Queen Bee (Lowcountry Tales #12) - Dorothea Benton Frank Page 0,22

I’d grown into a citizen of the world, or so I thought, and saw that both Momma and Leslie were always setting me up for a game of Gotcha! To this very day, Momma still gave me suspicious looks, cutting her cold eyes at me, freezing my heart. All of this started over a cheap, stupid sugar bowl.

But the real truth? Leslie looked like a clone of Momma when Momma was a striking young woman. That was the underlying reason for all of their vitriol. I looked like the man who left her high and dry and gave her back the beach house on Sullivan’s Island that had belonged to her family for generations anyway. In retrospect, it didn’t seem like she got such a sweet deal.

I finally separated enough felt and packed it in a canvas tote bag with my glue gun.

The phone rang. It was probably Leslie, because no one else ever called. It was.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Is Mom awake?”

She sounded terrible, as though she’d been crying.

“Are you all right?”

“Just put Momma on the phone, okay?”

“Hang on,” I said. Sure, sweetheart, anything you want, princess . . .

I put the phone on the counter and went down the hall to peek in our mother’s room. Before I got there, I heard the snoring. Great God in heaven, that woman could snore like every hog in hell was singing the “Hallelujah” chorus from Handel’s Messiah. I went back to the kitchen and picked up the receiver.

“She’s sawing logs,” I said.

“It’s not even ten o’clock,” she said in a very whiny voice.

“What do you want from me? What’s going on, Leslie? You sound awful.”

“You know that trip to Atlantic City I took with Charlie last week?”

“Let me guess. You won a million dollars?”

“No. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, and anyway, I can’t talk about it. Every time I . . .”

Then she broke down into tears, sobbing like a baby. Now, we all know my sister was difficult, but I didn’t like to hear her cry like this. In fact, I couldn’t remember ever hearing her cry like this.

“Leslie, come on now. Talk to me.”

“I can’t. I’m coming home.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, clean my room. I’ll be there tomorrow night.”

Oh, yes, princess, I’m already running for the vacuum.

“How long are you staying?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is Charlie coming?”

“No. Charlie is not coming. He’s going . . .”

“Where?”

“To Las Vegas.”

“For what?”

“Oh, hell, you’re going to find out anyway. To audition to be in a show. Dressed as a woman.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

“You heard me correctly. Charlie is a female impersonator.”

“Just get yourself home. We’ll get this all sorted out.”

Holy hell, I thought. Holy hell.

“There can only be one queen bee per hive,” I said.

“But what if another one wants to move in?” Hunter said.

“Then there’s gonna be trouble.”

Chapter Six

Bee Truthful

In the morning, I didn’t tell our mother anything except that Leslie had called and was coming for a visit, but not that she was coming alone. I didn’t tell her about Charlie and what she said he was up to. I’d always thought there was something different about him, like he was hiding something. Dang, I was sure sorry to be right about that one. Frankly, I was surprised. I didn’t understand why anyone would want to be a female impersonator in Las Vegas or anywhere. I knew I’d been leading a sheltered life. My mind just didn’t go to things like seeing my name in neon lights. Besides, this was Leslie’s story to tell Momma, not mine.

I told my bees all about Leslie and Charlie, but that was entirely different than telling a person. They began doing their waggle dance, which they generally did when they wanted their sisters to follow them to a new location to slurp up nectar and pollen from a different patch of flowers. I like to think they waggled because the news was upsetting to them. Maybe they were warning me to be careful. Did I really want to live with Leslie again? How long was she staying? Did I have any options? Not really.

I worked at the library that day, and Tyler and Hunter were among the dozen or so children who attended the workshop. I sat with them on the low chairs and helped them choose the colors of their petals as I moved from child to child. I’d put together an example to show them what we were going to make. Hunter asked me for a small

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024