Something that came out of a poem

 Tiredly, Cathy opened the front door. A sigh escaped her lips; it had been a long day in the office.  The house is quiet, too quiet.  Her footsteps echoed on the marble floor.

“Damn place is way to big for one person” she thought with regret that it should have been filled with the sound of children’s voices and the pounding of their footsteps as they run to greet their father.  Her voice calling out to see how his day had been and if he’d like a drink before dinner.

Tears sprang to her eyes, angrily she brushed them away “If I hadn’t been so caught up in my career I could have had all that” she shattered the silence with her words.  Walking down the hall, past all the original artworks she and Brad collected over the years, (instead of children) She’d been so proud of it once, now it was a constant reminder of her failed marriage. Cathy headed to the kitchen “I’d give all this away to be able to spend eternity with him” smiling a little at this.  Cathy poured herself a glass of wine and thought about the phone call she had to make.  She walked into the study, kicked off her shoes and curled up on the couch. 

Her thoughts wandered once again as she sipped her drink; the same night 15 years ago, a lifetime ago.

The night before her marriage, she’d been so happy, knowing she was marrying the man of her dreams. She and Brad had decided that they would work hard and build the life they wanted for their children to come. They wanted to be able to give them everything and anything. Brad had wanted 4 kids; she’d talked him down to 3.  Cathy had been looking forward to growing old with Brad.  Watching their grandchildren play where their parents had once played.

Then, suddenly their marriage had come to a screaming halt, all because of her career. Then “That Slut” had come along, seduced her husband into believing that she could give him what his heart most desired, children.  Cathy brushed at the tears angrily once more. She’d tried for years on and off to conceive.  She’d had 3 miscarriages and she told Brad she couldn’t survive another. He wouldn’t here of adoption, and so she’d buried herself in her career and lost him to HER!

Had it been only a year? Her thoughts drifted back over the past year.  How she survived the pain of losing him.  The clock struck 9pm breaking into her reverie. Cathy sighed and gave herself a mental shake “snap out of it girl!” she laughed resignedly. Picked up the phone and dialed the number she took a deep breath and braced herself to hear his voice.

The phone rings – “Hello”, she was suddenly tongue-tied as she heard his voice “hello?” Brad said again, “hi” came back the almost whispered reply, Cathy cleared her throat “Hi Brad” said with confidence. A pause, full of wants and desires from both.

“Cathy?” He caressed her name with his voice. “Yes” she said softly. Her question had been answered; he still cared she thought elatedly. Her heart soared as she said, “I was wondering; it’s our anniversary tomorrow, would you like to come over for dinner?”

Another pause as each remembered that special Valentine’s day 15 years ago.

“I’d love to” neither acknowledges the fact that, with that one simple statement he had left his lover.  She had never wanted children, just his money.

They agreed on a time “7.30 it is then, and I’ll bring the wine” He hung up, slowly Cathy replaced the receiver.

Taking her glass of wine, she toasted herself, and drank deeply.
Hurrying out of the room, Cathy headed upstairs; she had a lot to prepare for the special night before she went to bed.

On her way to work the next day, she stopped in at the chemist and had her script filled. Eileen, her secretary was let into the secret, her appointments were rearranged and the afternoon cleared.  Flowers were ordered She gave Eileen the afternoon off. Both left the office together. As they approached the pavement, Cathy unexpectedly gave Eileen a hug and thanked her for being such a good friend, especially over the past year.

Cathy entered the house with a light step. The house no longer seemed lonely.  She hurried to the kitchen and began her preparations for dinner.  All was ready, even her special sauce had been made, everything properly mixed, a slight taste of almonds (although she won’t know this till she has poured it on their meal later) can be detected.

As the sun began to set she surveyed with satisfaction the table in the dining room. The flowers, artfully arranged, in the centre, Jasmine scented candles ready to be lit in the candelabra. The afternoon sun hit a knife and crystal goblet, threw a rainbow of colour against the far wall.

Cathy hurried upstairs to the shower.  She thought of seeing Brad again.

After her shower, she paused at the full-length mirror and gazed objectively at the 40-year-old woman that stared back at her. “Well Cathy you may not be 23 anymore but you certainly don’t look 40” Smiling complacently she walked into her bedroom and proceeded to dress.

Brad’s favourite dress, an emerald green evening dress, the perfume he gave her their last Christmas together and a simple diamond pendant, given by Brad on their wedding day. Her hair in a soft french knot. Everything had been done for Brad that night, it had been crucial to her plan.

One last look at the master bedroom had told her all was perfect, she had closed the door on this room the day he’d left, swearing she wouldn’t sleep there again unless HE was next to her. It had become a shrine to their marriage.

The doorbell chimed, Cathy hurried downstairs.
Opening the door, Cathy was suddenly speechless she and Brad drank in the sight of each other. Silently he handing her the wine, walked into the house, turned to her and said “you look as beautiful as the day we married Cathy”
She felts a twinge of guilt, should she have done this after all?. “Yes, it was the right thing, we were meant to be together” she said silently to herself.

She led him to the dining room; the candles gave off a light odour of Jasmine. The table sparkled and shimmered like she did.

Dinner was a success, nothing had been over cooked and all Brad had all his favourite foods.

Brad poured the wine and they toasted the memories, laughing, they reminisced about their wedding day, their first dinner party and their life together. 

Brad poured more wine and insisted they have more of her special sauce, he went to the kitchen for it. Cathy shone that night; there was a glow in her eyes he hadn’t seen in years. She was happy, content and in love all over again.

With dinner finished Brad walked over to Cathy, took her hand and led her to the nuptial bed upstairs.

They made love, reliving their wedding night, renewing their vows silently with their bodies.

“Soon” she thought as they held each other
“Soon” she thought as he grazed her forehead with a tender kiss
“Soon” she thought to herself as he drifted off to sleep, never to wake again.
“Soon we’ll be together forever” she mumbled as she too drifted off to eternal slumber.

The next morning the cleaning lady let herself in. She smelt candle wax, walked into the dining room.  She stared in surprise; “It wasn’t like Cathy to leave this mess here”. Heading to the kitchen she discovered a clean saucepan, sauce jug, two wineglasses and strangest of all, a perfectly clean empty bottle of wine.

As she headed upstairs, calling Cathy’s name she dreading what would be found. She’d been a little worried since last week when Cathy had asked her to clean the Master bedroom, a room she’d never been allowed to enter.

The door to that room was ajar; the house was once again silent.  She pushed open the door. The Silence shattered by her screams.  Racing to the phone she called emergency, within minutes the ambulance and police had arrived.

The ambulance men walked out of the room, shaking their heads, nothing they could have done here. A massive overdose had been given, and taken.  The police took over, still visibly upset the cleaning lady pointed out the note on the dressing table, written by Brad.

The papers said the note had stated he couldn’t live without her. It had been an apparent murder/suicide. She was all he’d ever wanted.
“Forensics state that either the sauce or wine had been poisoned, they didn’t know for sure which, possibly both.”

“Had Brad done it?
Or was it Cathy?
Will we ever know?
Probably not.

On to the next item in this weeks news…”

 

By Lisa Cannons