Queen Bee (Lowcountry Tales #12)(70)

“Archie, Hunter and Tyler can’t read the washing machine buttons.”

“Then all they have to do is ask for some direction,” he said.

“And if they get home at five minutes after five, do you really think they should be denied dinner?”

“That’s a bit too much, I agree,” he said.

“And should she really turn the lights out when they are in the shower?”

“She was just trying to make a point about using too much hot water.”

“What if they slip and fall in the darkness? Do you know what percentage of head injuries come from bathroom accidents?”

“I suspect more come from football,” he said. “Look, I know Sharon’s a rough taskmaster, but this house has never been cleaner. Even the dining room table is cleared.”

“Your house might be clean, but your boys are miserable.”

“Why in the world would they be miserable?”

“They feel they are being distanced from you, and they sure as hell don’t feel loved by her.”

“Holly, that’s quite a mouthful.”

“Yeah, it is. Can you imagine what it would be if I filled in the details?”

“It wouldn’t be a story I’d relish hearing about my new wife, I’m sure. But I will be more vigilant and I will try to give the boys more time.”

“Why not have a boys’ night once a week? Give them a chance to talk to you without her there.”

“Not a bad idea.”

He looked at me in such a way that I could tell he was absolutely unconvinced that I had told him the truth about Hunter’s accident.

“You don’t believe me about Hunter and his bicycle accident, do you?”

“Look, I think you are very well intentioned. If I didn’t know you had genuine feelings for my boys, I’d be furious right now. And I’m not. Not a bit. And I think my boys are on a mission to get rid of Sharon, for whatever their juvenile reasons might be.”

“Okay, I’ve said my piece. Good luck to you, Archie.”

“Hey! Why are you saying good luck like there’s something terrible looming?”

“Because there is something terrible looming, Archie. I feel it in every one of my bones.”

“Really?”

“Look, she’s accusatory, self-absorbed, defensive, judgmental, petty, dishonest, and unkind, so I don’t like Sharon, your boys don’t like Sharon, Leslie doesn’t like Sharon, and even my momma doesn’t like Sharon. The bees don’t like her and even the seagulls don’t like her. None of us, the humans that is, see this situation improving. We all see it as going downhill. So good luck.”

“I see. So are you saying you don’t want to sit for my kids in the future?”

That was his biggest concern?

“I would never say no to doing anything for those boys. And you know it. But sit for them? I wish they lived with me. And so do they. Figure it out, Archie. You’ve got a ticking bomb on your hands, because this is only going to get worse unless you step in.”

“Look, Holly. You’re a nice girl. You mean well. But you should never assume to know how things really are under someone else’s roof.”

Don’t condescend to me, bubba, I thought.

“That’s right. And you’re a nice boy.” I thought, Think about that one, old man. “Unless a person is absolutely certain things are way off kilter, it’s always better to mind your own business. And I am absolutely certain.”

“Well, you’ve given me a lot to consider,” he said.

This entire conversation was all in one ear and out the other.

“Archie, I’ve known you since the day the boys were born. We’ve never had a serious difference of opinion.”

“Are we having one now?” he said and had the audacity to smile at me.

“Yeah, we are. You may think this is a joke, but no, sir, it is not. We’re having a huge difference of opinion.”

I walked down his steps, across the road to my house, and went inside. I sat down at the kitchen table and had a long-overdue cry. After about thirty minutes, I lifted my head to see my bees, bearded on the window screen over the sink.





Suzanne said, “Do you know there are about a thousand people living underground in Las Vegas? They’re in tunnels.”

“No way,” I said.

“Way,” Charlie said.


Chapter Twenty-Four



Leslie, the QB, and Vegas

There would be no grass growing under our feet. Momma and I didn’t waste a moment in getting down to business. In the first few days we were in Las Vegas, we found a fabric store and bought a bolt of muslin, shears, thread, tailor’s chalk, and everything else she would need to get started. There were sketches of costumes taped all over the walls of Charlie’s dining room, which was now transformed into a pattern and sewing room. Momma measured and remeasured Charlie from one end to the other, noting everything on a legal pad.

“I love your apartment, Charlie,” Momma said, while hooking up the back of a bustier we’d bought to give Charlie a bit of cleavage.

“Why, thank you. It’s just for now, but the view of the desert is quite nice. Especially the sunsets.”