Tea - Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Miles found it hard to believe that the weekend he was currently intimate with brought the world into the third week of March. In most ways he felt as though he had just arrived on the east coast. This made sense, since it was mostly the truth. But even that half of his feeling was jet-lagged because it only seemed like he had been at Camp Ontanogan for a handful of days. The other side of his view was that he had been at the camp forever, would always be there, because that was how things were.

The date meant that they were at about the halfway point. April was definitely where the downhill roll would gain momentum, as summer camp began in the middle of June and as it stood none of the current program staff was planning on staying for that kind of chaos and stringent authority. It saddened Miles in a way. He had started to get into a flow, a far-reaching circadian rhythm, of motions at the camp. In the short time he had spent on that side of the continent he had met friends, saved a few coins, and happened upon a lover. It was the most excitement he had seen in a while as far as social capitol was concerned.

It was as if the group he was with had been lifted up, spared the real world, for a short amount of time and been given an opportunity to live a life of leisure. Miles could see why the Greeks had lauded that aspect of culture so much in ancient times. He could also see how some people could become addicted to it. There were no such cases among them but every now and then staff alumni would drop by and tour the state of things at Ontanogan. Most of those folks were still working in the same field at places around the country and seemed perfectly happy to continue doing so. In truth Miles felt a bit of that invisible drug seeping into his skin. He couldn’t say whether the dealer dwelt in the air, the water, or the sounds of people enjoying themselves that surrounded him every day, but as many times as he basked under the influence the potential permanence of the buzz frightened him back into reality.

He was going to graduate school in August. He had gotten accepted right before he moved to New Hampshire from Chicago with one small catch: his assistantship had been hinted at but not finalized. As always, the issue was a budget. The professors were waiting as hungrily as their potential slaves were for word of whether or how many assistants the department would have. Miles had been guaranteed a spot, if there was one available. This may have been partially due to the fact that he had made it known to those concerned at the university that receiving an assistantship was the only way he would be able to attend school again. Miles was neither a trust fund kid nor had he been foolish enough to join the military and because of those knots in the rope he was the proud owner of a twenty-thousand dollar bachelor’s degree that he had only made two minimum payments on.

He was going to graduate school in August. He had come into his current situation with a plan. Come to think of it, he had come into his current situation with the light-hearted idea of not having the pressure of worrying about whether he should be trying to find a girl because a camp was supposed to be innocent and impotent. That notion had exploded into spectacular fireworks which were steadily blinding him.

What would happen? Miles did not know. He pushed the thought out of his head for a moment while he divided arrows between archery stations in Davis Lodge. Miles slid five arrows into four different milk crates which had been turned on their bottoms before leading a string in front of them all to mark the danger zone.

He could not keep the demons at bay for long, however. It did not help that no one was interested in his station at the start of the day. The most unyielding fact was that he and Sophie had to stay together. The kind of long distance that would happen across continents was dizzying to think about and never ended well on any path Miles walked it. Ending it was…well, sometimes he wished their relationship was more casual, as casualness would have made a clean break an option. That was not the case.

He was fairly certain that a person had to get married to get a green card; that was how it always happened in the movies anyways. They had talked about that kind of permanence in a code of sorts but Miles was still wary. Again, those kind of romances only happened in the movies. He knew he could get a visa to England for three months to ‘travel’, or up to a year if he had a job waiting for him, but he was going to graduate school in August…

“You look distraught, love. What’s wrong?” Sophie knew Miles’ moods no matter how well he tried to mask them, in only ten weeks of knowing him.

“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it right now, really.” A butterfly of fear fluttered through Sophie’s eyes and was almost gone before Miles caught it. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll talk tonight.” Miles squeezed her hand. Sophie could tell by Miles’ demeanor that his mood had something to do with her but not about her. The revelation gave her enough consolation to silently grace his cheek with the butterfly resting on her lips.

Lunch had done nothing to help Miles’ predicament. The way Sophie had reacted to his tone as though she had known exactly…He hated that he had scared her, if only for a second. Sophie was the most perfect thing he had ever found and he wanted to keep her that way. He realized the power in the ability to make her feel that way and realized what a monster he felt like for making her feel that way, unintentionally or not. It was unnerving to think that any of his decisions would have to be reached with someone else. Miles had been so used to being his own person for so long that he didn’t know if he knew how to share decisions.

Life on the ice rink was a little more active than the morning had been for Miles. He played a game of broom ball, which amounted to hockey played with brooms and a grapefruit-sized dodge-ball, with a group of five kids that needed even teams. When a dad came down to check on his successor Miles stepped out and let him go a round.

The weather was warming in at least leaps, if not bounds as well, by that March. The ice was slushier than it had been and the stamina it took to sit outside for two hours in a cheap plastic chair making sure everyone was wearing cheap plastic helmets had lessened.

The crowd in arts and crafts, Miles’ second station after lunch, was thinner than times past. The lack of queuing seemed to reinforce the warming weather and people’s desire to have their weekend of outdoor recreation outdoors.

Regardless of subtle shifts in the air Miles put a fair number of shrinky-dinks and sculpy creations into the sickly toaster oven behind the arts and crafts counter where he sat in yet another cheap plastic deck chair that was probably the standard white hue before some creative soul had thrown paint brushes at it from across the room hundreds of weekend family camp groups before.

Miles liked the arts and crafts room for some reason. He wasn’t anything close to an artistic person by nature, but in a place where faces and moods and scenes changed weekend to weekend, a bit of history was nice. The walls were painted by “Arts and Crafts Specialty Track 199-“ and “Girl Scout Troop #-“, so on and so forth. There were pictures of every Arts and Crafts Summer Specialist going back to the eighties on one wall. Miles had been surprised when he had first noticed the current full-time Team -Building Director at the office had her picture on that wall in the 1989 position.

However enjoyable the last station of the day was, it was still the last and therefore always seemed to drag on much longer than any other part of the day. Miles tried to keep himself amused by finally learning how to make boondoggles, the most popular craft of any camp anywhere as far as he had heard, but at the end of the day he was no closer to having any idea how to begin the process of creating annoyingly bright key chains than when his shift had started.

Miles hoofed it back to the dining hall where he knew he would still have to wait as long as anyone else for dinner. He told himself to act like his usual cheery self to assure Sophie that other than his own over-analyzing everything was fine.

He met Sophie at the staff table with their customary secret smile to which he added an unabashed peck on the cheek.

“Well,” Sophie said, surprised by the public and technically illegal display of affection, “You seem a bit more chipper than this afternoon.”

“Forgive me. I love you, sweetheart.”

“Miles! In the middle of a crowded room of guests! Are you having a mid-life crisis?” He laughed.

“I hope not. I wouldn’t make it to fifty at that rate.”

“Well, sit down before you make a scene.” She led him to the bench and they sat. With more subtlety than Miles had exercised, Sophie leaned against his shoulder and whispered, “I love you too, Miles.” She squeezed his hand under the table and nothing more was said about affections for the rest of the meal.

