“I’ll tell you what. You and your momma put on your best dresses and I’ll take you to Morels Steakhouse over at the Venetian for a nice dinner tonight. My treat. Tell Char if she can rip herself away from the full-length mirrors to come and join us.”

I giggled then. It was true. Lately, Char was finding mirrors to be fairly irresistible.

“We might have made a monster,” she said.

“We may have done just that,” I said and thought about Suzanne’s generosity. “This is so nice of you to take us out. I’ll miss you. Momma will miss you more, of course, but I’ll miss you a lot.”

“I’m not going to know what to do with myself when y’all are gone.”

“She’s even got you saying ‘y’all,’” I said. “And you want to know something crazy?”

“Sure.”

“I’m using all feminine pronouns with Char, as I should. At least I think I’m supposed to. And I’m using them for you, too, but it doesn’t feel right.”

Suzanne laughed so hard then, I thought she’d have to sit down and catch her breath.

“Leslie? You may call me however and whatever pops out of your mouth. I know this crazy world of Las Vegas isn’t like home. And I know you both love me to death. And I love both of you to death. People are too screwed up over being politically correct all the time.”

“Thanks, Suzanne. Momma and I feel like a couple of country bumpkins next to all this glamour.”

“Well, don’t. I think you’re fabulous!”

At eight that night we were seated at a gorgeous table in Morels. The QB ordered lobster, I ordered a small filet mignon, and Suzanne and Char ordered rib-eyes.

“I never have lobster,” Momma said. “I just never think to order it.”

The truth was she never went anywhere where lobster was on the menu. In fact, she seldom went anywhere at all.

“The queen should have lobster every single night if she likes,” Suzanne said, smiling at Momma with all of her heart.

“And champagne?” Momma said.

“Darling, you’re the queen bee,” Suzanne said and touched the back of Momma’s hand tenderly. “And the queen will always have champagne if that is what she wants!”

“Agreed!” Char said.

Sometimes, there’s a sixth sense that kicks in when someone around you is deathly ill, and it seemed to me that Suzanne was acting on that instinct. It didn’t matter. We would know soon enough. The Doctors of Death at MUSC would tell us. But all that was to be on another day. I sat back in my chair and looked at the four of us. What a foursome we were! Char had certainly been a wonderful host. And Suzanne, too. Suzanne and Char could teach the South a thing or two about how to show amazing hospitality.