“I think he’s a little cracked. I really do,” I whispered back. “His arrival was just so blatant. I mean, where’s his consideration for Leslie’s feelings?”
“Thank you,” she said and resumed reading, satisfied with my answer.
Then she put her paper down again.
“Do you think she’s going to patch things up with him?”
“No. I don’t. Look, Leslie is super cool with Charlie’s choices. She’s not super cool having a female impersonator for a husband, especially one who wants to live in drag twenty-four seven.”
“I imagine that would be pretty complicated.”
I dropped a slice of bread in the toaster and pulled down the lever.
“And I think you might be relieved to know that there was not one single person at the wedding I recognized.”
“I was waiting for the telephone to start ringing.”
“Well, I’m just saying I don’t think Charlie found the audience he was hoping for. What are you reading so intently?”
“The obits. What else? Do you know there are people in here younger than me?”
“I imagine so. Life’s a gift, that’s why they call today the present.”
“You’re a regular Hallmark card over there, missy.”
“I was just kidding.”
My toast popped up. I put it on a paper towel and buttered it. Momma continued reading the paper and I stood eating my breakfast over the sink.
“So I’m working four shifts at Publix this week. They’re only six hours each. Do you think you or Leslie could keep an eye on the boys for me?”
“Of course! I think they’re going to need a lot of attention for the foreseeable future,” Momma said. “I’m sure Sharon is going to try and establish authority over them. From everything I’ve seen and heard, she’s a tough cookie.”
“She is,” I said and wondered what was going on with me that I was agreeing with Momma right and left. “And thanks. I’m gonna go over there now because I know Archie and his bride are taking off soon. I want to be sure the boys get a good breakfast.”
“I know where to find you,” she said.
I was just putting some things together to take next door—a book I was reading, my toothbrush, and a pair of pajamas—when the phone rang. Leslie must’ve picked it up, and a few minutes later she came into the kitchen.
“Is there any coffee left?”
“Good morning!” Momma said. “Decent people have been up for hours, you know.”
“It’s the weekend, Momma. Decent people also sleep later on the weekends.”
“Don’t sass me,” Momma said. “I can still turn you over my knee.”
Leslie rolled her eyes and I poured her a mug of coffee and handed it to her, shaking my head. I thought, Well, that was an ironic thing to say for someone who had spent most of her life in bed until Leslie returned. But when I looked back at Momma there was a tiny smile creeping across her face. She was having fun.
“I’m having breakfast with Charlie this morning,” Leslie said.
“Why?” Momma said.
“Because I have to get some things straight between us,” Leslie said.
“Good luck with that,” I said. “But let me know how it works out. I’ll be next door.”
I rinsed out my mug and blew them a little kiss.
It was a beautiful day and there was no humidity to speak of. Spring had officially returned to Sullivan’s Island. More and more flowers were blooming, and all the bushes had new growth. The azaleas had reached their peak and the magnolias were about to pop open. Confederate jasmine and fig ivy were on the crawl again, climbing and winding around anything in their path. And all those dahlias I planted earlier in the month were coming soon. I was more excited about them than anything else I’d ever planted.
Last spring, just by chance, I’d gone to the Citadel Mall and saw an exhibition put on by the Charleston Garden Club. That was the first time in my life I’d ever seen a dahlia, and I fell in love with them right away. They were so intricate, they almost looked like origami flowers made of tissue paper. And they bloomed in a riot of colors, too many to remember. I decided right then and there that I was going to grow dahlias, even though they weren’t fond of our zone or of the coast. So, I worked hard to create the perfect environment for them by mulching leaves