Sweet Mystery Read Online Free Page B

attempts to push reality into the room.
    “Yeah, Robert Cheval’s band would come in on
Saturday afternoons. Some of the best blues in south Louisiana was
right here.” Rae looked at the rickety tables with fondness. She
still played songs that were old when she was a child.
    “I can’t believe y’all.” Neville threw up
both hands. “This place kept Daddy away from home. Mama struggled
by herself with bills and three children. I would just as soon see
this place bulldozed.”
    “What’s wrong with making it work, Neville?”
Rae walked up to him and touched his arm. “The Dalcour family
deserves some kind of legacy.”
    “Not this, Raenette. This is not the legacy I
want my children to have. And you shouldn’t want any business where
liquor is served after what it did to Daddy.” Neville spoke with
bitterness.
    Rae did not have an answer; that was one
aspect of having the dance hall that bothered her. She had used
music as an escape while Neville had pursued middle-class
respectability with a vengeance to put some distance. Andrew,
alone, seemed to be tracking their father’s path to dependence
without any realization of it. But how could she operate the dance
hall without liquor and hope to make it work? Giving up on Lucien’s
pride and joy seemed a dishonor to his memory.
    Rae shook her head slowly. “I’ve got to do
this. I don’t know how, but I’m going to bring the dance hall
back.”
    “Go on little sister. In between working down
at the crawfish plant, I’ll help. Speaking of which, I got to go.
See y’all later.” Andrew slapped his hands together and walked
outside whistling.
    “Sure. He’s looking forward to another place
where he can sit around drinking all the time. Let it go, Rae.”
    “Most people around here still think of us as
trash. Daddy hated the thought that his grandchildren would think
of the Dalcour name like it was something to run away from,” Rae
said with fierceness.
    “You left a long time ago for that same
reason. So did I.” Neville stuck his hands in his pockets. “I hated
having folks whisper behind my back. Now it’s going to start up
again. I don’t want my children to hear the old stories.”
    Rae sat down hard in one of the old chairs.
“Daddy always swore that Pawpaw Vincent was no thief.”
    “He was just six years old and he never knew
for sure. I don’t care what he said.” Neville took a deep breath.
“Pawpaw disappeared, they never found the money and Estelle Jove
went with him.”
    Rae closed her eyes at his succinct summary
of a generation of misery; the shameful family secret that was
still whispered when Rae and her brothers were children. Vincent
Dalcour, thief and adulterer. Lucien never accepted that as truth
though his mother cursed her missing husband’s name until she died.
The money that would have made Belle Rose a prosperous community
was gone. Instead of gaining investment from the large
machine-parts plant, which would have brought jobs, the company
went elsewhere. So Vincent Dalcour had not only robbed his business
partners; he’d robbed his community, too.
    Neville made valid points. In the face of a
no-nonsense presentation of the facts, her plans seemed a misplaced
attempt to make up for all the hurt Lucien had suffered. Then there
was the deep guilt that she had betrayed Lucien by leaving all
those years ago. The ugly words she’d spoken were still with
her.
    Rae leaned against the old bar. “Daddy wanted
me to change things.”
    “But you can’t, anymore than he could. That’s
why he was so miserable most times. Don’t let it drag you down.”
Neville put an arm around her shoulder and led her out of the dance
hall.
    “Well, after we get the succession in motion,
we can decide.” Rae felt a tension headache coming on with the
effort to sort out her feelings.
    “Daddy didn’t have much. Just this land and
his little house. I say we sell.” Neville looked around.
    “We’ll see,” Rae said.
    “Jarvis says he