Chapter 22 Miranda — Good karma
So shines a good deed in a naughty world
The Merchant of Venice, William Shakespeare
I had to do something for Cam. I was sworn to secrecy, but he had helped me anonymously, so I concluded that I’d do the same thing.
Art was too identifiable as being from me, so that was off the table.
It had to be something he would never trace back to me.
Then, an idea struck! He’d been complaining about his fourth step having a broken board.
Surely it wouldn’t be too hard to fix. A bit of YouTube and some timber and the job would be done.
I’d visit Damon at the lumberyard and ask for some wood for a project.
I’d “borrowed” heaps of stuff from his yard for art, so he’d assume it was a sculpture or something.
Of course, that wouldn’t be an adequate thank-you, so I’d find other small ways to make his life easier.
We were becoming closer, not close exactly, but when I saw him at Damon’s, I stayed to make conversation.
Previously, I’d been polite but not overly warm.
I was dreading seeing him again, not because I didn’t want to, but because now that I knew he was my heroic donor, I was worried I’d blurt something out or somehow blow his “secret” with Jules and Seamus out of the water.
Maybe I could just avoid him for a while and not pop in when his car was outside.
That also meant I’d have to hide in my room when he came around to our house to visit Lucy.
Ugh, this was a mess. Too many secrets. Seamus knew that I knew, which meant Jules would soon know too.
But Cam didn’t know that I knew, and I didn’t know if Damon knew that Cam was the donor, or that Cordy knew, but she would soon know, which meant Damon would know.
And they would know that I knew, but that Cam didn’t know.
Too many people knew but knew that others didn’t know but knew that others knew. I think. This was exhausting.
I’d have to wait until night or when he wasn’t home. I knew he was heading out of two for two days, so the step would have to wait until then. But for now? I would head to O’Malley’s, where I knew he went for a few drinks after work on Fridays.
I walked into the bar at five, knowing he wouldn’t be there until about six.
I felt jittery and ridiculous in my own skin and explained to the bartender in a whisper.
“Could you… give this to Cam, the guy from the app thingy company when he gets here? Just put it there and don’t say who it’s from.
” I pushed a folded note and the cash, including a generous tip, across the counter.
“And, um, something neat. Not too sweet.”
The bartender, who had obviously seen a lot of odd requests, raised an eyebrow but obliged. “You want it anonymous?”
“Very much so.” I tried to sound nonchalant and probably failed. “Thank you.”
The note had taken ages to write. In the end, I opted for something simple.
This is just for you. Because I want you to know that someone out there is thinking of you x
I smiled. That would do nicely. It wasn’t romantic and it didn’t identify me.
Given my borderline standoffish behavior to him and my bizarre airport performance, he had no reason to suspect me.
In his mind, I had no idea that he was my anonymous donor.
Seamus certainly wouldn’t tell him about the seven minutes of hell at his office.