Suzanne rang the doorbell promptly at eight.
“Hello, lovelies! Our gondola awaits! Don’t you look chic, Miss Katherine?” she said to Momma.
“You may address me as Queen Bee, or Miss QB!” the QB said with the most mirth I’d ever seen her show in my entire adult life. “Are we ready, ladies?”
“We are,” Charlene/Charlie said.
We stepped outside. Suzanne drove a 1960 convertible Cadillac. It was jet black and as long as a city block. The rear end featured shark fins, and its interior was white leather with red piping. It was a treasure.
“Wow!” I said. “What a fabulous car!”
“Thanks, honey. She’s my fave. I got her from Jay Leno.” Suzanne touched her fender with tenderness. “Okay! Our first stop is the Venetian! I have a reservation for us at Sushi Samba. You’ll love it. It’s absolutely divine.”
“Sushi?” Momma said.
She wouldn’t eat raw fish on a bet. Suzanne sensed Momma’s concern.
“There’s also Bouchon or Morels if you would prefer,” she said.
“Oh, that’s okay,” Momma said. “I’m sure there’s something on the menu for me.”
And off we went into the night.
We gave the car to the valet service and entered yet another world. The lobby of the Venetian was unlike anything I’d ever seen, even in the movies. Opulent would not begin to cover it. The Uffizi Gallery in Florence was a total snore next to this. The ceilings were indescribably high, vaulted, painted with murals, trimmed in gold; there were mirrors everywhere, fountains, and, of course, the Grand Canal, complete with gondoliers. Whew! Momma and I were simply dumbfounded.
“Holy Michelangelo, Batman! We’re not in Gotham anymore!” Momma said.
We stopped dead in our tracks and looked at her.
“Momma? Did you just make a Batman joke?” I said.
“It’s a good one,” Suzanne said.
“Thank you,” the QB said.
Charlene and I exchanged looks of surprise. It seemed that Momma’s younger personality, the light and carefree one, might have been resurrected.
We found the restaurant and were taken to our seats immediately. Suzanne ordered sake for all of us.
“Don’t let this stuff fool you,” she said. “It’s potent.”
The menu at Sushi Samba had just about everything in the world on it. A lot of it could have been written in Greek, unless you ate Japanese food frequently and knew the terminology.
Suzanne said, “Why don’t I just order for the table and everyone can help themselves to some of everything?”
We all said that sounded fine to us, as Suzanne had been coming here for ages. So she quickly began to rattle off our order to our server. She ordered edamame and Berkshire pork belly ramen to begin. Next, she ordered toro, hamachi, unagi, udama, and uni. Those were all various creatures coming to us straight from the sea. Then she ordered some traditional rolls and two kinds of tempura.
“You must be very hungry,” said our waiter.
Suzanne twisted up the side of her mouth and looked at him and said, “Yes, as a matter of fact. We are.”
The food began to arrive, platter after platter.
“It’s too pretty to eat,” Momma said.
“Oh, darling,” Suzanne said. “Take a picture with your iPhone and just dig in!”
I pulled mine out and recorded the moment for posterity. And I snapped pictures of Charlene, the QB, and Suzanne.
The warm sake was replenished over and over.
With just a little coaxing from Suzanne, Momma ate tuna sashimi and loved it.
“How come I never knew about tuna . . . what do you call this?” she said, and I laughed. Momma’s eyes were being opened to the larger world, bit by bit.
“Sashimi,” Charlene said.
“No more calls,” Suzanne said. “We just lost a virgin.”
Momma gave Suzanne the hairy eyeball. And Suzanne burst into laughter.
“I love a woman with some spunk!”
“Delicious,” she said and turned to me. “I’d like a picture of me eating this. Do you think you can manage that?”
“That sounded pretty harsh, darling,” Suzanne said. “Is everything all right?”
“It did?” Momma said. Then she turned to me and said, “I just want to remember this night and I began to panic that after dinner it would all be over. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Momma! Smile big! Charlene, you and Suzanne get in the picture, too! One, two, three!” I clicked the button a few times.
