Creola's Moonbeam (23 page)

“Are you quite certain you are up to company? This week you’ve seemed a bit under the weather.”

“That’s your all-too-active imagination at work again,” growled Beatrice. “I’ll not have you behaving in an impertinent way. I truly want to entertain your sister at my cottage.”

I had been brought to my knees by the queen mother.

“Thank you, Beatrice. It’ll be fun. I know Mary Pearle will be completely fascinated by you.”

“Of course, she will be! My guests are rarely disappointed.”

I got an idea. “Beatrice, you remember that my sister is divorced.”

“Oh yes, been there, done that, dear.”

“Well, I’m very worried about her, especially since her daughter’s wedding is over. The planning kept her busy for weeks, and now she has very little to occupy her time. Mary Pearle is awfully forlorn now that both of her girls are out of her home.”

“Poor dear. I’m glad she’s coming to be with you. We’ll boost her spirits, you’ll see.”

“Your friend Oscar sounds like a charming fellow. Do you think he might take an interest in her?”

“Oscar? Heavens no. That man is too old even for
me
!”

“Didn’t you say he’s just back from a safari?”

“So he says. Travel has nothing to do with age! Besides, don’t you remember my telling you that Oscar must avoid the sun? I’m convinced the man remained in his tent the entire time. As well, Oscar would never consider shooting a gun, he’s anti-NRA. I think the old boy was merely after fresh conversation for dinner parties.”

“I assumed he was — oh, I’m embarrassed. I shouldn’t try to matchmake.”

“Don’t fret! You were only being compassionate. Your sister, if she’s even half as darling as you, deserves to find companionship. She’s only experienced the one love? My lord, she’s a novice!”

“A novice who’s been wounded.”

“All the more reason for the universe to send healing her way. I feel it in my bones, your Mary Pearle will find another.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“In matters of the heart, I usually am. But, for now, let’s settle our plans. We can work on your sister’s romance once I get to know her.”

I thanked my friend for the kind invitation and for her heartening comments. “Looks like you are always giving wise counsel to us Butlar girls. You’re a later edition of our Creola.”

“That’s rare praise, indeed.”

“Sincerely meant. Mary Pearle and I will make ourselves available any time that’s convenient for you and Oscar. I do insist on bringing the dessert. I make a mean key lime pie.”

“Rubbish. When I invite, I prepare.”

On the way to the dinner,
I gave my sister a bit of background. “Don’t forget, Beatrice is rather eccentric, and I have no idea what Oscar will be like. You should be prepared for almost anything.”

“Listen lady, I’m tickled pink that she’s gotten you going on your book. My only disappointment is that I’ve just arrived. I wanted some time with my baby sister before meeting her friends.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“I’m not complaining, Honey, this is really a grand welcome for me. And the dinner party is also serving to get you off the computer! I’m afraid you’ll soon go blind from staring at that screen.”

“I thought you were glad I was working again?”

“Okay, so I’m contradictory.”

As we walked up to Beatrice’s cottage, the door suddenly swung open. There stood Oscar in full safari dress.

“Welcome to Kenya. I am Oscar. I am your official guide for this evening.” With that, the wizened, gray-haired Scottish gentleman stepped aside, and, extending his arm, motioned for us to enter.

Mary Pearle pursed her lips at me and whispered, “And heeeeerrre we go!”

“I told you to expect the unexpected.”

All manner of strange smells wafted from the kitchen. Beatrice’s usual array of books and objects of art remained scattered about but were complemented by photos of animals in the jungle, exotic plants, and huge African masks. A seven-foot stuffed python curled down from the chandelier and onto the dining room table.

Covered with bamboo, the table was set sparsely with wooden bowls and a single ladle for each of the four diners. Stereo speakers, which ordinarily played classical music, squawked and hooted with the songs and sounds of tropical birds.

Oscar put a hand to his heart. “Would you ladies like a drink?”

“Yes, yes, please!”

Beatrice danced into the room. Dressed in colorful African fabric and wearing flowers atop her turban-wrapped hair, she began beating a large drum, which hung from her shoulder by a colorful strap.

“Welcome, friends, welcome to my country! I call it the Jungle of Mexico Gulf.”

Everyone laughed.

“Don’t laugh at me! My late husband, ‘What’s His Name,’ and I played this very drum at a royal luau in Maui. It was a glorious experience. I do enjoy a good drum, don’t you, Mary Pearle?”

I looked over at my sister. Mary Pearle’s face was frozen into a toothy grin. I recalled my own surprise when first Beatrice turned the cartwheel. Tonight the woman had outdone herself.

“You are the Lady Mary Pearle, elder sister of Royal Princess Honeybee, I presume?”

“Well, ah, oh yes, I, I, I suppose I am,” stuttered my suddenly dumbstruck sibling, the Lady Mary Pearle.