“You’re on what tonight?” Miles asked as they cleared the table.

“Just dishes.”

“Mm. I’m on snack. I’ll do dishes with you if you hang out on snack with me and Jabari.”

She smiled. “Ok. Something is up, isn’t it?”

“Now why would you…?” She continued grinning with the realization that Miles would not be bowled over so easily.

“Come on. You’re rinse bitch.” Miles rolled his eyes. The prime position in the dish room was at the end of the washer where the racks of clean dished were pushed. You waited, rounded them up, and stacked them onto carts and crates where they were rolled out at the next meal. That person rarely even got wet. The person putting dirty dishes into the front end of the machine was the next level down on the totem poll. They had to endure the hot sprays of steam and the occasionally poorly rinsed rack of plates. The rinse bitch was the bottom rung. That poor bastard had to take in all the dirty dishes (anything involving syrup at breakfast was the worst) and pre-rinse them before they went through the machine. Ketchup, tartar sauce, half-gnawed chicken bones, gravy…whatever was served at that meal ended up on the rinse bitch’s shirt (and sometimes in their ears or noses or mouths, depending on how well they aimed the fire-hose strength sprayer).

Miles accepted his role after uttering a silent prayer that the geriatric radio wasn’t comatose that evening and followed Sophie into the unintentional sauna.

Miles saw the reason for Sophie’s bargain fiddling with the radio. Paul was trying futilely to find something to listen to besides the one station that came in but only played heavy metal or Howard Stern, neither of which was very appropriate to be blaring at a steady stream of grade-schoolers bringing trays of used dishes to the receiving window of the dish room.

A country station almost made it but couldn’t quite find its way through the blizzard of static storming inside the boom box. Miles did not consider that a great lost but instead pondered the fact that any one of them could purchase a new radio for fewer than ten bucks. Hell, they could all pitch in on it. Why no one had ever mentioned or thought of the idea before made Miles shake his head as he took up his position at the window. He had made use of one of the cheap cotton aprons that were available to shield one’s clothes from splatters and crumbs. Miles usually never bothered since they usually wore staff shirts to do the dishes but he had to serve a snack immediately following his new chore and did not think it would look to appetizing to the guests if he were decorated in ketchup and chocolate pudding.

By that point in time everyone on the staff had done dishes more often than they would care to recount so it always flowed as nicely as it could. Paul did not ask why there was an extra person in the room because he could no doubt see that things were going faster with the extra help.

They were almost done when Jabari poked his head in the door of the dish room. “What the hell are you doing in here, man? We’re supposed to be baking breadsticks.”

“Just helping Sophie out. She’s going to do snack with us.”

“For real?”

“Yeah, man. Actually, if you want to get some of those things baking you could get out of here if you want. Sophie and I can handle it. Unless you need the hours.”

“Thanks, man, but I do. I just got that NCAA 2000. I need to make up for it.” He disappeared to heat marinara sauce and put the frozen snacks in the oven.

Ten minutes later they were hosing down the floor and draining the dishwasher to conclude another trio of hot squares at Camp Ontanogan. Paul was finished for the night so with a hasty farewell he loped out into the night toward staff row leaving Jabari, Miles and Sophie in the kitchen to run the snack station.

“What was the activity tonight?” Jabari asked.

“Campfire in the archery building. Emma and Gerry are running it.” Sophie answered.

“Shit. That girl can stretch a campfire all night,” Jabari groaned.

“Not with Emma there. She won’t stand for it.”

“Well, that’s something.”

Fortunately for the trio the radio in the kitchen that the full-time cook staff used did work as a normal radio should and Miles soon found a Top Forty station that would not pollute their camper’s ears. Jabari moved the first pan of breadsticks from the oven. Half of the stock was immediately liquidated by the three of them along with a fair amount of marinara sauce.

“Man, why are these things plain?” Jabari looked around and found an industrial plastic bottle of garlic powder. Miles followed his lead and commandeered a tub of butter from the fridge and grabbed a brush from the racks of utensils above the counters. They souped up the next batch that went in and were quite proud of their creativity. By the time the first trickle of people found the dining hall the place smelled like a regular Italian restaurant.

Serving snack was one of the easiest ways to bank hours. The only drawback was that it was the last activity of the night and lasted until about ten at night. Other than that little drawback it was merely a matter of watching people help themselves and refilling whatever was running low.

Emma and Gerry walked behind the counter to where Jabari, Miles, and Sophie were serving and made themselves plates. They made small talk as well about how their activities went; by then the banter was the equivalent of asking someone how things were. They stayed until everyone was served. Once everyone went through the line the dishes were tossed in the dish room, any food wrapped up for the staff lounge since it couldn’t be reserved, and the kitchen doors locked. The guests could stay in the dining hall until kingdom come for all it mattered, the staff were only supposed to ask that the last ones out shut off the lights since the room was left open continuously for access to coffee, tea, and hot chocolate between meals and for night owls and early risers.

“So are you going to tell me what you were pouting over at lunch or am I going to have to guess?” Sophie asked as they walked home in the dark.

“Oh, you know. Just thinking about the future.”

“Come on, now, that won’t do you any good.” She twirled in front of Miles’ track. “You…” she continued, brushing her index finger across his lips…”And I…” she put the same fingers across her own, “Are going to be together. We decided that however that happens will be the way it is. We decided, remember?”

“I know, but-“

“No buts! You’re not allowed ‘buts’. You banned my ‘buts’, so I’m banning yours. It’s only fair.” She concluded her proclamation with a flourishing kiss and spun back to his side. She wrapped both of her arms around his left and kissed his shoulder to drive the point home. “Unless you’ve decided on something contrary to our decision…”

“No, no.”

“Don’t worry, then. And if you insist on talking about it, I’m going to have to use my powers of seduction.”

“I thought you were trying to discourage me from talking.”

“Either way I don’t think you’ll be doing much of it.”

“You think pretty highly of yourself.”

“It’s got to be hard to talk when-“ Sophie whirled in front of him again and grabbed Mile’s jacket at the biceps. She kissed him again, forcefully at first, and then let her tongue mingle with his for a long moment. “-I do that.”

“Why yes. Actually, it is hard.” After a flash of a quizzical look Sophie felt what he was insinuating.

“Oh my gosh. I didn’t even do anything!” She cried. Her shock was betrayed by a devilish grin.

“Anticipation is a hell of a catalyst.”

“Well. I’ll have to make sure never to do it again, I guess.”

“You’re insatiable.”

“Me? You!”

Their conversation had carried them to Miles’ cabin before they realized it.

“Listen, darling.” Sophie stopped Miles before he opened the door. “I don’t mean to brush off your worry, but a while ago you talked me out of what would have really been a terrible decision by telling me to live for our moments together. I took that to heart. What’s more, I realized that you were actually right.” She smiled at what could have been a clever jab had she not been serious. “You need to heed your own advice because I’m starting to like having moments with you.” She smiled and kissed him warmly. “And if we have enough of them it might get us through some of the crazy times ahead of us. Now get in there. You know I wouldn’t want to be labeled a tease.”

