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Everything was on schedule for the release ofDoom Patrol: Revisited, so the meeting was just a lot of checking in with other teams and trying to anticipate what issues might pop up in the future. It was as boring as it sounded, but thanks to Bluetooth technology, I was able to order a mid-meeting muffin to carry me through the last thirty minutes.
The meeting ended just as I took the last bite. I brushed the crumbs off my lap before picking up my phone to check in with Daddy.
Me: Are you ready to be picked up?
I set my phone on the table and went back to working on a line of code that was giving me problems while I waited for his response.
“Sutton Buchanan?” I looked up from my screen at the sound of my name, trying to blink the world back to focus. “Oh my Lord, itisyou!”
I blinked a few extra times, hoping I wasn’t actually seeing Cam Thomas standing in front of me holding a to-go cup. Maybe it was just a hallucination brought on by eye strain. It was time to order those blue-light glasses Mama was always sending me ads for. When she didn’t vanish, panic momentarily pushed every thought out of my brain.
Intellectually, I understood that what Sissy had done was not my fault, but emotionally, I still felt like her sins had somehow tainted me, like I had to feel the shame for her, since she was clearly incapable of feeling it herself.
I finally managed to force some words out of my mouth while pulling out my headphones. “Cam, hi, wow, hi.”
Much to my horror, Cam pulled out the empty seat and, after a quick glance around the room, sat down.
“I sneak over here a couple times a week and grab a coffee. My parents are still salty about this place opening up. They refuse to accept that anyone could possibly want something other than the black tar they serve at the diner, bless their hearts.” She waved her hand, and my eyes homed in on the rings stacked on her left ring finger. “Gosh, how long has it been since we’ve seen each other?”
“A long time. How are you?”
Our mothers had stayed friends despite all the drama between their children. They were like ostriches with their heads buried in the sand — refusing to acknowledge the rift, choosing to believe Sissy and Cam had just drifted apart after high school. “These things happen,” they would say if anyone asked them about it.
I sort of admired their willingness to protect their friendship. Making friends as an adult was the equivalent of running a mile in under ten minutes. Sure, some people could do it, but most of us were out here breaking a sweat getting off the couch to get more snacks.
I’d never felt comfortable asking about Cam, though. It felt like navigating a field filled with landmines — one wrong step could blow the whole thing up. I’d thought of her countless times over the years, hoping that she was well and happy.
“Good — busy, but good. How are you? What have you been up to for, ohhh, the last ten years or so?”
My shoulders slowly relaxed away from my ears at the earnestness of her question and the genuineness in her smile. It gave me hope that the years had been good to her, and that she didn’t hate us all for Sissy’s mistakes.
“Nothing too exciting. I moved to Savannah after graduation, and I’ve been there ever since. I’m a developer at a software company that mostly makes video games.”
“That’s amazing, Sutton! You always were into gaming, and Savannah is such a great city.”
I nodded, spinning my cup around on the table. “I like it there. It has a lot of the small-town charm of Beacon Hill, but with way more people. How about you?”
“Well,” she started with a self-deprecating grin, “as you can see, I didn’t quite make it out of Beacon Hill. That’s okay, though. I love being able to raise my kids here. I appreciate it way more as a parent than I ever did as a kid, that’s for sure.”
“Kids, huh?”
“Yep! Two,” she said with a nod, pulling her phone out of her purse. “Jake just turned four and Birdie will be two in July.”
I took the phone and looked at the picture of two smiling kids on her screen. They looked like smaller versions of their mother.
“Oh my gosh, they’re adorable, Cam! They look just like you, too.”
“I know. My husband is trying to convince me that we need to have one more so maybe he’ll finally have a child who looks like him. I might give in once I forget how miserable the newborn phase is.” I handed her back the phone and she slipped it into her purse. “He’s a pediatrician. My husband. He took over Dr. Walters’s practice when he retired. I never thought I would willingly live in Beacon Hill, but I wanted to move back almost as soon as I found out I was pregnant. That might have been the hormones, though.”
“You have a beautiful family, really.”
“I’m definitely biased, but I’d have to agree. What about you?”
“No husband or kids. Still very single, but I don’t mind. I’m happy, so I want someone toadd tothat happiness. If that makes sense.”
Like all chronically single people, I felt the instinctive need to defend my single status, especially to happily married people. They were honestly the worst.
“I always admired that about you, you know? How comfortable you seemed in your own skin.”
