Page 4 of This is Where I Leave You

Cady dry retched and stopped when she heard a high pitched keening sound. Oh god, she’d vomited on her mother-in-law and made her cry.

Then she realised that the sound was coming from her and she felt a great release as she sobbed, wailed and cried, her face a mixture of vomit, tears and snot. She finally slowed down and took big teary gasps of breath, her mother-in-law still rubbing her back. The two women stood in shock and silence.

“Cady dear, I do hope that you are ok, Dick and I will always be here for you. I hope you know that. Here dear, a hankie, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Cady stood sniffing and snuffling loudly. She looked at her mother-in-law; the woman was covered in bright orange vomit, had snot stains on her shoulder pad and smelt like a stale champagne factory. Cady took the hankie and wiped her face. By some miracle the vomit had missed her entirely, save for a splashing on her shoes.

Priscilla looked at her with an expression of sorrow, pity and slight disgust. Her nose was wrinkling at the vomit smell and she was obviously trying her best not to acknowledge it. Georgina would have howled if she was here, Cady thought from nowhere. She would have had it on U-Tube before the sick dried. So many conversations the two had had about the dragon lady that was Cady’s mother-in-law, but now, looking at her, she did not feel hatred anymore. She had lost a son after all, had his funeral ruined, and was now staring at a daughter-in-law in tatters. Priscilla would obviously think she was a drink addled lush after the last two meetings. Priscilla’s voice suddenly stabbed through her thought pattern, jolting her to the present.

“Cady, are you listening to me dear, you are not well, you need to see a doctor. Are you ok to get home? I…er, obviously can’t take you,” she said, looking down at her ruined outfit. She pulled a face, pursed her lips and looking back at her daughter-in -law, said, “Darling, is that a Dorito on my Laura Ashley?”

***

Marcus pulled the curtains open and cracked a window in the bay alcove. His eyes brushed over the empty champagne bottles but he gallantly made no comment. Cady took her shoes off and deposited them into the kitchen bin. No way was that smell ever going to leave those heels. Throwing her bag onto the island worktop, some of the contents scattered out of the opening, the envelope landing closest to her. Cady eyed it suspiciously and slumped onto the nearest breakfast stool. Marcus had got to work in the living room, plumping cushions, taking the bottles and other rubbish out to the recycling bins and straightening things out in his wake. Cady watched him through the open alcove. She had always liked Marcus, he was not as pretentious as the others and even mocked his colleagues. He had been a welcome ally through the many dull Law Society dances, dinner parties and office do’s. Being related by marriage to the senior partner and married to the son, Cady’s secretary friends had treated her differently, not including her in gossip and bitching as they once did, she was an unknown quantity now in the firm, not quite one of them, but not quite one of the management either. She was never quite accepted in either camp, and this often meant she was out on her own like a pariah. Marcus had obviously noticed this; not that Richard ever did, and his presence had always made things more bearable. Watching him now, tidying up her messy home, she felt a great sense of appreciation that he was there. He had brought her home, never mentioning the vomit or Priscilla, though his eyebrows had gotten tangled in his hairline at the sight of them both outside.

He walked into the kitchen now, patting her shoulder and flicking on the kettle simultaneously. Opening the dishwasher, he took out two clean mugs and started to make tea. Spoon in hand, he suddenly looked thoughtful. “Still two sugars?”

Cady grinned. “Yep. And plenty of milk.”

Marcus chuckled. “Sweet tooth as always. So…you feeling better?”

Cady’s smile dipped at the memory of Priscilla smothered in puke. “Oh god,” she groaned, dropping her head forward onto the cool island surface. “Did I really just do that?”

“Yep,” Marcus chortled. “Man, I wish I had seen it happen. That would have been pretty amazing….sorry, but it is funny.”