The thing the movies never show as they fade into a night of passionate and ambiently lit sex is how spent the lovers are in the morning from expressing their desires. Miles did not need a television to know how that felt as he shuffled into the dining hall on Sunday morning. He did not feel sorry for himself when he thought about what caused his fatigue. He felt sorry for everyone at the table that was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Miles smiled at his joke and yawned. It was Sunday. Sundays did not matter. The parents and their kids already thought the staff were great by that point and some of them even gave a little wink if they saw anyone looking like they had spent the night living like there was no tomorrow. Thank you, James Dean. The whole Sunday morning scene made Miles happier than he was on the other two days of a family camp weekend.

Until he got to the eggs. They were always there, always exactly the same. As a kid he had loved those eggs. They were always so perfect, never burned or pale, always straight out of a commercial and there to greet him at every buffet he had ever graced. However, living at a camp Miles was privy to certain information. The magic of perfect scrambled eggs was lost once he had discovered they came out of the same kind of cartons his milk was poured from. Miles lamented his lost innocence as he nonetheless flipped a scoop of eggs on his plate, which doubled as body armor for the U.S. military, at least in his imagination. He added some more Tyco food and returned to the staff table.

“You know what, Sunshine?”

“Hmm, babe?” Miles smiled. Sophie was mushy for a good day or so if she was exhausted from love. She was looking straight ahead though not focusing on anything. His empty fork was held in the air ready to joust any other bit of cutlery that dare intrude on its territory.

“We haven’t thought of anything to do this weekend.”

“Oh, we haven’t. Well, it’s not a payday this weekend.”

“Yeah. And truthfully I haven’t socked away as much money as I had hoped over the last few months.”

“Are you implying something?” Miles chuckled. He had never spent more time talking in innuendos and subtleties in his life. He loved it.

“Only that it’s been worth every penny.”

“I’m afraid it might be one of those sitting around watching T.V. and drinking wine type of weekends.”

“Not much of a moment, is it?”

“It is what we make of it.” Sophie smiled and Miles knew why.

“Could you be any cheesier, Scarlett?” Cheesy or not, it didn’t change the fact that Miles would have taken her on the breakfast table if given half a chance.

“I could, if I knew the name of the guy in that movie. God. Why do you make me laugh when I’m so tired?”

“I don’t know. Hey. I’ve got an idea. Let’s drive to Concord on Saturday. Window shop. Get something nice to eat. We can swing that.”

“Concord is two hours from here.”

“What else have we got to do? We can leave in the morning and be back late Saturday night, sleep in Sunday morning…it’ll be something. Do you really want to stay here for an entire weekend?”

Sophie sighed. “You know, I would be, if it wasn’t for you. Sometimes I feel as though I’m using you.”

“Oh. I thought that was how I stood a shot in the first place. I mean, a girl as beautiful as you must have wanted-“ A hard elbow to the ribs under the table took the voice out of Miles. “God…” Miles’ breath gradually came back to him…”I…love you.”

“Let’s just leave it at that, then, shall we? No need to muck it up.”

“Hey. This is just a thought, and it’s not as though I don’t want to spend time with just you-“

“What?”

“Well, what about inviting Scott and Kyra?” It was the first time Miles had mentioned Kyra’s name to Sophie since she and Scott had walked in on innocence perceived as guilt. Miles was sure Sophie would be able to see him cringe while waiting for her response.

“It’s cute how you get all nervous about her now. Miles, I know how much you love me. That jealousy…It was refreshing. Almost…Needed, somehow. But it was stupid. Don’t worry. You could walk down the street holding her hand for all I care.” Now Miles actually was cringing. “Still waiting for a whip, hey? Good boy. I love you, Miles. Oh, it’s such good fun to watch you sometimes!” Sophie was almost laughing out loud. “Yes. I think that’s a great idea. Those two are about the only ones here I could stand a day’s conversation with.”

“You… Ok. I’m on the tubing hill-once again-with Scott. I’ll mention it.”

“Hey. Afterwards…after work. I want to take you somewhere.”

“Ok.” Miles knew that if Sophie had wanted to reveal the location she would have without his prompting. They quickly kissed and started out for their morning stations.

“Hey, Scott.” Miles waited for Scott’s attention to fall on him. “You guy doing anything this weekend?”

“I d’know. Haven’t really thought about it. Why?”

“Well, Sophie and I were thinking about driving to Concord tomorrow, early, for a day trip. Do some window shopping; eat some decent food… just a day trip. We were wondering if you guys would be interested.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad. Let you know tonight?”

“Sounds good.”

“Here they come.” The family camps director had let the herd loose from the dining hall. Tubing always bore the brunt of the onrush since it was the first activity anyone saw coming out of the dining hall. Time was never lagging, if one needed to look at snow tubing in a positive light. And as Miles marveled at the audacity in some of the advertising he had seen in the brands he was wearing, he wished the cold was never lagging either.

But with lunch the group left, guiding their Hummers and Escalades and Lexuses (the Lexus being the white trash of New England) toward white collar jobs and private schools. As usual it was hard to tell whether the kids or parents were more spoiled as the staff cleaned cabins and activity stations for another pair of hours after they left.

Miles met Sophie at the maintenance shed where they dropped off cleaning carts before going across the parking lot to record their hours.

They never bothered to talk about the weekend’s work. They held one another’s hands tightly and freely because they were finally allowed to do so and walked with an acquired matching step toward home.

Sophie veered them off course on a path leading to the low ropes element to the east of the staff house. Miles knew better than to assume Sophie wanted to show him a challenge course so he followed without speaking. Eventually she did.

“I led a hike Saturday morning. I want to take you there.” Miles knew Sophie was not a girl overly taken by nature so he continued following with a pique of curiosity.

Sophie walked past the element in the camp’s low ropes course until their route became more of a hike up a foothill. When they eventually arrived at the peak they were both almost winded.

“Look.”

Miles looked. From their vantage point he saw the whole of Camp Ontanogan, draped in snow, below them. “Wow. It looks so little up here.”

“I had never been up here. I had to lead a hike yesterday and Cliff showed me this trail. I don’t think anyone else has been up here. It’s almost impossible to see if you’re not looking for it. I thought maybe it could be for just you and me, right now. I mean, I’m sure other people will find it once the snow melts and the trails are easy to see, but, I thought you would like the view and I wanted you and me to be the first people here that saw it.”

“It’s beautiful.” Miles kissed Sophie. Unexpectedly, even to herself, Sophie reached for Miles…They ended up making love on a patch of frozen earth with a view of their camp and all the hills surrounding it.

They were both a bit out of sorts by the time they made it to Miles’ cabin as darkness fell. Something wonderful and new had happened; exactly the kind of moment they had been looking for. The kicker was that they were smart enough to know about it but not reminisce.

