I looked around and decided that the Las Vegas airport personnel had seen it all. From Elvis impersonators traveling in costume, to queens of every stripe, to big winners wearing diamond-encrusted Rolexes and big losers crying in their beer, the Las Vegas airport was as diverse and exciting as the Strip itself.

But for all the excitement and off-the-wall experiences we’d shared in Las Vegas, there wasn’t anything to prepare us for what we found when we got home to Sullivan’s Island. It appeared that Holly was reading a statement to members of the media, gathered in our front yard. There was a man standing beside her, who I assumed was the lawyer she had spoken of. Our taxi pulled into the driveway and I all but jumped out of the car and ran toward the front steps where Holly stood.

“That’s all,” she said.

“No questions,” her lawyer said. “Thank you for coming.”

They turned to go into the house, and as it became clear nothing else was going to happen, the media began to disperse.

I ran right up the steps.

“Holly! What the hell?”

She turned on her heel.

“You’re home! Oh! I am so glad to see you, Leslie! Where’s Momma?”

“Paying the taxi driver. Can you help with luggage?” I said.

“I’m Mark Tanenbaum,” her lawyer said and extended his hand. “Where’s the taxi? I’ll get the bags.”

I shook his hand. He seemed like a nice man.

“On that side of the house. I’m Leslie. Thanks.”

In a few minutes, we were all in the house, bags delivered to bedrooms, and we gathered in the kitchen around the table, where much of our lives seemed to play out.

Holly took a pitcher of tea from the refrigerator and filled four glasses with ice. Mark sat in Momma’s usual chair and she harrumphed loudly. Instinctively, Mark got up and sat in another chair.

“Tea, Momma?”

“Thank you,” Momma said. “Now, would one of you like to tell me what’s going on or should I watch the six o’clock news?”

“This is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard of, Mrs. Jensen,” Mark said. “I’ve been a lawyer for over thirty years.”

“Can you cut to the chase, please?” Momma said. The queen was not amused.

“Yes. The parents of Sharon MacLean told our chief of police that they’re filing a civil suit against Holly blaming her for the wrongful death of their daughter. They are seeking damages of one hundred million dollars.”

“Good luck with that,” Momma said. “This child doesn’t have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of, pardon my language.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Next they’ll file a suit against you for harboring a criminal and for keeping a public nuisance, namely the beehives. That is, if they can find a lawyer to take the case.”