Queen Bee

by Dorothea Benton Frank

  “You won’t believe what just happened,” I said to Momma and Leslie.

  “Wait until a commercial, okay?” Momma said. “I’m watching this and I can’t hear with you yakking.”

  When I told them, Momma shrugged her shoulders and Leslie looked at me like I had lost large parts of my mind.

  “You don’t seriously believe that you told the bees some trash about Sharon and then as a direct result of that conversation . . .”

  “A few thousand of them did a little poop on her car. Maybe the bombing was deliberate. I don’t know how the bees understood what I was so upset about, but I’d bet every dollar to my name that they did.”

  Well, naturally, the next day I reported Sharon’s reaction to the poopers themselves.

  “Look, I don’t know what’s happening here, but if y’all pooped on her car deliberately, I’m gonna plant you so much Culver’s root and goldenrod you won’t believe it!”

  Honey bees loved anything with a purple flower. Culver’s root was a spiky plant I’d put in near the edges of our marshy backyard. And goldenrod, native to our area, bloomed in a magnificent shade of yellow. The bees swarmed both species, so I knew they had a high-quality nectar and pollen. Christmas would come early for my girls.

  “I just want to make you all happy! Even if you didn’t do this on my behalf, thank you! Thank you!”

  After the bombing of Sharon’s car there was a short period of relative peace. I would see the boys a couple of times a week, and sometimes they’d wait at our house for either Archie or Sharon to come home from work. But they had certainly lost a lot of their spark. They were downright sullen.

  “Is everything all right at home?” I finally asked.

  “It’s okay,” Tyler said. “I’ll be in college in ten years. I’ll survive.”

  That wouldn’t do. Maybe my bees needed another cleansing flight.

  “Why do they call her the queen bee?” Hunter said.

  “Well, I think it might be because she’s everybody’s mother,” I said.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Expanding Horizons

  School would be out for the summer in mid-May. I knew Tyler had a birthday coming up in June, and I was already thinking about the cake I had promised him. My thought was to replicate the island’s playground, because we’d had so much fun there while Archie and Sharon were away on that fabulous romantic honeymoon of theirs. I was thinking of using a whole sheet cake covered with green icing on the top to represent grass. I’d ice the sides in waves of blue, to make it seem like the water around our island. I’d already started looking for Lego sets that looked like playground equipment. I could make shrubs and children and even dogs of marzipan and tiny flowers of tissue. I was pretty excited. It was a lot more exciting than Happy Birthday from the Gang! on a ten-inch round that, depending on how you cut it, serves ten to fourteen.

  When Carin was alive and one of the boys had a birthday, she’d have their whole class over, including their parents. I could still see Carin’s beautiful face, flushed with joy as she replenished pitcher after pitcher of sweet tea and lemonade. Or as she stood in the sun, holding her hair back from her face because of a stiff breeze while she listened intently to another parent telling her whatever it was that concerned her. And I could see Archie, grilling hot dogs and burgers by the score, stopping to shake hands with this parent or that one or leaning down to take a special request from one of the children. Carin and Archie couldn’t do enough to fete their birthday boys like princes.

  I hoped the tradition would continue, because I felt like the more things went on as they had been, the easier it might be for the boys to continue to adjust to and move past all the traumatic changes.

  Leslie and Charlie continued to correspond, and the date of his lip-sync competition grew closer. She came to the conclusion that she wasn’t going to go to Las Vegas for this whatever-it-was. But she was developing a broader view on the whole subject.

  We were sitting on the porch in the dark, waiting for the stars to come out, just solving humanity’s problems.

  “Think about Dame Edna,” she said to me. “That Australian guy? And what about that whole Monty Python gang? They were always dressing up as women. It doesn’t mean a thing!”

  “That’s true,” I said. I had to agree with her about them.

  “And they’re hilarious! It turns out that as Cher, Charlie is hilarious. I mean, who knew?”