“The night’s young, Miss QB,” Charlene said.
“And miles to go before I sleep!” Suzanne said.
“Robert Frost?” Momma said.
“Whose woods these are I think I know . . . ?”
Suzanne recited the whole poem “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening,” and Momma fell in love a little more.
“Miss QB? Here’s another fun fact. Every single day of the year sixty thousand pounds of shrimp are consumed in Las Vegas. That’s more than the rest of the country combined!” Suzanne looked from face to face, seeking a bit of acknowledgment.
“Oh, please,” Charlene said. “Suzanne wins every trivia night contest in Nevada!”
“Yes, I do!” Suzanne said. “Ask me anything.”
“Tell us the weirdest thing you’ve ever heard,” I said.
“Hmmm,” she said. “That’s a tough one. Okay, here’s something. How about in 1980, they had to suspend a bunch of hospital workers for betting on when a patient would die? And a nurse was actually arrested for murder, having killed a patient so she could win? How weird is that?”
“That’s out there,” Charlene said.
“If that’s not the work of the devil, what is?” the QB said. “Is there more sake?”
“Yes, but the larger question is,” Charlene said, refilling Momma’s cup, “do y’all want to ride the gondola down the Grand Canal indoors or outdoors?”
We finished all the sake and almost everything else, paid the bill, and made our way to the gondola passenger station.
“Thank you, Suzanne. That was absolutely fantastic!”
“Not exactly Shem Creek, is it?” I said.
“No. It’s another world,” Momma said in agreement.
Suzanne bought tickets for us, and after a few false starts and more than a few promises to save her if she fell in, we finally got the QB into the gondola, too. It was doing some serious wobbling. But then, to be honest, Suzanne was no skinny Minnie, either.
“I thought we were going to lose you there for a moment,” Suzanne said. “Come on now, sit right here next to me.”
As we drifted along the Grand Canal, Momma was strangely quiet, but smiling, and she seemed awfully happy. She was probably half in the bag, I thought.
“What are you thinking about?” I heard Suzanne ask Momma.
“I’m thinking this is my wildest dream, except I’m alive and in it, and how in the world would we top this?”
“Well, there’s the zip line on top of the Rio Hotel at the Voodoo. I was thinking we could knock back a couple of Witch Doctors and go for it,” Suzanne said.
“Witch Doctors?” the QB said.
“House cocktail,” Charlene said.
“Zip line?” the QB said.
“Yes, they put you in a harness four hundred feet above the ground and then you jump off the roof and go thirty-three miles an hour for a third of a mile. When it stops, you return to the roof facing backward,” Suzanne said. “It’s lots of fun and very safe.”
“You must be as crazy as every devil in hell to do something like that,” the QB said. “I think I’d rather just drink a Witch Doctor. That sounds more sensible to me.”
We all laughed at that.
“They have another cocktail that’s really famous,” Suzanne said. “It’s called the Love Potion.”
“Is Suzanne gay?” I whispered to Charlene. “Because he’s acting very straight.”
“Suzanne? Oh,
no! He’s totally straight. He’s just a female impersonator, like me. He always wanted to be the next Dame Edna. But then, who doesn’t?”
More than a few people, I thought.
“Yeah, well,” I said, certain then that I had seen it all, “the next Dame Edna is kissing on your mother-in-law!”
And the QB was loving it. There was no one I could tell who would believe it.
“Okay, so here’s a really fun bee fact. Honey is nectar that has been chewed and regurgitated over and over!” I said.
“Ewwwww! Bee barf!” Hunter said.
“That’s right,” I said.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Gone Boys
Little boys are fragile creatures. In our society we rear them to rise above emotional outbursts, to be the stronger sex, to bravely go to war, even though women make up about 20 percent of our armed forces now. But inside their hearts, all small humans are the same—tender and sweet and in need of just as much guidance in forming values and learning manners, and for someone to shape their ambition, hear what’s on their heart, and do something about it. They are just trying to navigate their way into the world, and it’s impossible to do it alone and do it well. Children need advocates.
