Gosh, I’m glad you reminded me about Easter. I’ve been so focused on the wedding, I forgot all about it. I’d better get Easter baskets for the boys, too.”
“We have great ones at Publix. If you want, I can bring home two nice ones and hide them at my house until Easter morning.”
“Would you do that? Oh, that would be great! Thanks!”
“Sure! Somehow the holidays seem to have a way of sneaking up on us, don’t they?”
“Yes, they do. And this wedding’s sneaking up on me, too.”
“It’s okay to get cold feet, Archie.”
“I couldn’t do that! Sharon would kill me.”
We stared at each other for a minute. I could see I had confused him then. Was I telling him once again that he shouldn’t do this? He had told Leslie and me in no uncertain terms that he intended to marry Sharon. Well, then, if Sharon was the right girl for him and his boys, why hadn’t she offered to fix Easter baskets for the boys and for all of them to go to church together?
I knew I was an old-fashioned girl who still did things like go to church and plan for holidays. And I wasn’t reminding him about it because I thought I was a better Christian. All I cared about was the boys being overlooked and their not being included in a holiday that most of their friends and their families celebrated.
“Well, we’re making a traditional Easter dinner for after church. You know, ham, string beans, deviled eggs, potato salad, red rice—all that stuff. Biscuits. Anyway, we’d love for y’all to join us.”
Y’all did not include Sharon unless it had to.
“Well, that’s awfully nice. I’ll have to check with Sharon. You understand, don’t you?”
“Of course! Just let me know.”
Well, when the jury came in, the verdict read as follows: It would be a great help if I would be in charge of baskets and it would be great if I could sneak them over before the boys woke up. If I wanted to take them to the Easter egg hunt, that was fine. Church on Palm Sunday might work, he’d let us know, but for Easter Sunday, they were going to a gospel brunch at Halls Chophouse.
I outdid myself. I took them to the egg hunt and they had a ball. I let Mass on Palm Sunday slide, because they weren’t Catholics anyway. But when the sun rose on
Easter Sunday, I had on a rabbit suit, complete with ears and a puffy ball tail. As soon as I saw a light go on at their house, I left their baskets by the front door and sneaked all around the house, tapping on the windows and dropping chocolate-covered eggs on the grass. The boys saw me, of course, and were hysterical laughing. They quickly came outside and chased me, and I threw little foil-wrapped chocolate marshmallow eggs at them, saying things like, No! You’re not supposed to catch the Easter Bunny! It’s very bad luck! Run away! Run away!
I had not counted on Sharon being at their house. Somehow, I had missed seeing her car. She opened the back door, standing there in some Victoria’s Secret peignoir set and stirring a mug of coffee.
“Well, Little Miss Bunny Rabbit, aren’t you just adorable?”
I stopped in my tracks and stared at her. Suddenly, I didn’t care about her anymore.
“Nice job making Easter for these boys, Sharon. Very thoughtful job. You really knocked yourself out!”
Her smile disappeared, and she arched an eyebrow at me. There was hate in those eyes.
Silence hung like something dark and terrible was building. No one spoke.
Before it became horribly awkward, I gathered up my shopping bag of chocolate rabbits and jelly beans and said, “Happy Easter, y’all! Tell your daddy the Easter Bunny was here!”
And like a true bunny would, I hopped my way home thinking Sharon might have Archie for the moment, but the boys were mine.
“Here’s another fun bee fact. How about honey bees don’t sleep? They stay motionless to conserve energy for the next day!” I said.
“What?” Tyler said. “That’s crazy!”
Chapter Thirteen
Any Objections?
Leslie stayed home the night before Archie and Sharon were to be married, probably to give her liver a rest. I was pretty sure the Gentlemen of the Tap were holding a candlelight vigil at Dunleavy’s Pub, praying for her swift return. She said she’d been challenging old pals to see who could drink the most shots of tequila and stay on the barstool. I was like, what? You turning into a frat boy? How stupid. And she kept saying she still loved Charlie, but I couldn’t tell you why if you gave me a million dollars. In any case, they talked on the phone all the time.
Like I knew she would, Leslie had her way with my appearance, dropping a bunch of money at Stella Nova to transform my looks from the neck up and another small fortune at different retail establishments on King Street to take care of the neck down. This was more money than I had ever spent in one day. Ever. Not even for Christmas.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’m sending the bill to Charlie.”
We giggled like schoolgirls.
I had to admit I looked pretty amazing; for me, that is. The dress she chose for me was a bold shade of pink, sort of like the color of geraniums. It was linen, sleeveless, and fitted. I could wear fitted clothes because I was on the lean side—probably a result of all that yard work. She found beige strappy sandals with block heels, which were a good idea for an outdoor wedding, so I wouldn’t sink into the ground. Lastly, we bought a gauzy linen wrap, in case it got chilly. The haircut was layered a bit, definitely an improvement as it made me look like I had style, something that had totally eluded me for my whole life up to now.
“Who knew you had a figure like this?” Momma said when I tried on the dress for her to see.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said.
“You need a pedicure,” Leslie said.
“Why?” I said.
“Because your feet are gnarly and disgusting. Get in the car.”
“Calm down. I have to change first,” I said to Leslie. And then I turned to Momma and said, “I guess I’m getting a pedicure.”
Momma just shook her head and smiled. She was so much happier with Leslie around.
