One Small Step

by M. A. Binfield

  “Iris?” she called out. “Iris, wait.”

  Iris turned slowly, looking in her direction but not really making proper eye contact.

  Cam spoke quietly. “I wanted…I wanted to talk about Friday. I didn’t get a chance Sunday. You didn’t come to the pub. Could we go somewhere, maybe have lunch?” She sounded as unsure as she felt.

  Iris studied her. Cam couldn’t quite read the expression, but thought she looked guarded, not exactly hostile, but definitely ready to run.

  “I’m pretty busy, Cam, sorry.”

  “Are you mad at me?” She stepped a little closer.

  “Are you serious?” Iris didn’t wait for her to answer. “I’m not mad at you, no. I’m fine with you touching me, almost kissing me, and then running off into the arms of your fiancé and ignoring me for the rest of the evening. It’s not like I went home feeling completely ashamed of myself. And obviously I’m also totally fine with you blaming it all on the drink and letting me know that ‘drunk you’ did things you regret. I already got the message, Cam. You were drunk, you didn’t mean it. I’m not sure we need to labor it over lunch.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “It’s okay, Cam. It’s my problem not yours. It’s not that I didn’t know you were engaged and a little bored. I should have seen it coming.” She ran her hand through her hair, the exasperation clear.

  “That’s not fair.” She couldn’t bear Iris thinking that way about her, about them, but she couldn’t find the words to tell Iris why she was wrong.

  “Look, Cam, it’s really okay. We had a little too much to drink and got a bit carried away. Luckily nothing happened so let’s just forget about it, eh? Make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Iris sounded calm, but underneath Cam could hear the tension. She moved off toward her office, before turning back to Cam.

  “Oh, and I didn’t listen to the voice mail.”

  “I wasn’t sure, but after this,” she indicated the corridor and the two of them in a sweeping gesture with her hand, “I guessed you hadn’t.”

  “You asked me not to, Cam.”

  “I know I did, maybe I shouldn’t have.” Cam sighed.

  “You wanted me to listen to it?”

  “I don’t know what I want, Iris. I’m sorry. I’m a mess right now. And the one person I need to talk to about it, won’t let me.”

  Iris stood silently in front of her.

  “He warned me off, you know.”

  “What?”

  “Ryan. He told me to stay away from you, told me I shouldn’t try to take advantage of our friendship, of your good nature. He said that I was in danger of making a fool of myself.”

  “I don’t understand.” Cam drew in a breath.

  “At the dance. At first, I thought maybe he’d seen us and had come over to confront me. But he hadn’t. He just wanted to tell me that I shouldn’t be pining for you.”

  “God, Iris, I am so sorry he did that. I had no idea.” She moved closer to Iris and her heart hurt as Iris reacted by stepping away.

  “Don’t be. You’re engaged to him. He’s right to be possessive. It was just a little embarrassing…whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

  Oliver came past them, nodding a greeting as he headed into the main building. The others would soon follow.

  “We can’t talk here,” Cam said. “If we can’t do lunch, let’s go somewhere after training. Please.”

  Iris shook her head. “Sorry, Cam, I just don’t think that’s a good idea. I actually think we need a bit of distance. We nearly kissed, for God’s sake. You’re engaged, I’m…we’re supposed to be friends.” Iris shook her head, turned and left her alone in the corridor, and Cam had no choice but to let her go.

  * * *

  Ryan wouldn’t expect Cam to be home so soon after training. She considered calling out to him as she heard him drop his keys onto the table in the hallway and his bag on the floor, but something stopped her. He’d been to Frankfurt and got back late last night. They’d barely seen each other since Sunday. He didn’t come into the living room as Cam had expected but instead went straight up the stairs to the bathroom. Cam heard the shower running. She tried to remember how often, when she was home, he showered straight after work. Not often. Her mind was racing. He had been working late a lot recently; he obviously thought Cam was still out or he would have greeted her, but why did he need to shower before she got home?

