by Wood, Joss
‘The day I have to ask for permission to visit any of my children, I’ll know that I’ve failed as a mother!’
He finished the last button on Maddie’s shirt and Maddie slapped his hands away. He glanced at her jeans, which still gaped open. ‘Jeans! Quick!’
Maddie flashed him a grin as she lazily did up the buttons. ‘Why are you panicking? Does your mother still think you’re a virgin?’
Cale shoved his hands into his hair. ‘I just don’t want to answer her million questions. Or my gran’s. She’s even worse. No concept of boundaries or privacy, either of them.’
‘That bad, huh?’
‘Cale?’
Cale winced as his mother’s demanding voice filled the hall. ‘You have no idea.’ He looked at Maddie again, decided she was suitably clothed, and walked over to the door to the hall and yanked it open. ‘Mom, we’re in here.’
‘We? Who is we?’
Maddie tried to hide her nerves behind her smile. This was, after all, Cale’s mother: a well-dressed, slim woman, with sharp eyes and an instinct to protect her young. Behind her, Cale’s grandmother, shorter and very obviously naughtier than her daughter, smirked at Cale.
Cale did the introductions and an uncomfortable silence ensued, which was eventually broken by Cale. ‘Want to tell me why you’re here?’
Maddie grimaced at his sharp question and his mother sent him a hurt look. ‘We were in the neighbourhood and I made a chicken casserole.’ Valerie Grant lifted a perfectly manicured hand. ‘It’s on the hall table.’
‘Thanks, Mom.’ Cale sighed but his eyes remained wary. ‘That was kind of you.’
Valerie held out a shopping bag to Cale. ‘I thought you and—Maddie—might want some of these scrapbooks. Megan mentioned that Maddie wants to do a write-up on Oliver, to promote the race.’
Maddie took the bag. She pulled out a handful of photographs and two scrapbooks. ‘Thank you. These are great.’
Maddie sensed rather than saw Cale’s jerky reaction as his eyes flew to the photos. She looked down at the image on top of the pile in her hand. It was of Oliver, sitting in a canoe, his grin wide in his haggard face, his bald head covered with a cap. His once strong body was skeletal and his skin was pasty.
Maddie’s eyes connected with Cale’s bleak gaze and she sent him a reassuring smile.
Cale closed his eyes. ‘I suppose you want some tea or something,’ he muttered.
His mother stepped towards him and patted his arm. ‘Such a kind and gracious invitation.’
Embarrassment skittered across his face and Maddie saw the brief tremor in his hand as he lifted it in apology. Maddie wiggled her hand into his and sighed when he jerked his hand away. Flashing her widest grin, she gestured towards the leather couches.
‘Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll put the kettle on? Tea or coffee?’
‘A cup of coffee would be lovely.’ Valerie smiled. ‘And maybe afterwards you could tell us what progress you’ve made with the race.’
Cale dropped a hand on Maddie’s shoulder. ‘You talk about the race. I’ll make the coffee,’ he said.
Maddie saw his gaze move to the photos on the table and saw the muscles in his neck visibly tighten. There was something about those photographs…
Maddie, reaching for her jacket, watched the tail-lights of Valerie’s car disappear down the driveway through the open front door. She pulled it on and looked in her bag for her car keys. Cale leaned against the doorframe to the study, looking at her through hooded eyes. He’d been in an uncertain mood since his relatives’ arrival and she wondered whether it was worth pushing him to open up.
He needed to vent, she decided. Needed to get rid of that tension, that bubbling mass of emotion that churned below the surface. Instead of heading to the door, she sat on the bottom step of the stairs and looked up at him.
‘Don’t go home. Come to bed with me,’ Cale said, his voice rough.
Maddie cocked her head in thought. She could, and he’d lose himself for a little while, but at three o’clock, when she was fast asleep in her own bed, the spooks would arrive. No, more than sex he needed an ear.
‘Want to tell me why you went white when you saw that photograph of you and Oliver in the canoe?’
‘Sea kayak,’ Cale corrected her.
‘Don’t be pedantic. Why that reaction?’
She noticed his fist clenching in the pocket of his jeans. ‘I don’t want to talk about this, Mad.’
