Page 53 of Merry & Bright
“Yeah—well, it’s the only day of the year Mum cooksnormalfood so you’ve got to make the most of it.”
They shared a rueful chuckle. When the McMorrow siblings were kids, they used to beg their mother for the ‘normal’ food—fish fingers and chips and sausages—that their friends ate, instead of her home-cooked Italian dishes. And she never let them forget it.
“And after dinner,” Eilidh continued gently, “you’ll talk to Mum and Dad—yes?”
Cam sighed heavily. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll talk to them.”
Chapter Four
Cameron—Cam—McMorrow was having a big, serious conversation with his sister.
Rob glanced over at their table a few times as he waited for Val to complete the food order and he got the coffees sorted. He couldn’t see Cam’s face at all, but the girl’s expression looked sad, then concerned, and she kept putting her hand over his. Cam’s shoulders were hunched over. He looked...defeated. It was a picture that didn’t fit with the idea Rob had of Cam, and for some reason, he found that bothered him.
Before today, Rob would have said that Cam was super-confident, bordering on arrogant. The type of man who unapologetically went after what he wanted. There was a directness to him that Rob had liked when they first met—at least till the day Pete Bruce from the Council had gone down to the boatshed to serve a formal warning on him. On that day, Cam’s directness had brought him barrelling into the café in such a temper that he’d walked right past the counter to confront Rob, muscling into Rob’s personal space without so much as a by-your-leave. That was probably why Rob—who was normally so laid back—had lost his own temper. He probably wouldn’t have stuck up for what Val had done otherwise. As it was, he’d been so pissed off, he hadn’t even denied Cam’s accusation that it was he, Rob, who’d made the complaint.
It was weird to see the man looking so different today. Rob glanced over again—Cam was scrubbing his hands over his face while his sister spoke, her expression earnest and intent. Rob felt the oddest pang in his gut. Somehow seeing Cam so stressed and tired-looking was making Rob feel unsettled.
He was glad of the distraction of the kitchen bell, announcing the food order was ready. The plates were already waiting when he went to the hatch and Val was on the other side of the kitchen, her back to him as she stacked the dishwasher, a job she usually moaned about. She was staying right out of Cam McMorrow’s way then.
Without a word, Rob grabbed the plates and closed the hatch, then loaded everything onto a tray and made his way over to Cam’s table.
Eilidh spotted him before he reached them—she did that thing people do when a waiter approaches, drawing a social veil across her face, her expression becoming both more cheerful and more distant at once.
“Here we go,” Rob said, lowering the tray.
Cam had been leaning his elbows on the table but now he moved back, sweeping aside the shreds of a napkin he’d been mangling.
Rob felt absurdly aware of the man’s eyes on him as he doled out the plates and cups. It was ridiculous to feel self-conscious at such scrutiny, but he did. Finally, though, everything was unloaded and he straightened, tucking the tray under his arm. “Enjoy your lunch,” he said, intending to make a swift exit, but just as he was about to turn away, a flash of hot pink and turquoise on the table snagged his gaze, the swirling, golden “G” icon in the middle of the glossy card immediately familiar.
“Oh, Gomorrah!” he exclaimed. “God, I haven’t been there in years. Are you going to the Hogmanay party?”
He glanced at Cam, his smile fading a little when he spotted the man’s wary expression and it dawned on him that this might be confirmation of something he’d wondered about more than once back when they were still talking—whether Cam was gay.
Whether Rob had imagined those occasional, slightly lingering looks ...
After what felt like a very long moment, Cam finally spoke. “Yeah—I’m looking forward to it. I used to go to Gomorrah practically every weekend—it’ll be good to catch up with my old crowd.”