Myrna Sings the Blues 

24 hours left of Myrna’s visit. Cutlass and Bobo had sent a dinner invitation to their villa on the beach. We were afraid to inflict Myrna on them but we needed the rescue.

When the car came to pick us up, Myrna twirled out of her room. “Lucky I brought my Vera Wang,” she said. Our eyes traveled to the top of her head where a tiara was secured on the French twist. “It’s the Von Nettel tiara,”

Max rolled his eyes. “You know as well as I do, the closest Otto gets to royalty is when he eats at Burger King.”

“It’s not nice to be jealous, Maxie,” Myrna said, chucking him under the chin.

Eyes burning, Max gestured toward the car, “The coach awaits, Your Ladyship.”

We rode to the beach in a thick haze of Myrna’s perfume and chatter about the tiara. At the Casa Azul, Myrna stepped from the car as if the red carpet was rolled out. Cutlass and Bobo rushed to meet her.

“Darling, too, too divine!” Cutlass said, grabbing Myrna’s hands.

Eying the tiara, Bobo said, bowing, “Your majesty!”

Under his breath, Max said to me, “She’s been promoted.”


Cutlass, Bobo and Myrna bonded immediately. Max and I were footnotes. They showed her Rosa’s portrait and pin. Myrna threw up her arms and said, “I know the story about the fabulous pin given to her by “Him!” Rosa’s mysterious lover. Deliciously romantic!” Bobo winked at us.

Cutlass announced that he was going to make their famous Blue Margaritas. “You must try one, Myrna, dear. I make them with the best tequila.”

“I’ve never had tequila,” Myrna said, touching a fingertip to her lips.  “One should be adventurous in life though, shouldn’t one?”

“Now’s my chance,” Max said, nudging me. He got up and said, “You three get to know each another. I’ll make the Margaritas.” He left for the kitchen singing, “If the river were whiskey and I were a duck, I’d swim to the bottom and never come up!”

I was leery of the gleam in Max’s eyes.

He came back with the drinks and handed one to Myrna. “Special, just for you.” Myrna took a tiny sip. “Yummy! Is there more?”

“Lots!” Max said.

After her third Blue Margarita, Myrna, tiara off to the side, wove her way to the player piano, leaned her back against it, splaying her arms out, slurring, “I’ve always wanted to sing. Refill, Maxie!”

Cutlass hurried to put on a CD of blues music. Myrna sang, “Blue moon, you saw me standing alone.”

Max whispered to me, “She won’t be standing long if I can help it.”

Myrna kept singing and sipping, Cutlass and Bobo applauding all the way, until it was time for dinner. Myrna, being diet conscious, ate very little of the shrimp diavolo pasta but kept Max’s special refills coming.

Finally, it was time to leave and we steered Myrna, still humming, back to the car. She leaned out the window waving the tiara, her French twist untwisted, and blew kisses shouting, “I love you! I love everyone!”

“Sister dear has left the building. Jolly good!”

12 hours left.

Xoxo  Sylvia