Queen Bee

by Dorothea Benton Frank

  I guessed then that the door was open to me again. As much as I had once wanted to be with him, that day I decided to let him come to me. I stopped blaming myself then, because what was done was done and it could not be changed. And I also knew that the hive had a will of its own.

  “How do the bees get the nectar out of the flowers?” Hunter asked.

  “Well, they can fold their tongue like a drinking straw and then they suck it out.”

  “Like this?” He rolled his tongue and made a great slurping sound.

  “Yes,” I said and thought he was priceless.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Good to Bee

  Leslie and I were up early and driving Momma to MUSC first thing in the morning. I’d had no further communication from Archie. And I was pretty sure Leslie had not been in touch with Char. Our focus was all on the QB.

  “Did you talk to Suzanne?” Leslie said. “Does anyone want me to stop at Dunkin’ for coffee?”

  “Yes, of course,” Momma said. “I talked to Suzanne.”

  “I wouldn’t mind an iced coffee with cream,” I said.

  Leslie pulled into the drive-through lane at Dunkin’ Donuts on Coleman Boulevard.

  “Y’all want anything else?”

  “I wouldn’t shoot you if you got me a glazed doughnut,” I said.

  “You’ve got it,” Leslie said. “Actually, that sounds pretty good.”

  “I’m not allowed food or drink,” Momma said.

  “I know,” Leslie said. “I’ll get you doughnuts when this is over. So what did Suzanne say?”

  “She wanted to come,” Momma said. “I told her no.”

  “Why?” I said. “I’d love to meet her.”

  “Well, you might meet her sometime but not today. I’m too nervous about this procedure to play hostess.”

  “I understand that,” Leslie said. “But if Suzanne were to come, I doubt she’d be expecting you to show her the town.”

  “Exactly, and I’d want to. I mean, after all she did for us in Las Vegas.”

  Leslie gave our order and we drove around to pay.

  “Did Char come up in conversation?” Leslie said and handed the person at the window a twenty-dollar bill.

  Leslie handed me my coffee and a small bag and dropped her change in her bag. I put the coffee in the cup holder and took the paper wrapper off the straw, stabbing the opening in the top of the cup. I couldn’t get the doughnut in my mouth fast enough.

  “Of course,” Momma said. “Suzanne said Char wishes me luck and sends her love to you. I told her about the autopsy and the police finding and she was very relieved for us.”

  “That’s nice,” I said, “but I still have the threat of that civil suit.”

  “You’ve got to stop worrying about that,” Momma said. “It may never come to pass, and you’ll get a hundred gray hairs for nothing.”

  “That’s a decent piece of advice, Holly,” Leslie said.

  “I suppose it is,” I said. “You know, there’s this piece of me that wishes life could go back to before Sharon met Archie. I was so much happier.”

  “And I was a lot happier before I found your father’s condoms in the air conditioner filter.”

  “And I was a helluva lot happier before Charlie became Cher’s long-lost identical twin!”

  “I guess we all have our problems,” I said.

  “I’ve been telling you girls that for years,” Momma said.

  We got to MUSC, found parking, took Momma in, filled out all the forms, and then we waited an eternity until they came to get her.

  “Good luck, Momma,” I said. “I know you’ll do fine.”

  “Thanks, sweetie,” she said and gave me a hug.

  Leslie said something similar, and Momma hugged her, too. The attendant asked her to sit in the wheelchair and then wheeled her through the swinging doors.

  “She called me sweetie,” I said.

  “I know. She must be terrified. I’m calling Suzanne,” Leslie said. She got up and walked outside to get better reception.

  I waited a few minutes, then I checked my cell phone for messages. There was a text from Archie.

  At some point I’d like us to talk.

  That was it. So I texted him back.

  Sure.

  I figured short and sweet was the best. I didn’t gush all over him. I didn’t even ask what he wanted to talk about. Sharon wasn’t even in the ground for forty-eight hours and he needs to talk to me? About what?

  Leslie came back.

