Sweet Mystery by Lynn Emery

money.”
    “Hey, you’re spoilin’ my image of the
party-hard blues woman livin’ for today. Come on now, cher, I was
havin’ fun livin’ vicariously.” Marcelle grinned at her
impishly.
    “Oh, I partied. For a long time I was young
and stupid. I’d have a lot more money if I hadn’t been.”
    Rae thought of the first three years after
leaving home when she concentrated on forgetting Belle Rose and
Darcy. She’d come close to losing herself in drugs. A succession of
men did little to ease the loneliness.
    “Rae, about Darcy...” Marcelle glanced around
to make sure no one was sitting close by. “Are you–”
    “Over him? Oh yeah!” Rae gazed out of the
window at the passing vehicles. “It took me a while to figure out
why he got to me.”
    “And..?”
    “He treated me special. Darcy had a way of
making me feel like I was the center of his universe. I needed to
feel that way, Marcelle.” Rae thought of the ache of being treated
as an outcast during her childhood.
    “I know. But you hid it well.”
    Rae reached out and squeezed Marcelle’s hand.
“You stuck by me when the other kids were treating me like dirt,
even in high school. You’re the best, girlfriend.” Her voice broke.
Outside her family, Marcelle had been one of the few people she
could count on to stand with her.
    Marcelle squeezed her hand back. “So are you.
And I’m glad you didn’t let that slimy night crawler ruin your
life.”
    “Teenage intensity! I thought I’d die when he
cut me off cold.” Rae shook her head slowly. “I wanted to be loved
so badly. The oily, charming surface seemed like genuine
caring.”
    “Little weasel.” Marcelle took a sip of her
soft drink. “You know what? He’s been sorry ever since. Had the
nerve to tell me you were the most exciting woman he’d ever been
with.”
    “Now that’s pitiful,” Rae said with a sharp
laugh. “No wonder he’s got so many ex-wives.” She sighed. “Lord,
I’m glad adolescence is behind me. Isn’t it something how it takes
all your twenties to get over it though?”
    “Who’s over it? I still think my nose is too
big. And Carmela Tate is not forgiven,” Marcelle said.
    Rae looked at her in astonishment. “Oh
please, girl. We were fifteen. So Carmela told everyone your bra
size – so what?”
    “And she waved my little double A cup she’d
sneaked from my gym locker.” Marcelle looked just as angry now.
    “Everyone knew Carmela was a jealous big
mouth. I warned you not to tell her your business. But you wouldn’t
listen.”
    “She’s still like that. I saw her at mass the
other day. Had the nerve to say Freddie Jr. made an eighty-nine on
a quiz while her Darvin made a ninety-four. Pooh-ya!”
    “Get over it, Marcelle.” Rae laughed out
loud. “What do you care what she says? Gee, small-town life.”
    “That’s right, Rae. Can you take it after
being in big cities all this time?” Marcelle studied her.
    “I’ve thought about that.” Rae looked around
at the modest diner. “But I’m not that rebel trying desperately to
make everybody sit up and take notice.”
    “Hey, lots of our old classmates have been
askin’ about you. Now that you’re a recording star up for a Grammy,
they wanna be your pal,” Marcelle said.
    “I’m not up for a Grammy. Where in the world
did they... Marcelle! You didn’t?” Rae’s mouth hung open.
    “Well, I might have mentioned something to
Carmela. You should have seen her face.” Marcelle cackled.
    “Shame on you, telling tales in church.”
    “We were on the parking lot. Besides, I said
you might be up for a Grammy.” Marcelle put her hands on her hips.
“Well, you’ve got as much chance as any other musician.”
    Rae could not refute her logic. “You’re
priceless.”
    They both laughed until the tears flowed.
After several minutes they sat still, feeling weak, drinking their
soda refills.
    “Seriously, Rae, being back home means you’ll
run into Toya and Darcy on a regular basis.”
    “I’ve