Queen Bee (Lowcountry Tales #12)(106)

“We should do that,” he said. “You know, take a blanket down to the dark end of the island on a clear night, lie there, and just get lost in the stars.”

I looked at him and a thousand things raced through my mind. The main one was I knew that if we did that, I wouldn’t honestly be wearing white on my wedding day. Now that I had waited so long, I wasn’t budging.

“After we’re married,” I said. “I’m not that kind of girl. Sorry.”

“Oh, God! Of course! Only after we’re married!”

“Make it soon, okay?” I said. “Good night.”

“Where do you think you’re going so fast?”

All I can tell you is that it took Ted Meyers, chief of police, about two minutes to leave me breathless, weak in the knees, with an unfamiliar clench in an area I did not know could clench involuntarily. I felt like my bones had turned to jelly.

“Well, I just learned something.”

“What’s that?”

“Why people lie down to you know, you know . . .”

“Yeah, I think it’s so they won’t fall down.”

“You’d better get out of here.”

“I’ll be back, Little Queen Bee.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You need your own hive.” He smiled. “And I’m going to give it to you.”

“G’night!” I said and thought, Holy shit, there’s sex in my future after all.





Epilogue

SULLIVAN’S ISLAND

April 2019

Leslie finally divorced Charlie, who, as predicted by everyone involved, went on to become wildly successful as Cher’s long-lost identical twin sister, Char. We were actually all delighted for her. And Leslie’s involvement with Archie became more serious. Who cared? They were both happy. The boys were happy. But she would not marry him.

“I’m just dividing my time between our house and his. That’s enough for me. You think I want to be his third dead wife? No way, baby. Uh-uh.”

In the Lowcountry, we believed bad things happened in threes. Becoming the third wife of a man twice widowed was a terrifying prospect.

“I don’t blame you,” I said.

But good things also happened in threes. I had so many good things happening around me and to me, I wasn’t quite sure where to start counting. I’d started teaching at Sullivan’s Island Elementary School eight months earlier, and I loved it. Because of that and a few other details, I couldn’t go to Italy with Maureen, but Ted promised to take me there someday.

“When’s the baby coming?” Tyler asked.

“Any day now,” I said.

Last fall, Ted gave me a diamond ring. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t too small, either. We got married as soon as we could, right after Suzanne and Momma. Everyone knew we would run to the altar because our pants were on fire. We had a small ceremony at Stella Maris Church. Monsignor Ben Michaels performed the ceremony and Lynn Bagnal played the organ. Leslie was a maid of honor and, in a surprise choice, Ted asked Suzanne to be his best man. They had become very close. He had taken to calling her Suz, which Suzanne said suited her better anyway. It was a gender-neutral name. So first Suz walked me up the aisle to give me away and then she stood by Ted.

My friends from Publix and school came and, of course, friends of Ted’s, lots of folks from the township office and the police force, our neighbors, Maureen, her husband and son, and Archie and his boys. Archie and his boys bought us a remote-controlled toy Maserati as a wedding gift and I thought it was really sweet. Of course, Mark and Darlene were there, too. Afterward, we had a small reception at home with wedding cake from Publix, finger sandwiches, and champagne. It was simple but beautiful, and exactly what we wanted.

My garden was a botanical wonder that season, with so many gorgeous roses and dahlias, still in bloom, as though they were staying in bloom, waiting for my wedding to happen. They filled every container we owned, and I even made my own bouquet. I decorated my beehives and the fence around them with yards and yards of white tulle and bouquets of herbs. And of course, I got a sense that the bees were pleased for me. I really did.

Don’t you know that when we announced we were going on a short honeymoon to Bermuda, Hunter wanted to come.

“Aren’t we related yet?” he asked with those gorgeous eyes of his.

“You are such a little charmer,” I said and tousled his hair.

The boys had survived the reign and wrath of Sharon and appeared to be unscathed.

“I’ll take you to Bermuda this summer if you have a good year in school. And Tyler, too, of course,” Archie said.

Leslie shot Archie a hairy eyeball.

“And you, too!” he said. “Of course!”

There must’ve been some magic in the coral sand where we stretched out on beach towels to watch the stars in the night sky over Bermuda, because I came home with a little biscuit in my oven and a whole lot smarter about what goes on between the sheets. All I can say is that I wish I’d taken Ted more seriously in high school. I would’ve married him the day we graduated and dragged him to bed every chance I had. All those wasted years of self-deprivation! Ah, well. Deprivation no more!

When we got home we moved my hives to Ted’s backyard, which was now our backyard, and he quickly constructed a fence to keep Stubble from getting into trouble. Stubble became my constant companion. The bees buzzed around and bearded some, but overall, after a bit, they settled down and got back to the business of foraging, pollinating, and making delicious honey. I kicked up some dirt in the long-neglected flower beds and said I could get them going again. I did, and by April, our yard looked like somebody loved it. We were only a few blocks from Momma, in case, well, you know, if something happened and she needed us.