Page 7 of The Top of Admiration
“I’m not just angry about the song Cam, though serenading my breasts in front of all my friends was a terrific end to a shitty night. I’m not your fucking punchline to be reduced to body parts for a laugh. I’m your girlfriend! The fact that you have more than one thing to apologize for after our four-year anniversary should tell you something. And why the fuck are you sharing our relationship problems with Jess?”
He kissed my face and pulled me closer.
“I know babe, I’ll do better. Why don’t we start spending more nights together? Six nights instead of five?”
I scoffed. More sex was my consolation prize? How long could I keep doing this? I didn’t answer; I just stared directly into the wall in front of me.
“When I get back from LA next Friday, I’ll take you somewhere nice to make up for last night. I promise.”
“About that. I told you I had my first show next week, and instead, you’re gallivanting off with Jess. You know how important this is to me.”
“Shit, I thought it was just a random show. I didn’t know you had pieces in it.”
“One piece, Cam. But I worked hard on it. You were fucking there as I sketched it, telling me how proud you were. Now, I getto show it properly at a real gallery and you’re off for a drunken binge with your high-school buddy and crush.”
“She’s not a crush, Miranda! How many times do I have to tell you that? And this trip is for my career. It’s not a fucking excuse to binge drink.”
I huffed and crossed my arms. He’d taken so many of these “career” trips and they’d all ended in rejection and copious amounts of alcohol. We were approaching our late 20s. When would he grow up? Lucy was right. I needed to cut the cord, but I still loved him. His humor was the best, though he did use it at inappropriate times. He was the kind of guy who tried to joke his way out of trouble, even when it was wildly inappropriate to do so, like that terrible time at dinner with Mom and Dad.
“How’s the songwriting going?” Mom asked Cam, who was tucking into his roast beef like he hadn’t eaten in years.
“Awesome! With a muse like your daughter, I can’t lose.” He smiled at me through his mouthful of food. I didn’t even look at Dad, who I knew couldn’t bear it when people spoke with their mouths full.
“Ah yes. Two artists together will always make for an interesting life, and I imagine a very busy life.” Mom commented.
“Yeah, well, like your dad always says, I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”
There was silence.
“My fatherisdead,” Mom said in a steady voice.
Cam sat mutely, his cheeks full of beef.
“Grandpa Harold died last year, Cam. You were at his funeral,” I hissed in his ear.
He swallowed.
“Yeah, well, I guess he is sleeping now. He ghosted us.” He forced a laugh.
Oh my God. Kill me now. Dad cleared his throat and glared at Cam.
“Well, I hope his spirit haunts your sense of humor,” Mom remarked dryly, standing to pass Cordy the beans.
“I know how important this is to you Miranda. I’ll cut the trip short and be back in time for your show Thursday night.” Cam pulled my head around to face him and kissed me, like the argument was over. I sighed. I did love him. I just needed him to be there, to really see me. I’d give him another chance, but if he blew it again, well I … I don’t know. I’d end it, I guess. I’d say goodbye to four years of building something with him.
Chapter 7: Miranda — Third wheels
The bitter clamor of two eager tongues.
Richard II, William Shakespeare
I sat at the café, wondering why Cam thought it would be a good idea to bring Jess to our dinner. He was flying out tomorrow, and tonight was meant to be about us spending time together.
“I so admire your career, Miranda. I mean, art is a hard world to break into, but you’ve never given up, even after years of not making it.” Jess smiled brightly as she cut up her chicken.
Cam sat silently at my side, too stupid to realize that she was having a crack at me, or maybe too far gone to care.
“Well, we can’t all ride on the coattails of high-school popularity. Determination and grit are required in the real world in any career.” I smiled back at her, just as brightly.
