Crazy For You (7 page)

He pushed himself into a standing position and
glanced around the room. When his attention settled back on her
once again, he said, “Okay.”

As if there was nothing left to say, he shrugged his
shoulders in mock resignation, then turned and headed for the
door.

The door slammed shut, and she jumped. “Damn
it.”

Roxanne preparing to leave with Frank was Candy’s
cue that it was time to get herself a job. For convenience’s sake
she accepted a waitressing position at a local restaurant that was
close to home. If she was lucky the tips would be good too.

“So...” Roxanne lounged casually against the wall
that opened to the stairs. “When do you start your new job?”

Candy twisted around on the couch and draped her arm
over the back. “I told them I could start next week.”

“Sure you don’t want to go with us?” Roxanne pushed
off the wall and moved to the couch, dropping down beside
Candy.

“It’s not a good idea.” Candy turned back around and
tucked her feet up under her. “It’ll give Rich the wrong
impression.”

“Maybe you’ve got the wrong impression.”

“I’m going to be fine.”

“Listen...” Roxanne snatched her purse off the
coffee table and dug around inside it. “Do me a favor?” she said,
handing Candy a bankbook.

Candy fanned through the wallet-size ledger.
Twenty-five grand. Was she serious? “I don’t want your money,
Roxanne.” She handed back the bankbook.

“Look, I just want you to go out and buy a car.”
Roxanne refused to take the ledger back. “A nice little sports
job,” she said. “One you’d enjoy driving around.”

“I don’t need you to buy me a car.”

“How are you going to get around while I’m
gone?”

“I’ll walk. Or I’ll take a cab. I’ll manage.”

“Your brother would never forgive me.”

Roxanne knew her weak spots. It wouldn’t do Candy
any good to argue with her. Once she made up her mind, she wouldn’t
stop until she got her way.

Candy let out a defeated sigh. “I’m putting the car
in your name.”

“Whatever.” Roxanne shrugged. It didn’t matter to
her, so long as she got her way.

***

Chapter 7

I
t took Roxanne less than
two weeks to get tired of the bar scene. She’d mostly gotten fed up
watching Rich and Glen screw around. Especially Glen. Glenna didn’t
deserve that. She truly loved her husband, and this was the thanks
she got. Glen’s infidelity.

And then there was Rich. How could he claim to love
Candy when he openly amused himself every night with a different
girl?

One morning around six a.m., after she and Frank had
had a magnificent go of it, Roxanne lay comfortably draped over him
and decided to share her feelings about all the debauchery.
“Frankie...?” she called his name softly.

“Uh huh.” Frank was almost asleep.

“Why does Rich fool around so much if he’s
supposedly got it so bad for Candy?”

“Well, she’s the one that doesn’t want any
commitments,” he said, a little more coherently. “And you can’t
expect him to swear off other women when he’s got it bad for a girl
who doesn’t want anything from him but sex.”

Frank had a point. Maybe Roxanne had labeled Rich’s
guilt a little too quickly, but that didn’t mean she had to like
it. All she had to do was ignore it. Just block it out and it would
go away.

“What about Glen?” she asked, her tone still
serene.

“What about Glen?”

“Well, he and Glenna are married.” Her tone took on
a definite edge.

“Look,” Frank said hesitantly, “they have a strange
relationship.” He wasn’t exactly thrilled discussing Glen and
Glenna. “It’s better left alone.”

Roxanne sat up abruptly. “So you condone his
actions?” she questioned him in a judgmental way.

Frank, fully awake now, pushed himself up and leaned
against the headboard. “I didn’t say that.” His outward exterior
remained calm as he tried to conceal his true opinion. “I’m just
saying it’s none of my business. But that doesn’t mean I condone
what they do.” A hint of warning echoed in his voice. “You belong
to me. No one else is to have you.”

“I take it that you practice what you preach?” she
asked amid a soft giggle.

“I always practice what I preach,” he said with a
gentle laugh. His arrogance made an appearance at the prospect of
provoking jealousy in her. “I also understand…if you don’t want to
go to the bar every night, that’s okay too.” Frank thought he had
Roxanne figured out.

