By day three Cameron had successfully avoided any further contact with Philip, much to everyone’s dismay, including her mother.  The good French lady, though meaning well, badgered her daughter to tears about Philip, explaining it was her duty to know the details of her only child’s “relationships”.  Esmée Blanche Austin could be summed up in many words but the one phrase that encompassed her fully was lover of love.  She wanted everyone to find love and made it her business to aid when she deemed it necessary.  And now was her time to assist Cameron in her love woes, for she had known and proclaimed for years that Philip held Cameron’s heart and her daughter held his. 

“It’s inevitable that you two will marry and have beaux bébés pour moi de l’amour,” she would announce with such excitement and intensity, her heavy voice floating through the air for all to hear.  It was embarrassing but Cameron always felt there was some truth to her mother’s words.  At least she’d hoped there was.

Her mother was a rebel in her day and probably still so to some today; a white woman who dared anyone to say anything about her matrimony to the bright, young and black Baptist minister, Reverend Ronald L. Austin.  It was the late seventies when the two married and interracial couples, though more prevalent, was still quite the faux pas.

“Mon petit,” Esmée sweetly lulled as she slid herself into the chair in front of her daughter, her long black hair stacked on top of her head in a tight bun, a stark contrast to her milky complexion.  Though Cameron was several shades darker than her mother, they shared many of the same physical features.  She had her mother’s eyes and was blessed with her thin French body type, while her nose was a combination of both her parents.   

Cameron looked under eyed after Esmée’s sweet greeting, anticipating the questions she surely knew were on the brink of spilling out of her mother’s mouth. 

“Yes mom,” Cameron said before stuffing a spoonful of the soufflé into her mouth, closing her eyes as she savored her mother’s famous concoction. 

“Have you spoken with Philip since you ran into him at the airport?” 

“Non,” she replied in French, refusing to give her mother eye contact, keeping them closed tight as she continued to indulge in the hot, delicious meal. 

“I spoke with Nadine yesterday at the Thompson’s Farm and she mentioned that Philip, in passing of course, told her how anxious he was to speak with you.” 

Cameron shook her head, slightly rolled her eyes and smirked.  “Really?” 

“Oui, petite fille,” her mother replied, eyeing her for the disrespecting tone. A brief moment passed between mother and daughter as they engaged in eating their breakfast, both possibly thinking the same thing.  What happened that drew her and Philip apart? 

“Cameron,” her mother interrupted the silence.  “Il n'y a qu'un bonheur dans la vie, c'est d'aimer et d'être aimé.” 

“Mom,” Cameron began, placing her spoon down on the fancy napkins her mother insisted on using for every meal. 

“I get that.  I want to love and be loved but you weren’t there and you don’t know what happened.  And I’m thirty-two years old and fully capable of handling my relationships.” 

“Are you,” she fired back at her daughter, resting her chin on interlocked fingers as she braced her elbows on the table.  “And even so, don’t you think you can forgive and forget? C'est dans le passé. Qu'est-ce qui est fait est fait. ” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Cameron took another long pause of contemplation before opting to just give her mom the answer she wanted to hear.  Ear service was always the key to getting past her mother’s bombardment of questions. 

“Just speak with him mon petit.” Esmée reached across the table and placed a loving and soft hand over her daughter’s. 

“I’ll have to cross that bridge sooner than later, so you shall get your wish.”  Cameron rose up from her chair, walked over to her mother and kissed her on the forehead.  “T’aime maman.” 

“I love you too petit bébé.” 

Hurrying upstairs to her old bedroom, which was now a guest bedroom that was attacked by pale purple and pink toile, Cameron rushed through in a fury as she was running extremely late and did not want to be on the receiving end of Nina’s wrath. Cameron immediately searched for something comfortable yet cute, as she was summoned to be Nina’s slave for the day.  They had a lot to do in a very short amount of time.  

Just as she pulled on one of her pink and black plaid Converse her cell phone went off.  She shuffled to the nightstand and answered promptly, her tardiness excuse ready and on hand. 

“Sorry Nina.  I’m about to hit the door.  I had an encounter with my mom and she made beignets and you know I can’t resist a beignet.” 

“Oh, that’s alright.  I was calling to see if you wanted an iced coffee or tea?” 

“You’re not mad that I’m,” Cameron looked down and scanned her watch.  “Thirty minutes late?” 

“No.  Just get here when you can.” 

“What’s up,” Cameron asked taking a seat on the edge of the bed.  “You were threatening me last night if I was a minute late and now you’re all zen and at peace and extremely calm like Gandhi.” 

“Don’t be mad,” Nina tossed in quickly.  “But I’ve invited Erin Collins to help with the centerpieces.  I hope that’s okay? She asked if there was anything she could help me with about a week ago and I really could use the help and she’s not as bad as she used to be Cameron.  Besides that was a million years ago and people can change contrary to what you believe.  I mean just because you’re the same ole’ perfect and moral person you’ve been since kindergarten doesn’t mean that others remain the same.” 

