Sweet Mystery (20 page)

Simon cuddled her close. “I never realized
how tough it was for you.”

“Lucien was in a lot of pain, I realize that
now. But at the time all I knew was that nobody seemed to
understand. So when Mama, Daddy and my teachers tried to give me
rules, I broke ‘em.” Rae remembered herself fighting for a place in
the world, trying to make sense of who she should be. “This sounds
so cliché, but I was trying to find myself.”

Simon did not answer, except to rock her
gently in his embrace. Rae wondered at how instinctive it had been
to tell him what she’d shared with no one else before. She had
poured it into her music. Yet she’d never admitted that the slights
and snubs she suffered during childhood had stayed with her. The
biggest wonder of all was that far from feeling exposed, she felt
comforted.

“Thanks, baby,” Simon whispered. “Thanks for
sharing a special part of you with me.”

Rae looked into his dark brown eyes. He
understood. She could see it in his face. A yearning for him flared
up like a wild fire in her body. They kissed long and deep, trying
to satisfy a hunger, but only making it grow.

“I want you so much,” Simon murmured, his
lips against hers.

“Yes,” was all she answered.

Without another word, Rae led him into her
bedroom. She’d had it redone with the furniture from her apartment.
Only the soft light from an antique lamp played across the soft
cream, blue and lavender colors in the room. The curtains and
bedspread had an abstract floral pattern.

Simon kissed Rae again once they reached the
bed. “It’s lovely, Rae. I didn’t expect…”

“You thought I’d have music posters on the
walls and a bare mattress,” she whispered while taking off his
shirt. “I like to surround myself with beauty. Like right now.”

With one quick motion, she removed her
blouse. Simon brushed her fingers away, insisting that he complete
the process. He slowly removed her bra. Throwing it aside, he
buried his face in the soft flesh with a small moan of
satisfaction. His hands tugged at her panties. Soon both of them
were naked and breathless, savoring the sensation of pressing their
bodies together while kissing.

Rae pulled Simon down onto the bed with her.
She was instantly lost in a world of delight as they explored each
other with their hands and lips. Both reveled in raising the
anticipation to fever pitch. Rae could not stand to be separate
from him any longer. After a time, the caresses were not enough.
She needed to be part of him.

“Now, Simon. Now.”

Rae watched him put on the condom and then
touched it with the tips of her fingers. Simon gazed into her eyes
as he slowly entered her. Their hips pressed together for a brief,
sweet moment before they started to move in long strokes. All the
desires to love and be love exploded within her. Sex with him was a
magnificent combination of physical and emotional ecstasy.

Simon alternated between taking his time and
moving fast. His tongue brushed Rae’s face, neck and breasts. She
cried out, over and over, until Simon joined her in a frantic need
to calm the raging lust that was welling up. The short, tiny stabs
of joy became a blinding light flooding her mind. The orgasm that
shook her brought Simon over the edge. He clutched her hips while
thrusting hard again and again until both lay shuddering, clinging
to one another.

“I love you so much,” Simon said in a hoarse
whisper. He was still inside her, still holding her. “I love
you.”

“I love you, too,” Rae whispered back.

They lay together, arms around each other,
talking for hours. The night sounds of crickets and frogs lulled
them to sleep sometime in the early hours of the next day.

* * *

“This is crazy!” Papa Joe stared at his
grandson as though he’d just announced he was going to the moon.
“You’ve lost your mind.”

“We love each other.” Simon was sat in his
grandfather’s living room. He hated sounding like a little boy
caught stealing from the cookie jar.

Papa Joe turned to his wife for help.
“Olivia, will you say something to this boy?” “Cher, are you
certain about how you feel? I know she’s attractive and exciting
now. But...” Olivia let her voice trail off. One dark eyebrow came
up and her head inclined to one side. Her silver hair, swept up in
a soft French twist, gave her a regal look.

Simon felt frustrated. “Grandmother, I’m no
ten-year-old with a crush. Don’t tell me you’re willing to judge
Rae based on hearsay? You taught me better than that.”

“Don’t get smart with us, young man – telling
me what I taught you,” Papa Joe muttered.