He could see her struggling with what she regarded
as betrayal on Glen and Rich’s part. He didn’t necessarily disagree
with her either. He just had very different ideas about who was
being betrayed by whom.

In the end, Frank and Roxanne compromised on the
nightclub issue. She would accompany him to the clubs on the
weekends, but during the week she’d wait for him at the motel.

It took Roxanne about a week to get tired of
watching television while Frank rocked out at the neighborhood bar.
After that, it didn’t take long for an old passion to resurface.
Back in high school, she’d entertained her friends with her short
stories. When she married Chuck the writing stopped. She didn’t
know why. It just stopped.

She hadn’t wanted to write anything in such a long
time. But she wanted to write now. In her mind, she’d concocted two
lovers suitably designed for one another, and placed them smack-dab
in the middle of a perfectly troubled world. Now the story longed
to be told.

The tale of Ben and Cherie, star-crossed lovers with
the odds stacked against them, consumed Roxanne’s waking thoughts.
But she intended to see that love does conquer all. Every night
while Frank ventured out, rocking the clubs, she secretly crafted
her story. She decided to make Ben a rock star from another
country, where upon visiting the United States he met Cherie, who
had no idea who he was. And Ben wouldn’t let on. He wanted Cherie
to like him, not who he was….

Roxanne decided to title the book The Secret. In
keeping with the theme of the story, she decided to keep her own
little secret. Elusive about the whole thing, she opted not to tell
Frank or anyone else about her project.

It didn’t take Roxanne long to realize that she
needed help molding Ben’s character. And who better than Frank to
help her figure that out? But she didn’t want anybody knowing her
true motives—especially Frank. She had to be careful, not to
mention tricky, in the way she handled her fact-finding
mission.

The first time she brought it up, they were in the
middle of lunch at the diner adjacent to the motel.

“Frankie…if I give you a hypothetical situation,”
she said. “Would you tell me what you’d do in that case?”

“Sure.”

“Let’s suppose you’re a famous singer.” She set the
scene while she sipped her orange juice.

“I like it so far.”

“You’re from another country, and you’ve come to
conquer the States.”

Frank didn’t give the strange scenario much thought
as he sipped his drink.

“Anyway...” Roxanne shrugged and went on, “you meet
this girl. One you really like. But you want her to like you…not
who you are.” She paused long enough for him to consider it. “Would
you tell her right away? Or would you wait?”

“Well…” He let the odd scenario percolate in his
mind. “If I really wanted her to like me, rather than who I was...”
Frank had a hard time placing himself in this scene. He already had
the girl, and he was far from famous, so he didn’t have to worry
about why she liked him. “Well, I guess I’d probably hold off
telling her for a while,” he said, finally making a choice.

She didn’t question him further, and Frank didn’t
give her strange inquiries much more than a passing thought.

Six weeks into the tour, the band arrived in
Titusville, Florida. They’d had Wednesday and Thursday nights as a
primer for the weekend. Frank liked arriving at the next gig during
the middle of the week. It gave him a chance to get a feel for the
place, insuring that over the weekend he’d give those people a show
they’d never forget. Even if he did sing somebody else’s songs.

Friday afternoon, while Frank and Rich were out on a
pizza run, Roxanne took the occasion to look over her story. She
was so enthralled in working out the details that the unexpected
knock at the door startled her. She shoved the loose papers
erratically into the dresser drawer and closed it with a swift
push. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she hurried toward the
door.

“That was quick.” She opened the door, expecting to
see Frank and Rich. Instead, she found herself staring into the
faces of Candy and Glenna.

“Quick?” Candy said skeptically. “Took us damn near
three hours to get here.”

“Hi Roxie.” Glenna peered over Candy’s shoulder and
smiled.

Roxanne took a moment to let their unexpected
arrival sink in. “Come on in,” she said, finally gathering her
wits.

“Well if you don’t mind...” Glenna backed away a
couple of steps. “I’m going to go find my man.”

“Where’s Frank?” Candy wondered vaguely as Glenna
strolled away.

“He and Rich went to get pizza.” Roxanne motioned
Candy inside.

“So...” Candy perched herself on the edge of the bed
nearest the door. “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” Roxanne said, closing the door. She moved
toward the dresser and stood in front of it, as if protecting her
writing from discovery.