The terrible truth of Tyler and Hunter’s new reality was that they had no advocate. Sharon, in a short span of time, had moved into their lives and manipulated everyone in such a way that any disagreement about the slightest thing was deemed a betrayal and punished.
There was too much sadness in them, and Archie refused to see it. And with every passing day those boys came to me, I could see their zest for life diminishing. I would try to cheer them, but eventually I realized it was to no avail. They could not be cheered. They had all but stopped complaining about Sharon because they said they knew nothing was going to change.
They were at my house while Sharon and Archie went shopping for a new mattress. Had they already worn out the one they had?
“I’m just trying to get through the summer. Someday, I’ll never have to see her again,” Tyler said.
“I can’t even look at her,” Hunter said.
“Have you had a boys’ night out with your dad?”
“We were supposed to, but then she found some reason why he couldn’t go,” Tyler said.
“Oh, who cares?” Hunter said. “He’d rather be with her anyway.”
“You know, boys,” I said, “it’s not unusual for newlyweds to want to be alone a lot of the time.”
“That’s not the problem. The problem is there’s no room for us,” Tyler said.
“No, the problem is,” Hunter said, “we’re not welcome.”
“That’s absurd,” I said, having heard enough. “And I have to tell you, I don’t think it’s true. It may be somewhat true on certain days in certain situations, but it can’t be entirely true. If it was, you’d be heading to a boarding school.”
“So now you don’t believe us?” Tyler said.
“Tyler? You both know I love y’all from the bottom of my heart, don’t you?”
They said, “Yeah, we know.”
“What I’m seeing from where I stand is different than what you see. I see that you are having a really terrible time trying to adjust to your dad’s marriage. And I see that you both are looking for solutions and can’t find them. It’s not an unusual problem, do you know that?”
“Not really,” Tyler said.
“Yeah,” Hunter said.
“Well, we need a solution, because I can’t take your unhappiness much longer,” I said, and then thought it probably wasn’t the most empathetic thing I’d ever said. “What’s your plan for this weekend?”
“Nothing,” they said.
“Okay, so why don’t I call Maureen and see if we can’t go over for a swim or all of us maybe go to a movie?”
“Okay. If she’ll let us go.”
“I’ll ask her. So, for now, do y’all want to make milk shakes?”
That perked them up, and I said a little prayer of thanksgiving.
“Do you want to scoop the ice cream?” I said to Hunter.
I didn’t tell him it was frozen yogurt.
“Yeah!” he said.
Frozen yogurt, milk, chocolate syrup, ice, and a shot of vanilla went into our blender and Tyler flipped the switch. The blender made so much noise, you couldn’t hear yourself think. The next thing I knew, Archie was standing in my kitchen. When we turned the blender off we turned to see him there.
“I guess you couldn’t hear me knocking,” he said.
“Hi, Dad,” Tyler said.
“You’re right! We didn’t,” I said. “Would you like a part of a chocolate milk shake?”
“Does this mean we have to go home?” Hunter said.
“I’d love a swallow or two,” Archie said. “I haven’t had a milk shake in probably twenty years.”
Tyler, sensing a good mood in his father, quickly got another glass and said, “Then you have to have one! It’s the best!”
Hunter said, “Miss Holly’s milk shake is better than McDonald’s!”
I poured a glass for Archie and he took a sip.
“This is amazing! Why have I deprived myself all these years?”
“Have a seat!” I said.
Tyler said, “Give Dad the rest and me and my brother . . .”
“My brother and I . . .” I said, correcting his grammar.
“My brother and I can make another one.”
“Have at it!” I said. “You know what to do.”
Archie and I watched as Hunter and Tyler put all the ingredients into the blender, covered it, and turned it on. The high-pitched noise was deafening as the hard ice was crunched over and over by the blades and turned into snow, thickening the shake. When the racket died down, they turned the blender off. I got up to help them pour.