  “Really? How weird is that? Like Clark Kent has superpowers when he’s wearing his cape?”

  “Sort of. But yeah.”

  “The human mind is fascinating. If I had it to do over again I might be a neurologist or a psychiatrist. You going out tonight?”

  “No, I think I need to spend some time really thinking about where my marriage is going. You know? And what do I want my future to look like?”

  “You say that like you’re in charge of it,” I said.

  “What? My future? Of course, I’m in charge. And, darlin’ Holly, if you don’t think you’re in charge of yours, we’ve got a lot of talking to do.”

  “I could probably use some direction, because I think I may have painted myself into a corner.”

  “Well, then, we’ll have to find a way for you to paint yourself out. I mean, your life should make sense. Example, if you look at Charlie’s new lifestyle objectively, you can break it down to the point where it makes perfect sense,” she said.

  “Oh, please. Let me hear this new slant on the world,” I said.

  “Well, let’s start with the things Charlie never told me about his childhood,” she said.

  “Wait a minute, I want to check the sky.” I got up, stepped outside, and looked up. Only half the stars were visible, so I went back to my rocker. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Well, he was attracted to pretty things—you know, jewelry, perfume, or just good smells in general.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, fresh baskets of laundry that were still warm. He didn’t like the smell of people’s sweat. Apparently, when he got around anyone working in the yard in the heat of summer or around his father after a long tennis match, the smell of body odor made him nauseated.”

  “Can’t say I’m a fan, either,” I said.

  “Well, anyway, that extended into high school. You can imagine, the locker room was disgusting to him. He had no desire to play sports other than tennis or golf. He was drawn to music and theater and the arts. On and on it goes. Dad’s wool suits were scratchy. Mom’s silk dresses were super nice to touch. Trying them on was even better.”

  “Where are we headed here?” I said.

  “He was just simply never comfortable in the role of All-American Boy. But All-American Girl didn’t appeal to him, either. He says he always felt stuck somewhere in the middle. He always liked girls and was attracted to girls and girl things. And he loved musical theater, especially when he was cast in something that required costumes and makeup—like pirates or some Greek play where they wore togas. It was why he became the drum major in our marching band. And, gosh, he was so good at it. Do you remember?”

  “That’s true. I remember him being all enthusiastic and twirling that big baton down the center of the football field at halftime. Always smiling. Yeah, he was a natural for that job. And I’ve gotta say that he was the most spirited drum major I’ve ever seen. He got everyone up and out of their seats, cheering like crazy!”

  “That’s just it. It makes him so happy to be somebody else for a while, especially if it involves impersonation of a big female star. I don’t want to deny him that. Who’s getting hurt?”

  “No one, as far as I can see.”

  “I think he’s just having fun. You know, you talk to bees. That honey you harvest gives you a thrill. Lucky for you that your thrills are within the boundaries of society’s norms. There are so many people who suffer. You know, all the stigma, bias, and even hate crimes when all they’re trying to do is be happy and not hurt anyone else.”

  “So
you think Charlie’s really a straight guy who just likes feminine things?”

  “Yeah. I think this is how he was wired. Charlie is a good guy and we really love each other. But there are going to have to be some concessions.”

  “I understand. Like showing up at the wedding, uninvited and unannounced, all glammed up?”

  “Exactly. I’m thinking if I could tell myself that when he dresses up, he’s putting on his work clothes, like a costume, then maybe we could work something out. There’s a time and place for everything, right?”

  I didn’t say a word. I could only imagine what she had put herself through to come to that conclusion.

  “I don’t know if that is how this works, Leslie. It may be that he wants to be Charlene more and more. Or it could be that Charlene gets boring and he’d prefer to be Charles. In a smoking jacket. With velvet slippers. I have no idea. But I sure do admire the hell out of you for trying so hard to find a solution. This is not your regular marital problem.”

  “I know, but I can’t just throw us away, you know?”

