Queen Bee (Lowcountry Tales #12) - Dorothea Benton Frank Page 0,116

Jensen, you might just have a little devil in you that’s ready to dance.”

“Ted, I’m thirty years old. You know I never squandered my flowers, so to speak.”

“Squandered your flowers? Oh, God! Holly! Where do you come up with this stuff?”

“Because I’m a big nerd. DuBose Heyward. You’re not the only one who wrote lousy poetry.”

“DuBose Heyward who wrote Porgy and Bess with George Gershwin?”

“Fun fact. It was his wife, Dorothy, who adapted his book Porgy for the stage, and Porgy and Bess was born. Gershwin’s musical came later, and it made less money than Dorothy’s production. But he was a genius. They all were, actually.”

“I can’t wait to hear what qualifies as genius in your mind.”

“You’re kidding, right? The guy was one of the greatest composers of the twentieth century! Rhapsody in Blue, An American in Paris, “Funny Face,” “Love Is Here to Stay,” “I Got Rhythm” . . . need I say more?”

“And I imagine you know all the lyrics to all the songs?”

“Of course!”

“The same way I do with Cole Porter?”

“What?”

“I’ve worn out three vinyl albums of Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Cole Porter Song Book.”

We were a match made in heaven. I hoped. Everything with Ted was as easy as everything with Archie had been circumspect. Laughter came easily. Kindness was in abundance. And we had a lot in common. Not to mention no small amount of heat for each other.

After devouring platters of fried shrimp and fish with french fries, coleslaw, and hush puppies, all washed down with a few Budweisers, we paid our bill and went out to the deck to watch the sunset.

“Would you like another beer?”

“Oh, no, I’m just fine. Dinner was delicious,” I said. “Thanks.”

“And it was great fun. So, tell me what else is happening in Holly World.”

“Just this afternoon, my momma got engaged to an old female impersonator named Suzanne Velour. Looks like she’s going to beat me to the altar.”

“Excuse me? Can you back up just a bit? A female impersonator?”

He started laughing so hard, I thought I might have to call EMS. I laughed with him because on the surface it seemed, well, unimaginable that a crabby old ultraconservative divorcée of a certain age from a place like Sullivan’s Island should wind up married to a female impersonator named Suzanne Velour.

“Yep, isn’t that crazy? But that’s my momma. She’s the queen bee in our hive and she’s going to do as she pleases.”

“It’s out there. And you approve?”

“At first I was like, whoa! But after some consideration and seeing them together? You do know that right in the middle of that whole insanity with Archie’s crazy wife Sharon, we had to take Momma in for surgery? She’s got some kind of liver cancer.”

“No, I’m sorry. I did not know that. Is she all right now?”

“Yes, I think so, until it comes back. Anyway, Suzanne flew in from Las Vegas and never left her side. And she makes Momma so happy. You should hear them laughing.”

“Okay, so there’s a missing piece to this picture. How did your mother come to know a female impersonator from Las Vegas? Some underground version of Match?”

“Ah, yes! That little detail. So, remember my sister, Leslie?”

“Sure. She was a pretty girl. She married that guy Charlie and moved to Ohio, right?”

“Correct. But then, after six years of married bliss, Charlie revealed a little secret he’d been keeping from Leslie.”

I unpacked the rest of the story and Ted was stunned.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, right?”

“Yeah, I know it’s a lot to process.”

“Wow,” he said.

“And then there’s me. I keep bees, as you know. I decorate cakes at Publix and I volunteer at the library. And sometimes, when all the stars are aligned, I get to substitute-teach at the Sullivan’s Island Elementary School. I am officially the most boring person in my family.”

“I think I like you just as you are. Don’t change a thing.”

“I won’t, because I don’t think my family needs another ounce of drama.”

The horizon and then the sky put on a show of such spectacular dimensions that all the color of my family story paled. I wasn’t embarrassed. What was I supposed to do about them? The good news was that Ted seemed much more amused than horrified. And when he took me home, there was an extended period of time spent in the car saying good night. I floated into bed that night. This was love, and I was astonished by its power. More than that, I was happier than

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