Queen Bee (Lowcountry Tales #12) - Dorothea Benton Frank Page 0,117

I’d ever been. Where was Leslie? Her bed was empty. Hmmm.

“Did you know honey never goes bad?” I said.

Ted said, “No, I did not know that. That’s amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” I said.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Forever Bee

I got up on the early side of morning, as I usually did. To my surprise, Suzanne was in the kitchen. She had made coffee. Suzanne in the morning, reading the paper wearing a terrycloth bathrobe, was a lot less theatrical than Suzanne in the afternoon or evening. Her gray hair was all spiky, and without all that eyeliner and mascara, she looked more like a kindly grandfather.

“Good morning,” I said.

“Good morning. There’s coffee.”

“Thanks! Did you sleep well?”

“I did, but your momma had a bit of a night.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we might have overdone it yesterday. I’m guessing she doesn’t get a lot of exercise.”

“You could say that,” I said. “Want a little more?” I filled my mug and was ready to top off Suzanne’s.

“Sure. Thanks,” she said. “She was full of aches and pains. I found some ointment in the bathroom and rubbed her legs. Then she slept well after that. She’s still asleep.”

“Well, I’m sure she’s still getting over the surgery, too.”

“That’s what I thought also,” Suzanne said and refolded the front section of the paper. “Did you have fun last night? Who was that nice-looking man you didn’t introduce me to?”

“Oh, Lord, Suzanne, I’m sorry! That’s Ted Meyers. He’s the chief of police on the island. I think I’m going to marry him and have his babies. I’ll be sure to introduce you to him the next time he’s here.”

“I see. And how long have you two been seeing each other?”

“Last night was our second date,” I said, knowing she’d think I was jumping the gun.

“You Jensen girls don’t mess around, do you?” She was smiling. “Get right down to business.”

“Nope. No flies on us.”

Leslie tootled in.

“G’morning!”

“There’s coffee,” Suzanne said. “So, when everyone’s caffeine intake has been satisfied, there’s something we should discuss.”

“Fire away,” I said.

“Lay it on me, baby,” Leslie said.

“Okay, well, here it is. I know I’ve come along late in the game, and I’m also keenly aware that the dress code of Sullivan’s Island isn’t the same as Las Vegas. They don’t have a lot of men like me around here, so I want you to know, I’m going to tone it down a bit. You know, for the sake of propriety.”

“Don’t change a thing!” I said. “Screw the neighbors!”

“Yeah! Screw the neighbors!” Leslie said. Then she got a peculiar look on her face and said, “Uh, actually, Holly, you and I should probably have a chat later.”

“Fine,” I said. “Whatever.” I knew exactly what she did last night.

“Anyway,” Suzanne continued, “I adore your mother, as you know. One of the other reasons I want to marry her is so I can have the legal right to make decisions about her health care with the two of you. As an equal partner.”

“I had not even thought of that,” I said.

“Me, either,” Leslie said. “But you’re right.”

“But I think we should have a prenup to protect her assets. Not mine. But I don’t want anyone to think I want to take anything that is hers and rightfully yours. For me? I have much more to protect than she does, but I have no heirs. If I get hit by a truck, you ladies can divide the spoils among yourselves.”

“I love you, Suzanne,” Leslie said.

“Me, too,” I said.

“Call me Buster from now on.”

“I can’t,” I said. “You’ll always be Suzanne to me.”

“You’ll ruin your mystique!” Leslie said.

Suzanne laughed.

“Okay. Well, then call me what you’d like. The reason for this is in my experience I knew a young lady I dearly loved who became deathly ill, and, not having any family, I volunteered to see her through her illness. That was all fine, as long as she was conscious. But when she became unconscious, and because she had no living will, the end of her life was disastrous. It should’ve been a peaceful end that followed her wishes. I cannot go through that again and I cannot leave the queen.”

“Oh! What a terrible story! I’m so sorry!”

“So I’m wondering if you have a family attorney I might use to draw up a simple document for us.”

“I’ll call Mark,” I said. “He’s not a wills and estate lawyer, but he’ll know someone.”

“I’m going to go about my morning toilette, and then I’d love some company to purchase a rock for my dove that’s worthy of

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