Page 34 of The Top of Admiration
Chapter 29: Cam W — The implosion
My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break
The Taming of the Shrew, William Shakespeare
Miranda was surprised to see me at dinner, but with her whole family there, she couldn’t disappear to apply a light-sensitive face mask. I looked like I’d been in a car wreck, which I very nearly had today thanks to Lucy’s driving. I was on crutches, my facial bruises had turned a sickening yellow, and I had a fresh bandage that Juliet had applied this afternoon after a doctor had stitched up my forearm.
“Cam, lovely to see you!” Leah greeted me. Everyone turned their heads, my appearance prompting Juliet to throw a glare at Miranda.
Miranda smiled and said a very quiet hello. I touched her arm lightly, leaning to one side on my crutches. “Hey, can we talk for a minute?”
She was wearing tight black jeans and a loosely fitted blue top. Gorgeous, as usual, but incredibly sheepish looking. “Um, not right now. It’s the dessert. I forgot to take it out of the freezer. I mean, put it in the freezer. I’m just gonna be busy with the freezer for a bit.”
This wouldn’t be easy. “Wow, what happened to you?” Theo asked, not knowing his daughter had caused the broken ankle and stitches.
“Mistaken identity in a bar, broken porch step, and kite mishap. In that order.” I said weakly. This man would think I was anovergrown child. Theo smiled sympathetically. “Don’t worry. These things come in threes. You’re probably safe now.”
Juliet snorted and drank half her glass of wine. She seemed to be on edge. Not her usual “I disapprove but this is amusing” self. Seamus glanced at her uneasily.
Dinners at Cordy’s house were always a little chaotic, like a polite hurricane with placemats. Tonight there were roast chickens, three salads that didn’t coordinate, two plates of potatoes, and a stack of bowls that kept migrating down the table as if sentient. I sat near the end beside Miranda, which seemed to make her slightly nervous.
“Pass the potatoes, please Lucy,” Leah said, even though they were already in her hand. “Are these the buttery ones or the healthy ones?”
“The healthy ones,” Jules answered tightly. “Which means you’ll hate them.”
“I don’t hate health,” Leah protested, spooning a mountain of the healthy potatoes onto her plate to prove a point. “I just prefer butter. Cam, darling, do you take butter? You’re recovering from injuries. You should take butter.”
“I’m okay, thank you,” I said, smiling. Miranda watched me, with a look of guilt all over her face.
Miranda stabbed a carrot. I’d come braced for awkward but hadn’t anticipated the way the sight of the bandage and crutches would make her feel so guilty.
“Also,” Leah added brightly, “who sent that kite to you Cam? Jules told me about your latest accident. My dad loved kites! He used to build his own.”
Jules put her fork down, very deliberately. “Can we not pretend we don’t know?”
“Know what?” Leah asked. “Is this one of those games where I guess the thing that everyone else already … Oh, is this an internet thing? You young people make—”
“It’s Miranda,” Jules said, cutting through Leah’s sentence and the noise of clinking cutlery. Her voice was sharp enough to slice the room into silence. “It’s always Miranda.”
Every chair seemed to shift at once. Miranda froze with her glass halfway to her mouth. Cordy scraped a salad bowl noisily. I looked down at my plate, then up at Jules with a measured calm, silently begging her not to make a scene and upset Miranda.
“Juliet,” Seamus said gently, “maybe—”
“No, Seamus,” she snapped. “We’re past ‘maybe.’”
Leah blinked rapidly. “Past maybe where? Oooh, is this a progressive dinner party where you go to a different house for each dish?” Geez Leah, read the room.
Jules pointed—not at my bandage, but at Miranda. “He’s been to urgent care twice in two weeks. And had to see a nurse the other time. The bar, the step—”
“Miranda didn’t cause the bar incident,” I chimed in. Obviously we were all past pretending we didn’t know.
“Yes, she did,” Juliet said sharply. “She ordered that drink, not the cougar.”
“A cougar?” Leah looked confused.
“That was not my—” Miranda started, then shut her mouth. The table had turned into a witness stand she hadn’t asked for.
“And now the kite,” Jules went on, relentless. “Because you can’t just say thank you like a normal person, you have to turn it into a covert operation. Into drama. You got him hurt, Miranda. Again.”