Tea Chapter 7

Chapter 7

“Hey, you’ve got to stay awake and keep me company, my darling.” It was eight in the morning. Miles and Sophie were about forty minutes into their trip to Newport, Rhode Island to tour the mansions on the coast. “You’re the one who wanted to make the most of the days and leave as early as we could manage this morning,” he chided. Sophie had been staring into space when her eyes were open, which was becoming less and less the norm as the minutes rolled along. “Besides, you’re the one that started things last night.”

“Yeah, the first time. Two and three were you and…him.”

“You know you can’t tease.”

“Me? I didn’t do anything.”

“Well. At least you’re alert in the face of accusation.”

“Oh. Piss off. Kiss me.”

“I’m driving!”

“It’s never stopped you before.” He concurred and complied. The drive continued. Driving through New England to reach a holiday destination is like a vacation all of its own. Rolling green hills, true colonial houses lined up along twisting highways, and scenery you swear you have seen on every calendar in every doctor’s office you have ever been in make even the route into town a more enjoyable trip than any other in America.

It was with that backdrop that the mending of the damage from the previous weeks took place. In the time it took to drive through that beautiful strip of early America it seemed as though not a cross word had been spoken between the two lovers. When they found their hotel they were glad that they could not check in for another three hours because it gave them an excuse to walk around Newport and be with only one another.

It was the same sensation they had felt so briefly in New York. It was a feeling of anonymousness in the crowd. No one knew who they were and no one cared too. For two people who were used to having every move they made watched and known, even if passively, it was a wonderful experience.

“Can you smell it, Miles? Can you smell the ocean? It’s right here. So big.” Sophie danced from one side of his body to the other and found a new arm to clasp.

“Yeah, I can, sweetheart. I can.” He squeezed her briefly and continued walking with her. They stopped at a half dozen or so eccentric stores that only a tourist town could get away with establishing but did more browsing than purchasing. They took a late lunch at a Panara and found their way back to the hotel; a cedar shingle Holiday Inn. Miles had never seen such a deviation in a major chain but on the most famous and opulent coast of Rhode Island eschewing the norm seemed elegant.

“Oh, Miles, come look!” Sophie had run to the end of the room before Miles had gotten his shoes off inside the door. Sophie had thrown the curtains open onto a view of a solitary beach. “Oh, it’s perfect.”

“Of course. I planned it that way.”

“Oh, you’re so full of rubbish. I was leaning on your shoulder when you made the reservations on Expedia.”

“Well, believe what you want. But we’re here.” He went to the patio window and slid his arms around her waist to take in the view. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Miles. I’m with you. Only you, for a change.”

“Yeah. We needed this, didn’t we?” She agreed. “”It is a great view. Who would have thought? I don’t know if you even saw the rest of the room, but we have a little foyer with a kitchenette and a coffee table and couch and everything.” Sophie craned her neck around Miles to look.

“It’s perfect.”

“Hopefully not so much that you won’t want to leave. I want to see those mansions tomorrow.”

“Oh, we will, those will be great.” Sophie took a deep breath and stood back from Miles for a moment. “You have been making me sappier and sappier by the minute this weekend, Miles. I can’t say that it’s entirely in character for me.”

“It’s good to try new things now and again.”

“Why do you always have some kind of answer for everything? And why does it never seem to be contrived?”

“Because it’s easy to be honest with you. Be myself. I trust you not to use it against me.”

“That’s a pretty big leap. I could rip you to shreds.”

“Oh, believe me, I know. It’s a risk I’m going to have to live with.”

“God.” Sophie laughed to herself. “Shut up. Come here.” Miles was already there but he knew what she meant. Before they fell onto the bed he flicked the curtain back across the window.

“I’m starving!” Sophie exclaimed. They were lying side by side on the still made bed in the dark.

“I don’t know how many options we’re going to have, now,” Miles answered glancing at the lime green numbers of the digital alarm clock on the night stand across the bed from them. They formed a reading of seventeen minutes after ten at night. “We could drive around downtown and see what’s open.”

“That should be easy. Pretty much everything is on that one main street. Can you get my bra and my shirt?” Miles felt around his immediate self in the blackness and found the rest of Sophie’s clothes. After she reacquainted herself with Victoria and Calvin Klein they headed out onto the town.

There were enough lights on as they came upon the main street that they weren’t too worried. The restaurant they settled on looked like it could have been a church at one time. The inside was all stonework and wooden beams from the kind of trees that hadn’t grown that large in Newport for at least a hundred years. Even the blades on the ceiling fans dozens of feet above them looked bigger than any of the trunks they had seen in the entire state.

“Wow,” Sophie uttered, just inside the door. “This might be-“

“Don’t worry. We’re on vacation, right?” Sophie faintly shook her head and smiled. The hostess found them and they were escorted to a table for two in the middle of the hardwood main floor. Miles swore he spotted bird’s-eye maple underneath his shoe. He shrugged to himself and ordered a pint of Guinness for himself and a Grey Goose martini for Sophie.

“Who are you, and what have you done with my boyfriend?” Sophie asked.

“Well, last I checked I was a little more than that.”

“Not without a ring. Don’t get too cocky, now.” Her smiling blush hurt the credibility of her conviction.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Ooh, say it again!”

“You’re right, Sophie.”

“My goodness, that got me hotter than anything you’ve ever told me, Miles Drake.” Miles put the back of his hand across his mouth and pointed Sophie up with his eyes. Their waitress was standing beside Sophie waiting to take her order. Her blush deepened. She kicked Miles’ shin under the table before speaking.

“I’ll have the Chicken Marcella.” The waitress looked to Miles.

“I’ll have the Blackened Sesame Tuna. And can we get the spinach artichoke dip for an appetizer?” Karen nodded and took their menus.

“You could have told me she was standing there before I made an ass of myself.”

“I had to let her know I was spoken for.”

“Wha-I don’t even know how to respond to that. I’m going to take it as a compliment.”

“That was the intention. She would have thought such a beautiful girl sitting at my table must be a business meeting or my interpreter or something.”

“Just stop it…” Sophie looked around her perimeter before continuing, “…Or I’m going to take you right on top of this table.”

“Again? You jest.”

“Watch me.” There was a wicked vindictiveness in her eyes that Miles could not argue with.

“You know, that first night in Boston…That was amazing, Sophie. Ever since then I knew…”

She smiled cordially and leaned back into her chair. “Why, thank you. I trust there have been other moments?”

“Oh, many others. Hours ago, for instance.”

“That was a moment?”

“For me, yes. The ocean meters away, nothing but you and me in the room with a bed bigger than anything…” Miles had to stop.

“When you put it that way…” Sophie said. She reached across the table and clasped Miles’ hand. “I love you, sweetheart.

“I love you, too. I love you.” After a perfect pause they saw the waitress heading toward them with a tray.

