Crazy For You by Sandra Edwards

would
realize how ludicrous this whole thing was. When she did, Candy
would be there to help her pick up the pieces—because that’s what
Chuck would want.
    The weeks turned into months and one day Roxanne
found herself with a completed manuscript. She submitted her book
to a few of the smaller publishing houses, figuring she’d have a
better chance with them since she was unpublished, unrepresented,
and unknown.
    At this point, she was also in pretty deep with the
prescription drugs. During the day, she’d eat eight to ten Valiums
and over the course of the night she’d take just as many
Triavil.
    Then one day Frank called. “Baby, I’m coming
home.”
    “Really?” The news excited Roxanne. “When?”
    “Next week.”
    “That’s wonderful. I can’t wait to see you.”
    Filled with anticipation and exhilaration, Roxanne
eagerly prepared for his return. She also planned to tell him the
truth because she didn’t want any secrets between them. She deluded
herself into thinking he’d be grateful when he found out what she’d
done, all for the sake of helping him.
    A couple of days later, Candy was home alone in the
evening watching TV. Just past eleven the doorbell rang. She
glanced at the clock and figured it was Roxanne.
    Candy opened the door, but wasn’t prepared to see
Frank. “You’re not supposed to be here yet.” She tried to block the
door.
    “I got home early. Where’s Roxie?” He glanced past
her.
    “She’s not here,” Candy said, and still didn’t
move.
    “Candy…I live here too.”
    “Oh, yeah.” Realizing that she had to let him in,
she moved aside.
    Roxanne had gotten lazy where her makeup was
concerned. Instead of taking it off at work, many nights she’d wait
until she got home. Maybe it didn’t have so much to do with
laziness as it did the inherent need to get out of that place.
    She inserted the key in the front door’s lock while
humming a tune. She opened the door, feeling no pain. When she saw
Frank standing in front of her she stopped singing abruptly and
froze.
    Frank pulled her to him. He was about to kiss her
when he noticed all the makeup. Too much makeup for a normal girl
to wear.
    “Got a little carried away with the makeup, didn’t
you, Roxie?” he said, studying her face.
    “I…ah…I had it done at the mall. Guess they didn’t
do such a great job, huh?”
    Great job ? She looked like a hooker. But
Frank was satisfied with her story and let it go.
    Hours later, just past three in the morning, Frank
slept soundly while Roxanne lay in his arms, wide-awake. She didn’t
want to hide the truth from him any longer, and she didn’t want to
wait until the morning to tell him either. Besides, he’d be
thankful that she loved him enough to help him.
    “Frankie...” She shook him, eager to earn his
praise.
    Nothing.
    “Frankie.” She shook him harder. “Come on,
Frankie…wake up.”
    “What?” He moaned.
    “Wake up. There’s something I have to tell you.”
    “Can’t it wait until morning?”
    “No it can’t. Wake up.”
    “Okay. Okay.” He grumbled and sat up.
    “I’ve been helping you,” she said, fully expecting
him to be grateful.
    “What?” Frank looked at her.
    “Financially,” she said. “I’ve been helping Glenna
support the band.”
    “I thought your money was all gone.” It was more of
a statement than a question.
    “It is.” Fear crept up from the back of her mind.
“I’ve been working with Glenna.”
    “What?” Frank hissed. Fire shot from his eyes. He
was wide-awake now.
    His reaction confused Roxanne. He was supposed to be
appreciative, not angry. “Frankie...I did it to help you.”
    “I didn’t ask for your help.” He threw the covers
back and barreled out of bed.
    “But I wanted to help you,” she said. “Just like
Glenna helps Glen.” Why didn’t he get that?
    In the dark, Frank searched for his blue jeans. “If
Glen wants to let his wife be a whore—” He found a pair of pants.
“—that’s on