  “That was quick,” I said.

  “I left a message,” she said. “What’s the matter?”

  I showed her Archie’s text and she sucked her teeth, making that snick sound.

  “You want to know what I think?”

  Leslie had bailed on Team Archie when he rejected her.

  “Of course I do!”

  “I think he’s wondering if you’re going to pick up where you left off with helping him with the kids.”

  “I have no intention of doing that.”

  “Good. Can I ask why?”

  “Well, it’s a funny thing. I was watching the boys on their bikes the day after Sharon died. They were happy and laughing, on their way over to Matthew’s house. I felt like, okay, they’re fine, and I don’t have to hold them up and feed them and all that. I mean, if Archie needs a sitter or a tutor and I’m around, then fine. But I keep thinking about Archie and I keep trying to understand, how and why did he let Sharon treat his boys the way she did?”

  “Because he’s a spineless idiot?”

  “Or something very close to it. That was my thought. And when I tried to talk to him on the boys’ behalf, he didn’t listen to me. He thought I was being dramatic or something. I mean, I spoke to him on several occasions and really laid it on the line and still, he was not moved.”

  “Well, we already know he’s got lousy judgment.”

  “I think it’s worse than that. Remember I told you I had a date with this guy I used to go to school with? The acting police chief?”

  “Yeah, I remember. What about it?”

  “Well, he made me see Archie in a new light. Archie is a taker. He would take and take and take and then go off and marry somebody like Sharon. Ted, the guy I went out with, is a giver.”

  “My Charlie was a taker of the first order.”

  “Yeah, well, I think I like givers better than takers.” Then I told her about Archie at his wedding and his phone calls from Bermuda. “It made me super uncomfortable.”

  “What’s the matter with him?” she said very quietly. “He knew before he married her that he was making a mistake and did it anyway. Then he goes on their honeymoon, carrying a torch for you. You tell him the awful things Sharon is doing to his little boys and he ignores you. He’s just off base all over the place. I think this guy needs a strong dose of reality check and therapy.”

  “And this from a Harvard Ph.D. in religion. Shouldn’t he have a more reliable compass?”

  “Yes. Yes, he should.”

  “Anyway, I sort of feel like I did my thing with the boys. They’re fine and on their way. They know where to find me.”

  “I hope this guy Ted remembers where to find you.”

  “Oh, I expect now that the Sharon disaster is pretty much behind us, I’ll hear from him.”

  “Wait a minute. Was he ignoring you until he found out her death wasn’t your fault?”

  “Good Lord, no. Let’s be honest, we don’t get too many suspected homicides on the island. He was probably pretty busy figuring things out. Anyway, we’ll see.”

  Leslie gave me a funny look.

  “What?”

  “I think I like you a lot better without Archie monopolizing your brain.”

  “I think I like me better, too.”

  We waited, reading magazines, checking e-mail, pacing until after noon. There was still no word on Momma. I went to the desk to ask.

  “Let me check,” the attendant said and made a phone call.
“Last name of the patient?”

  “Jensen. Katherine Jensen.”

  She repeated Momma’s name into the phone and was told to wait. A few minutes later she had our answer.

  “They just took her in. They had an emergency and had to take the OR for that. So, they’re a little behind. Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.”

  I wondered how many times a day she said, Don’t worry, she’ll be fine.

  “Thanks.” I went back to Leslie. “They just took her in. Some emergency caused a slowdown. Anyway, how long is this supposed to take?”

  “Less than an hour. Maybe a little longer.”

  I looked at my watch. It was close to one.

  “You want lunch?” I said.

  “Sure. Let’s walk over to Melfi’s. New place. Food looks amazing.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Melfi’s had the feel of a clubby but super hip Italian trattoria that welcomed all comers. It was a neighborhood place but also a destination. The food was wonderful. Their wide variety of pasta was all made in house. But Leslie and I were feeling like pizza. We ordered a Mrs. Melfi’s Pie to share and salads with Italian dressing.