Cady looked up at Marcus, his impish face a mix of sheepish and cheeky. She couldn’t stop a little titter erupting, and then a guffaw. Soon, they were both gasping for air, tears rolling down their cheeks as they laughed hysterically at the vision. Marcus began to laugh like a donkey, slapping the table in hysteria, which sent Cady off into fresh peals of laughter. She laughed till her sides hurt, and then a fresh cascade of tears came, and she was left sobbing again. Marcus stopped laughing and rushed to her side, turning her sideways on the stool to face him and dipping down to her eye level. He threw his arms around her neck and held her close till her crying subsided. Clinging to his shoulders, she released him a little and turned with one hand to reach for a tissue from her bag. Marcus took the tissue from her and stroking her cheeks, he dried her tears. She smiled at him through her tears, grateful that he was there. She was also grateful she had been sucking mints in the car on the way home; her Doritos breath would have probably singed his eyelashes off at these close

quarters. His eyelashes were long, so long, and dark, any woman would kill to own a pair like these.

Marcus stopped tending to her face, and cupping her face in his hands, he tentatively moved in and brushed his lips against hers. Pulling away slightly, he licked at his own, tasting her salty tears, and then he slowly moved in again. She took a deep breath and allowed him to kiss her. Cady felt a rush of warmth through her body, and allowed his tongue to part her lips. He tasted of coffee and spearmint, and the scent of him was intoxicating. They explored each others’ mouths, slowly and then hungrily, until a loud bang stopped them in their tracks.

Rushing to the window flustered, Cady looked for the cause. Her wedding photo had fallen to the floor, knocked off the side table. It must have been the wind from the open windows. Picking up the picture, she turned to Marcus. The guilt and surprise she felt was mirrored on his face. He looked rattled, as white as a sheet, his hair rumpled, damn..he looked sexy…

“Ah, I had better go, I am so sor..”

“Oh please don’t, it’s fine, it was me,” Cady rushed to silence him. “I..I”

“I had better get back to the office,” he said, moving to the door. He turned at the last minute, and forced himself to meet her eye. “You ok?”

Cady was far from it. She was a widow harlot! What had just happened? She knew that if they had not been stopped then she herself would not have. She would have thrown Marcus onto that island and discovered new territory, marking it with a Cady flag and an intrepid explorer’s smile of triumph.

“I’m fine, Marcus, really.”

He looked relieved at this, and maybe a flicker of something else? She could not get a read on his expression. Regret? He smiled at her and closed the door behind him, leaving her to the silence in the room, only punctuated by the sound of his retreating car through the open window. Realising she was still holding the picture; she looked down at the two faces encased forever in that happy moment within the silver frame. It had been such a happy day. I can’t deal with this today, she thought. Opening the side table drawer, she stuffed the photo in face down and slammed it shut, wishing she could stuff her emotions away that easily. Staring at her silent home, she padded upstairs to take a hot shower. And then a cold one for good measure.

CHAPTER 7

Richard jumped to his feet. He moved that frame! He knew it! God, he was so mad! Marcus was supposed to be a mate, what a prick! Richard wished he could take his golf clubs back and insert them into Marcus, one by one. And as for Cady, how could she forget about her husband so easily, so quickly!

“Bastards!” he shouted, pacing up and down the stark white floor. If he hadn’t punched that photo frame….but, wait, he hadn’t! How could he? He could only watch the scenes that were projected on the white wall before him. He had just concentrated on it, so….he wasn’t dead. That’s it, he thought, I am not dead. I must be in a coma or something. They buried some sap in my place, maybe ‘my’ body was unrecognisable. That’s it! I am laid in a coma somewhere, and my family think I am dead…so I just need to wake up!

Genius! How was he going to wake up though? Richard stamped on the spot, so frustrated he felt ready to pop. He grabbed his left arm between his fingers and squeezed, pinching harder and harder at the suited arm. “Wake up, wake up…”Wake up!” he screamed, growling in frustration. “Arrgghhhhh!!! Wake up, damn you, wake up!”

“Honey child, you can’t wake up, you’re dead.”

Richard whirled around at the voice. “Wha….”

In front of him was a large black lady, dressed in a long white dress. The skirt of the dress trailed and swished on the floor beneath her, her black skin a great contrast due to the white brilliance that surrounded them.

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