"...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.

denise

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