Page 12 of This is Where I Leave You

Cady stopped dishing the food out and looked at her mate. “I have actually; I had lunch at the Gallery with a friend.”

“Oh, well, are you ok?” George replied, concerned now. Then she remembered. “Oh shit, the clinic! You are not drinking; he gave you something didn’t he? What a total skank!”

Cady shook her head vigorously and spoke through a mouthful of chicken dansak. “No, no, he didn’t, well not Chlamydia anyway, I got that result back, the rest I have to visit my GP for.”

George was confused. She went for regular sexual health checks and she knew that they normally did everything there and then, and even sent a text message with the results when they were available. Not wanting to let her friend know she had such in-depth knowledge, she nodded.

“Everything ok then?” she pushed.

Cady sat down at the island, pushing George’s food over to her. Crossing her jean clad legs, she rubbed her bare foot against the other, a hint of a smile playing on her face. “I’m ok, and I’m pregnant.”

George almost choked on her lamb pasanda. “You’re what! How far gone?”

Cady giggled. “4 months! Can you believe it? I know it’s 4 months, because that’s the only time Richard and I had sex in the last year, so it was kinda easier to do the maths. I looked online and found a due date prediction calendar and I am due near my birthday, the 15th. How weird is that?”

George sat open mouthed, then went to the fridge, uncorked a bottle and took a deep swig, gripping the neck like a wino on a street corner, clutching a bottle of 20/20. Gasping as the alcohol hit her throat and warmed her body, she took a wine glass from the cupboard about Cady and sat back down opposite her. Cady observed her refill her glass and waited for her news to sink in.

It had come as a shock to her too, but now she was kind of excited. She had been talking to Luke and remembering that his firm did extensions, had decided to give the house a makeover, make it her own and she would need a nursery and a play room at the very least. She had no idea what her finances were, she had not even looked at the letter that burned a hole in the spare room carpet under her bed. She just could not face it yet. Tomorrow she would book an appointment with Richard Senior, he would help her, and Luke was scheduled to come round on Friday evening, after he had finished work, he was currently doing a project, but wanted to make a start on her plans. Her tummy flipped at the thought of Luke in her house. She ignored it and turned to George, who was now clutching her wine glass staring back at her.

“Oh Cady, what are you going to do? Do you want me to come with you?”

Cady was grateful for her friend jumping on board.

“Well, I am going to ring the surgery tomorrow and book an appointment with the doctor, and the midwife, I suppose. I imagine that they will need to check the baby, being 4 months already.”

George choked on her wine, banging her teeth against the glass. Spluttering wildly, she whispered “You’re keeping it? Why?”

Cady reeled back, feeling as though she had just had her cheek slapped.

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I?”

George pushed away from her stool, wine sloshing onto the tiles as she gesticulated wildly. “Why! Why! Oh I don’t know Cady, sanity, independence? How the hell are you going to cope with a baby, you have just buried your husband and you refuse to deal with that, so how the hell will you process being a mother in 6 months?”

Cady stood up too, anger flashing in her eyes. “5 months, genius, I’m not a friggin’ elephant, and how dare you! It’s a baby, my baby, what do you want me to do? Suck it out and go back to work, join match.com? Jesus H Christ, why does everyone have

an opinion about me and my life? MY husband died, now I am pregnant, MY baby, and I am going to damn well have it! Capesh?”

George stood stock still, wine glass bent, its contents dribbling onto the floor. The drip drip drip of the Zinfandel was the only sound in the room as the two friends glared at each other.

“If you do this Cady, I can’t help you, I just can’t.”

Cady’s stomach lurched at her words. Once. Twice. Placing a hand on her only slightly rounded tum, she locked eyes with her childhood companion. She realised, she wasn’t jumping on board, she was jumping ship. “Fine. Get out,” she spat, “and take your precious vino with you, I am not drinking anymore.”

George slammed the wine glass down onto the marble island top, smashing it off the stem. She threw her shoes on in the hallway and slammed the front door behind her.

Cady stared at the broken wine glass, and walking to the sofa, slumped down onto the overstuffed couch, wincing at the discomfort flashing up her back. This sodding couch would the first thing to go. A whole new start. Still resting her hand on her belly, she felt her belly lurch again. A little flutter. She sat still, and it happened again. Oh my god, she thought, it’s the baby! She cuddled her not quite there yet bump and whispered, I’m here little one. It’s me and you now, and we will be fine, I promise. Now, fancy a bit of curry and Hugh Grant?

***

George stood at her Audi door, keys in hand, staring back at Cady’s house. Should she go back? She had been such a bitch! Cady needed support more than ever now, it was just the thought of Cady being saddled alone with a baby, hardly the thing of an

independent woman, it was bad enough she married Richard in the first place and turned from a clever full of life girl to a frumpy Stepford wife. What was she going to do now, stop shaving and start wearing head to foot Cath Kidston? Or even worse, talking about the little terror all the time and breastfeeding on the tube wearing a kaftan. Oh Lord, George shuddered, no man will catch her out like that, no chance, rely on no-one and no-one can impose on you. Independence is the only way. She climbed into her Audi and pulled away. She better pack and get some beauty sleep for Paris. Another man waiting for her to work her magic, that was the way she liked it. Being alone was the only way to be. She pulled away from the house and sped off home, Alanis Morrisette banging out of the stereo all the way.

CHAPTER 15

Richard crumpled to the floor, the air crushed out of his lungs by the force of the shock. Or was it, he thought, was he even breathing anymore? At this moment in time, watching his wife talk to her unborn child, their unborn child, he was glad he was dead, because the pain in his chest was killing him now anyway. Tears escaped his eyes, dripping slowly down his cheeks. Turning to Gerty, his pathetic prone figure, a weepy man in a crumpled suit, made Gerty go to him. Moving her large body surprisingly fluidly, (well, she was an angel) she lowered herself to the floor and held Richard as he cried like a child. He cried for it all, himself, Cady, his parents, and now his child, the child he had never wanted and now, would never see. He cried for all that he would miss out on, and all he could have been. Struggling to control his own grief, he buried his head into Gerty’s shoulders, and his body racked with the sobs of despair and loss.

Gerty never said a word, she just held him tight, silently letting her own tears fall. He was a good man, she knew that, and his life was such a waste. Her bosses had obviously chosen not to tell her about the child, and she understood why. Richard’s last job was not to do right by the child, he could never do that being dead, it was for them to forgive him, heal the hurt, and help him to cross over. Now it was up to the two of them to form a plan and figure out how to do it. For now though, he needed to keep his anger, they would need his energy. Sensing Richard was spent, she pulled herself away and wiping his tears, she smiled at him kindly.

---