Queen Bee

by Dorothea Benton Frank

  “Yeah, so are we. See you later!”

  I went down the stairs with her and then I went around the house to put some water in the bee pans. I heard Archie’s Jeep coming from down the street. He needed a new muffler. It wasn’t any psychic ability that told me that. It was the awful, earsplitting rumble of his vehicle. I got my shears from the shed and began cutting some flowers for Momma’s room. I knew almost to the second how long it would take him to stop, get out, and slam the door. I had become so accustomed to listening for his sounds, I could recognize his footfall on a gravel driveway. I didn’t look up to greet him. In the past, I would’ve fluttered and flittered, finding an excuse to speak to him. Now I ignored him and felt fine about it. He must’ve thought I was deep in thought, because he called out to me sort of loudly.

  “Hi, there!”

  I could hear him thinking, Where’s my adoration?

  So I looked up from my flower beds and said, “Hi!”

  He took that as an invitation to come over to my side of the flower beds.

  “Boy, look at this! Your flowers are just spectacular!”

  “Thanks!”

  “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  Then he stepped back.

  “Wait, are you upset with me for some reason? Is there something I’ve done? The boys?”

  “No, why?”

  “I don’t know. You just seem, I don’t know, different somehow.”

  “Archie, I’m fine. Momma had sort of a major surgical procedure yesterday and we brought her home today. She’s resting. Her friend from Las Vegas flew in to help take care of her. And then, you know, just ten days ago, I was under suspicion for Sharon’s demise because I trained my bees to sting her to death, even though she was prowling around my yard at night with the intention of killing them. But other than that? Things are good.”

  “Yeah, that was pretty crazy, wasn’t it? Well, I wanted to talk to you about Sharon’s cats. I thought you might like to have them. I’m allergic, you see, and . . .”

  “Have you lost your mind?” I just stared at him. “I mean, I’m waiting to see if her family is going to file a civil suit against me. You do know that, don’t you?”

  “I heard something about it, but that would just be ridiculous, don’t you think?”

  “Of course, it’s ridiculous!” I knew my voice was elevated. “Give the cats to her parents!”

  “Well, see, I was hoping you’d take them because the boys sort of like them and then they could visit them every now and then.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. (A.) Was he really going to try to use me again? And (B.) Why would I want anything that had anything to do with that horrible wife of his? And (C.) Not even if he paid me fifty dollars a day to board them would I touch her cats.

  “Really? Archie, do you want to know what I think? I think you should go home and get out all the pictures of Carin you locked away and put them back where they were. Then maybe you ought to take your boys on a vacation somewhere to rebond with them. Go camping, go to Disney World, but do something for them! Sharon’s cats? No, thank you. Not in a million years.”

  “This is about the civil suit, isn’t it?”

  I just stood there for a minute looking at him. I was seething. After all I had done for him and the boys? And to be treated the way I was treated by her while he stood by and said nothing? Never mind all the horrible things he allowed her to do to his own boys. And now, for me to be threatened by her family? Now, I should take Sharon’s cats? I mean, in theory, I like cats just fine. Dogs, too. But it’s a huge commitment of years to make when you take in an animal. If I wanted to have cats, the cats I’d have would definitely never have been hers. And did he really think there was no damage done to his boys by Sharon that might need to be repaired? Oh, my God! Was he this stupid? Could he possibly be this incredibly stupid?

  “Holly? Are you talking to me or are you just going to stare at me?”

  Don’t get indignant with me, I thought.

  “I’m just wondering about something.”

  “What’s that?”

  I said, “How in the name of God did you get into Harvard?”

  I said this without malice. I really wanted him to see how unforgivably and insensitively dense he was.

  Tiny little lights began to come on in his mind.

  “Okay, I’ll tell Sharon’s parents to back off.”

  I wasn’t going to be so easily appeased.

  “Maybe you should have told them that before the threat of it ever reached my door.” I gathered up my bucket of flowers and shears and turned to walk away from him. “See you around, Archie.”