So I had a pedicure and a manicure, and I had to admit, it was really nice to have somebody rub my feet. I didn’t even know they needed it until it was all over, and I felt as light as a dandelion. And the pink polish Leslie chose matched the dress. Of course.
We’d been watching Archie’s house as the tent went up, and in the early afternoon, the caterer arrived and more chairs and racks of glasses from a rental company and then, of course, flowers. For as badly as I felt about Archie marrying Sharon, and I was really struggling to get over it, some tiny part of me was excited to be a part of it because, well, I didn’t get invited to a lot of big parties and weddings. It would have been much worse to be across the street longing to be a part of it. I wondered if they’d have a band and dancing.
Waiting for the appointed hour seemed like an eternity, but at last it was time to dress and walk over. Leslie and Momma had been invited as well, but earlier in the week they both begged off and sent me to represent the family.
“You don’t need me to hold your hand,” Leslie said. “In fact, you’ll do better without me there. But if there are any hot guys, come get me.”
“Don’t wait around for that to happen. I fully expect this to be a very dull affair.”
“Maybe I’ll drop in for a glass of champagne,” she said.
The QB harrumphed.
“If I never go to another wedding, it’s okay with me,” Momma said. “With the possible exception of yours.”
I knew the real reason she was staying home was because Archie’s wedding would remind her of Leslie’s, and I didn’t think there was a thing in her closet that would work. The dress she had worn to Leslie’s wedding was about five sizes too small and getting smaller every day.
“I’m not getting married any time soon,” I said. “But it’s nice to know you’d come.”
“Listen to you,” Momma said. “You’re starting to sound like me.”
Leslie said, “You look gorgeous.”
“Thanks. And Leslie, thanks for all of this. I mean it.”
“You’re welcome. You know, I know it’s going to be awful for you to watch him marry her.”
“Yeah, it will be. But I’m going for the children. It’s going to be worse for them.”
“You’re a good woman, Holly. I hope your prince is over there waiting for you.”
“If he is, I’ll ask him if he’s got a brother.”
We hugged then, like sisters. Physical affection between us was rare, but Leslie knew I was on edge and I think she just wanted to encourage me to be brave.
As I drew close, I could hear chamber music. Well, I thought, that’s pretty classy. There was a crowd of seventy-five or so people, milling around under the tent, talking and claiming seats. I spotted Hunter and Tyler. They were each wearing a navy jacket and khaki pants with a shirt and tie. Their hair was wet-combed. Their loafers were shined. Someone had seen to every detail. Probably Archie. They looked adorable.
“You both look so handsome!” I said to them.
“We’re the best men!” they said together.
“That’s wonderful!” I said and thought, At least they’ll feel like they’re a part of the whole event. “That’s a very big deal, you know.”
“We know. Dad told us that about a million times,” Tyler said.
“I’m still mad I don’t get to go to Bermuda,” Hunter said.
“Oh, come on, now,” I said. “Let’s put that behind us. And besides, we have a whole week to do things together! It will be better than Bermuda.”
They eyed me with keen suspicion, the kind of suspicion only little boys can harbor.
“Like there’s anything we can do about anything anyway,” Tyler said.
I knelt down to his level and looked him in the eyes.
“Tyler, it’s not easy to just trust anyone completely. Believe me, your father has thought all of this through. He only wants what’s best for both of you. Someday, when you’re a dad, you’ll understand just how carefully these choices are made. So promise me you’ll both give Sharon a chance, all right?”
They looked at each other. Tyler had his hands stuffed in his pants pockets. Hunter was kickin
g the dirt and sucking his teeth.
“Okay,” Tyler said.
Hunter said, “We’ll see. If she’s nice to us, then we’ll be nice to her.”
“No, no, young man. That’s drawing a line in the sand, and that’s not how this has to be. You have to begin with an open heart, Hunter. Promise me?”
“Okay,” he said after a moment of consideration.
I looked up to see Archie coming toward us. He was drop-dead gorgeous in his tuxedo.
“Is everything all right?” he said.
“Sure, Dad! Let’s go get you married off!” Tyler said.
Hunter was less sure but managed a crooked smile all the same.
“Let’s go. The sooner you get married, the sooner I get cake!” he said, and he scooted away with Tyler.
I stood there looking at Archie. He was so handsome I wanted to cry. Men in tuxedos were like men in uniform. There was just something so appealing about the formality of it. And he was wearing a Brackish bow tie, made of peacock feathers. I could feel his excitement, and then it all changed. He looked at me then as if he’d never seen me before. We both knew what the look meant. It was recognition.
“You look really, I mean, you’re beautiful, Holly,” he said.
I smiled at him and said, “I’ll still be the girl next door if you ever need me, Archie.”
He was quiet then as it all sank in. Perhaps he realized in that moment that he was marrying the wrong woman, but it was too late to do anything about it. And don’t you know, here came the bride, a vision of cleavage and bad taste in ecru lace with too many sparkling baubles all over her dress refracting the light like a light saber from Star Wars.
“Holly, is that really you? You’re so . . . um, pink!”
It’s unbecoming for the bride to be a bitch on her wedding day, I wanted to say, but I held my tongue.
Instead I said, “You look lovely, Sharon. What a beautiful bouquet. Congratulations.”
I was going to be a lady about it all. People were taking their seats. The chamber music began playing slightly louder.
Queen Bee Page 12