  “Iced tea is fine for me,” I said when our waiter was ready to take our drink orders.

  “Me, too,” Leslie said.

  “Very good,” our waiter said and left.

  “What do you think the odds are that Momma will wake up and be pissed that we’re not there?” I said.

  “We can say we went out to get her something to eat,” Leslie said. “That will make her happy.”

  “Great idea. Let’s take her something,” I said. “So, Leslie, what are you going to do about Char?”

  She sighed a huge sigh and looked at me with so much sadness.

  “I’m going to let her open her show, send her a big bouquet of flowers, and pray she does great. And in a few weeks, I’ll call her and tell her that I think it’s best if we dissolve our marriage and go our separate ways. That’s my plan.”

  “I sort of figured that’s where you were headed. I mean, divorce is messy, but you’ve got to settle things so you can move on.”

  “Exactly. And let me tell you, she doesn’t want to be burdened with a wife, or a wife in name only. She needs to spread her wings and fly.”

  “So do you,” I said.

  “Um, so do you,” she said. “Look, for the foreseeable future, I’m going to be living at home. If there’s somewhere you want to go, you know, like, to live in Atlanta or something, now is the time you should give it some thought.”

  “You want to know what’s funny?”

  “God knows, I could use a laugh. What’s funny?”

  “I’ve spent the last eight or so years, ever since I graduated from college, complaining about being stuck on the island. Why couldn’t I have Archie? And now that I can probably have him or move to anywhere that strikes my fancy, I want to stick around and see where this thing with Ted might lead. Besides, who would take care of the bees?”

  “Oh, the irony of it all!” Leslie said with a lot of drama. “I think the bees could take care of themselves.”

  We ate our pizza, moaning about how delicious it was, and there wasn’t so much as a piece of crust left. On the way back to the hospital we picked up a sub sandwich for Momma. When we arrived back to the family waiting area in the hospital, there was an old pirate sitting there reading a People magazine with a very large bouquet of flowers resting on the seat next to him, probably intended for his wench. I wondered who in the world he could be.

  “Suzanne!” Leslie said.

  I nearly fainted. This was Suzanne?

  Suzanne Velour was in the building! She jumped up from her chair and hugged Leslie so hard, I could hear her vertebrae crunch.

  “Leslie! Oh, my dear girl! I’m so glad to see you!”

  “I can’t believe you’re here!” Leslie said.

  “I took the first plane I could get,” Suzanne said and then turned to me. “Holly?”

  “Yes. That’s me,” I said and giggled.

  “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so happy to meet you!” Suzanne said.

  I thought, You know what? Okay, she’s a little peculiar, but she’s very nice.

  “Tell me about the queen. What’s the story?”

  We told her all we knew, and her concern for Momma was real.

  “So, this is not the cure. It’s just a treatment of this episode,” she said.

  “Yes,” Leslie said. “At least that is how I understood it.”

  “Well, then,” she said. “That settles it.”

  “That settles what?” I said.

  “I’m staying with her until the bitter end. That’s what.”

  Leslie and I just looked at each other and then back to Suzanne in disbelief.

  “I know what you’re thinking, but I’m going to tell you something you don’t know. I am so in love with your mother, I can’t see straight. Deeply and truly in love. She has more spunk and wicked sass in her than any woman I’ve ever met. She makes me laugh from head to toe and she makes me happy like I haven’t been since, well, in too many years.”

  Leslie was the first to speak.

  “Well, then, Suzanne Velour? Welcome to the Lowcountry!”

  I thought, Oh boy. How’s this going to work?

  “Did you know that monarch butterflies migrate?” I asked Tyler. “It’s another reason to plant goldenrod. They love it, too.”

  “Where do the butterflies go?” he asked.

  “Some go to Palm Beach,” Suzanne said. “The rest go to Boca.”

  “Don’t listen to her,” I said and laughed.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Bee Leave

  Momma opened her eyes and saw Suzanne before she saw Leslie or me. She closed her eyes again, opened them, and smiled.