“Joe, calm down. You were nice to Lucien more
than once. Not that he appreciated it, but still you were.” Olivia
turned to Simon. “Of course, we’re not passing judgment.”

“Humph.” Papa Joe’s expression told a
different story.

“Hush, Joe.” Olivia gave him a warning
glance. “But let’s be realistic. What have you got in common?
You’re from very different backgrounds.”

“Papa Joe went into business with Mr.
Vincent. The Dalcours were good enough back then,” Simon put
in.

“Yeah, and look how that turned out,” Papa
Joe retorted.

“Joe,” Olivia said in a sharp voice.

“If he did take the money, it has nothing to
do with Rae.” Simon wore a look of justification at his own
argument.

Papa Joe shook his head. “She’s pulled some
crazy stunts herself. I tell you–”

Simon folded his arms. “I can’t believe my
own grandparents are snobs. That sure isn’t what you taught
me.”

“We’re talking about facts here, Simon. Hard
facts!” Papa Joe shot back. “Fact, Vincent disappeared with ten
thousand dollars and another man’s wife.”

“Never proven.” Simon waved a hand as though
brushing his words aside. “And, again, Rae can’t be held
responsible for what he might have done twenty years before she was
born.”

Papa Joe huffed in silence for a few minutes.
“Well she was a rowdy teenager. No telling what kind of life she’s
been leading since, roaming all over creation with a group of
musicians. Male blues musicians at that.”

Simon scowled at him. “So what?”

“Everybody knows how those people live –
drugs, staying up all night... Smokin’ Dan was a pal of mine back
in my days.”

“Joe, you can’t compare Smokin’ Dan to Rae.
Besides, don’t forget some of the things you did right along with
him.” Olivia patted his shoulder. “Now be quiet.”

“I’m telling you, Olivia–”

“Hush, dear. I’m talking.” Olivia was one of
two people who could say such things to Joe St. Cyr. His mother had
been the other. “So you’re that serious about Rae Dalcour?”

“She’s a wonderful, kind person. Yes, I’m
that serious about her.” Simon squinted at Papa Joe. “And she’s not
the female version of Smokin’ Dan.”

Papa Joe leaned forward. “I don’t want you
getting mixed up in anything that might hurt you, son.”

“I appreciate your concern, but–”

Papa Joe held up a palm. “I know, I know.
Stay out of your business.”

Olivia looked at her grandson. “I hear Rae is
looking into her grandfather’s disappearance. She could find out
some unpleasant truths about Vincent after all.”

“We’ll deal with that when and if it
happens,” Simon said. “Actually, I have this strange feeling that
maybe there could be another explanation.”

“What? She’s really got you brainwashed!”
Papa Joe threw up both hands.

Simon did not want to reveal that Rae was
having her own doubts about Vincent’s innocence. He could not
explain why he’d begun to think that the popular explanation for
those long-ago events did not add up. But, as he’d talked to Rae
about the contents of the letters and papers, there were gaps that
puzzled him.

“Papa Joe, could you tell me everything you
remember about back then? You know, how y’all got into business
together. Stuff like that. Right up until Mr. Vincent and Miss
Estelle left.”

Papa Joe crossed his arms. “First you say the
past doesn’t matter and now you want story hour! Uh-uh, I know what
you’re up to, Simon Joseph.”

“Haven’t you always been curious about how
Vincent and Estelle pulled it off? You told me once that Vincent
was fun-loving, but you never thought he’d do something like
steal.” Simon prodded at his grandfather’s love for solving
puzzles.

“Yeah, well, that Estelle was one
good-looking gal.” Papa Joe cleared his throat and squirmed at the
look Olivia gave him. “Not near as pretty as my Livvy,
naturally.”

“Humph!” was Olivia’s eloquent reply.

“There now, sweetness.” Papa Joe winked at
her. “Anyways, losing his head over a woman can make a man do
strange things. You oughta know.” He shot a meaningful glance at
his grandson.

“Just tell me the story.”

“No.” Papa Joe looked stubborn.

“Come on, please.” Simon tapped his knee. “A
wonderful woman can also make life sweet. That’s something you
always told me about being married to Grandmother.”

“Well I...” Papa Joe wavered.