‘Tough, we’re going to. He looked pretty sick. Not long before he died?’ Maddie pushed.
‘About twelve hours,’ Cale muttered and slid down the wall to sit with his back against it, his legs stretched in front of him. His golden Labrador, Marilyn, ambled in and slumped next to him, her head on his thigh. Cale rubbed her ears.
‘Tell me what happened, Cale,’ Maddie insisted.
Cale leaned his head against the wall. ‘Mad, there are some things I just don’t want to talk about—ever.’
Maddie wrapped her hands around one knee. ‘But you need to talk about this. You need to talk to me. It’s festering, Cale, get it out.’
Cale bounded to his feet, slammed the front door closed, stomped past the stairs and headed to the kitchen. Maddie waited him out and eventually he came back, a bottle of red wine and two glasses in his hand. He shoved a glass at Maddie and filled his own glass. When he’d drained half, he took the glass and the bottle and resumed his place on the floor.
‘Towards the end he kept asking—begging, actually—to go for a paddle. For me to take him.’ Cale eventually spoke and his voice was low and laced with pain. ‘I kept saying no, that the doctors said it was a really bad idea, that he was too weak and it was too dangerous. He kept insisting, saying that it was his dying wish. That pissed me off. I wasn’t prepared to accept the thought of him dying.’
Maddie placed her glass on the step next to her. ‘Go on.’
‘Then Megan started on me…’
‘Megan was with him at the end?’
‘They became really close when he was diagnosed and she started nagging me to take him. She wanted what he wanted. They ganged up on me. I knew it was a really bad idea; everything in me knew it. He was in a bad way. Going for an ocean paddle was the most illogical, unreasonable, emotional idea ever. But they nagged and begged and I gave in.’
Cale gulped more wine and rested the glass against his forehead.
‘I waited for the next calm day. The sea was dead flat and we took him down, doctors protesting. He was loaded up with morphine. We started paddling and it was the most stunning day, pancake-flat and hot, but Ol was bitching because he said that he wanted some swell and the adrenalin of fighting the waves. I told him to shut up and kept paddling. I was mad at him for making me do it.’
‘Carry on.’
‘A wind came up. I swear that Oliver conjured it. I still don’t know where it came from, but the swell picked up and it was crazy. Oliver was whooping like a madman in the back and I was struggling to keep us afloat. I turned us around and got us back to shore. When I hit the beach I saw that he’d collapsed, features slack and barely breathing. Thank God we had an ambulance waiting to get us back to the hospital. They stuck him on a ventilator and said that he’d slipped into a coma.’
‘And he died later that night?’ Maddie said, her eyes never leaving his tormented face.
‘Early the next morning. Megan later told me that she thought he knew that he was at the end. He said his last goodbyes to her.’
‘And that was his goodbye to you.’ Maddie spoke softly, her chin in her hand. ‘He wanted to share that one last paddle with you…’
Cale wouldn’t look at her and Maddie bit her lip.
‘What is it, Cale? Why does that day scrape at your soul? You knew he was going to die soon… I’m sorry, but you did.’
‘He should’ve been in hospital, getting treatment, not in a kayak with me. If he had, we might have had more time with him!’ Cale shouted. ‘I knew that if I took
him something bad would happen!’
‘Something bad was always going to happen, Cale,’ Maddie pointed out. ‘It just happened after he’d had a really fun time rather than a miserable day in a white room with beeping machines.’
‘I let emotion overrule common sense,’ Cale muttered.
‘Sure—and I bet your brother would have made you do it again. It was his choice, Cale. He knew the consequences and chose to go out on a high rather than on a bleep.’ Maddie smiled tremulously. ‘Typical Oliver.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Cale muttered.
Maddie nodded her agreement. ‘Probably not. How can I? But I do suspect that while you were trying to control the situation, trying to protect Oliver from himself, Oliver wanted a final experience that made him feel truly alive. He was his own person, Cale, and he made his choice.’
Maddie stood up, pulled her bag over her shoulder and crouched down next to Cale. She placed her hand on his cheek.
