Queen Bee

by Dorothea Benton Frank

  “Sweetheart, let me understand something,” she said. “You gonna be a third wheel tonight?”

  “That appears to be the case,” I said.

  “Well, for God’s sake, go wash your hair. And scrub your nails. You look rode hard and put up wet.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Sisters.

  “Here’s a fun bee fact,” I said.

  “What?” Hunter said.

  “Bees are cold blooded. When the temperature reaches below fifty degrees, they can’t fly!”

  Chapter Eight

  Bee Team

  It just so happened I had a purple sweater and it was relatively new, the perfect color for a Lakers game. It looked just right with my khaki-colored capris. Leslie loaned me her leopard-print ballet slippers.

  “Capris? Really?” she said.

  “No?”

  “No. What are you? Fifty? Wear my leggings.”

  “If you say so!” I pulled them on, thinking they were a little immodest.

  “Meow,” she said. “On the prowl.”

  “Meow, indeed,” I said and shook my head.

  I blew my hair out and Leslie flat-ironed it. I actually looked better than pretty good. No one would have ever said I was gorgeous, that’s for sure. But I had nice skin that didn’t need evening out with makeup. If I used a little mascara, my eyes seemed bigger. And I was a lip gloss fan. I’d have to say my thick hair that was just past my shoulders was probably my best asset.

  Leslie was focused on my evening’s agenda like a heat-seeking missile.

  “We have to have a plan,” she said.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Unnerve her. Your comfort level with the boys is in the stratosphere. This is her first time meeting them. If she has serious designs on Archie, she’ll be on her best behavior. You’re bringing popcorn. That’s good. Kids love popcorn. I’ll bet you twenty dollars she brings him wine and nothing for the kids.”

  “We’ll see. I’m not going to stay for the whole game,” I said.

  “Why not? Get in there and fight, Holly!”

  “I’m just going to stay long enough to ruin her night,” I said, adding, “I hope. I’ve got to pop the corn.”

  “Well, you’ll have to see how it goes,” Leslie said. “In any case, the boys should be the key to Archie’s heart. In my opinion, anyway.”

  “Well, if food was the ticket, I would have known it by now,” I said.

  “Wow, you aren’t kidding. How many times have you fed them?”

  “If I had a nickel for every PB and J sandwich I made for the boys, we’d be having this conversation in an oceanfront mansion!”

  I threw a pack of popcorn into the microwave, set the timer, and pressed start. Leslie and I stood there looking at each other, waiting for the popping to start.

  “What am I going to do with myself?” Leslie said.

  “I think you need to get a lawyer. Charlie might be able to keep his parents’ money, but you’re entitled to something.”

  “Yes. I agree with that. I don’t know if I’m ready for battle,” Leslie said.

  “That’s what the lawyers are for,” I said.

  “Do I smell popcorn?” Momma appeared in her new housedress, the kind you step into and then you zip it up, of which she must’ve had a dozen. “Where are you going, missy, all dolled up?”

  “I’m going to the ball with my prince,” I said.

  “Is that a fact?”

  Leslie said, “She’s going next door to meet Archie’s girlfriend and watch the Lakers clobber Atlanta.”

  “Are we now?” Momma said.

  “Good luck,” Leslie said.

  “Thanks!”

  “Wait!” Momma said. “I want some popcorn.”

  “It’s for the boys,” I said and took a jar of my honey with pecans from the pantry.

  Honestly, I thought.

  “Holly, get out of here! I’ll pop another package for the queen.”

  “Thanks,” I said, and dropped the honey and the hot popcorn in a plastic grocery bag. “See y’all later.”

  “Now that’s a sweet daughter!” Momma said to Leslie.

  Leslie rolled her eyes up in her head.

  I crossed the front porch and went down my steps the same way I had at least a million times, but for some reason this time felt different. The hair on the back of my neck bristled. I ignored it, knowing that when my neck hairs bristled, something was about to happen. And instinctively I knew I wasn’t going to like it.