  Like a burglar in her own house, Cam quietly went up the stairs and looked across the landing to where the bathroom door was slightly ajar. A thought darted in and out of her consciousness. Ryan could be having an affair. He could be washing away the evidence. The notion froze Cam to the spot, and at that moment, Ryan emerged from the bathroom in just a towel, still glistening wet. He started slightly when he saw Cam in the doorway and gave her a broad, open smile.

  “I wasn’t expecting you to be home so early. Did you skip drinks?” He noticed Cam’s expression. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He made a pose like a strongman. “Or is it the sight of my hot sporty physique?” He teased, nodding toward the bag at the foot of the stairs. She could see the handle of a squash racquet poking out of the top. “I played two games and got very sweaty in the process. Thought I’d jump in before you got home and I had to fight you for it.” He kissed her on the cheek before padding down the stairs in his towel.

  “Want some tea?”

  Cam stood and watched him go. His back with its soft dark fuzz, his broad shoulders, and his strong, stocky legs. What did she feel? Not desire. Not even relief that he wasn’t cheating on her. What came up instead was anger, at herself, at him, at Iris. She joined him in the kitchen as he set the kettle to boil.

  “How was training?” Ryan’s tone was light, the question routine. Cam usually answered with a few observations about her game, her fitness, how cruel Megan had been, but the scene earlier with Iris had left her feeling upset and frustrated for reasons she didn’t quite want to face up to. Ryan set two mugs on the counter and began hunting through the fridge, looking for something to eat.

  “I’m starving. You must be too.” He pulled some pastrami and salad vegetables from inside and set to slicing some bread.

  “Do you care?” Cam said it quietly but with enough meaning for Ryan to stop what he was doing and look at her directly.

  “What do you mean, do I care?” He put down the knife. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Do you care how training went? Do you care if I’m starving, or are they just questions you feel obliged to ask me? That’s what I mean.”

  “Cam, what’s up? Why are you being like this? Come on, I don’t want to argue.” He stepped toward her as if to take her into an embrace, but Cam stepped back. The movement seemed to rile Ryan more than her words.

  “I’m tired and I’m not having another stupid argument with you. Maybe you didn’t play well, maybe it’s your time of the month. I don’t care. I can’t face it now. I’m hungry and I’m tired. C’mon, Cam.”

  The “C’mon, Cam” was, she knew, tacked on to make his words sound less harsh. They seemed to get to this place more often lately and more quickly. What usually happened was that one of them backed down, Ryan went off to check his emails or to turn on the TV, Cam went to cook something, and between them they found a way to keep it from escalating.

  “What did you say to Iris?”

  Ryan took his sandwich across the room and sat on the couch. He took a large bite of his sandwich and looked back at her as he chewed.

  “So that’s what’s eating you. Has she been complaining to you about me? Well, you know what, I don’t care. She had it coming. Am I supposed to just sit around and watch her ogle my fiancé? I don’t think so. If she was a guy, I’d probably have punched her by now.”

  Cam couldn’t believe he was being such a jerk. “What did you say to her?” She wanted to hear it from Ryan, to make him say it.

  “Go ask her.” He looked away, reaching across the coffee table f
or the remote control.

  “I would if she was speaking to me, but since she’s not, I can’t. And she’s not speaking to me because of you.” It wasn’t true but she didn’t care.

  Ryan kept eating his sandwich, sitting on the couch in a towel, showing her complete indifference. How had they come to this?

  “Look, if she’s that sensitive about it, it’s probably because I hit a nerve. She’d have brushed it off otherwise.” He shrugged.

  “My friendship with Iris is the only thing I have here and you’ve gone out of your way to ruin it for me. I don’t know why you’d do that to me. It’s almost as if you’re jealous.” He turned to her. There was a flash of annoyance, before he controlled himself.