‘It was a good choice, Cale. For him. Respect that choice. Respect yourself for allowing him to live his choice. Then let it go. Seriously.’
Maddie, seated on the leather couch in Cale’s study, was reading on a society page that supermodel Gigi was back in town and that she’d had dinner with an old flame. The old flame, unfortunately in Maddie’s opinion, happened to be the gorgeous Cale Grant.
Maddie looked at Cale, who was frowning at his computer monitor. His wire-rimmed reading glasses killed her—made her want to take a bite out of him. Amongst other things. She couldn’t help feeling a little jealous at the thought of Cale and Gigi sharing an intimate supper at a new snazzy restaurant in Camps Bay, practically perched on the beach, even though he’d run Gigi’s invitation by her and she’d encouraged him to accept it.
What else could she say? If she had said no then she’d have come off sounding controlling and insecure, and she needed him to know that she’d grown up, that she trusted him—and she did. It was the thought of what would happen when she left in a couple of months that bugged her. She would be living a million miles away and wouldn’t have a clue who he was dating.
That thought caused her stomach to churn. Maddie closed the lid of her laptop, put it on the floor and stood up.
Cale looked up at her. ‘And now?’
‘I’m bored. Restless.’
Cale rested his head on the back of his chair and smiled at her. ‘You’ve been thinking of New York.’
Look how well he knew her. She had been, but not necessarily in the way he thought. If she went to live there he would have unlimited time to date the woman he’d once proposed to. Or anyone else.
While she’d be buried neck-deep in work. For some strange reason that picture didn’t appeal as much to her as it once had. Work wasn’t quite the refuge it once had been. And whenever she thought of leaving Cale the knife permanently embedded in her heart turned.
‘Have you heard anything?’ Cale asked her.
‘They are still compiling a shortlist of people they want to interview.’
‘Will you have to fly out to meet them?’
Maddie stared out of the study window onto the circular drive. ‘Yes. They pay half of your fare to get to the interview and refund you in full if you get the job.’
‘You sure you still want to do this, Mad?’
Maddie whipped her head around. ‘Of course!
Why?’
Cale put his feet up onto his desk, his face grave as he looked at her. ‘You’re not sounding as enthusiastic as you did.’
‘I’m fine.’ Maddie folded her arms. ‘Am I doing the right thing, Cale? By considering this?’
Cale whipped his glasses off and tossed them onto the desk. ‘Knowing you, Mad, I think you’d always regret it if you didn’t. You’d wonder if you were good enough, whether you could have made the grade. I could tell you that you are and you would, but you wouldn’t believe me or anybody else. You have to go through the process.’
Maddie examined her nails. He had a way of seeing past her bluster to the Maddie underneath.
Cale narrowed his eyes at her huge yawn. ‘Have you been sleeping?’
‘Not much.’ Maddie flicked a glance at her watch and sighed. She moved away from the window, picked up her computer and slid it into its case. ‘I’ve got to get going. Horrid Harriet wants a staff meeting at half-four.’
Cale stood up and walked around the desk as she slung her tote bag over her shoulder. He looked down and pointed to her feet.
‘I told myself I wouldn’t ask but…’ He gestured to the four bright pink ears and two grey noses that peeked out from beneath her tailored grey pants. ‘Why are you wearing slippers?’
Maddie waggled her right foot so that two ears swung under the hem of her trousers. ‘Cute, aren’t they?’
‘No. There is something quite weird about a grown woman wearing pink animals on her feet. Why?’
‘Some jerk ran into the back of my heel in the supermarket with a trolley and gouged some flesh out of it. It’s hell wearing heels, so I grabbed these to wear while I was here.’ Maddie looked at him, frowning at his surprised face. ‘What?’
‘I’m still trying to get my head around the image of you in a supermarket, pushing a trolley. Do you mean you actually have food in your house? Your fridge didn’t give up the ghost in shock?’
‘You do know that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, don’t you?’ Maddie retorted, heading for the hall.
Cale inclined his head. ‘Yeah, but it’s fun. Talking about fun—what time did you say you have to be back at work?’
Maddie looked at his teasing face, his hot eyes, and hurriedly walked out of his house. She’d be fired if she was late for another staff meeting. And once she and Cale got naked time seemed to disappear.