  There was a dark-colored sedan in Archie’s driveway that must’ve belonged to Sharon. I looked at her car for bumper stickers, because they say a lot about a person’s politics and so on. There were none to be found. I climbed the stairs to Archie’s house and rang the doorbell. Hunter came flying to the door in his Superman pajamas with Tyler right behind him in plaid flannels.

  “Hey, Mith Holly. Game’s starting,” Tyler said.

  “You don’t sound too happy, pal. What’s wrong?”

  “I hate her,” he said. “You’ll see why.”

  “Oh, dear. Well, I brought popcorn. It’s still hot, so we need to get it in a bowl.”

  I began walking toward the kitchen and before I got there, I could see Archie with a woman I assumed was Sharon. She had her arms around his neck and she was laying one powerful and prolonged kiss on him. I cleared my throat loudly and walked right on in with the boys on my heels. It was like watching a train derail. I didn’t want to look, but there it was. Archie untangled himself from her choke hold and wiped his mouth. His face was blotched with her red lipstick, remnants of something that shouldn’t be going on with the kids right in the next room. I hadn’t even seen her face and I already despised her.

  And then she turned around. To say she was my antithesis is an understatement. She was tall to my short, big boned to my smaller frame, big chested to my average-sized bust, and made up for Mardi Gras. Her shirt was too tight, her heels were too high, and she had on too much jewelry.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Holly, this is Sharon. Holly lives next door. My boys adore her.”

  “As long as you don’t, then I don’t mind,” she said.

  Archie was completely fine with the fact that the boys and I caught them kissing. Or if he wasn’t, I couldn’t tell. Either way, I was irritated.

  “Hi,” I said. “We just need a bowl for popcorn. Sorry to interrupt.”

  “Oh, no problem!” she said, smiling like Delilah.

  I moved past her as Tyler reached in a cabinet and gave me a large bowl.

  “Thanks, sweetie.” I ripped open the warm bag, dumped the contents into the bowl, and handed it to Tyler.

  “Save me a place on the sofa,” I said.

  Tyler and Hunter scooted out of the room with the bowl, their mouths already full of popcorn.

  “Holly, would you like a glass of wine? Sharon brought a nice red. I just opened the bottle.”

  I owed Leslie twenty dollars.

  “No, thanks. I’ll just have some ice water,” I said, adding, “And Sharon, I brought you a jar of my honey-covered pecans. It’s good on everything.”

  She took the jar, which also irked me, and studied the label.

  “How sweet!” she said, so disingenuously it made me almost sick. “Did you make this yourself? It’s so quaint!”

  “Holly is a beekeeper, and this honey is from her bees,” Archie said.

  “Oh, my God in heaven!” Sharon said. “You actually have bees next door?”

  “Yeah, quite a few, actually,” I said.

  “Why?” she said. “I mean, I know they’re supposed to help things grow and all that, but aren’t they a lot of work? And don’t you worry about them attacking you?”

  “These are honey bees. They don’t sting unless they are provoked. They’re vegetarian. And they’re pretty self-sustaining.”

  “Aren’t there any laws on this island to protect citizens from bees?”

  Archie looked at me se
mi-apologetically. “Well, I’ve lived here for years and so have the bees, and none of us have been stung.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her and said, “I think anybody who knows anything about honey bees would say the benefits eclipse the risks by a margin about as wide as the Grand Canyon.”

  “Still,” she said. “Who keeps bees?”

  I took a deep breath and thought, This is worse than I thought.

  “Well, Charles Darwin, Augustus, Charlemagne, George Washington, Virgil, Tolstoy, Sylvia Plath, and Martha Stewart,” I said and took a sip of water. “To name a few.”

  “By the way, Holly, your beef stew was a hit! We inhaled it,” Archie said. “Thanks again.”

  “Well, thanks! I’m so glad!”

  “Wait! You cook their supper? What are you? A caterer?” Sharon said, and I could see she was growing suspicious of me.

  “Only to a very small and select few,” I said.

  There was screaming from the other room. The Lakers had scored and the boys were jumping on the sofa.

  “Settle down in there!” Archie shouted.