  “I’m not, trust me. I’m just being protective. Maybe you’d prefer a fiancé who doesn’t give a fig about other people lusting after you, but this one does. She might be your friend but she’s also a lesbian. A lesbian with a reputation for screwing around. And you’re not exactly streetwise…” He stopped himself from saying more. “You should just thank me for saying something, for making sure she’s clear on the rules of engagement.” He paused again. “And while we’re talking about talking,” he sneered slightly as he said the words, “let’s talk about us for a change. Why we haven’t set a date for our wedding, why we don’t have sex anymore, why you seem to prefer spending time with everyone but me. I’m here, Cam, any time you really want to talk. Maybe now that Iris isn’t speaking to you, you might find the time.” He turned back to his sandwich.

  Cam felt her chest tighten and the room close in. She put out a hand to catch the back of one of the dining chairs. This was impossible. Maybe he was right and they needed to talk about those things, but right now she couldn’t see past Iris and her need to somehow make things right between them. She wasn’t sure she had anything left for Ryan, not words and not even feelings.

  She sat down with her laptop at the dining room table and busied herself putting the finishing touches to the article. Later, she would call her sister and try to figure out what the hell she should do.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “Hey, beautiful, something looks good.” Iris pinched a square of feta cheese from the chopping board that Casey was bent over, nodding approvingly at the taste of it. She glanced across at Hazel, who was arranging beers in a large ice-filled bucket.

  “Why is the birthday girl wearing tropical beach shorts? Thirty is a bit early for a midlife crisis isn’t it?”

  “What can I say? She’s in a barbecue mood. She only has to smell the charcoal and those shorts come out. Rain or shine.”

  Hazel walked over and handed Iris a beer. They clinked bottles. “You’re completely overdressed, mate. The invitation clearly said barbecue, and that means beachwear.”

  Iris ran a hand over her shirt and jeans. “I’ve got my bikini on under here. When the time’s right, y’know.” She mimicked the motion of pulling down a giant zipper.

  “Beth is going to love that. Though I kind of promised her a sensitive poet rather than a stripper, but I’m sure she’ll adapt.” Hazel sipped her beer.

  “Oh no, I completely forgot about Beth.” Iris groaned.

  “Hey, you agreed I could invite her. You said it might be time to start dipping your toe back into the lady pool.”

  “I think we all know that I would never say such a thing.”

  “Okay, I might be paraphrasing, but you did say you didn’t mind if I invited her.” She put her hand on Iris’s arm. “She’s a writer. And really cool. You’ll like her.”

  Iris pushed a hand through her hair. She’d completely forgotten she had agreed to meet Beth. She’d said yes just to make Hazel shut up. And because she needed to stop thinking about Cam, to stop missing her.

  “You sold me to Beth as a poet? Nice one, Haze. No pressure there. Maybe once she sees I am completely without any kind of banter, she’ll just think it’s a sign of my moody creative genius.”

  “You can manage without us for a bit can’t you, love?” Hazel took Iris by the arm as she addressed Casey.

  The lounge had already been readied for the party. The armchairs and couches pushed against the walls, the long dining table covered in rows of glasses, bottles of wine, and plates of nibbles. Hazel sat on the long leather couch and invited Iris to sit with her.

  “Aren’t we supposed to be doing helping stuff?”

  “We will. I just wanted this beer before we got started on the chores.” Hazel sounded a little shifty and Iris spotted it straight away.

  “What’s going on?”

  “C’mon, Iris, you know we need to talk. You need to talk. About Cam. What the hell is going on with you two lately? The atmosphere at work sucks. Everyone’s noticed.”

  Iris needed to talk to someone; she just wasn’t sure it was Hazel. But she probably wasn’t going to survive another evening with Cam and Ryan if she didn’t speak to someone. She sighed and put down her beer in the space between her feet, leaning forward so that her elbows were resting on her knees and she didn’t have to face Hazel.

  “I don’t know where to start and I know you’re going to tell me I’m an idiot. You were right, okay? I denied it, but I wasn’t being honest. I do have feelings for her. I know I should have kept my distance and cooled it down once I knew I had feelings for her, but I didn’t. I tried, well, I kind of tried, but I couldn’t stay away, and she wouldn’t let me.” She turned to Hazel.