  I went in the house and there stood Leslie and Suzanne giving me a whole lot of quiet applause, huge hugs, and lots of atta girl!

  “How did you hear everything?”

  “Darling, you were right under your momma’s room. We opened the window and we could hear every word as though you were in her bedroom with us!” Suzanne said.

  “You were marvelous! Oh, my God! Suzanne and I were dying!” Leslie said. “Momma wants to tell you something. Hurry!”

  I put the bucket of flowers on the floor and the shears on the hall table and went to her room.

  I opened her door. She was propped up in bed.

  “Come sit here on the side of my bed,” she said.

  Of course, I did as she asked.

  “What’s up?” I said.

  “I want to tell you something I should have told you a long time ago.” She took my hand in hers and held it. “I’m so proud of you. You told that Archie MacLean just what he’s needed to hear from you for a very long time. It takes nerve to tell somebody where the bear goes in the buckwheat and I could not have done a better job myself.”

  “Thank you. I just got sick of him thinking I’d do anything on earth for him when he did nothing for me.”

  “But you should take Sharon’s cats? I could only imagine what was going on in your head when he said you should take them, so his boys could come visit them once in a while. That was rich!”

  “He’s so thick in the head, he didn’t think he was asking for much at all. He hasn’t got the first clue how to take care of anything or anyone except himself. Not even cats. Much less his poor boys.”

  “Yes, sweetheart—and yes, I’m calling you sweetheart—if you’d allowed yourself to become actually involved with him in an intimate relationship, you’d have been deprived of any emotional support just like his boys are. You would not have been cherished by him.”

  “I see that now.”

  “I want more for you, Holly. You are such a lovely young woman in every single way and you deserve so much more than a man like Archie. What I’ve learned and what your sister has learned, both of our lessons coming at a very high price, is the importance of choosing wisely.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Now, go fix my flowers and hurry up. I need to feel some love.”

  I smiled then and so did she.

  Of course, the second I opened her door, Leslie and Suzanne nearly tumbled over themselves to get out of the way.

  “Let’s get a glass of tea,” I said, picked up the bucket of flowers and my shears in the hall, and they followed me to the kitchen. “Did y’all think I wasn’t going to tell y’all what she said?”

  “We just wanted to hear it for ourselves,” Leslie said. “She was actually sweet to you.”

  “Yeah, I only had to wait thirty years,” I said and laughed. “And when I think of all the days and nights I wasted thinking about Archie and literally worshipping him from afar, it’s just too stupid. Too stupid.”

  I put the bucket of flowers in the sink and gave it a few inches of water.

  “Oh, I disagree with that,” Suzanne said. “I don’t think you should ever regret loving anyone. Love is such a miracle. You’ll never know for sure, but maybe you loved him the best he’ll ever know. And maybe when he thinks about i
t, he’ll be a better person for it.”

  Leslie took the pitcher of tea from the refrigerator and put it on the counter. I got three glasses from the cabinet and filled them with ice.

  “I’m not sorry I married Charlie,” Leslie said. “I loved him, but I’m not sure I made him a better anything.”

  “Can I ask you ladies something?” Suzanne said. “It’s about that pitcher of tea.”

  “What about it?” I asked.

  “Is it magic? I mean, it’s the best iced tea in the world. But, like, does it refill itself? It never appears to be empty.”

  “It never is,” Leslie said. “If it was, I think we’d all shrivel up and die.”

  I said, “Did you know you can use honey on a cut or a scrape and it will keep germs out?”

  Hunter said, “Is that why they say go lick your wounds?”

  “How old are you?” Suzanne said. “Who is this kid?”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Bee Happy

  Momma was out of bed and Suzanne was completely dedicated to her full recovery.

  “We’re going to take a stroll down to the Obstinate Daughter, that charming little spot named for Char, and have some lunch.”

  “I don’t know if I can walk that far,” the QB said.