  “I like to cook,” Sharon said to Archie. “I’ll make dinner for you this week if you’d like.”

  “Would you?” he said. “What night?”

  “Which night works best for you?” she said.

  Archie looked at her in that way, the way that told me there was hot mischief afoot. Her hooks were in deep. They were already sleeping together. I knew it in my bones. And there I stood like the proverbial third wheel. Neither one of them seemed to be aware they had an audience.

  “Well, when you get that worked out, let me know and I’ll watch the boys for you,” I said.

  “Oh!” Archie said, regaining consciousness. “Thanks!”

  “How sweet! You’ve got a little nanny, a tutor, and a chef all rolled into one,” Sharon said. “And you’ve got me! Aren’t you lucky!”

  “I am,” he said.

  I thought I was going to die.

  “I’m just going to go watch the game now,” I said.

  I was thoroughly disgusted. But now that I had a clear picture, I had another problem. Sharon’s behavior made me realize how much I cared about Archie. I could see he was heading toward something serious with her. I really, and I mean really, did not want this condescending, arrogant, awful woman to be front and center in Archie’s life and most certainly did not want her in the boys’ life, either. At all.

  I got to the living room reasonably composed, or so I thought, and sat on the sofa in between the boys. They were completely engrossed with the game. But in moments, Tyler sensed that I was seething.

  “Was I right?” he said.

  I wasn’t about to engage in gossip with a seven-year-old boy about the woman who might become his stepmother, but I was sorely tempted.

  I just said, “Tyler, these things are hard to figure out sometimes.”

  And he nodded his head in solemn agreement. A simple answer satisfied him. He knew me well enough, even from where he stood in his young years, to know that I agreed with him. His instincts were excellent. There was nothing to be done about Archie and Sharon. It was going to have to play itself out. I was, after all, the nanny, the cook, the tutor, and nothing more.

  Archie and Sharon made an appearance in the living room and soon retreated back to the kitchen where they could talk and be alone. Apparently, Sharon wasn’t much of a Lakers fan or a sports enthusiast. I didn’t live and die for ball games either, but I loved the occasional basketball game because it was fast and exciting and you could see the faces of the players.

  I stayed until the third quarter, when it became clear the Lakers were wiping the floor with Atlanta. I gave the boys a hug and stuck my nose in the kitchen to sign off with Archie and to semi-acknowledge Sharon’s prowess.

  As I walked home, I knew in my heart that I was no threat to Sharon. And that hurt. Archie was as good as married, and I was going to have that hateful woman as my next-door neighbor forever. And the boys? Oh, this was going to be bad.

  Leslie was waiting up for me.

  “Glass of vino?” she asked.

  “Sure,” I said. “This is getting to be a habit.”

  She poured me a glass and put it in front of me.

  “These are stressful times,” she said.

  “Cheers,” I said. “I owe you twenty dollars.”

  “Cheers. Figures. How did it go?” she asked quietly because my face probably said it all.

  I told her every single detail I could remember.

  “This woman is insufferable. Even Tyler thinks so.”

  “He’s too young to have an opinion.”

  “Yes, but there’s nothing wrong with his judgment of character. I’m so worried, Leslie.”

  “This could head south very quickly,” she said with concern, agreeing about the urgency of the situation.

  “I’m telling you, Archie is down the rabbit hole,” I said. “From the looks of things, I’d guess she’s screwing him every time she sees him. They’re all over each other. I watched the game in the living room with the boys while they drooled all over each other in the kitchen.”

  “What can we do about it?” Leslie said.

  “I don’t know. Here’s the thing. It’s the boys. This woman doesn’t give a damn about children. Those boys are going to suffer. And it won’t be long until Archie’s miserable.”

  Leslie was quiet then. She was thinking about Hunter and Tyler’s welfare. If Leslie knew anything about me, it was that I adored those kids. And even though Leslie wasn’t crazy about having her own children, at least so far, she certainly understood crisply how they could be compromised if Archie married the wrong person.

  She looked up with a huge grin on her face.

  “I’ve got it!” she said. “I’ve got the solution!”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to seduce the shit out of him and wreck their relationship!”

