Dead to Her(30)

“Honey? You and Marcie here?”

The voice was barely audible over the music, but it cut like frozen steel through the moment and even as Marcie startled, Keisha had pulled away. They both gasped, kids nearly caught out, and Keisha turned the music down as she called, “Out here!” Looking around as she quickly smoothed her hair, Marcie expected to see evidence of their debauchery laid bare in an afternoon’s worth of food and drink debris, but the solitary margarita jug—even empty as it was—two glasses and bag of chips that were on the table looked almost respectable. The dancing, the weed, the confessions, and the kiss all felt as if they belonged to a dream Marcie had been suddenly woken from.

William and Jason appeared in the doorway, both in polo shirts and pressed pants, straight from the golf course. The party was over. The men were back.





19.

Marcie had managed to appear passably sober until they left, but as soon as Jason started driving the motion of the car sent her head spinning and stomach lurching. She turned the AC up high and took deep breaths as she focused on keeping the contents of her guts where they were supposed to be. She hadn’t felt this bad since . . . when? She could barely remember. A different life.

“Not so fast on the corners,” she muttered as her throat constricted with nausea. A cold sweat broke out across her chest. This was not going to end well.

“How much did you drink? You’re a mess.”

She looked over at him, at the irritated frown furrowing his forehead. She shrugged and pointed at herself. “This much?” Her giggle turned into a groan. “I’m going to puke.”

“Jesus, Marcie. Can you wait till we get home?”

As it turned out, she couldn’t, and even as, hanging out of the open car door, she retched up chunks of doughnut and the acid tang of tequila and lime, she could feel his disapproval coming from the driver’s seat. Finally, when she was getting her breath back and the world had settled slightly back onto an even keel, he dug a tissue out of the glove compartment for her to wipe her mouth.

“Better?”

“A bit.” She flopped back against the leather seat. “I just want to lie down.”

“You normally handle your liquor better than this.” Jason’s eyes narrowed. “Were you smoking?”

The tone of his voice was really starting to irritate her. How many times had she looked after him when he’d rolled home drunk after a boys’ night out? Okay, not so many times in the past couple of years, but she had.

“Don’t be so uptight. It wasn’t cigarettes.” No, he’d made sure she quit those as part of her transformation from hot waitress to high society wife. “Just a bit of weed.”

“Weed?” He twisted around in his seat to face her. “Where the hell did you get that from? Don’t tell me you bought it from one of those tramps you feed? Who knows what could be in—”

“Calm down, it wasn’t mine. Keisha found it.” She let out a half-laugh. “You’ll never guess where. In Eleanor’s stuff. Hidden in with her underwear apparently. There was morphine and needles there too.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “So be glad I didn’t try that.”

“Jesus.”

“Anyway, you’re the one who wanted me to be friends with her.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean turn into some kind of college dropout and embarrass yourself.”

“Oh, screw you, Jason.” Her patience snapped. He wasn’t her father. “It’s not a big deal. You’re going away for a whole weekend tomorrow and you’re pissed that I had some fun?” Some fun. She’d kissed a girl. She’d actually kissed a girl.

“Yep.” Jason pulled back onto the road, faster than he needed to. “Puking out of the car sure looks like fun.”

They sat in silence while her stomach roiled once more. She swallowed hard, pretty sure she was going to be sick again.

“William will lose his shit if he finds out she looked through Eleanor’s things.”

“I wasn’t planning on telling him,” Marcie said. “And you’d better not either. Can we let it go now? Or I’ll hurl again all over your legs.” She gave him a grimace of a smile and he begrudgingly smiled back.

“Sometimes I forget you’re still pretty young.”

Yeah, she thought. Sometimes I do too.



It was dark when she woke, head throbbing and mouth acid dry. Her stomach muscles ached as she carefully sat up and drained the glass of water Jason had put there for her before she’d passed out. As she lay back down she didn’t reach for him as he slept beside her, one arm stretched out under his pillow.

She was going to feel awful tomorrow. Was it the weed or the tequila or the combination that had wrecked her? Probably all of it. The grass had been strong. Stronger than anything she’d ever smoked and she was very much out of practice. Had Keisha been sick too? Probably not.

Keisha. God, what an afternoon. Marcie still couldn’t get her head around it. Everything felt upside down, all that hatred gone. They were alike, there was no denying it. Both from tough backgrounds, both a lot younger than their husbands, both being forced into a mold that wasn’t their shape. Both alone. There were differences too, though. Marcie hadn’t married Jason for his money. Yes, it had been attractive to have a man who could look after her, but she’d loved him when they got together. She still did love him.