Karen set the appetizer in the middle of the table and after putting plates down left as swiftly as she had come. Miles and Sophie ate in silence for a while once remembered how hungry they were. By the time the main courses were presented they were eating at a civilized pace once again.

“That was really nice. Thank you, Miles.” Sophie kissed her lover affectionately in the street before they opened his car doors.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Miles was still reeling from the fifty-four dollar bill he had received from the restaurant but was not going to show it. They drove back to the Holiday Inn tired and full, and that was the point.

“Ugh. It feels like it’s so late,” Sophie lamented after gracelessly flopping onto the couch in the first half of the room.

“Well, it is nearly eleven. And we did get up at around seven-thirty this morning. Shall we cash our chips in and rest up for the mansions tomorrow?”

“That sounds good to me. I want to take a shower first, though.” There was enough vibrance left in Sophie for a smirk. “You want to come?”

“I could never bee tired enough to resist, my darling.” He followed her into the plushest bathroom they had seen in months.

“So is this what we do, love? Hop from holiday to holiday and rekindle our flame every so often? What is it going to be like after we leave New Hampshire?” Sophie was wondering aloud in the dark, lying as close to Miles in the king-sized hotel bed as she did in the twins of the cabins at the camp.

“I don’t know, Sophie. Isn’t that what most people do in real life? Isn’t that what holidays are for?”

“I guess. I just like feeling like this with you so much. But I don’t feel like this at camp.”

“A lot of people don’t feel their happiest moments are at work.”

“But it’s different for us. There’s no going home. That place is our whole life right now. There’s no separation of work and anything else. We get done with a group and we walk twenty meters to our home. It just makes me a little stir-crazy is all.”

“I don’t know what to do about that. Ontanogan brought us together. That’s a positive, right?”
“Yeah. I just want you to tell me that some day we’ll feel like this all the time.”

“Well, not to get all philosophical, but I think that you have to have some kind of undesirable factors in your life to make you really appreciate moments like these. Think about it. If we were rich and jetsetting all over the world, do you think we would appreciate this little corner of Rhode Island, this room that’s so far removed from our little bits of unhappiness at camp? We would probably be unhappy, and not even realize what was making us that way because we would think we had it all.”

“Wow. That was pretty deep, Miles.”

“Yeah, sorry. I want to make everything roses for you, Sophie. That’s why I take holidays like this with you. But we can’t do it all the time. I hope you can find something you like no matter where you are.”

“I like being with you. That makes everything seem a little better. You’re really nice to me. You make me feel really wonderful, pretty much all the time.” Sophie laughed a contemplative humor. “I imagine if it wasn’t for that I would have either gone crazy or turned into a complete bitch.”

“Good, good. I’m glad I can be…that… for you.”

“I love you, darling.”

“I love you, too.”

The two awoke the next morning with an air of casualty that they were fully aware and appreciative of. Miles wandered into the lobby and found the continental breakfast for the two of them while Sophie was in the shower. They sat on the bed in a square of sunshine and ate tiny muffins and plastic cups of cranberry-apple juice. After fueling up Miles took his turn in the shower and they drove to the coast to start their tour of the mansions.

The mansions in Newport were once summer homes for families like the Vanderbilts and the ffhtht. By the time they were passed on to younger generations, development in the area coupled with the shear amount of land the buildings occupied catapulted the property taxes so high that the heirs donated or signed joke leases to the city. The places were kept up by a society of some sort that does that sort of thing. The mansions were basically reclassified as museums.

For thirty dollars a piece, Miles and Sophie were given tickets to the five mansions currently open to the public. There was a structured tour through all of them so not only was the guesswork and timing of the day not an issue but the adventure came equipped with a knowledgeable guide.

Almost the entire time they toured the first and least extravagant of the mansions along with a group of about ten others their mouths were agape. The building boasted room after room of marble columns, vaulted ceilings, fantastic views, and imported everything. The most illuminating moments came when the guide, a woman just beginning to show silver in her hair and looked like she could have lived in the place in modern times, pointed out the ‘modern’ features. Those features included things like indoor flush toilets, dumbwaiters to pulley food from the kitchen to the dining room, and typewriters.

They were homes in times where people actually had grand pianos in music rooms adjacent to smoking parlors with full-size billiard tables and separated dressing rooms outside their bedrooms.

And the rooms only got bigger and more over-the-top as the tour went on. By the time the group made it to the Breakers, summer home of the Vanderbilts, they thought they had seen it all. They were wrong. The Breakers was ridiculous. Everything Miles and Sophie had seen in the other mansions was intensified by leaps and bounds at the Breakers. The staircases were curvier, the ballrooms bigger, the kitchens way ahead of their times, and the views and gardens more lush than anything else.

“Wow,” was all Sophie could manage as they drove back to their hotel room.

“Yeah. I’m really glad you bought that coffeetable book in the bookstore. Nobody’s going to believe this.”

“Oh, I know. The Breakers was…Can you imagine living in that place? Forty-three staff when they weren’t there?”

“Yeah, and shipping their family silverware with them by train? Crazy.”

“Well, they did own the railroads. May as well use them.”

“Yeah. Are you hungry?”

“Famished. I thought you would never ask.” Sophie leaned over and pecked his cheek.

“What do you feel like?”

“Well, after today, some filet-mingion in a truffle sauce. How about you?”

“I’m going to say McDonald’s. Let’s meet in the middle, shall we?”

“So good at compromise. How did I get so lucky?”

“I don’t know. You should probably hang on to me.”

“You should be so lucky.”

They settled on an Italian restaurant not far from where they had dined the previous night. They were unusually silent over pasta and wine, not for lack of anything to say, but because spending the day on their feet and in constant amazement had sapped them of their usual energy.

Tired feet and full stomachs could not, however, keep the two vacationers from taking advantage of a king-sized bed and anonymous neighbors. The pace of consummation was perhaps a bit more relaxed than usual, but neither suffered for it.

“We need to do this more often,” Sophie sighed happily as she lay at an angle from Miles with her head on his ribs.

“See, I told you!”

“Not this, you twit!” Sophie giggled despite her pretended frustration. “If we did this any more than we already do I think I would die of exhaustion. I mean, go on holiday, just the two of us. I like most everyone else and all, but I like you more.”

“You know, Sophie, I do too.” It was amazing how she could make him realize things about their relationship on a regular basis “I mean, you’re the first girl I’ve ever dated that I actually like hanging out with.”

“Um, Thanks?”

“Well, I mean, usually girlfriends are ok to hang out with and you like them and all, sure, but there’s always that voice in the back of your head wondering what the guys are up to or if there’s any beer in the fridge or whatever. But with you…I mean, I think that if we were just…plutonic friends, I would still want to hang out with you more than anyone else in camp.”

“Same goes for you, sweetheart.”

“I mean, we have lots of sex, and I really like that…Miles paused to reflect on an example involving an ice cube… “But, being around you was fun even before that. I guess I just don’t want you to think that’s what I think it’s all about.”