  She was so pleased with herself and her marvelous scheme. I was less so. And, excuse me, why was she so confident that she could waltz right into Archie’s life?

  “What? What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I’ll take one for the team.”

  “Really? Can you do that?” Just how far was she willing to go? Knowing her, she’d go as far as it took. I wasn’t so sure I liked her plan, but I couldn’t think of a better one. “What if he doesn’t want to fool around with somebody else?”

  “Please! He’s a man, isn’t he? I’ve yet to see one say no. Watch him resist. Watch and learn, little sister.”

  “I don’t know, Leslie. This could really backfire. I mean, if he’s in love with her and tells her what you’re up to, they could put the house on the market and move to Timbuktu.”

  “Let’s sleep on it and talk some more tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  We said good night and I slept like a stone, but morning came early. I tossed and turned a bit, watching the rising sun creeping up through the slats of my blinds. I was remembering the previous night and Leslie’s plan. Maybe she was right. I was never going to have Archie. But maybe we could stop Sharon from having him, for the sake of the boys. I wasn’t pleased one bit with the idea of Leslie putting the moves on Archie. But I’d do anything to get Sharon out of the picture, so I swallowed my damaged pride.

  I finally got up and dressed and poured myself a giant mug of coffee. Momma and Leslie still slept. I took my disappointment out to the bees in the haze of early morning’s light and told them everything I was worried about. I know it may sound peculiar to say this, but I felt better when I unburdened my heart to them. In my whole life, there had only been two men I’d ever loved: my father and Archie. Both had broken my heart.

  I don’t want to seem melodramatic, but there were things I just didn’t understand about men and never would. How could our father put himself so far ahead of the needs of his daughters? How could Archie do the same thing to his sons? Look at Leslie, Dad. Take a good look at what yo
u did to her. Who did she choose as a partner? And me? I chose an older man who rejected me before he had a chance to consider me. I wasn’t even worthy of consideration. Thanks, Archie. Nice job, Dad. Nice job.

  “Things happen when they are supposed to, you know,” Archie said.

  “I don’t know about that,” I said.

  “There’s an Indian dude, Srikumar Rao, who said, ‘When the flower blossoms, the bee will come.’ ”

  “Oh, please,” I said.

  Chapter Nine

  Leslie Takes the Mike

  I had given our seduction idea a lot of solid thought and come to a few conclusions. I’d had enough of my own pathetic marriage to justify trying to stop someone else from making the same mistake. And I knew it was probably immoral to execute the plan as it stood, the actual seduction, I mean. I decided to see how it might take shape, you know, get a sense of where Archie’s mind was, and then I’d worry about the morality of it all.

  Holly was deeply upset for more reasons than one and I felt it as though it was happening to me. It was awful to see my little sister be rejected by the only man I’d ever seen her have an interest in. Even though I wasn’t itching for children and there was a chance I never would, I had a healthy respect for Holly’s desire to see these kids be happy.

  Holly was right. If Archie married this horror show, they would have to do whatever Sharon told them to do. And if she had children—well, we’ve all read “Cinderella.” It could be a sad situation for the boys. If they gave her too much trouble, they’d wind up at Camden Military Academy, or worse. But in any and all cases, if Archie sealed the deal with her, she’d be able to wield a ridiculous amount of power. According to Holly, Sharon made no effort to endear herself to Archie’s boys. I believed her and wondered why Archie wasn’t thinking about that.

  So, how exactly was I to begin? A lot of naughty ideas floated across my mind and I finally settled on one. I’d start with timing, going outside to get the morning newspaper in a flimsy nightgown when Archie was leaving his house. So I stood at the window and watched and waited. At seven fifteen, his door opened, and he stepped onto his porch. I hurried down the steps and saw Holly was way out, deep in the backyard with her hives, cooing with the bees. Then I leaned over to pick up our paper, giving Archie a clear view of an option to Sharon. I know, I hadn’t even met her, but this was war. And remember? All’s fair? Then I stood up and pretended to be embarrassed, as Archie was staring at me like I was naked, which I practically was.