Page 2 of The Top of Admiration
A Midsummer Night’s Dream, William Shakespeare
Philomena’s was an amazing restaurant. I’d had to give my name, phone number, deposit and the promise of my firstborn to get in here tonight. I appreciated all the beautiful touches. The décor was superb, with soft, watercolor paintings lining the walls and fresh flowers at the entrance. Cam had just walked in, chanting “yeah, it’s cool” at everything I pointed out. I had an artist’s eye, so I accepted that appreciating esthetics really just wasn’t his thing.
“So, happy four years!” I held up my wine glass to clink against Cam’s beer.
“Cheers!” He agreed happily.
“Randa, there’s something I want to tell you, and it’s exciting, so prepare yourself.”
I leaned in eagerly. Cordy was wrong. Lucy was wrong. Four years was a long time to spend with someone, and even someone as casual as Cam knew that.
“I’m going on a trip next week. To LA!” His smile was broad, and he looked at me expectantly.
This was not what I had expected.
“Oh, that’s great. With Marius?” Marius was his best friend, and they frequently went on boys’ weekends.
“No, with Jess! She’s got an in at a recording label. She’s doing some social media for them and I’m going as her ‘assistant,’ so I can wrangle an intro!”
My stomach dropped. Fucking Jessica Chase. His high-school buddy who had always been “just like a sister.” I did believe him that he wasn’t attracted to her, but she was a constant intrusion in our lives. Always at his house, always coming around to mine with him, even though we were not really friends independently of Cam.
“Great,” I managed. “That’s great, Cam. You can play them your new song.”
The new song wasn’t about me. It was about “finding freedom” in music. His songs were never about me. Actually, scratch that. He’d written a song about my tits once when he was drunk, and he often sang it in the bedroom when he was feeling humorous. Last month, I’d snapped at him before he’d finished the chorus. He was shocked and told me that “not everyone woman has an ode written to her breasts.”
He sang it once in the kitchen at home, earning an angry “What the fuck?” from Damon. If he’d actually written me a love song as well, I’d find it funny. But after years together, all I’d earned was a song about my boobs. Not about my heart, or my art, just my boobs. Hey, “heart” and “art” rhymed. This song would practically write itself.
“You don’t seem impressed,” he observed, looking disappointed.
“Sorry, not sorry!” I snapped. “We come out to celebrate four years and you announce you’re going away on a vacation with another woman.”
“Jess isn’t a ‘woman’ in that sense, and she’s been a hell of a lot more encouraging of my career than you have been lately,” he retorted. “Fuck, Miranda. You put me under so much pressure.”
“When? What pressure? What have I ever said other than asking you to move in when Skye left?”
“You said that … well, you said … Fucking hell. It’s not what you say, it’s how you look at me. Like you want to drag me down the aisle and have a million kids.”
“I’m not even sure I want children, Cam. And marriage? I’ve never mentioned that at all. We’re adults and committed adults sometimes want to live together. Excuse me for wanting that!”
This night was going badly. Even one of Cordy’s stern lectures wouldn’t work on someone as emotionally dull as Cam. I wasn’t perfect. Of all people, I wasn’t perfect. I was impulsive and irresponsible at times. I was easily distracted and lacked the ability to make long-term plans. But I was loyal and loving. I committed easily and valued the relationships in my life. I cared for others and made their emotions and wellbeing a priority. Didn’t I deserve that back in the most intimate relationship in my life?
“Well, thanks for fucking up a happy occasion.” His ill-timed comment arrived as the waitress brought our food. She put the dishes down and briskly walked away.
“Forget it. Let’s eat and go home. Me to my house, and you to yours. Or Jessica’s,” I spat out.
“For the last time, Jess is a friend. Jealousy isn’t a good look on you Miranda. I’m getting sick of it and Jess is sensing hostility.”
At least Jess had some self-awareness. I reached under the table to text the sister chat.
Me: No commitment. Just fight about Jess and his upcoming vacation with her.
Cordy: What the fuck? I’ll tell Lucy to prepare the handcuffs.
Jules: I’m so sorry, Randa. Call me later x
“Texting the Sisterhood of Eternal Judgment?” Cam asked sarcastically.
I increased my eating rate. My stomach would give me pain later tonight, but it’d be worth it to leave this nightmare as soon as possible.