Olivia seemed mollified by Simon’s testimony
on Papa Joe’s behalf. Her look of annoyance melted away. “Go on,
honey. Besides, you always loved telling Simon about the old
days.”

“You’d want to help Grandmother if she were
in Rae’s position. Please?” Simon placed his ace: Papa Joe’s
weakness for Olivia was legendary.

He was hooked. “Well, all right.”

For the next hour, Papa Joe told Simon how
he, Henry Jove and Vincent had grown up together. Despite the
differences in social status, the three boys became fast friends
from an early age. Add to that, the Great Depression had left even
the old Creole families in financial dire straits. The old class
boundaries relaxed as a result.

“We were part of the modern times,” Olivia
put in. “We made fun of our parents’ haughty attitudes.” She smiled
in fond memory of her youth.

“Anyway, we were going to go in on a canning
outfit. Our plan to get rich.” Papa Joe chuckled. “Wasn’t a bad
idea either. Old Mr. Isidore, Henry’s daddy, had a nice farm. We
were going to can tomatoes, okra and such. Later we planned to
expand to seafood. But our parents said we had to come up with the
money ourselves. They didn’t believe in handing you everything on a
silver platter.”

“Mr. Isidore and your father would have given
you the help, and you know it,” Olivia added.

“After we proved we were serious, yeah. We
worked like crazy all through high school, summers and after school
even. Time passed and all three of us got married. Henry travelled
back and forth to Southern in Baton Rouge. I went to trade school
and got an associate degree. Vincent, he stayed right here. He’d go
live with friends in New Orleans sometimes, making good money as a
stevedore. Yep, those were the days. After four years we had seven
thousand dollars saved between us.”

“But ten thousand was stolen,” Simon
said.

“When folks saw how hardworking we were,
several folks kicked in small amounts to invest,” Papa Joe
replied.

“Not so small back then. Even fifty dollars
took a long time for folks to save. You know what wages for black
people were like in those days.” Olivia looked at her husband.

“You’re right. But they knew we’d have good
jobs for our people. Folks were looking forward to the progress a
successful, black-owned business would bring to our community. Our
parents made up the difference until we had ten thousand dollars.”
Papa Joe fell silent.

“So that’s why most of the black population
was so mad. I thought it was just in sympathy because the Joves and
St. Cyrs were highly regarded.” Simon now understood why the anger
had continued for years, and from more than just the investors. The
entire community felt wronged.

“It was a terrible blow. White businessmen
laughed at how us ‘coloreds’ couldn’t trust our own.” Olivia heaved
a sigh.

“It was twenty more years until Henry opened
his food-distribution operation. Losing Estelle seemed to suck the
wind right outta his sales, poor fella.” Papa Joe shook his
head.

“What was Vincent like?” Simon wanted a clear
picture of the man whose supposed actions had so affected them
all.

“Like I said, he was always laughing. Always
had a funny tale to tell, half the time stretching the truth.” Papa
Joe smiled. “He could sing, too. Guess music is in their blood,
eh?”

“And he was a handsome man.” Olivia put in
with a twinkle in her eye. “Tall with dark brown skin and big
muscles.”

“That’s enough of that now, Liv.” Papa Joe
wore a tight expression.

“What’s good for the goose, Joseph,” she
quipped.

“Okay, you got me back.” Papa Joe chuckled.
“Anyway, he was hardworking and loved his family. But he did have a
thing for Estelle. Guess that feeling won out when it came down to
it.”

“Strange they just vanished without a trace.”
Simon rubbed his jaw. “You’d think somebody would have seen
them.”

“Well, they found the car. Another thing,
seems like they said something about buying passage on a ship out
of New Orleans. Yeah, the sheriff told us they checked the port –
had their names on the log of some freighter.”

“Then why didn’t they find them?” asked
Simon.

“It was about eight months later. The police
were checking for some guy off a ship that had stabbed somebody in
the French Quarter. They were checking to see if he’d gone back to
Colombia. When they saw the names on the log, they remembered them
from a wire the sheriff had sent earlier.”

Simon felt a flicker of excitement. “So they
know where they went?”

“The ship went to several countries. They
didn’t find them. The captain claimed he couldn’t remember where
they landed or find his record book. They probably bribed him,”
Papa Joe grunted.