Sophie rolled from her back to her stomach. “I know, love. If I thought that I would have bagged you a long time ago. But it’s nice to hear you say.” Miles nodded. Sophie swept closer to Miles like an Australian minute hand until she hit twelve-thirty and inched her way up Miles for the midnight hour.

Tea- Chapter 6

Chapter 6

February coldly bled into March with only the calendar on the wall denoting any discrepancy. Time brought a further segregation of the staff as far as Miles could tell. He went over the cliques as he walked to the dining hall on the second Saturday of the month to eat a breakfast he had eaten over a dozen times before. Sophie had been assigned to the Tubing Hill for that morning. The days Miles walked alone were always worse than the days they could both sleep in until breakfast.

At the most obvious end of the fragmentation was Paul. He stood alone as the eternal slacker frat boy, not only not contributing but making everyone else’s lives more difficult for being a part of them. The thing with Paul was that he brown-nosed constantly so the administrative staff thought he was the greatest yes-man in the arsenal. Jabari, Gerri, Emma, Sergio and Christopher made up the sporty, peppy bunch which ran in close circles with Scott, Kyra, Sophie, and Miles. The latter four were mostly bunched because of the common ground of relationship status but in all honesty even the four of them did not hang out nearly as much as they said they would like to.

Scott and Miles were probably the most closely knitted because they had to have someone to drink with when girls got to be too much of a hassle and Miles imagined that Sophie and Kyra shared the same sort of bond. All in all Miles wished that everyone were closer as a group like they had been in the beginning.

That wasn’t to say that he couldn’t walk up to Jabari or Sergio and strike up a conversation. Everyone got along and would consider anyone else a friend and fellow conspirator in the camp life, but Miles had not actually gone out of his way to catch up with anyone besides his four main contacts in quite some time. He noticed that it was the same way throughout the group.

But there was cold French toast and dry sausage patties to be eaten so Miles turned his attention towards the first meal of the day. He brushed Sophie’s shoulders with the back of his hand as he passed the staff table on his way to the buffet, which was all he could get away with as far as a public display of affection went when they were in the presence of paying campers. He felt her smile follow him as he picked up a plate and started decorating it from tin pans set atop flaming cans of redi-heat.

Sophie had saved him a seat which Miles was always flattered by no matter how regular the ritual had become. They exchanged hellos and held hands under the table as they ate.

“How was tubing, or should I even ask?” Miles knew that Sophie had been assigned to the duty with Paul that particular morning.

“You should not ask. But I’m on the Trading Post the whole morning, so it almost balances out.”

“Hmm. I wish they would put us together more.” Miles was on guard at the BB gun range for the morning.

“They know better, my love,” Sophie smiled. That smile warmed Miles more than the hot shower he had decided to pass on in favor of fifteen more minutes of sleep that morning.

When the time came to pull parkas off the rack behind the staff table and split off for different points around the camp Miles lingered just a bit the same as Sophie like a carefully planned ballet routine.

“I’ll see you at lunch?” He asked.

“Of course. I love you, Miles.”

“I love you too, Sophie.” They kissed clandestinely and walked in opposite directions.

Some mornings lasted longer than others. The BB gun range was one such morning. Saturday mornings seemed to last longer than other anyways as far as Miles was concerned because he had just come off of a fantastic stint of free time with the woman he loved and they both had three days of exhaustion to suffer through before they could get back together again. Miles was starting to feel guilty about the fact that his life was geared around his days off and the English girl that had him by the heart rather than the job he had traveled all the way to the east coast to secure. It was especially amusing because Miles had originally thought that coming to New Hampshire for six months would be a break from the real world including being on the lookout for girls.

That Saturday might have seemed unfairly long because he and Sophie had decided to take a trip for and by themselves the next week. They had been to great places together but always as part of a group and had decided that they needed to experience something like that on their own time. The mansions of Newport, Rhode Island had caught their fancy some time ago and they had finally decided to travel alone together and marvel at historical American lavishness.

Nonetheless Miles smiled and instructed patrons in the proper use of the least dangerous weapons in the history of the world all the while daydreaming of the day he could take Sophie’s hand and stroll with her through an extravagant garden of their own.

How was it that the more comfortable and the more attuned Miles became to Sophie being in his life, the more he wanted her? They met again at lunch (chicken strips; per usual) and he almost couldn’t stop himself from picking her up and running out of the dining hall’s double doors with her. Shouldn’t Miles be growing bored with the monotony of the same woman? That was what he would have thought but seeing her, even sitting at a collapsible bench table sticky with breakfast beverages and gritty with crumbs, made him helplessly grin with nervousness the way he had when he saw her for the first time in the waning days of the previous year.

Miles behaved himself and quietly ate his chicken strips. He was smiling on the inside whenever he looked toward Sophie and couldn’t keep his grin from the rest of the table when her eyes matched hers. It was just a lost cause.

“You’re so smiley today,” Sophie whispered during a quick lean toward Miles as they pulled their jackets from the coat hooks.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know why.”

“Same as always?” She slyly smiled.

Miles continued beaming. “Same as always.”

“Well, kiss me. Just don’t make it obvious.” He did. “I’ll see you at dinner. What are you on?”

“Dishes.” That meant a wrap-up at seven in the evening for Miles as well as Kyra, who was also on that particular duty that night.

“Eh. I’ve got to run the campfire tonight. I won’t see you until nine or so.”

“Well, that’s how it always goes, hey?” Miles’ grin was replaced with a more thoughtful gaze. “Love you, my darling girl,” he finally sighed.

She answered his breath with one of her own. “I love you, too.” They took their chances with a second embrace and parted for the second time that day.

“I swear, no matter how cold it gets outside, this room stays at a steady ninety-three degrees,” Miles muttered, exasperated and perspiring in the dish room with Kyra later that evening.

“At least we have some music,” Kyra responded, beating on the ancient boom box (you could tell it was old because it still said ‘boom box’ on the unit) that was spitting more static that song at them from the top of the enormous grey and gassy factory of a dish conveyer belt/washer that took up most of the space they were occupying. She breathed heavily and leaned against the sinks across from the Hobart.

“You all right?”

“Yeah. Just hot. Let’s just get this done and get out of here.” Miles nodded agreement.

They continued pushing racks of cutlery and serving platters through the metal caterpillar until it became obvious to Miles that Kyra was not feeling sound at all.

“Hey. Kyra.” Miles stopped rinsing overly-zealous gobs of ketchup from the plates in front of him. “I can handle this. You should get back.”

“No, I’m-“

“Hey, I don’t feel like beating around the bush. You look like shit. Go home. I’ve got it. It’s no big deal.”

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks, coach. Ok. You’re sure?” Miles didn’t have to speak. “Ok, ok.” She shuffled toward the door ad was almost out before turning around with one hand inside left inside the sill of the dish room door. ‘Thanks, Miles.” He waved her away with smile and a spatula pock-marked with mashed potatoes.

