Chapter Twenty-Two
When she came downstairs, Caz looked around. Beer cans littered the coffee table. Now, she saw it through Grace’s eyes and sighed at herself.
The party hadn’t been planned. The electricity had gone out at work. Ron had given them all the afternoon off and she’d allowed herself to be dragged by Dani to the bar.
Dragged willingly, she had to admit, and maybe that had been her downfall. There had been a few nights with the girls over for pizza, but it had been a while since she’d really let her hair down.
They’d called Portia, who turned up with Dalilah and two women they were kind of hoping to date. Dani and Caz had never met either of them before. They were nice enough, though, and the afternoon had been fun.
She shook her head at herself and began picking up the debris. Then she kicked herself again. There was nothing for dinner. Had the tables been turned and Grace had come home early, she’d have thought about Caz and put together a meal for her.
Instead, Caz had treated the day like a party. And worse, she’d made Grace feel uncomfortable.
A timely reminder that this wasn’t just her home, was it?
“Dick move, Madden.”
Beer cans cleared, she ordered pizza and made sure the lounge looked immaculate just in time for Grace coming back down the stairs; hair up, fluffy slippers on her feet, and the big dressing gown over plaid pyjamas.
“Alright?” Caz asked tentatively as she watched her.
Grace ignored the question and walked straight past and into the kitchen with Caz following.
“Look, I know, I should have asked first. It was totally out of order to just bring everyone home, but the silent treatment isn’t—”
Grace glared at her. “I’m not giving you the silent treatment.”
Caz raised a brow but didn’t push the point.
“The electrics went out at work and your dad sent us all home and—”
Huffing, Grace said, “You invited half the world into our home for a gangbang?”
Caz stared. “A gangbang?” She almost laughed, the idea was so ridiculous, but the look on Grace’s face told her that would be a very bad thing to do if she wanted to stay married. “We just went to the pub and then I thought that was a bit—I didn’t think you’d be impressed with me coming home late, so I made the stupid mistake of inviting them back here, and—”
“I might have said that I had no issue with you getting your needs met elsewhere when the occasion arose, but I didn’t expect you’d be bringing them home to rub it in my face,” Grace exploded. “Honestly, could you be any less subtle?”
“Woah.” Caz held her hands up. “I didn’t…I mean…nope.” She laughed nervously. “You thought Lori and Kay were… Oh my God,” she said to herself as she realised what it all looked like. “No, not at all. I would never do that to you. They were Portia and Daliah’s dates. Me and Dani—we were just having a drink.”
“Sounded like a party, Caz.” Grace had softened, but she wasn’t ready to let the anger diffuse completely.
“I know. We got some beers from the shop and then… You know what it’s like when you’ve got a nice buzz going. I just put the music on and…honestly, I thought you’d join us.” Her head dropped. “I didn’t think whether you’d had a bad day.”
“I didn’t have a bad day, but it was exhausting. I just wanted to come home, have a bath, and then cosy up on the sofa with you. Instead, I find half the pub in here,” she sighed, “and some little shits threw an egg at me.”
“Which little shits?” Caz felt her hackles rise. “I’ll go and find them and—” She was already moving towards the door.
The move threw Grace out of her anger. Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming sense of emotions, the whole thing escalating into an eruption of tears.
“Wait, Caz, don’t.”
“I’m not having them hurting you. I don’t care if it’s an egg or—” She spun around. “Grace?” Retracing her steps, Caz rushed back to the kitchen and pulled Grace closer. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know, I think it’s my hormones, I’m due on and I just wanted a bath and to relax and—”
The doorbell rang.
“Hold that thought, it’s the pizza.” Caz smiled. “Can we start this night over?”
Grace nodded. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Me either,” Caz said over her shoulder. She reached the door and flung it open.
A man standing there, holding out a pizza box said, “Pizza,” as though it wasn’t obvious.
“Yeah, thanks.” She took it from him and closed the door. Turning back, she found Grace holding out a bottle of lager. Their first fight was over.