Chapter 4 Miranda — The other Cam
Good wine is a good familiar creature if it be well used.
Othello, William Shakespeare
I stomped into the house, feeling ready to burst into tears.
I wasn’t a crier. Despite being frequently described as “emotional,” I rarely cried.
I needed my sisters and a glass of wine.
Juliet was working tonight, as always, and Cordy was at Damon’s so maybe Lucy would be up for cheering my miserable self up.
“Hey, Randa. Why are you home so early?” Cordy was on the couch, tucked in next to Damon. With them sat Cam W and Lucy. I guess there was a change of venue tonight, giving me an unwanted audience.
“Restaurant wasn’t that great. And I’m tired.
I don’t feel well.” I held it together. I slipped off my shoes and sat on the only spare seat, next to Other Cam, as I’d come to call him in my head.
Being social for five minutes would help sell my story and hold me together until I could fall apart in front of Cordy or Lucy.
“That’s a sad face. Not a tired face. Trouble in paradise or you just missed me?” Other Cam, Flirty Cam, put his arm around my shoulders.
“No, it’s a tired face. You don’t know my faces.” I shrugged his arm off me.
“I’ll grab you a wine.” Lucy was on her feet before I could say no. Cordy looked at me with her “mom face.”
“Well, we’re just talking shit and drinking, but if you feel sick, you should go to bed.” My beautiful sister was giving me an out. A text arrived from Insensitive Cam.
Me: I’m sorry, babe. I really am. I wanted to spoil you tonight. Come over.
Fuck him.
Randa: Okay. No. Busy.
Now I was angry, not sad. I’d drink that fucking wine and five more after that.
“Nah, I’m good. Maybe a wine would help me feel better.”
“Alcohol never fixes illness, Randa,” Damon pointed out logically. Cordy stared at him. He really didn’t understand that I wasn’t really feeling unwell. Sweet, na?ve Damon. Ready to believe anything.
“Here,” Lucy shoved a glass of pinot into my hand. “Drink your medicine.”
I took a few swigs, draining half the glass in world-record time.
“That’s fucking impressive,” Other Cam said, looking astonished.
“Yeah, well, I have many skills.”
“I’m sure you do. You should show me more of those.” He winked at me. This man was relentless. He wasn’t touchy-feely with me, but he flirted like it was a full-time job.
“Not in the mood.”
I finished the rest of my glass, holding it out for Lucy, who stood there ready with the bottle. She refilled me and I took some more sips, though I was a little more restrained now.
“You know Randa, some people are like stepping stones—wobbly, forgettable, and best left behind—but they are necessary to get to another place.” Lucy was big on drunken wisdom, and my sad and angry demeanor gave her the ideal opportunity to wheel it out.
“You sound like a fortune cookie,” Cordelia giggled. I laughed with her, stopping only when I saw the name that appeared on my phone.
Jessica C: I’m so sorry about how your night turned out Randa. Wanna chat?
What in the unholy, nerve-of-this-bitch, actual fuck? Obviously, Asshole Cam had already given her a rundown of our night. Hell no. This bitch needs to sashay her “just a friend” ass out of my life. I wasn’t feeling tolerant enough to ignore her.
Me: Appreciate your concern! It’s funny how rewarding staying in your own lane can be.
No doubt that message would earn me a scolding from Asshole Cam. My scowl must have been showing because Lucy narrowed her eyes at me in suspicion.
“Cam already sucking up?” she asked.
“No, it’s the ever-helpful Jess.”
“Who’s this Jess chick?” Flirty Cam interjected.
“Jess is the human version of a pop-up ad that you can’t close. She is always there, blocking the good stuff,” Cordy supplied helpfully.
“Ah, the interloper. The ‘just a friend’ chick,” Flirty Cam surmised. “I can be ‘just a friend’ if you want. Fire with fire.”
Ugh, the last thing I wanted was some Harrison–Cordy–Damon fake boyfriend scheme.
It was funny to be the puppet master of that little adventure, but I didn’t want to be a major player.
Cordy and Damon ended up together, but I had no interest in Flirty Cam.
He was staid and predictable, not my type.
He was a nice friend though; not that we were close.
“It’s fine. It’ll die down.”
“Or it’ll be a dumpster fire, and that moonwalking bitch will pour more fuel on it,” Lucy stated. Lucy always called Jess “the moonwalker” because she did have a funny way of walking. She almost glided, like she was perpetually wearing those wheelie shoes that kids loved.
“Not if I don’t let her,” I responded calmly.
Sensing my mind-your-own-business vibes, Cordy addressed everyone in an artificially cheerful tone.
“Let’s watch something. I’m bored.”
We settled on a thriller. Men were getting killed left and right.
Yeah, I could get into this movie. Now, where was that wine bottle?
Pushing back into the couch, I let myself be transported into a dramatic world where karma reigned and stupid men were punished.
I felt Other Cam’s arm against mine, steady and firm.
No harm in taking some comfort from a nice, warm bicep.