Queen Bee (Lowcountry Tales #12)(22)

“I get it,” I said.

“He’s called me twenty times since I left.”

“Literally?”

She nodded her head.

“That’s a lot,” I said.

“Of all the damn reasons my marriage should fall apart, this was not the one I would’ve picked.”

“Me, either. Were there any signs? I mean, there had to be a hint.”

“The only sign—well, I don’t know if I’d call it a sign, but well, you know how he was always waiting for his father to die so he could inherit?”

“His dad died a few years ago, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, and he inherited a bundle. I say he, because he kept all the money in his name. He said I wasn’t entitled to his parents’ wealth. We needed a new furnace and he said he wasn’t spending his money on it until it was actually dead. I pointed out to him that every year we keep pouring more and more money into it, to the point that it’s just throwing good money after bad. He said put on a sweater and don’t tax it so hard.”

“Nice. So, in some way, he was already distancing himself from the marriage?”

“Exactly. Then he lost a ton of weight. And he began coming home later and later. And taking more frequent business trips that now I suspect were monkey business.”

“You know, Leslie, I don’t care what consenting adults do in the dark.”

“Oh, I know that. Neither do I. It seems like half the world is gay or bi or trans something and it’s all fine with me. But I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect my husband to be monogamous.”

“Do you think Charlie is attracted to men? Or does he just want to do this impersonation thing?”

“I think Charlie is a little bit of a smorgasbord at the moment. Eventually he’ll settle down and figure it out. He’s not stupid. But he’s definitely not the guy I married. That’s for sure.”

“Well, I’m glad you came home. So is the queen.”

“Thanks.”

“You know people are going to ask. The gossip machine on this island is relentless. What do you want me to say?”

“Tell them I’m available!”

We cracked up laughing.

“No, I mean, what do you want me to say when they ask what happened?”

“Tell them we disagreed about our future together. That’s vague enough.”

“Come on. We’ve got to do better than that,” I said.

“Tell them I couldn’t get along with Charlene. How’s that?”

“Good grief!”

We watched as Archie’s car pulled into his driveway and the boys tumbled out. They waved at us and we waved back. I’d tamped my enthusiasm for Archie, but I blew a kiss to the boys.

“A dentist,” I mumbled.

“You know, you’re taking this lying down like a cheap rug. Where’s your fighting spirit?”

“What do you mean?” I said and thought, Oh, no, I’m not going to go make myself over and act like I think I’m a seductress.

“I mean, not that I’m such an expert in the ways of romance, as we know, but it seems to me that the woman picks the man. Not the other way around.”

“What are you trying to say? I don’t know if that’s true at all,” I said.

“Look, here’s the deal. You get married and there you are! The blushing bride! But pretty soon you realize that you’re supposed to keep a spotless house, cook fabulous meals, make all the birthdays and holidays gorgeous and unforgettable, have Einstein babies with perfect manners, for heaven’s sake never age or gain an ounce, be super nice to his family, and oh, you’ve got to be a porn star in the bedroom. And you may or may not be required to have a career.”

“That sure seems like a lot,” I said. “But didn’t Charlie help you around the house? Didn’t he, like, I don’t know, cut the grass and take out the garbage?”

“Are you kidding me? Prince Charles get his hands dirty? Charlie never lifted a finger! He’d say, call somebody!”

“How do you like that?”

“Look, Holly, here’s what I’m telling you. If you think you’d like to do all that for Archie, you need to get in there and steal his heart before it’s too late. I mean, who knows? Maybe this dentist doesn’t have her hooks in that deep.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “It sounds like a lot of work for not a lot of compensation.”

“It is. That’s why I’m never, and I mean never getting married again. But I know you. We’re as different from each other as we could possibly be. You’re a born homebody slash nurturer, and I’m going back to being a party girl. Big time. You won’t be horrified if I sleep around a bit, will you?”

What was she saying?

“If you’re going to misbehave, please do it in Mount Pleasant. Better yet? Take yourself up the road to Columbia. Okay?” I said and thought, Great. “I’m going to go start supper.”

“One must avail oneself as opportunities arise,” she said with a smirk. “Geography has no conscience.”

“Sweet Jesus, save us,” I said and went inside to make pot roast. So much for playing hard to get.

A few days later I was in the yard, pulling weeds, when Archie came home. His boys were at my kitchen table doing their homework. I’d made them a snack called Ants on a Log, which was celery stuffed with creamy peanut butter and raisins dotted across the top. They thought I was the best cook in the world. Of course, I was pretty grimy and a bit sweaty, because when you’re serious about weeds, mulch, and vermiculite plus water, you’re making mud pies all over yourself. Usually, when I saw Archie, I looked like I had just crawled out of the marsh.