  “In the beginning, it was just attraction. I mean, you’ve seen her, she’s beautiful.”

  Hazel nodded.

  “But then I got to know her and we got close and, well, she’s just great and my feelings got stronger, they changed and now I’ve—” She stopped herself from saying it, not able to face up to having fallen for Cam. “I’ve gotten too close and I’ve made a fool of myself and I’m hurting. I thought—” Her voice cracked. “I thought it was all me, that I was wanting things to be there that weren’t, that I had to be careful with her in case I did something I shouldn’t. And then, at the dance—”

  She stopped. The memory of it even now, days later, causing her to flush, making the muscles in her stomach tighten.

  “At the dance, we almost kissed. We were dancing, and she touched me, she almost kissed me.”

  Hazel swore under her breath.

  “And it’s ruined everything between us. It’s not just that it’s wrong and I shouldn’t want it—it’s that, despite that, I wanted it to mean something to her. But it didn’t. She was drunk and she was bored and she was playing with me. I hate to say it, but maybe you were right about her.”

  Hazel put her arm around Iris’s shoulders. “I guessed it must have been something like that, but I’m sorry, I didn’t really want to be right, mate.”

  “Yeah, you did.” Iris nudged Hazel, trying to lighten the mood. It was more than she could manage.

  “And the worst of it is that he knows, Ryan knows. Not what happened, thank God, but he’s guessed that I have feelings for her. I think Jess said something to him about me and Cam a while back, and he made sure to warn me off at the dance. He told me I was embarrassing myself by pining for her.” She couldn’t help a small sob escaping, she felt so miserable. “It was so humiliating, Haze. All I could do was deny it. What could I have said? She’s the one who had her hands all over me on the dance floor. I couldn’t do that to her. I didn’t say anything. I told him he was wrong and then sat and watched him put his hands all over her for my benefit until I went home understanding just how much of an idiot I’ve been.”

  “Have you talked to her about it at all?”

  “No, I’ve been avoiding her. She wants to, but what’s the point. She left me a voice mail the night of the dance but then texted and asked me to delete it without listening.”

  “And you did?”

  “I did.”

  “So you don’t know what she said.”

  “I don’t, but I do know that when Jess asked her about the evening, she made a point of telling everyon
e that she’d drunk too much and regretted making a fool of herself. I was standing right there so her message was pretty clear.”

  “If she just called to say she’d made a drunken mistake why would she tell you to delete it?” Casey spoke up from the doorway.

  “That’s what I thought at first, but then I figured that maybe she hadn’t said it in a very nice way and she didn’t want to be rude.”

  “Yeah, exactly.” Hazel shot a warning look at Casey.

  “And you really haven’t talked about it since?” Casey asked.

  “She tried to get me to go to lunch with her, said she wanted to explain. I just said I was busy. I’ve avoided the pub so I don’t have to see her. I can’t be around her right now. I don’t want her to apologize and tell me we can only be friends, and she shouldn’t have let things get out of hand. I know it’s true, but I can’t bear to hear her say it. And, anyway, I can’t just go back to being her friend, not feeling like this.” Her voice caught with the effort of keeping her feelings damped down.

  “And, yeah, I know she’s coming tonight with him, and I’m going to have to watch them be together. I mean, I don’t even know whether she’s told him. I don’t really know how I’m going to cope.”

  “You’ll cope by being polite but mostly ignoring them, having a few more beers and letting Beth—an actual available woman with zero baggage—charm you for an evening. And we’ll be here. If she says anything, if he dares to say anything, I’ll throw them both out. I don’t care how good she is at football.” Hazel was emphatic.

  Casey shook her head at Hazel. She crossed to the couch and ruffled Iris’s hair. “And if a forced blind date with Beth is a little much for you to take on right now,” Casey said with a pointed look in Hazel’s direction, “you can hide in the kitchen with me, honey. There’ll be food, my delightful company, and lots of washing up to do…and I probably should have said this earlier, but Cam texted last night to say that Ryan isn’t coming. I didn’t think to mention it till now, sorry.”