  “I know. You shouldn’t. And look, not everybody wants to be a stevedore. People come in every size, color, and way we can imagine.”

  “Well, that’s sort of the way I’m seeing it,” she said.

  “Look, you’re my sister. Whatever you want to do, you know I’m going to support your decision.”

  This may not have looked like progress to the conventional world, but it was. Leslie had gone from an emphatic this ain’t happening no more to a let’s talk about it. Even Momma was going through some kind of evolution in her thoughts.

  “I give my girl a lot of credit,” she said over coffee the next morning.

  “Yeah? How come?” I said and peeled four strips of bacon into my favorite cast-iron skillet.

  “Because she’s willing to really dive into this and try to resolve something instead of just running away, although she did have a couple of runaway nights there.”

  “Momma!” I said. “I think it would be best to view those few indiscretions another way, like maybe therapeutic?”

  “If you say so. Want to bring in the paper? I forgot.”

  “Sure,” I said. “I’ll be right back. Watch the bacon for me, okay?”

  I went outside and picked up the paper and here came Archie with the boys. Another day was beginning.

  “Good morning! Not much school left!”

  “Nope!” Tyler called out. “Five more days!”

  “Freedom!” Hunter yelled.

  “In the car,” Archie said. “How are you, Holly? I haven’t seen much of you lately.”

  “You mean since my bees dropped their you-know-what on Sharon’s car?”

  “That was unfortunate,” he said. “And of course, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Duh, Archie.” I gave him a smirk. “So, listen. That young man in your back seat is having a b-day soon, if I recall. Is there a party? Can I do the cake?”

  Tyler had a huge grin on his face.

  “Gonna be eight!”

  “I know! That’s so amazing!” I said.

  Archie got the funniest look on his face.

  “It’s probably best if you discuss that with Sharon,” he said.

  I wanted to talk to Sharon like I wanted to have dinner with Satan and all his buddies.

  “Well, maybe just ask her to let me know,” I said. “Y’all have a great day!”

  I turned and walked over to our house and climbed the steps without looking back. So that’s how it was now? Sharon was the go-to person? I told myself if I didn’t hear from her in a few days, I’d go over and see what the story was.

  “What kept you so long?” Momma said. “Your bacon is done.”

  I told her about our exchange. She shook her head.

  “Will you pour me some more coffee, please?” she said. “Sharon is the worst.”

  I refilled her cup and said, “This is news?”

  Leslie walked into the kitchen, took a mug, and filled it.

  “G’morning! What’s going on?” she said.

  We told her the story and she rolled her eyes somewhere up in her head.

  “Oh, God. It’s always going to be something with that beast,” she said. “And she’s cut off Archie’s cojones. He’s going to go along with whatever she wants.”

  I thought it was funny that Momma used to be the beast. Now Sharon was. But why was Archie letting Sharon call the shots?

  “It’s a shame,” Momma said. “Such a shame. Do you think you might share your bacon, Holly?”

  “Sure,” I said and gave her half of what I’d fried. “You want toast?”

  “I think I would,” Momma said. “Thank you.”

  Hello? Who are you aliens that took my mother? Can you keep her? This one’s halfway nice.

  “You’re welcome,” I said and dropped two slices of white bread in the toaster.

  “I’ve gotta go and pack,” Leslie said.

  “Really? Where are you going?” Momma said.

  “Vegas, to see my husband. I’ll be back Sunday,” she said. “He has been begging me to come since the first day he got there.”

  “Well, you tell him I said, if we’re going to have a female impersonator in the family,” Momma said, “he’d better be the best damn one the world has ever seen!”

  “Oh, Momma!” Leslie said. “That is like the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  I thought I had better go lie down.

  Leslie left for Las Vegas, and I didn’t hear anything from Sharon over the next three days, so I took a deep breath and called Sharon that night. She answered on the first ring, but I didn’t read anything into that.

  “Sharon? Hey, it’s me, Holly.”