‘I’m leaving. Now,’ she hurriedly informed him.
‘Spoilsport.’
Maddie dumped her stuff on the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Walking around to the driver’s seat, she slid behind the wheel and jammed her key into the ignition.
She threw the car into reverse and swung the car around, narrowly missing Cale’s Range Rover. She sent him a jaunty smile as he shouted a warning from the veranda. She knew her car and knew how to drive it, but she enjoyed his panicked reaction.
She was a fabulous driver. Her grandfather Red had had her racing go-karts from the age of eight, and driving a stick-shift at the age of ten. But it was fun irritating Cale… and she’d bet her car that Gigi was useless. At driving and hopefully lots of other things—except looking gorgeous…
It happened in slow motion. Her mobile rang as Maddie turned the car into the road, and at the same time an ugly, monstrous grasshopper landed on her chest and dropped down her shirt. Maddie screeched as the grasshopper, caught in the hollow between her chest and her bra, wriggled frantically against her skin. Maddie slapped her hand against her chest and felt the warm splat spread…
‘Arrrgh!’ Maddie screamed, and dropped her mobile, yanking at her top with both her hands. One spiky green leg played a death song against her fuchsia bra and Maddie slammed her foot on the accelerator instead of the brake. The car, with about a million horsepower under the bonnet, hurtled forward, choosing the path of least resistance. That path ended at one of the stately old oak trees that lined Primrose Drive.
Glancing up from the grasshopper carnage on her chest, Maddie watched as the tree came hurtling towards her. Closing her eyes, she whipped the steering wheel to her left, and the right hand corner of her beautiful, beautiful car hit the wide oak with a resounding and deafening clunk!
Maddie felt her head bounce off the steering wheel and snap back. Lifting a shaking hand to her forehead, she watched steam billow between her car and the tree, hissing and whooshing in the quiet afternoon air. Hearing the whining engine, she turned off the ignition and closed her eyes…
‘Maddie!’
Megan’s voice penetrated the fog swirling through her brain. It was warm and fuzzy, and she really didn’t wan
t to shrug it off. But insistent hands were stroking her hair back, prodding her arms and shoulders.
‘Maddie! Are you hurt?’
Maybe she should open her eyes, but she suspected opening her eyes would hurt—and it did. A lot.
‘Are you all right?’
‘My car is toast.’ And maybe she wasn’t such a fabulous driver.
‘As long as you are fine, the car can be fixed,’ Megan said, wrenching the door open. ‘Can you get out? Have you broken anything?’
‘No, just bumped my head. Why are you here?’
‘I was in the garden and I heard the crash.’
Maddie tried to shake her head. Tenderly she reached up and touched the lump on her forehead. She could feel it swelling under her fingers, and she felt as if she’d experienced brain surgery without anaesthetic. Gritting her head against the throbbing pain, she swung her feet out of the car and turned to follow Megan’s gaze. Cale was sprinting to the car, his eyes wild.
‘What the hell happened?’ he yelled, coming to an abrupt stop at the car.
Man, the man could move!
Through the scarlet haze of pain Maddie noticed his mouth tighten as he saw the bump on her head, the way his eyes briefly and competently scanned her body.
‘Are you okay?’ Cale demanded, hands on his hips.
Stupid question. Maddie stood up, matched his stance, and slapped her hands on her waist. She glowered at him and lifted her hand to jab a finger in his chest. ‘No, my vintage Jag, beautifully restored, is having a close relationship with a tree.’ Tears welled. ‘No, I have grasshopper guts on my chest.’ Another poke to his chest and the tears slid down her face. Maddie slapped her hand to her head and yelped. ‘And I don’t have violet eyes or wear itty-bitty dresses!’
‘What are you going on about?’
‘Your last girlfriend was a supermodel and you took her to dinner!’
‘Oh, good God. You said you were okay with it!’
‘I am, but she’s so pretty…’
‘She was a neurotic, demanding drama queen who drove me insane,’ Cale muttered as his face darkened. ‘That much you do have in common!’
‘Should you be discussing this? Now?’ Megan asked.