Miles finished about a half an hour later than usual, which just highlighted the efficiency of big organizations sometimes. One good thing about doing dishes all night in the winter months was that the walk home was actually comfortably refreshing.

Miles flipped the lights on in his cabin thinking that he was the only one in residence for an hour or so since Scott was running the campfire with Sophie and Gerri.

“Scott?”

“Oh, Jesus, I’m sorry, Kyra. I didn’t think anyone was in here.” Miles turned off the main light once he turned on the lamp beside his bed. How are you feeling?”

“Could you do me a huge favor and get me some water?”

“Yeah, sure thing.” Miles went into the bathroom with the biggest clean (?) cup he could find and brought it to her.

“Not feeling to well huh?” Kyra shook her head. Miles put the back of his hand to her forehead like he had seen on TV. “Wow. You’re really warm, Kyra.”

“Mmm. Feels like someone threw a brick at my back.” Miles pressed. “Ow. No, lower.” He felt down to Kyra’s lumbar. “Ow…No, that’s nice. Oh. Thank you.” Miles continued kneading.

“Don’t get exited or anything, but I’m going to get behind you because it’s easier, ok?” Kyra mumbled something incoherently. Miles swung around over Kyra’s thighs and continued massaging.

“Hmm. That’s…Thanks, Miles…Ow…Uhn…Ooh-“

Light flashed on, blinding both Miles and Kyra.

“What the Hell?”

“Miles?”

Miles recognized Sophie’s voice at once and when his eyes adjusted he saw her glowering at the front door with Scott.

“Whoa, Hey… we weren’t… Sophie’s not… I mean Kyra’s not feeling well. I was just…”

“Scott? I think I’m sick.”

Sophie and Scott were still standing in the doorway staring at the two other occupants of the cabin, both of whom were still on Scott’s bed, though no longer touching.

“Kyra?”

“Scott, I really don’t feel good.”

“Honestly, Guys. I told Kyra to go home early,” Miles started, moving to his own bed. “I came back and Kyra was half asleep but she was really warm and she said her back hurt too, so I tried to help her…”

‘He got me some water too,” Kyra added, maybe realizing what Sophie and Scott thought they had seen. Scott’s caring side one out and he went to Kyra’s side. He was still glaring into space.

“You’re really warm, babe.”

“See?” Miles asked. Sophie glared at him. “Sophie…”

“Miles…never mind. I’m going to bed.” Sophie walked out of the room and into the night. Miles stood agape for only a second before bolting through the door himself.

“Sophie!” Miles ran the short distance to her. They were standing in the middle of the road. The lights that pervaded every corner of the camp made the crusty snow all around them look like quartz. “Sophie, wait. Where are you going?”

“I told you. I’m going to bed.”

“But…Come on. Come back with me. It’s freezing out here.” Something Miles could also see in the night lights was the anger in Sophie’s eyes. “Sophie, come on. She was sick. I was just trying to help her.”

“You just don’t do that, Miles! Do you know what that looks like? Like you were bloody fucking mounting her!” She socked his shoulder with all the force she could muster. “What else would I think? The light were off, no one was around…I didn’t know she was bloody sick! Jesus!” Out of the corner of his eye Miles saw Jabari peek out his window across the street from them. “I’m still fucking shaking, Miles. Sorry for hitting you. But I’m fucking mad at you!”

“I’m sorry, Sophie. I was just trying to help Kyra out. If I thought-If either of us had thought that it would look like something it wasn’t…”

“That’s it then. You didn’t think.”

“No, Sophie. I didn’t think of that. I didn’t think of that because I’m so fucking in love with you that something like that would have never even crossed my mind if you hadn’t brought it up. Now I’m fucking pissed off!”

“Well, we’re in the shit then, aren’t we? I’m pissed off because you were dry humping Kyra and you’re pissed off because I caught you.”

“Sophie, I’m going to be real calm about this, but it might be all the calmness I have in me. Why do you think that I was doing something with Kyra?”

“Because…You…you just were.” Miles waited. “That’s something you do with me. And you were doing it with Kyra. And who knows what else.”

“Nothing else. What I was ‘doing’ with Kyra was trying to make her feel a little better, because I care about her. I care about her the same way I care about you, I just happen to also care about you in a lot of other and much more personal ways as well. But yes, Sophie, yes. You caught me. You caught me caring about someone who wasn’t you. That’s just the kind of asshole I am. Remind me never to invite you to meet my family because you’ll really hate me then.”

Miles turned and kept walking past his cabin and up to the lounge. He flipped the lights on and was glad that there was no one inside. He rooted around in the fridge until he found the Jack Daniels he knew Jabari had in a juice bottle and mixed half whiskey and half coke in a pint glass. He plopped onto the couch without much of a game plan. There was nothing on TV but he didn’t feel like watching anything anyways. He felt like being asleep with Sophie, if the truth were to be told. Miles had begun the episode on the defensive but had found himself becoming more and more irate at Sophie’s accusations. He could see no reason for them. Miles was not even the kind of guy to rubberneck at girls passing by let alone attempt the things she was convinced he had done.

Where he stood at that moment was as upset as she was. He was mostly upset because he could not convince Sophie of his innocence. What could have gotten into her mind to make her think that he would be unfaithful to her? They adored one another and spent every spare moment they had together. For goodness’ sake they had just talked about marriage not that long ago, if in an abstract fashion.

The last thing to traipse across Miles’ mind before he fell asleep was how, and if, the vacation to Rhode Island they had planned would go off.

“Hey.” Miles was shaken awake. The windows were still dark and he hoped it wasn’t what passed for morning in March already. He turned his head to find Scott staring down at him. “Time to get up, man. You got an hour before breakfast. You should go talk to Sophie. She’s pretty upset.”

Miles sighed. “Are we straight?” Scott nodded.

“Kyra told me what happened. It was just a bit of a surprise, is all. But that’s the thing. We’ve been together for years, her and I. For all your trying, you and Sophie just haven’t. But that’s not for me too sort out.” Scott glanced away and picked up the nearly full glass Miles had poured the other night. He held it to his nose as though it were a beaker from a chemistry lab. His nostrils flared and he set it back down. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t finish this one off.” Miles shrugged and took Scott’s offered hand to come to a sitting position on the couch.

“Well, I should probably jump in the shower and see what I’m on this morning.” The two roommates shuffled out of the room and into their cabin. Miles continued shuffling into the bathroom and took a quick shower.

He stepped out into the crisp dry winter air for the second time that morning and hoped Sophie was in her cabin. He did not know where else she would be but there was still a less-than-settled feeling in his stomach. He knocked on her door but heard nothing. Miles figured the English girls were probably both still asleep so he quietly turned the knob and crept through the dark to Sophie’s bed. He felt her all too familiar form under the covers. Sophie stirred as soon as his hand glided over her shoulder.

“Hey. What are you doing? It’s early.”

“I know. Scott got me up so I could see you before work.”

“So now you’re all in on it. Did you sleep in the lounge?”

“Yeah.”