  “Suzanne,” she whispered with so much tenderness, I couldn’t believe my ears.

  “My dove, I’m right here,” Suzanne said. “Just rest.”

  And that was a preview of how the following days would unfold. Suzanne, true to her word, never left Momma’s side except to get something Momma needed. We picked up an air mattress from Bed Bath & Beyond and Suzanne slept on the floor right next to Momma’s bed. Momma’s procedure was more invasive than they thought, there was more cancer than the PET scan showed, and so her recovery time would be longer. The good news was that her team of oncologists at MUSC were confident that they’d gotten it all.

  Word got around that Momma had had some kind of surgery, and of course, people came to call. They brought casseroles, shrimp salad, cold salads, pound cakes, tomatoes or basil or peppers from their gardens—the usual things. Suzanne was the gatekeeper, deciding who Momma could see and how long they could stay.

  Maureen was the first to knock on our door the day we brought her home. She came with brownies and curiosity. If Suzanne’s appearance surprised her, she didn’t show it.

  “How’s the queen?”

  “She’s doing just great, but she tires quickly,” Suzanne said.

  “That’s probably the anesthesia,” Maureen said. “My mother was a nurse. Once a patient reaches a certain age, it’s harder to get over the anesthesia than it is to get over the surgery.”

  “That seems to be the case,” Suzanne said.

  “Don’t let it scare you if she seems a little out of it,” Maureen said.

  “If she hasn’t scared me up until now, I doubt that she ever will,” Suzanne said.

  I walked Maureen to the door, and we stopped to chat for a few minutes on the front steps.

  “Suzanne, huh?” she said.

  “Aka Buster Henry, retired military. Got sick of uniforms. Likes costumes better.”

  “Well, she might be a little strange, but she sure is devoted to your momma,” she said.

  “I know. And you know what else?”

  “What?”

  “If I haven’t learned anything else this whole year, I learned that love comes in every color, shape, and size,” I said. />
  I was thinking about not only Suzanne’s affection for Momma but Leslie’s for Charlie, and mine for Archie and his boys, and his for Sharon, and my recently piqued interest in Ted.

  “How are the boys?” I asked.

  “Tyler and Hunter live in my pool now,” she said with a laugh. “I know it’s not my place to correct them, but I had to tell them to stop saying how happy they were that Sharon was dead.”

  “That’s appropriately terrible,” I said with a smile on my face.

  “Have you seen Archie?”

  “Not even a sighting in passing. You?”

  “Nope. Poor devil,” Maureen said.

  I looked up at the sky. Even at four o’clock in the afternoon, it was blazing blue.

  “I don’t know if I’d call him a poor devil,” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “I must be getting old,” I said.

  Maureen looked at me and said, “At a certain point we all put away our rose-colored glasses, right?”

  “You have to stop reading my mind, Maureen!” I laughed and she gave a little chuckle. “And I always thought I needed to get far away from here to understand the world a little better when all the while . . .”

  “All the answers were right here under the freckles on your nose?”

  “Yep.” I shook my head. “Isn’t that something? Oh, I expect there are things to see that are worth the trip.”

  “Definitely.” She smiled. “Hey! Have you ever been to Italy?”

  “Italy! No, can’t say I have. Only through the magic of Hollywood. But I think it might be super fun to ride on a Vespa and throw coins into fountains. How about you?”

  “Me, either. But! I was going through the mail I usually throw out, and my alma mater is hosting a trip through Rome, Venice, and Florence, ten days, two thousand, all inclusive. Even airfare. Want to look at it?”

  I thought how much money was in my Maserati fund and I couldn’t remember. And then I said I might.

  “Can’t hurt to look,” I said. “Italy. Wow.”

  “I really want to go, but I don’t want to go alone,” she said. “I’ll bring the brochure over or I’ll text you the link.”

  “Sounds terrific, and hey, thanks for the brownies.”

  “It’s nothing. I’m glad your momma’s home and that it went well.”