Page 3 of This is Where I Leave You

Richard thought of Cady. He felt a sudden, sharp pain of something; guilt, loss? Whatever it was, it made his guts ache and his head spin. Is that possible when you’re dead? Are you not supposed to be a floating, glowing entity, weightless, naked, at one with the universe? Richard scratched his head and adjusting his tie, got to his feet.

“Hello? Is there anybody there?”

CHAPTER 6

Cady shuffled uncomfortably in her chair. She could feel the multiple mother-of-pearl handled daggers in her back from Cynthia, Richard’s auntie and Priscilla. She’d scuttled into the office for the will reading and stuck herself at the back. Richard senior, known as Dick, looked up from his large walnut desk and peered down his reading glasses. He smiled and said, “Cady, honey, come and sit at the front, next to me.” Cady felt extremely grateful to him at that moment. He didn’t hate her for the funeral debacle! Ignoring the collective tuts and harrumphs from Cynthia and Priscilla, she took her seat and smiled at Dick.

In the room was the four of them, Richard Senior’s secretary, a rather dull looking woman dressed entirely in brown suede with angry looking tortoiseshell spectacles, and Marcus, Richard Junior’s friend; golf buddy and law associate at the firm. Not many people who meant anything to Richard, Cady noted sadly. Still, at least his parade of strumpets was not here. Yet. She ignored the bucket of ice that careered down her spine and clasped her hands tightly on her lap.

Richard Senior finished reading the papers in front of him and coughed. He shuffled the thick white sheaf of papers and looked at everyone.

“I know that Richard loved you all very dearly and that we have no need for formalities here. Basically, the Will bequeaths something to you all. Cynthia, his art works from office and home are left to you, as he states, his love of the finer things stemmed from you dragging him to the galleries as a child.” Cynthia smiled weakly at this, dabbed her weepy eyes with her hanky and reached for Priscilla’s hand.

“Priscilla dear, our son left you his baby items, which he states are in a tea chest at his house, and grandfather’s gold watch. He said as he had no children, it should return to the family.” At the mention of children, Priscilla crumpled like a soggy paper bag and wept on Cynthia’s shoulder. Cady did not know what to do. She knew she should comfort her, but she still felt awkward and ashamed at her unusual behaviour at the funeral, and strangely felt guilty that she had never born a grandchild.

She cleared her throat and spoke. “I am so sorry, Priscilla, I know how much you wanted a grandchild. I am so sorry.”

Cady put her head down and wiped at the trickle at her cheek. She too felt robbed at the chance of having a child. 29, no husband, no child, no chance. She felt the familiar anger bubbling up inside her.

Priscilla said nothing, she just kept sobbing with Cynthia shushing her and rubbing her back as one would a toddler.

“Marcus lad, Richard leaves you his golf clubs, and his entire CD collection. He says, and I quote, ‘So you can finally improve your handicap and get some decent musical education’.”

Marcus grinned and muttered, “Cheeky bugger. I always thrashed him at golf!”

Richard senior smiled, remembering his late son’s humour.

“He left me his collection of law books, diplomas and certificates from his law career, to display in my office as a memento. I love that idea. Karen, we shall see to his office this week and get onto that.” His secretary Karen nodded reverently and jotted something down on a small notepad.

“Cady, my dear, the rest of his possessions, the house, the car, are all left to you. Richard also had a substantial pension which will divert to you, and some money he had saved. Also some stocks and shares, which I shall be happy to go through with you at a later date, when you are ready dear. And obviously there is a life insurance policy which will pay out to yourself, all debts and the mortgage will be discharged, and the remainder will be reverted to you.”

Richard senior and everyone else in the room stared at Cady, nervously awaiting her response. Cady stared at Richard senior, not quite taking it in.

“But Richard, I assumed that the house would come to me as we are joint owners and he was insured, but, the rest…?”

Richard looked at her gently, suddenly understanding. “You may have had your ups and downs with Richard, but you were his wife, he loved you, he left a letter in the Will detailing everything with a message for you, it’s sealed, but shall I read it out n-?”

“No, n-no, please don’t.” Cady rushed out the words. “It’s a bit too much to take in at the moment,” she added.

“We understand, Cady, and as for your job here, you can have as much time off as you need, paid of course, we have arranged for a long term temp if you need her, so you just call me when you are ready, okay?”

Cady felt a great rush of affection for her father in law. “Thank you Richard, I…I must be going now, I have a lot to be getting on with.”

Richard nodded and handed her a large cream envelope. On the envelope in elegant, swirly letters was her name, in her husband’s handwriting. “Everything you need is in there, my dear.”

Cady gingerly took the envelope and placed it into her bag.

“Thank you,” she muttered heading for the door with her head down. Marcus smiled at her, and opened the door to help her make a quick exit.

Cady walked briskly to the lobby, feeling tired, and strangely nauseous. She raced to the main door, her heels clicking clacking on the polished floor. She could feel people watching her, colleagues, friends, staring at the young widow who lost it at the funeral. She could feel the sweat dripping down her neck; her whole body felt ice cold whilst her cheeks were aflame. She felt so ill. Her ears were ringing and her skin was tingling - what the hell was wrong with her?

She heard her mother-in-law calling her name behind her. Ignoring it, she raced to the doors, burst through into the daylight and lent on the stone pillar outside, enjoying the harsh cold feeling of the brick on her roasting cheek.

“Cady, dear, are you ok, I was just wondering if…”

Cady spun to face Priscilla and her stomach lurched; she vomited down Priscilla’s pristine dress, splashing chunks of day-glo orange sick onto her shiny M & S shoes.

Priscilla screamed in surprise, and then throwing her bag to one side to escape the cascade, she stopped and moved closer. Making Cady jump in surprise, he stroked her hands down Cady’s back, ssshhing her like her sister had just done to her. “It’s ok Cady, let it out, let it all out.”

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