  “Go!” I said. “If you need me, call me. I can come pick you up.”

  With that assurance, Momma nodded at Suzanne and they were off.

  “I wonder what Jacques and Jonathan are going to say,” Leslie said.

  Jacques Larson, the executive chef, and Jonathan Bentley, the general manager, were in charge of almost everything about the restaurant, especially the image. If they looked at Suzanne and loved her, she and the queen would receive the royal treatment—a great table, focused interest on their comfort and enjoyment, and countless freebies from the kitchen. If not, well, I’d get a call soon.

  “Um, I feel like every kind of superstar that passes through Charleston goes there, so they’re used to characters showing up at the door,” I said. “I’m not worried.”

  While they were at lunch, Ted called. Finally.

  “Officer Meyers? I thought maybe you were ghosting me,” I said.

  Leslie, who was standing by, wasn’t used to me being even remotely clever. She gave me the strangest look.

  He asked me if I would like to have dinner and I said, “Sure. When?”

  He said, “I was thinking about tonight.”

  “Why not?” I said. “What time?”

  “How’s six? I’m done at five and I just have to shower up. I think six is safe,” he said.

  “I’ll see you then,” I said and pressed the end button. I must’ve been smiling in a way that Leslie was unfamiliar with, because she still had this very weird look on her face.

  “This is your guy,” she said.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. I blushed and broke a sweat. “I don’t have a guy, and I don’t need one, either.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said. “You’re not the only one in this family who can predict things, you know.”

  “I know that.”

  The fact was that most of the women in our family on my mother’s side had some kind of weird gift. My grandmother used to dream about hearses driving by and she’d know someone was about to drop dead. If the dream was accompanied by a death knock the next day—that is, a loud knocking on your door but no one’s there—then she knew it was a family member. My aunt, the QB’s sister, who’d gone to her reward years ago, could tell you who was calling before the telephone rang. And she could predict rain by the shape of the crescent moon, and the gender of unborn babies. And me? I knew that eventually I’d be teaching at Sullivan’s Island Elementary School because I could see myself in the classroom there. And I knew my bees heard me. And a few other oddities. But I couldn’t see myself married to anyone. I sort of hoped Leslie was right.

  Suzanne and the queen arrived home about ten minutes before I was to go out. They had been gone all afternoon.

  “Hey! Did y’all have fun?” I asked.

  “It was fabulous,” Momma said.

  She was literally beaming. So was Suzanne. My antenna went up. Leslie wandered in.

  “How was lunch?” she said.

  “Shockingly delicious!” Suzanne said.

  “We ate so much we decided to walk it off. So we walked out to the beach and down the island.”

  “Then we crossed the dunes at Fort Moultrie, and I learned all about cannonballs bouncing off the palmetto logs of the original fort during the Revolution.”

  “And about Osceola and the Seminoles!” Momma said.

  “And about Fort Sumter. Don’t forget the Hunley!” Suzanne said.

  “It sounds like y’all had a perfectly marvelous afternoon!” Leslie said.

  “We did,” Suzanne said. “And I asked the queen to marry me.”

  “And I said yes!” Momma said. “I’m going to make Suzanne my king!”

  Hmmm, I thought. Really? How’s that going to work? Then I thought, Why not?

  “Jesus!” Leslie said and staggered backward as though she might faint. “I sure didn’t see that one coming!”

  After a moment’s pause, I thought it was just about the coolest thing I’d ever heard.

  “Well, I think neither one of y’all ought to be wearing white. But I’ll make the cake! Congratulations!” I gave Suzanne a hug and said, “Welcome to our crazy little hive!”

  “And when is the wedding to take place?” Leslie asked.

  “I don’t know!” Suzanne said. “I have to get a diamond and wedding bands. Any suggestions where to go?”

  “Oh, honey, there’s only Croghan’s Jewel Box,” Leslie said. “I’ll take y’all there tomorrow.”