Nina managed to get all of that out in one breath before inhaling deeply while silence loomed on the other end of the line. 

“Hello,” Nina asked finally.

“Just making sure you’re done with the Cameron bash.  Thought you might have wanted to add, in detail, how prudish and prideful I can be.” 

“Cameron,” Nina added.  “I’m sorry but I know ho-” 

“It’s fine.  I’ll be there shortly,” Cameron interjected.  “And I’d like an iced latte if and only if that’s not asking too much or in any way makes me judgmental.” 

She hung up the phone and rolled her eyes before placing her other Converse on her foot.  She grabbed her purse and headed out of the door, thinking about what Nina had said. 

“You’re okay with Erin Collins, Cameron,” she spoke aloud to herself once safely inside her rental car.  “Remember you forgave her a long time ago.  It’s time to forget the past and move forward.”  The real question was did Cameron actually believe the words she just spoke aloud?  Had she gotten over what happened? Maybe, but had she forgotten? Absolutely not.  She wouldn’t allow herself to.  In fact it was downright impossible for her to forget.  Unlike her mother, who could always toss her ego and pride aside, Cameron wasn’t the most compassionate person around.  She just found it difficult to let go of situations or people who maliciously hurt her and the truth was Erin, to some degree, fell into that category.  Maybe this could create an opportunity for her wounds to heal.  To see the new and improved Erin, Nina spoke of just minutes before.  Cameron inhaled deeply and started her car.  “Qu'est-ce qui est fait est fait.” 

Erin – Fall 1997 

Worse than packing, leaving behind friends or even travelling, Erin hated being the new girl at school.  This would be the fifth time she’s had to do this and most would think by the fifth time she would have this “new girl” gig down to a science but not so much.  She was socially awkward at best.  The girls usually hated her upon first look or befriended her to make sure she wasn’t a threat to their relationships.  And the guys... the guys were intrigued by the mystery of the nomad girl, trying their best to find a way to get her in their beds.  One time she actually went for it, thinking she’d have nothing to lose until it was all over and she’d been coined “seven-eleven”.  She’d vowed never to do that again and hadn’t. 

She had been told that she was pretty, though she didn’t know if she fully believed it.  Who would want the girl who came from the unstable family? They never stayed in a place longer than a year or two it seemed.  Her mother would try to keep her spirits up by explaining that she could start all over again with a clean slate and could be anything she wanted to be.  The first two times she’d believed her and tried her best to take her mother’s advice but after having to move again and again, the notion struck her as ludicrous at best and definitely a waste of her time. 

It was lunch time on her first day at Meyers High, always the worst day for any new girl.  She scanned the room for familiar faces but found none, at least none that would give her direct eye contact, so she found a table that was empty on one end and sat alone, beginning to nibble on an egg salad sandwich.  Just as she struggled to open her chocolate milk carton, a shadow hovered over her.  She slowly looked up to find a friendly smile staring down at her.  It was the girl that sat next to her in journalism.  Cameron, she thought her name was. 

“Mind if I sit down,” Cameron asked genuinely awaiting an honest answer from Erin based on her tone and facial expression. 

“Um,” Erin fumbled her words, in shock that the girl wanted to sit with her.  “Uh, sure.  Why not?” 

Cameron giggled.  “Have you done this before?” 

“You mean being new,” Erin asked. 

“Yes.” 

“This would be my fifth time playing ‘new girl’,” Erin responded, picking over her vegetables. 

“Well, welcome,” Cameron replied with her hand extended to the girl. 

“Thanks,” Erin replied, accepting Cameron’s hand. 

“So,” Cameron began.  “Where are you from?” 

Erin stared at Cameron a moment, not really making eye contact but processing the question.  “Everywhere.” 

“Ha.  Well that must be nice.  I’ve only visited a few places but I’ve been here all of my life.  I can’t wait till graduation.  I love Louisiana but I need to experience some other place, ya know?” 

“Ya know, what,” a guy’s voice interjected.  A tall, athletic and quite cute guy straddled the seat next to Cameron and took a grape off of her tray, tossed it in the air and caught it in his mouth.  He chewed quickly, swallowed and smiled, turning his attention to Erin.   

“Erin,” Cameron began with a roll of her eyes.  “This is Philip.  Philip, Erin.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Philip, said extending his hand to hers. 

“You too,” she answered, hoping she wasn't blushing at his touch. 

“I thought you guys had to run during lunch,” Cameron asked Philip, removing a leaf from his hair. 

“I decided to ditch.  I’m tired of three a day practices.” 

“Coach Weiss is going to murder you, you know.” 

“Well, so be it.”  Philip gave a maniacal smirk.  “Just make sure my eulogy is good and that my mom puts the gray suit on me.” 

