Queen Bee (Lowcountry Tales #12)(29)

Momma had been giggling all day at the prospect of how Archie would react to being alone with me. Holly was less enthused, but that was understandable. When they saw me, they stopped and exhaled a whoosh of surprise and anxiety.

“You’ve got this, sister,” Holly said.

“Poor bastard doesn’t stand a chance,” Momma said.

“Thanks, ladies.”

It was almost go time. If Holly was right, this might be our only bite of the apple. If she was wrong, I’d have a good time messing with Archie’s head anyway. I was just finishing a strategic application of cologne when I heard the boys come in the house. I picked up my purse and went to the kitchen to pick up dinner.

The boys were at the table with Momma and Holly.

Tyler said, “This is so cool to get to go out on a school night!”

Hunter, who was staring at me, said, “You smell really pretty. Do you have a date with our dad?”

This got Tyler’s attention right away.

“Do you?” he said.

“Oh, no, sweetie,” I said. “I knew your dad a long time ago when y’all were just little bitty babies and had just moved in next door. I haven’t seen him in ages. We just want to catch up with each other. That’s all.”

“That’s too bad,” Tyler said.

“Why’s that?” I said.

“It would be really nice if he’d have a date with someone besides Sharon,” Tyler said.

“Yeah, we don’t like her,” Hunter said.

“Why don’t you like her?” Momma asked.

The two boys looked at each other, unsure of how to answer. And then Tyler, being the oldest, spoke.

“You know how some grown-ups don’t like kids? You can just feel it? That’s her,” he said.

“Oh, come on, now.” Holly reached over and touched his arm affectionately. “You know, some grown-ups are awkward, but that doesn’t mean they don’t like you. Sometimes it just takes certain people a while longer to warm up.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Hunter said, “but some grown-ups think kids are in the way.”

Out of the proverbial mouths of babes, I thought.

“I’ll see y’all later!” I said.

“I promised to have the boys home by eight thirty,” Holly said.

“Thanks for the warning!” I said and winked at Tyler, who smiled at me.

“Behave yourself!” Momma said, and then, realizing little pitchers have big ears, she said to the boys, “Leslie always behaves. I just tell her that.”

I picked up my cooler, my bottle of wine, and my purse and left.

Well, I told myself as I walked across the porch and down the steps, if he has on cologne, it is a date. If he’s all rumpled and the house is messy, it isn’t. I went up his front steps and rang his doorbell. It took him no time to answer it.

“Leslie! Come in! Don’t you look lovely!”

“Well, thanks, Archie! It’s so great to see you again! Sorry about this morning.”

“I’m not,” he said.

I leaned in and he gave me a tiny, very chaste kiss on my cheek. He was wearing some lemony-smelling aftershave and a clean shirt. Two points for the home team. The house—well, what I could see of it—was neat and tidy. Two more points.

“What did you bring for us for dinner?” he asked.

Honey, he was smiling from ear to ear. Oh, yeah, Archie, you’re going down like a redwood.

“I brought you something you’re gonna love,” I said.

A little double entendre, why not?

“You did, did you?”

“I just have to warm it up.”

Yeah, warm this up, I thought.

“Well, let’s do it!”

I followed him to the kitchen thinking about how big old mean pussycats torture their mice before they eat them, teasing them. I was hoping I was that cat.

We passed a dining room table covered in mail. It was a bit like our house. Did anyone really use their dining rooms?

“One of these days, I’ll clear off that table and start having dinner like an adult. I hope you don’t mind eating in the kitchen.”

“The kitchen is absolutely fine,” I said.

I put the cooler on the counter, where a cheese board sat with a wedge of Brie and some grapes and crackers. And I noticed that he had set the table for us. There were wineglasses and cloth napkins, which I also considered a good sign. I set the oven to 350 degrees and slid my casserole and garlic bread in, thinking it would all warm up in the oven together.

“This is going to take about twenty minutes, I’m guessing,” I said.

“That’s fine. I opened a bottle of red wine for us,” he said. “May I pour a glass for you?”

“Please. That would be lovely. Thank you,” I said. “I brought a bottle, too.”

“Great! We’ll have a reserve bottle. But it’s not good to overimbibe on a weeknight. Unless, of course, you feel compelled to overimbibe.” He said this smiling, and his eyes just twinkled. “And then, overimbibing is fine.”

“Are you nervous, Archie?”

“Um, why, no. Should I be?”

He poured a healthy measure into two wineglasses and offered one to me.

I took the glass from him and said, “Heavens, no! Thanks. Cheers! Here’s to renewing old friendships!”