“That’s heavy,” I said. “Let me give you a hand.”
I poured the creamy shake out into three glasses and refilled Archie’s glass with the balance.
“Well, isn’t everyone having a party this afternoon?”
We looked up to see Sharon in the doorway.
“We just made milk shakes. Can we offer you one?” I said.
“You must be kidding,” she said. “Do you know how many calories are in those things?”
I wanted to say, A simple no thank you would’ve been nicer. But I didn’t.
“It’s delicious,” Tyler said.
Sharon looked at him and did not respond. Instead, she took a bite out of Archie.
“I sent you over here to get them and instead I find you here all cozy.”
“That’s right,” Archie said. “I am enjoying a moment with my boys. Is that all right with you?”
She was so flustered because he didn’t jump up and kiss her behind and grab the boys by the neck and drag them out into the street that she turned on her heel and flounced out of the house.
“Bye-bye, Sharon,” I said and gave a tiny wave to the thin air. “See ya.”
Tyler started laughing. Then Hunter got the giggles.
Archie looked at me and said, “She can be a little demanding.”
“Really?” I said. “I hadn’t noticed.” I’d had it with him. I was furious.
Now Tyler and Hunter became hysterical laughing.
“Calm down, boys. You’re going to make yourselves sick!” I said.
Archie stood up. “Well, it’s time to go home and face the music.”
“Thanks, Miss Holly!” the boys said together.
I said to them, “You boys run ahead. I want to talk to your dad.”
They put their glasses in the sink and ran out of the house.
“So, Archie?”
“I know, I know,” he said. “Marry in haste, repent at leisure.”
“Well, there’s that, but I was thinking of something else.”
“What?”
“Where is your spine?”
“What?” He looked very annoyed.
“Just what I said
. You can’t let Sharon continue like this. She’s a tyrant! The boys can’t have a milk shake? You should go tell Miss Perfect that they were made with skim milk, frozen yogurt, sugar-free chocolate, and Sullivan’s Island ice cubes, which might or might not be the most suspicious ingredient.”
“I’ll tell her.”
“You’re missing the point, Archie.”
“What?”
“Your boys are depressed. They need help. Professional help. I’m not kidding.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Ask yourself this. Are they enjoying their summer? Who’s taking them swimming? Who’s having their friends for sleepovers? Or camping out in the backyard? Where’s their vacation?”
“I think they’re doing fine. This has been a tough adjustment.”
“My point is this. They’re not adjusting, and I really think that if you can’t bring yourself to stand up to Sharon, you need to take them to see someone who can teach them coping skills.”
“Well, I’ll think about what you’ve said.”
With that, he got up and left. I realized a few minutes after he left that he was seething with anger. I had said some outrageous things. I knew that. But if I didn’t tell him, who would? Well, guess what? I was seething, too. I went out to my yard and saw that my dahlias were beginning to open. They were already astonishing. I checked my bees’ pans for water. It was as hot as the hinges on the back door of hell. Sometimes late afternoons were more unbearable than midday. I refilled the pans and muttered to myself and the bees.
“This woman is a scourge. She has got to be stopped before she totally ruins this family. But what can I do? Nothing!”
Later in the afternoon, I turned on my sprinklers and went back inside. If I ever won the lottery I was going to put in an irrigation system. On a timer.
I went back inside, and a few minutes later I heard a woman’s voice screaming. Where was it coming from?
I went out to the porch and realized it was coming from Archie’s house, so it had to be Sharon. What was her problem this time?
As I was walking down my steps and toward their house, I noticed a swarm of bees returning to the apiary. To the pink hive. Uh-oh, I thought, what were my naughty bees up to now?
I heard a siren coming in our direction and assumed the siren was related to the screams, because that’s what a smart girl I was. Sure enough, the police car arrived and out stepped Ted Meyers. He wore a serious expression.
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