“Don’t talk like that,” Cameron said with a wrinkle of her nose. 

“Well, I’d better go.  Gotta hide the rest of the day from coach.  See ya after school for math tutoring, right?” 

“You know I’ll be there but will you?” 

“Always patiently waiting on me,” Philip said standing to his feet.  He turned quickly to Erin and nodded, “Nice meetin’ ya.” 

“You too,” Erin replied with a small smile. Philip skipped out of the cafeteria towards the courtyard and disappeared out of the door.  What a cutie Erin thought, immediately wondering if he had a girlfriend or if Cameron was his girlfriend. 

“So,” Erin asked casually.  “How long have you two been dating?” 

Cameron laughed.  “Funny you should ask.  We’re not dating.  Philip and I are best friends.  We’ve been best buds since about first grade.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.  You’re not the first to ask that question and probably not the last.  Most people find it hard to believe that a guy and a girl can be just friends but Philip and I are good at it.  It just works out that way.” 

“So,” Erin began to pry a little more.  “Do you have a boyfriend?” 

“Currently... no.” 

“What about Philip?” 

Cameron looked a little uneasy as the question escaped Erin’s mouth but began to answer it despite the discomfort it caused. 

“Well he doesn’t have a boyfriend," she joked, "but he’s been hanging out with a girl named Joyce.  She’s on the tennis team with me.  I played doubles with her last year.  Nice girl.” 

“Oh,” Erin replied, taking another bite of her sandwich.  Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad at all.  Cameron seemed really nice and maybe she would take Erin in and show her all that Meyer’s High School had to offer.  And perhaps she could even get a chance to get to know Philip too. 

Nina – Summer 2011 

Knots began to form in the pit of Nina’s stomach as soon as she saw Erin pull her SUV into the driveway of her house.  She quickly swept the sheers back in place and scrambled around the den arranging her craft boxes on the coffee table.  Greg made his way downstairs just as the doorbell rang.   

“Is that Cameron,” Greg asked making his way to the door.  “She’s late, huh? That’s not like her.” 

Nina rushed towards the door a bit fidgety and suddenly turned around, her back leaning against the front door. 

“No,” she replied.  “It’s Erin.” 

“Erin? As in Erin Collins.  AKA Cameron’s arch-enemy.  AKA her kryptonite.  AKA her wo-“ 

“Would you please stop,” Nina said in a hushed, yet firm tone. 

“Are they both going to be here in the same room at the same time?” 

“Yes,” Nina answered. 

“Are you breaking up with me?” 

“What? No! Why would you say something like that?” 

“Because it’s like you’re on a suicide mission by having those two together in the same room.” 

“No it’s not.  That was fifteen years ago.  We’re all over what happened.  I even forgave Erin for sleeping with my ex-husband while we were still married.” 

“Which is something I truly love about you Nina but I think you also forgot one minor yet, how do I say this, imperative detail.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Philip and Max are coming over today to play the new video game I’ve been working on, while you and Cameron did wedding stuff, remember?” 

Nina began to breathe heavily as the doorbell rang once more.  What was she thinking? She wasn’t thinking that was the problem.  How was this going to work out? 

“Okay, okay.  We got this baby,” Nina said to Greg, stepping away from the door. 

“You must keep the guys occupied and out of this part of the house until four o’clock this evening, alright.  If you need something, call me on my cell phone but not too often and I’ll bring it down to the basement.” 

“I think I can do that.  So basically act like we’re not here for six hours.” 

“Right,” Nina answered. The doorbell rang again and then the knob began to turn. 

It was Cameron and Erin standing next to each other as Cameron swung the door open.  “What took you so long to answer the door? It’s hot out here,” Cameron complained as she made her way over the threshold. 

“Cam,” Greg called out embracing his friend.  “It’s so good to see you.” 

“You too Gregory,” she replied.  “You hangin’ out with the girls today or do you have plans helping Soo Jin at the nail salon?” 

“Really Nina,” Greg exclaimed. “Are you really still telling people that I help her at the nail shop?” Greg turned to Cameron and Erin.  “You’ll have to excuse my fiancée.  She confuses doing graphic and marketing stuff with applying fake acrylic nails.” 

Greg turned to Nina and gave her a peck on the cheek.  “Stop telling everyone I do nails, okay.” 

“Okay,” Nina said with a roll of her eyes.   

Greg left the girls to their crafts and they all took their seats and began unloading the boxes of tulle and glass vases.  This wouldn’t be too bad, Nina hoped.  So far there hadn’t been any eye rolling, ignoring or indirect comments made so she thought she was in the clear.  That was until... 

“So Cameron,” Erin began.  “I ran into Philip at the grocery store with his brother yesterday.  He looked great.  Gorgeous as usual.  He said you two hadn’t really talked yet.” 

And that’s when the room went completely silent and Nina began to pray nothing came of the apparent jab Erin decided to take at Cameron.