  “And we need a marriage license,” Momma said. “And witnesses. Oh! Y’all will do that for us, won’t you?”

  “Of course!” Leslie and I said.

  “And I need a dress,” Momma said.

  “So do I!” Suzanne said. “Just kidding.”

  We all about died laughing, of course. But it was serious business and we all knew it. I hoped that Suzanne was in it to cherish—a new word for me—Momma for whatever time she had remaining with us and not to stake a claim on whatever she had when she left us. Momma needed a prenup. I’d call Mark.

  Ted was at the door.

  “I’ll see you kids later!” I said and sailed out with the least amount of fanfare possible. We had a lot to discuss.

  He closed my car door, walked around his side, and got in.

  “So, what’s new?” he said.

  “How much time do we have?” I said. “There’s so much going on that my little head is spinning.”

  I looked over at him and he looked back, and those ice-blue eyes of his gave me a shiver.

  “You cold? Should I adjust the AC?”

  “No, I just had a thought. Anyway, where are we going?”

  “I thought we should go someplace where people can’t see their new chief of police drinking alcohol, so we’re going to Bowens Island.”

  “Ted! You got the job! Oh! I’m so happy for you!”

  “Yep! I got the job! Town council voted, and they’re paying for housing on the island as a bonus. Now, it’s not oceanfront and it’s not huge, but it’s big enough for a small family.”

  “A small family?”

  “Yes. Now that my future seems to be secure, I’m thinking I should probably be looking for a wife.”

  “Oh, I agree.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, I just hope our children have your eyes.”

  He laughed so hard and then so did I that we both had tears coming down our faces. It was such a bold thing to say that I wondered where Little Miss Demure went.

  “That’s hilarious!” he said. “I can’t believe you said that!”

  Well, at least he didn’t pull over to the side of the road and tell me to call an Uber.

  “Ted? It’s gonna be what it’s gonna be. I think that’s how
life is, if you’re paying attention.”

  “I can’t believe it, but I agree with you. We should just enjoy each other and see what the plan is when it’s time.”

  Something in me had changed when Archie asked me if I wanted Sharon’s cats. I thought then that if I didn’t start saying what it was that I wanted, I shouldn’t expect to get it. Archie got so off base about me because I let him be so off base about me. I was never clear.

  We rode in amused silence across the bridges and causeways until we reached Folly Road and Bowens Island. Then we went inside, got a table, and looked at the walls, which were covered in graffiti.

  “This place makes me wish I’d brought a set of Sharpies,” I said.

  “Well, you go writing on the walls and I might have to take you into custody, ma’am.”

  “I think this place encourages bad behavior,” I said. “And I might like to be in your custody. You never know.”

  “I knew I liked it here,” he said. He was quiet for a moment and then he said, “You know, Miss Jensen, you might just have a little devil in you that’s ready to dance.”

  “Ted, I’m thirty years old. You know I never squandered my flowers, so to speak.”

  “Squandered your flowers? Oh, God! Holly! Where do you come up with this stuff?”

  “Because I’m a big nerd. DuBose Heyward. You’re not the only one who wrote lousy poetry.”

  “DuBose Heyward who wrote Porgy and Bess with George Gershwin?”

  “Fun fact. It was his wife, Dorothy, who adapted his book Porgy for the stage, and Porgy and Bess was born. Gershwin’s musical came later, and it made less money than Dorothy’s production. But he was a genius. They all were, actually.”

  “I can’t wait to hear what qualifies as genius in your mind.”

  “You’re kidding, right? The guy was one of the greatest composers of the twentieth century! Rhapsody in Blue, An American in Paris, “Funny Face,” “Love Is Here to Stay,” “I Got Rhythm” . . . need I say more?”

  “And I imagine you know all the lyrics to all the songs?”

  “Of course!”

  “The same way I do with Cole Porter?”

  “What?”

  “I’ve worn out three vinyl albums of Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Cole Porter Song Book.”