“Are you happy?” Candy asked.

“Very.”

Roxanne gave all the right answers, but Candy knew
something was wrong.
What are you hiding
? She wondered
suspiciously of Roxanne. The door opened. Candy’s thoughts of
interrogating her sister fell by the wayside.

Frank, and then Rich entered the room. Each carrying
a pizza.

“Hey, Candy.” Frank greeted her with a
half-smile.

“What’s happening, Frank?” Candy stood.

Rich set the pizza down on the table near the door
and crossed the room to Candy’s side. “It’s nice to see you,” he
said and kissed her tenderly.

“It’s good to see you too,” she agreed.

Taking Candy’s hand, Rich pulled her to the far side
of the room. “I have to talk to you. It’s important,” he
whispered.

“Okay,” she said, making light of his demeanor.

“I’m serious.”

“Okay.” She tried to wriggle her hands free.

“I’m no angel.” He locked his fingers around hers.
“And I’m not going to lie and tell you that I have been. But now
that you’re here, you’ll have my undivided attention.”

For a second, Candy got caught up in his deep brown
eyes. She wrapped her arms around him and couldn’t resist letting
her lips meet his. “It’s okay,” she said. His kiss was hard and
searching.

Walking toward Roxanne, Frank pointed at Rich and
Candy and laughed impishly. He cuddled her face in his hands,
kissed her lightly and whispered against her ear. “Aren’t they
silly?”

Roxanne giggled.

That evening, Roxanne sat back and watched Rich and
Glen give all the local groupies the cold shoulder. The hometown
girls seethed as the two band members, who’d been oh-so-friendly
yesterday, entered the club tonight sporting these unknown women on
their arms. None of the slighted fans tried to hide their
anger.

Roxanne couldn’t understand how Candy and Glenna,
especially Glenna, could stand to witness this exposition as it
played out between the guys in the band and the local girls. The
whole thing proved unsettling for Roxanne. “Let’s go out and burn
one.” Her suggestion came abruptly.

“Okay.” Candy popped up from her chair and grabbed
her purse.

The girls headed outside, and made themselves
comfortable in the back of Roxanne’s van.

Glenna initiated the ritual by pulling a joint out
and firing it up. “Did you see all those girls giving me the evil
eye when I walked in on Glen’s arm?” she asked with an amusing
laugh and passed the joint to Roxanne. Glenna didn’t seem to care,
one way or another, about what she obviously knew.

“No shit.” Candy let out a sharp laugh. “I caught a
few of those myself.”

Roxanne choked on the smoke, coughing. “I can’t
believe you two think that’s funny.” She handed the joint to
Candy.

“Roxie…” Glenna said in a discerning tone, “I’m not
blind to the facts of what goes on when I’m not around. But I also
know…” She gave Roxanne one of those looks that said she wasn’t
worried, and in a controlled voice said, “when push comes to
shove…” She shrugged with a measure of confidence. “I come
first.”

“And it doesn’t bother you?” Roxanne asked
doubtfully.

Candy passed the joint to Glenna, saying nothing,
just following the conversation with an entertaining grin edging up
the corners of her mouth.

“Not as long as Glen doesn’t flaunt it in my face,”
Glenna said. “You must understand.” She stopped long enough to take
a hit off the joint. “The groupies, they got one thing on their
minds.” She stopped again, holding her breath this time. An act
that allowed her to float away on the drug. “They want to screw a
musician. Any musician.” Slowly, Glenna blew the smoke out in a
long, lingering trail. “They put it right there in their faces. And
believe me, a stiff dick has no conscience.” There was no doubt in
her tone, no fear in her words. She handed the joint to Roxanne.
“And I’m not going to let some two-bit slut destroy my marriage,”
she added, in an almost vindictive tone.

Roxanne toked on the joint and a disturbing thought
crossed her mind. Glenna not only knew about it—she accepted her
husband’s infidelity. Anxiety colored Roxanne’s thoughts with
visions of what Frank might be doing out on the road if she wasn’t
there. She tried to expel the ugly thoughts invading her head,
right along with the smoke as she exhaled and handed the joint to
Candy.

“You got a clip?” Roxanne said to Candy.