“I know what you’re thinking, but I’m going to tell you something you don’t know. I am so in love with your mother, I can’t see straight. Deeply and truly in love. She has more spunk and wicked sass in her than any woman I’ve ever met. She makes me laugh from head to toe and she makes me happy like I haven’t been since, well, in too many years.”

Leslie was the first to speak.

“Well, then, Suzanne Velour? Welcome to the Lowcountry!”

I thought, Oh boy. How’s this going to work?

Chapter 33: Bee Leave

“Did you know that monarch butterflies migrate?” I asked Tyler. “It’s another reason to plant goldenrod. They love it, too.”

“Where do the butterflies go?” he asked.

“Some go to Palm Beach,” Suzanne said. “The rest go to Boca.”

“Don’t listen to her,” I said and laughed.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Bee Leave

Momma opened her eyes and saw Suzanne before she saw Leslie or me. She closed her eyes again, opened them, and smiled.

“Suzanne,” she whispered with so much tenderness, I couldn’t believe my ears.

“My dove, I’m right here,” Suzanne said. “Just rest.”

And that was a preview of how the following days would unfold. Suzanne, true to her word, never left Momma’s side except to get something Momma needed. We picked up an air mattress from Bed Bath & Beyond and Suzanne slept on the floor right next to Momma’s bed. Momma’s procedure was more invasive than they thought, there was more cancer than the PET scan showed, and so her recovery time would be longer. The good news was that her team of oncologists at MUSC were confident that they’d gotten it all.

Word got around that Momma had had some kind of surgery, and of course, people came to call. They brought casseroles, shrimp salad, cold salads, pound cakes, tomatoes or basil or peppers from their gardens—the usual things. Suzanne was the gatekeeper, deciding who Momma could see and how long they could stay.

Maureen was the first to knock on our door the day we brought her home. She came with brownies and curiosity. If Suzanne’s appearance surprised her, she didn’t show it.

“How’s the queen?”

“She’s doing just great, but she tires quickly,” Suzanne said.

“That’s probably the anesthesia,” Maureen said. “My mother was a nurse. Once a patient reaches a certain age, it’s harder to get over the anesthesia than it is to get over the surgery.”

“That seems to be the case,” Suzanne said.

“Don’t let it scare you if she seems a little out of it,” Maureen said.

“If she hasn’t scared me up until now, I doubt that she ever will,” Suzanne said.

I walked Maureen to the door, and we stopped to chat for a few minutes on the front steps.

“Suzanne, huh?” she said.