The meal was scrumptious,
featuring some sort of delicious fish — Beatrice wouldn’t say exactly what it was. I was afraid to ask. There were bananas and mangos, tubule, and odd, sweet-tasting breads along with shrimp (Beatrice rarely served a meal without some form of shrimp).

For dessert, we were treated to a four-layer chocolate cake. As our hostess explained, “I deemed it appropriate to have a layer for each member of our delegation from the Jungle of Mexico Gulf.”

“Chocolate cake, my darling?” questioned Oscar. “Your dinner was divine, but never once on my journey to Africa was I served chocolate cake.”

“That’s all the more reason for you to have it tonight, dearest!”

Our foursome enjoyed thick, rich coffee along with the dessert while Oscar regaled us with tales of the safari. Contrary to Beatrice’s theory, the fellow did indeed leave his tent. He joked that he took more photographs “than there are animals in Africa.”

“It’s a shame I forgot to put film in my bloody camera!”

“Oh, Oscar,” I groaned, “What a tragedy. Tell you what, let’s split a second piece of cake. It’s often said that chocolate is the universal healing salve for all missed opportunities!”

Oscar agreed and happily took more cake, a whole piece.

“Count me in, too,” echoed the Lady Mary Pearle.

Beatrice whispered in Oscar’s ear.

“Guns, Beatrice? Of course, not. There were no guns! We were a most civilized lot. The hunters in our party were only interested in capturing the animals on film. Blast me for being such an absentminded old duff!”

“Now, now, dear. It was more important that you had a superb time. Despite what they say, most people really aren’t interested in other travelers’ giraffes. Besides, you have those images burned in your mind’s eye. How much more accessible is that than having to flip through an album?”

“Right you are, as always, my dear.”

“What do you say we adjourn to more comfortable chairs?” suggested Beatrice. As we stood up, I insisted that I would host our next event. “I won’t promise pythons and bird sounds, but I’ll prepare my failsafe pork roast.”

“Pork? Sounds like a luau to me,” said Beatrice. “I’ll bring my drum and do a hula for you!”

Mary Pearle remarked, “I’ll stay over for
that
. Beatrice, will you bring your chocolate cake?”

“Of course!”

My sister
hmmmed
as she licked the last drip of icing from her fingers.

I may never offer my key lime pie again.

Our after-dinner celebration became more serene as Mary Pearle was given an abbreviated tour of “The Queen Beatrice Gallery,” my new term for Beatrice’s enchanted cottage.

“Is it everything I said?” I whispered.

My sister, a mathematics teacher and not the emotionally involved art lover I am, nodded her appreciation. “And more, I can well see how spending time here has given rise to your creativity.”

Beatrice lounged in her soft, comfortable chair, watching and savoring the praise of her Dear Ones’ work, while Oscar saw to the dishes.

She called to him, “Do you feel demoted, Oscar?”

He waved his towel at her. “Not when I’ve had the pleasure of serving three such beautiful ladies.”

“Scottish by blood, but Italian in his zest for the female,” declared Beatrice.

As we walked down the beach
toward the condo, Mary Pearle went on and on about the evening, how much she enjoyed the company, the food, and, in particular, how much she enjoyed Beatrice and Oscar.

“They are quite a devoted couple, aren’t they?”

“Couple? Oh heavens no! Those two have been friends for years. In fact, I suggested that Oscar, even though he’s much your senior, could be an interesting man for you to date.”

“What!”

“Yes, I did. A well-traveled and fascinating fellow like Oscar could be just what the doctor ordered for you.”

“First of all, I’m totally mortified. Secondly, I wish you’d just mind your own business, Harriette Ophelia Butlar Newberry!”

“That was quite a mouthful, big sister.”

“And was meant to get your attention, little sis.”

“Don’t get your panties in a wad. Beatrice stopped me right away, saying Oscar was even too old for
her
.”

“I cannot believe you did that. It’s a good thing you didn’t tell me before I met him. I could just shoot you. Besides, I’ve already missed out on a great date with Oscar. He went on the safari without me.”

“See, you
are
interested. It’s not too late, you know.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sakes, quit.”

“Spoil-sport!”

“Yeah, yeah. Dear sister, you ready are fortunate, you do realize? Not everyone can marry a prince like Beau.”

“Well, I can’t wait to pass on that compliment.”

“Don’t you dare tell him. It’s a sister thing, like the client-attorney privilege. Besides, your husband has more than enough ego already.”

“Good, things sound back to normal.”

“I’m glad you think so. Now, Honey, going back to my original comment about Beatrice and Oscar, I remain convinced they have some history that even
you
may have overlooked.”

“I will admit one thing: Beatrice is full of surprises and mystery. Maybe you’re right about her and Oscar. Bravo for you, Mary Pearle! I’ll have to sharpen my perceptive skills next time we gather.”

“Score one for my team. Tell you what, Honey, let’s sit and watch the moon for a while and let that glorious meal try to digest itself. I do have something else on my agenda.”