"...the light is behind me..."
"We were drunk in Mexico," she confided to me. I was pretty
sure the story was not going to be pretty. "We had $17 and a
suitcase between us. You know how Roy is." She rolled her eyes
at me as if I knew who Roy was and would understand instantly
what she meant. Of course I didn't have a clue.
Joy was always saying things like that, expecting me to understand
the subtext of whatever she was talking about. I've tried pointing
out to her that I failed Subtext 101 in school, but she refused to
believe me. Sometimes I think she thought she was talking to
someone else, one of her hip, sophisticated friends from up North
instead of to me, plain Jane from Anderson, Alabama. No matter how
many times I told her, she refused to believe that I didn't understand
what she was talking about, so I stopped trying years ago.
Joy lighted another cigarette and waved the smoke and her bangs out of
her eyes. I did not envy her Roy, but I have always coveted her hair.
Smooth, glossy, thick, and the color of ripe chestnuts, I have wanted her
hair since we met. "Rich-girl hair" is what i call it.
"So, there we were, drunk in Mexico and without enough money to get home.
I told Roy before we left that we should put aside $200 in case something
like this happened but he said no, it would be an adventure. It was an
adventure, all right. One i'm never going to forget or repeat if I can help it."
i don't know what that is up there. Joy and Jane (avoid alliteration, denise.)
are going to have to carry on their discussion without me for right now.
i want some toast.
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