  “Hi, Holly. What’s going on?”

  “Not much. How are y’all doing?”

  “Great, thanks.”

  “So I was just thinking about Tyler’s birthday. It’s right around the corner.”

  “I’m aware,” she said.

  Ooooh, boy. I thought. This is not going to go down as I had hoped.

  “I’d like to make a cake for him and I wanted to make sure it was all right with you.”

  “Of course! By all means. Make him a cake. That’s very nice of you.”

  “Well, I’m delighted to do it. So, if you could just tell me how many people you’re expecting at his party so there’s enough to go around.”

  “Let’s see. Well, my parents, so that’s two, my aunt and uncle, so that’s four, Archie, me naturally, and of course the boys. That’s eight.”

  I was a little stunned.

  “What about Tyler’s friends?”

  “You mean you’re thinking we should have fifty children running around, screaming and making a mess? No, no. In my family, birthdays are strictly for family only. I would send cupcakes to school, but school is out for the summer.”

  “I see. Okay then. I’ll make a cake for eight.”

  “With a little extra for my family to take home.”

  “Sure thing.” Was she kidding? “What day are y’all celebrating?” It was all I could do to hide the disappointment in my voice.

  “Oh, I think Sunday afternoon would be nice, say early dinnertime?”

  “Okay, I’ll drop it off after church.”

  His actual birthday was Thursday. What in the world was going through her head? What planet was she from? She was all set to deny Tyler a birthday party with his friends when every single child in his class had a party. But Tyler should celebrate four days late with her parents? I was furious. There was nothing I could do. Nothing. Except, I told my bees.

  “There’s no fourth floor in the Nobu Hotel,” Charlie said.

  “Why not?” I said.

  “Because in Asia the number four is bad luck, and in this town they don’t tempt luck!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Leslie and Cher

  I am telling you that when I got off the plane in Las Vegas I thought I would die from the spectacle of
it all. There were slot machines all over the airport and a kind of excitement in the air I’d never felt before. You could see the anticipation in the faces of arriving passengers that they were about to have the vacation of their lives. And win a fortune. And others waiting at gates filled with disappointment.

  I spent a little time talking to a guy next to me on the plane, and he said he came to Las Vegas all the time. He said every night he’d see a show, have a big dinner, and then go to the casinos. Every night would be different entertainment, a different restaurant, and another casino. He was meeting his brother there, who was coming from just north of San Francisco. They did this every year without their wives, just the two of them. I thought, Well, why not? But Las Vegas didn’t really hold a lot of appeal for me. Okay, I’d never been there, but gambling wasn’t my thing. I was doing this for Charlie. My sweet Charlie.

  And Charlie was excited. He met me in baggage claim and was talking nonstop.

  “Kiss kiss!” He kissed my cheeks and continued. “How was your flight? Don’t you look wonderful! Do you have luggage?”

  “No, just this roller,” I said.

  “Well, did you eat? Are you starving? The Mexican food in this town is AH-mazing! Or would you like sushi? I could always eat sushi.”

  “I’m fine, Charlie. I ate.”

  “Okay, well then, let’s get a move on!”

  He took my roller and I followed him through the terminal and out to the parking garage. He was walking so fast I could hardly keep up with him.

  “Charlie! Slow down!”

  “Oh, sorry, Leslie. I guess I’m excited to show you everything.”

  “Well, so far, even the airport is pretty colorful!”

  Charlie stopped at an unfamiliar car, a bright red Toyota RAV4, unlocked it, and raised the hatch door. He put my suitcase in and slammed it shut.

  “New car?” I said. Charlie usually drove a luxury car, so I was a little surprised.

  “Yeah, a new car for the new me.”

  I thought, Oh boy, exactly who is this new me going to turn out to be?

  “So the climate here is one of the best things to recommend it. I mean, it’s hot like hell in July, but it’s hot in Maine in July, isn’t it?”