“Well. Serves you right.”

“Sophie…”

“I’m not done being mad at you yet.”

“Come on. Kyra told Scott what happened and we’re all all right now. Except you. And you’re the one that matters to me.”

Sophie harrumphed. “I guess I just don’t know you that well.”

“That’s what Scott said.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, like I said, Kyra explained everything to Scott and he took it in stride once he knew what was going on. He said it was easy for him to understand because he and Kyra have been together for so long and maybe the reason the two of us didn’t shrug it off is because we really don’t know one another that well.”

“And what do you propose we do about the situation then?”

“I propose…” Miles started and quickly slid under the covers beside Sophie’s warm and sleepy body, “That we spend every bloody second of every bloody day together until we know so much about each other that we can pass as the other one.” Miles wrapped his arms around Sophie as she tried vainly to struggle.

“You’re accent is still atrocious, Miles, really. And I’m still mad at you.”

“Will you at least kiss me good morning? These nights without you are really awful. Jokes aside, I’m crazy about you. You know that.” Sophie sighed and gave him the kind of kiss little boys give to over-loving aunts when they are told to do so by angry parents. “Okay, that was seriously the worst ever. Was that my horrible English accent reincarnated into a display of affection?” Miles took the liberty of kissing her back and after a second of feigned resistance Sophie relaxed and matched his effort.

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“Don’t stop,” she said, “Just keep kissing me.” Miles did as he was told. When he finally had to he felt her arms still pressed into his hips. “You scared me.” Miles bent to kiss her cheek and felt a tear. He pulled his arms tighter around her ribs.

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t have to worry about that at all. I told you that I love you and I would never leave you, didn’t I?” He felt her nod under his chin. “I made you a promise, Sophie. I will never break that. Ever. That’s what a promise is.” He brought her eyes up to meet his. “I will never leave you, Sophie. I love you. I promise.” She smiled genuinely.

“No one has ever…even come close to saying something like that to me. I don’t know how to take it, I guess.”

“I know it’s only been a couple of months and that’s really strange, believe me. But I know how I feel. I know my love for you changes every day because every day there’s something different about you I hadn’t seen. But it’s always good and I’m always grateful for it. But you have it, Sophie. You have me.” She nodded.

“I’m yours, too, you know. I’m a little scared saying that even now, but I guess being scared is where this all got started.”

Miles nodded and kissed her again. “We have to get up, my love.”

“We have fifteen minutes. Stay for five.” He could not say no.

Time was up too soon and Miles watched Sophie shrug into a pair of jeans and pull on a pink jumper. They pushed the door open and walked into a new day together.

Sunday afternoons were always good. Everyone felt as though they had just come off a stint of making a difference in kids’ lives and had earned their respite, but weren’t bored with a lack of activity that so often hit about Wednesday afternoons. The program staffers were gathered in their tragic commons playing the same games over again and having the same conversations about the shifts they had just completed.

Miles was watching Sophie passively as she interacted with Kyra; almost as though it were a social science field study. There did not seem to be any differences in either off the girls. He and Scott were fine because, well, men are much less complex than women are.

Everyone was eating the leftover lasagna that had been griped about when it was first served the night before but was now hailed as a four star feast since it meant that no one had to cook on the first night off. A lot of people had also fallen into the habit of watching more TV than anything else. The fifty-some channel digital package the camp had splurged on the year before didn’t help the situation. At the moment a bunch of people were gathered around the thing watching an episode of ‘The Real World’ on MTV. Miles could not blame Christopher and Sergio; they were trying to come to a conclusion about American culture. But add Paul, Emma, and sometimes Gerri to the mix and you had a pretty un-interactive chunk of staff in the lounge.

Jabari, Scott, and Kyra were playing foosball and Miles and Sophie were sharing pint of Haagen-Dazs at the kitchen table to round out the group. It was actually becoming increasingly rare that everyone on the payroll was gathered in one place on their time off. It made the lounge seem…crowded.

“Hey. You want to…?” Sophie nodded, reading his thoughts. She put the lid on the carton of cookies and cream and stashed it in the freezer before they left with only a two-fingered wave from Miles to Scott.

“Well, what now, my love? Movie?”

“I’d rather do something a little more interactive than that.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Not that,” she shot back. “One track mind. I mean, well, we have to pack for one thing. I don’t know. I don’t care. I just really need to be with you, alone, right now. Especially after-“

“Ok, ok. We can. So you’re saying we should run away, huh? I’m thinking someplace warm, tropical-“

“Oh, shut up, you.” Miles smiled. Actually, Miles kept smiling. He realized he never stopped when he was with Sophie for the most part.

“Do you know how badly you make my cheeks hurt sometimes?” He wondered aloud.

“What do you mean?” He turned his smile toward her. “Oh bloody hell. You’re so damned cheesy sometimes.” Miles shrugged and put his arm around her.

“You bring it out in me.”

“Really. Has it worked on other girls? Because it’s not doing anything for me.” Miles just shook his head and let it go but he swore he could feel her smile matching his as she pressed her cheek into his sleeve.

They stopped at Miles’ cabin first. “Ok. We’re touring mansions, so you need to wear something nice. We should look like aficionados, not tourists. Like we decided to swing through after a wine-tasting or something. Do you have anything like that?”

“Sweetie, you’ve seen every piece of clothing I brought.”

“Hmm. I thought maybe you holding onto something special.”

“Hon, I wore my best stuff the first night we slept together in Boston. It worked then.”

“Yeah, well, I was horny. You got lucky.” Miles laughed out loud and shoved Sophie over onto his bed.

“So the blue shirt and the black pants, then. Check. Anything else her majesty requests?”

“No.”

“Do I get to pick what you wear to Newport?”

“I should thing not. I don’t want to get arrested.”
“Oh, you’re so sure you know what I’ll pick?”

“Is it apricot?”

“Well, except for the gauzy bits. That’s really more like a peach color.”

“One-track mind.”

“Well, do you have anything you’ve been saving away for a special occasion?”

“I’m a little better at keeping secrets than you are, maybe, but I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Then I’ll just throw a few thing in here…” Miles tossed some socks and boxers into his suitcase along with a couple of polo shirts, a sweater, and an extra pair of pants and clicked the latches closed on his suitcase. “Finished. Onto the Lady Sophie’s wardrobe.”

They went to Sophie’s cabin where the clothing choices were a little more deliberate that Miles’ had been. After almost an hour Sophie was packed as well and Miles pulled his car up to the cabin so they could leave straight away in the morning. They technically were not allowed to park on staff row because of the plow truck’s need for access but they would be able to slip one night under the radar especially since there were no groups in camp for a few days.

“Well I feel like we accomplished a lot today,” Miles concluded, kissing the side of Sophie’s head as they stood in his cabin.

“I think there’s something more we haven’t thought of.” Sophie countered.

“What’s that?” She stretched up to kiss him softly and let her hand stray across the front of his pants. “One-track mind,” Miles sighed.