“She’s even got you saying ‘y’all,’ ” I said. “And you want to know something crazy?”
“Sure.”
“I’m using all feminine pronouns with Char, as I should. At least I think I’m supposed to. And I’m using them for you, too, but it doesn’t feel right.”
Suzanne laughed so hard then, I thought she’d have to sit down and catch her breath.
“Leslie? You may call me however and whatever pops out of your mouth. I know this crazy world of Las Vegas isn’t like home. And I know you both love me to death. And I love both of you to death. People are too screwed up over being politically correct all the time.”
“Thanks, Suzanne. Momma and I feel like a couple of country bumpkins next to all this glamour.”
“Well, don’t. I think you’re fabulous!”
At eight that night we were seated at a gorgeous table in Morels. The QB ordered lobster, I ordered a small filet mignon, and Suzanne and Char ordered rib-eyes.
“I never have lobster,” Momma said. “I just never think to order it.”
The truth was she never went anywhere where lobster was on the menu. In fact, she seldom went anywhere at all.
“The queen should have lobster every single night if she likes,” Suzanne said, smiling at Momma with all of her heart.
“And champagne?” Momma said.
“Darling, you’re the queen bee,” Suzanne said and touched the back of Momma’s hand tenderly. “And the queen will always have champagne if that is what she wants!”
“Agreed!” Char said.
Sometimes, there’s a sixth sense that kicks in when someone around you is deathly ill, and it seemed to me that Suzanne was acting on that instinct. It didn’t matter. We would know soon enough. The Doctors of Death at MUSC would tell us. But all that was to be on another day. I sat back in my chair and looked at the four of us. What a foursome we were! Char had certainly been a wonderful host. And Suzanne, too. Suzanne and Char could teach the South a thing or two about how to show amazing hospitality.
“Suzanne, I cannot even begin to tell you how happy I am to have met you and to spend this time with you,” I said. “I hope you’re going to come and visit us on Sullivan’s Island.”
“When things get dull, just give me a call,” she said and winked at me.
“I can see the two of us,” Char said, “taking a walk over to the Obstinate Daughter for a martini.”
“Finally, a restaurant in your name,” the QB said, deadpan.
I bit my lip so I wouldn’t laugh.
“The Obstinate Daughter?” Suzanne said. “That’s the name of a restaurant?”
“Yes,” I said. “During the American Revolution the Carolinas refused to surrender and so the press in England began to refer to us as the Obstinate Daughter.”
“Brilliant!” Suzanne said. “The Brits have always had a way with words.”
“Do you think that’s a true story?” Char said to the QB.
“I’m only sixty-four, not two hundred and forty something,” Momma said with a sniff.
“Oh! My apologies! I thought you were there! Right on the front lines!” Char said with a look of mock horror.
Even the queen laughed.
It wasn’t easy saying good night, and it wasn’t easy saying good-bye at the airport. Not at all. Char had stayed behind, still pouting because we were leaving. When she told me she wasn’t coming I thought, Oh boy, she still has a lot of growing up left to do. I didn’t like who she was becoming, which was a completely self-centered pain-in-the-neck diva. She was all over Momma when she was sewing for her but pretty much uninterested in her well-being. What did that say about her?
I got our boarding passes while Momma stood with our bags, saying good-bye to Suzanne. There was definitely something cooking between them. I thought that after our father left us, Momma would never let another man into her heart. But Suzanne was solidly in Momma’s heart and most likely got in there because she was so completely disarming. Having had next to no exposure to female impersonators beyond Monty Python on television, Momma had let her guard down around Suzanne, and was probably as confused about her sexuality at first as I was when Charlie came clean with me. But now she knew better and was having a difficult time leaving her.
Suzanne was standing there, her head wrapped in a black silk kerchief and wearing only minimal makeup, looking more like Johnny Depp’s chubby father than anyone else who