knocking,” he said.
“Hi, Dad,” Tyler said.
“You’re right! We didn’t,” I said. “Would you like a part of a chocolate milk shake?”
“Does this mean we have to go home?” Hunter said.
“I’d love a swallow or two,” Archie said. “I haven’t had a milk shake in probably twenty years.”
Tyler, sensing a good mood in his father, quickly got another glass and said, “Then you have to have one! It’s the best!”
Hunter said, “Miss Holly’s milk shake is better than McDonald’s!”
I poured a glass for Archie and he took a sip.
“This is amazing! Why have I deprived myself all these years?”
“Have a seat!” I said.
Tyler said, “Give Dad the rest and me and my brother . . .”
“My brother and I . . .” I said, correcting his grammar.
“My brother and I can make another one.”
“Have at it!” I said. “You know what to do.”
Archie and I watched as Hunter and Tyler put all the ingredients into the blender, covered it, and turned it on. The high-pitched noise was deafening as the hard ice was crunched over and over by the blades and turned into snow, thickening the shake. When the racket died down, they turned the blender off. I got up to help them pour.
“That’s heavy,” I said. “Let me give you a hand.”
I poured the creamy shake out into three glasses and refilled Archie’s glass with the balance.
“Well, isn’t everyone having a party this afternoon?”
We looked up to see Sharon in the doorway.
“We just made milk shakes. Can we offer you one?” I said.
“You must be kidding,” she said. “Do you know how many calories are in those things?”
I wanted to say, A simple no thank you would’ve been nicer. But I didn’t.
“It’s delicious,” Tyler said.
Sharon looked at him and did not respond. Instead, she took a bite out of Archie.
“I sent you over here to get them and instead I find you here all cozy.”
“That’s right,” Archie said. “I am enjoying a moment with my boys. Is that all right with you?”
She was so flustered because he didn’t jump up and kiss her behind and grab the boys by the neck and drag them out into the street that she turned on her heel and flounced out of the house.
“Bye-bye, Sharon,” I said and gave a tiny wave to the thin air. “See ya.”
Tyler started laughing. Then Hunter got the giggles.
Archie looked at me and said, “She can be a little demanding.”
“Really?” I said. “I hadn’t noticed.” I’d had it with him. I was furious.
Now Tyler and Hunter became hysterical laughing.
“Calm down, boys. You’re going to make yourselves sick!” I said.
Archie stood up. “Well, it’s time to go home and face the music.”
“Thanks, Miss Holly!” the boys said together.
I said to them, “You boys run ahead. I want to talk to your dad.”
They put their glasses in the sink and ran out of the house.
“So, Archie?”
“I know, I know,” he said. “Marry in haste, repent at leisure.”
“Well, there’s that, but I was thinking of something else.”
“What?”
“Where is your spine?”
“What?” He looked very annoyed.
“Just what I said. You can’t let Sharon continue like this. She’s a tyrant! The boys can’t have a milk shake? You should go tell Miss Perfect that they were made with skim milk, frozen yogurt, sugar-free chocolate, and Sullivan’s Island ice cubes, which might or might not be the most suspicious ingredient.”
“I’ll tell her.”
“You’re missing the point, Archie.”
“What?”
“Your boys are depressed. They need help. Professional help. I’m not kidding.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Ask yourself this. Are they enjoying their summer? Who’s taking them swimming? Who’s having their friends for sleepovers? Or camping out in the backyard? Where’s their vacation?”
“I think they’re doing fine. This has been a tough adjustment.”
“My point is this. They’re not adjusting, and I really think that if you can’t bring yourself to stand up to Sharon, you need to take them to see someone who can teach them coping skills.”
“Well, I’ll think about what you’ve said.”
With that, he got up and left. I realized a few minutes after he left that he was seething with anger. I had said some outrageous things. I knew that. But if I didn’t tell him, who would? Well, guess what? I was seething, too. I went out to my yard and saw that my dahlias were beginning to open. They were already astonishing. I checked my bees’ pans for water. It was as hot as the hinges on the back door of hell. Sometimes late afternoons were more unbearable than midday. I refilled the pans and muttered to myself