about that guy … what was his name?’ Laura May was desperate to inconspicuously bring the conversation around to her high school crush. ‘Devon. That’s right. Remember him?’
‘Oh, that’s a sad story,’ Tabar said, shaking his head slowly. ‘Car crash, maybe three years ago?’
Laura May’s stomach twisted in knots. Outwardly, she was too paralysed to speak.
‘What, he died?’ Courtney asked.
‘No, no.’ Tabar shook his head.
‘Oh, thank God he’s OK,’ Laura May said, almost without thinking.
‘Well, I wouldn’t say that.’ Tabar stared into his lager, tugging on the bar mat to move the glass. ‘He’s in a coma, has been all this time.’
‘Holy fuck,’ Courtney gasped.
‘A coma?’ Laura May choked on the words, so simple and short, but complicated as hell. Her throat ran dry. Her brain buzzed like a beehive, and it hurt. God, it hurt.
Laura May spent the remainder of her party in a bereaved daze. She’d had such high hopes for the night. Hell, she’d pretty much planned on going home with Devon. She’d even worn her lucky panties with the cut-out heart shape and a dangling rhinestone in the middle. A little part of her was angry at him for not being there, and that anger was her greatest shame.
There was only one moment she really remembered after that. Marjorie insisted she open her presents in front of everyone, just like little kids at birthday parties.
‘None of this was necessary,’ Laura May told her guests. ‘But thank you, everyone. You’re all so generous.’
Most of the gifts were generic, given that they came from people she hadn’t seen in decades. After she’d set them aside or placed them back in their gift bags, she couldn’t even remember what she’d just opened. Marjorie’s gift was the rare exception.
‘You shouldn’t have, Marjorie!’ Laura May shook her head as she took her best friend’s gift in hand. ‘You’re already paying for this party.’
‘It’s just an itty-bitty gift that reminded me of you,’ Marjorie said with a wolfish grin.
Laura May tore into the wrapping paper. When she saw what was inside, her cheeks flushed. It might as well have been a vibrator.
‘I figure it’s been so long since you had a man around the house that I’d buy you one.’ Marjorie cackled, but laughter from the crowd of guests was sparse. Laura May was not amused by the anatomically correct chocolate mini-man. Not in the least.
‘What?’ Marjorie carried on. ‘This guy’s much better than a flesh-and-blood man. He’s super-tasty and he doesn’t sweat or make stupid jokes or hog the remote. And he’s a “candy man” so you he’s going to buy you nice things.’
Inside, Laura May was raging. She wanted to scream and swear, slap Marjorie in the face, anything to show the woman how rude and mean and inappropriate this gag gift was. But the anger subsided almost as fast as it came on, replaced promptly by a debilitating sadness.
When Laura May tried to speak, all that came out was a whisper. Despite her intense emotion, the only words she could bring herself to say were ‘Thank you’.
The first thing she did when she got home was toss that ridiculous, enraging little man in the garbage. Well, he wasn’t so little, truth be told. His chocolate cock hung so low he looked, at a glance, like he had three legs. OK, that was an exaggeration, but it was unrealistically huge. But even that was no reason to keep him. The chocolate was probably waxy and gross. She tossed it in the trash, packaging and all.
She’d left her own party unreasonably early, sneaking out when Marjorie was in the bathroom. No sense attracting attention to her departure. In fact, she’d left most of her gifts back at the restaurant. She wasn’t sure why she’d brought the candy man home at all.
The drink had gone to Laura May’s head more than she’d realised. Once she’d kicked off her heels, her head started spinning. Her eyelids were like iron. Fully dressed, she draped herself across the couch and fell fast into a dreamless sleep.
A rap at the door awoke her and she sat bolt upright. At first, she wasn’t sure where she was. Laura May very rarely slept on the couch. When her eyes adjusted to her surroundings, she crawled off the couch and dragged herself into the hall. She stood there, staring at the front door, wondering if the knocking she’d heard was real or imagined. Maybe Marjorie had noticed her absence and hunted her down.
Another knock. No, a rattle. And it wasn’t coming from the door, it was coming from the kitchen, from the kitchen cupboard, the one under the sink where she kept the garbage can. She’d put a child lock on the door when her cat started getting into the trash, and it looked like Freddy had somehow wormed his way inside and now couldn’t get out. Laura May had never figured out how he managed that, but it was a common occurrence.
As the kitchen cupboard bopped, Laura May pressed down on the latch, releasing the spring. The small plastic garbage can toppled over and the chocolate man fell out, packaging and all. There was nothing else in the trash, just him, and it seemed strange that Freddy should have snuck into the cupboard without the draw of meat. She waited, but Freddy never emerged.
It suddenly occurred to Laura May that, when she’d awoken to the sound of knocking, Freddy had been sprawled across her legs. When she’d sat up on the couch, he’d jumped to the arm and, as far as she knew, that’s where he’d stayed.
So, if the cat wasn’t making those rapping sounds in her cupboard … what was?
Laura May picked up the chocolate man and set him on the counter, then plugged in the kettle for tea. While she waited for the water to boil, she sat on one of her padded kitchen chairs. Her eyelids drooped, and she thought she’d put her head down for a second, just for a second …
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