Queen Bee (Lowcountry Tales #12)(80)

Promptly at six, the doorbell rang, and I wouldn’t say I sprinted to the door, but I got there quickly. I didn’t wait the suggested three beats that Leslie did, like her three rings on the phone before answering. What was the point in delaying the fun?

“Hey!” I said. “Don’t you look nice?”

“You, too! Are you ready to go?”

“Yep! So, what’s the plan?”

“Dinner at the Shem Creek Bar and Grill, watch the sunset, and then I don’t know. We’ll see how late it is, I guess?”

“That sounds lovely,” I said and locked the door to the house behind me.

“Great!” he said and held my car door for me, closing it when I was comfortably seated with the skirt of my dress neatly tucked under me.

Ted’s car was precious—a Japanese import, red and loaded with gadgets. The lights were on at Archie’s house and yes, I had a moment where I hoped he could see me going out with someone. That’s right, Archie! I have a date!

Now, that whole southern thing about gentlemen holding chairs and doors for ladies might seem dated to some people, that the fair sex couldn’t manage a chair or a door for themselves, bless their sweet little heart-shaped peach kernels. To me it said a mouthful of other things—that your momma raised you right, that you had respect for women and deferred to them by allowing them to enter a home, a store, a restaurant, et cetera, before the man and then to take their arm and fold it over yours to ensure steady footing, and finally, it was just a tiny bit of refinement that wasn’t hurting anyone and made you both seem like you didn’t grow up in a barnyard, even if you did.

We were passing over the causeway and couldn’t help but notice the water on either side was almost even with the road. One more inch and the causeway would be a washout. Then, for a moment, I felt overwhelmed, as though something terrible was all around me, something as dark as death itself. I must have gasped.

“You okay?” Ted said.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just sometimes I get these weird premonitions and I have to figure out what they mean.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, Lord, if I start telling you this stuff you’re going to say, well, now I know why she’s not married!”

“No, I won’t! I love all that spiritual business.”

“Sometimes it’s useful, but most of the time it’s just ether garbage, floating around.”

“What was on your radar just then?”

“It was pretty dark, I mean dark like death, and this overwhelming feeling of, well, pressure on my chest and not being able to breathe.”

“How awful.”

“Must be a full moon,” I said.

“Yes, tonight is the peak. It’s also when all the nuts come out of the woodwork and do crazy stuff.”

“Like what? Howl?”

“Exactly. I wouldn’t be surprised if your new neighbor was outside spinning around and howling at midnight.”

“Let me just tell you, Ted. That woman is bat shit crazy, sorry for the foul language.”

Ted threw his head back and laughed.

“I love that you’re apologizing for saying a bad word! And, by the way, I think she’s probably delusional.”

I did not tell him that I had seen my bees leaving her house. That they had been in her house and that she didn’t make it up. Sharon was not someone I wanted anyone to hold in any kind of esteem.

“I don’t know if she’s delusional, but she does other things that border on cruelty.”

“Really? Such as?”

“She’s made Archie’s boys miserable in every way she can.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Because she’s incredibly selfish and puts herself ahead of everyone. And she never wanted kids.”

“Whoo-hoo! I touched a nerve here, didn’t I?”

“Ted, did you know Carin? Archie’s deceased wife?”

“I didn’t know her, but I knew of her. I mean, I remember that she was very pretty and she loved her family. She was always at the oyster roast and she decorated her golf cart with the boys for the Fourth of July parade. Her Halloween house was a favorite stop on the island. You know, that sort of thing.”

“Yes, she did all those things, but Carin was also the most loving mother I have ever seen. The loss to these boys is so horrible. And this Sharon is Halloween every day of the year.”

“That’s too bad for the boys. Poor little guys. Give me an example.”

Then I thought it wasn’t good to talk about Sharon like this. “Listen, I could tell you a pile of stories about Sharon, but it won’t change anything.”

“It might,” he said.

“It would just be hearsay,” I said. “But it wouldn’t hurt anybody if the Sullivan’s Island Police Force kept an eye on her.”

“I will make a note of that.”

We pulled into the parking lot of the Shem Creek Bar and Grill and got out of the car.

“I love this place,” I said as I crunched along the gravel. “Best hush puppies ever.”

“I could eat a truckload of them, that’s for sure. But I’m partial to those little bitty crab cakes they make.”

“Love them, too! And the oysters! I don’t know where they come from, maybe the May River, but oh, man, I love them on the half shell. Do you love oysters? And clams?”