Tea- Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The sky was grey but the air was warmer than it had been all season when Miles, Sophie, Kyra, and Scott filed out of a cabin barely built for two. They took Scott’s car because it got the best mileage and after stopping at the first Dunkin’ Doughnuts on their route out of camp they were off and running to Concord.

Concord was a town not unlike many others in New England. It was spread out so that you couldn’t really tell where the borders were as they blurred into smaller replica towns at the ends. There were three different open-air malls. The offerings were slightly different; an Old Navy over there, Borders instead of Barnes and Noble farther down the road, slightly better restaurants in another. Those differences were so slight that whenever anyone drove down the main road through town they simply stopped at the first plaza they saw. The Ontanogan quartet was no exception.

“Oh my god it’s good to be out of camp for a while.” Scott declared with a feral stretch.

“Can you imagine staying there during the summer when you can’t leave whenever you want and have to sign in and out even when you are allowed to go?” Miles pondered aloud.

“That’s not for me. Ok. Well, you girls run into Victoria’s Secret and buy something sexy for us and Miles and I will go to Sharper image and pretend we’re really interested in purchasing massage chairs and electric scooters.” Kyra punched Scott’s arm. Sophie slapped Miles’.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything!” He cried.

“You would have.”

“Sweetheart, I’ve told you a hundred times that I would think you were beautiful even if you weren’t wearing anything at all.” She slapped him again but smiled as she did. Kyra mimicked her.

“Hey!”

“Shut it, Scott. You’ll say something just as dumb sometime when I’m not around. That was in advance.” He shook his head.

“Ahh, come on. Why not get something more to eat? That one Bismark on the way here isn’t cutting it.” They wandered until they saw a Panara and decided on expensive sandwiches for brunch.

Sitting at a high round table with high round chairs with his closest friends on the east side of the country Miles imagined then as a normal double date, a group of teachers or small business owners, nurses or bankers, or a mixture of any of those. The kind of people that worked nine to five jobs and had two week’s paid vacations and ranch houses with Volkswagen Jettas in the driveway.

Sometimes Miles wanted that. Their jobs seemed like ones that no one would take seriously; something that college kids did when they took a year off from school to see the country or something along those lines. Miles realized that these feelings of wanting to grow up and live a normal, boring life were the opposite of what he had been feeling a day or so before. That was the reason for the warring in his mind. Both sides of the job market had good points and bad ones. The perfect solution would be to blend them, perhaps have a real job eight months out of the year and a ‘fun’ job for three or four months with a vacation or two scattered in them somewhere.

“Miles.” He turned to look at Sophie. “Are you having a seizure? You’ve been staring at your sandwich for a frighteningly long time.”

“Oh, sorry. Just wool-gathering. Imagining us all as bankers or something boring like that.”

“Wow. Your fantasies are really…bland. Sorry.” Miles rolled his eyes and continued eating his sandwich. While they waited for him to finish the other three talked about life in a house with ten other people.

“Yeah, Paul pisses me off sometimes. But it’s not as though he does anything specifically. He’s not annoying on purpose. He just…doesn’t do anything.” This was from Kyra, off an observation from Sophie.

“He’s pretty much the only weak link, really though,” Scott added. “We got pretty lucky seeing as how he’s our worst problem.”

“The foreign kids are coming along pretty well. I mean, Sergio and Christopher. Both of their English skills have gotten a lot better over the last couple of months.” Kyra started.

“Yeah, we should get them out more. If I were in a different country for this long I’d have wanted to see a little more by now.”

“Is this their first stay here?” Sophie asked. By that time Miles was finished and he spoke up.

“Christopher was a foreign exchange student in high school for a semester. I don’t know about Sergio, but my guess would be he’s a newbie.”

“How’d you find that out?” Sophie asked.

“I talk to other people. Actually, the two of us get scheduled on a lot of the multi-person stations for some reason.”

“I think they just get lazy with those schedules in the office. They must just change a couple of names around on a master template and distribute it because I haven’t done anything radically different since I got here,” Scott said.

“Maybe they just see certain people as being good at certain things,” Miles offered.

“Or maybe they notice the people who don’t bitch about being put on the shitty jobs.” Kyra rebutted. They all nodded, seeming to see both points as potentially valid.

“Hey. We’re not here to talk about work,” Miles finally said. “Let’s get out of here and spend those miserably tiny paychecks they give us.” The other three laughed and they left Panara for the rest of the plaza.

They ended up in The Sharper Image first because they all wanted to get a free chair massage. After that got old they decided to stick together and after a quick stop in the Yankee Candle store so Sophie could get a Clean Cotton Housewarmer it was off to Borders.

It was never any problem spending most of a day in that store since there was something for everyone. Sophie stayed mostly in the book section; Miles in music. Scott and Kyra drifted from section to section as their moods swayed; sometime together and sometimes not.

Miles wandered through the bookshelves after a while looking for Sophie because he was lonely. He found her in an overstuffed chair in one of the many nooks around the store reading a girly book.

“Hey, darling.”

“Hi!” Sophie was happy to see him but seemed sleepy. Miles knew that was just how she was when she was reading something interesting. “Did you find anything?” She tented the paperback on her stomach to give Miles her attention.

“Nothing I can’t live without. Did you have any luck?”

“Well, I like this one.” She rolled her eyes to her stomach, “But I’m just going to order it online. It’ll be cheaper.”

“Good call.” Miles pressed his palms on the arms of Sophie’s chair so he could lean down to kiss her.

“What was that for?”

“You’ll probably do something cute and irresistible that I won’t be around for eventually. Just banking on it now.”

“I bet you know what I’m about to say.”

“Mmhh. I love you, too, Sophie.”

“No, that you’re cheesy.” Miles helped her up and she re-shelved her book. “But I love you, too, anyways.”

They walked around the bookstore holding hands like junior highschoolers and not caring. When they found Scott and Kyra everyone decided that seeing a movie would be the thing to do.

Miles had not seen a movie in a theatre since he had been in Chicago. The closest theatre to the camp was a half an hour away but for some reason he and Sophie had never considered the option.

They saw a 3-star comedy that did what it was supposed to do but that none of them would be waiting eagerly to purchase in a month.

“Well, it’s way too early to go back to camp,” Miles noted, seeing that the six o’clock hour was more young than old.

“It’s probably about time to eat again,” Scott countered. Everyone agreed that it was indeed precisely that time of the evening.

Dining out was a wonderful event for adults used to eating the same things their elementary school cafeterias had served. Being from Chicago had afforded Miles a diverse palette, but he knew being on the east coast was an even bigger treat for the small-town folks who didn’t have the diversity where they hailed from that they saw in New Hampshire. However, Miles was very appreciative of Bruschetta appetizers and a chicken, artichoke, and smoked Gouda white sauce pizza, which is what the group decided on at the brick-oven pizza restaurant they had chosen.

“Whew,” Miles exhaled when the meal was finished. “Now I’m all sleepy.”

“Well, it’s almost eight. We could head back, I guess,” Scott mused.

“Eh, let’s go to Starbucks first and get some after dinner dessert coffee.”

“Oh, that sounds like a really good idea, Kyra agreed. That settled it. Soon they were sitting in the Starbuck across the parking lot from the pizzeria holding toffee nut, caramel, or mocha coffees, depending on who was focused on.

“I wonder if anybody buys those c.d.’s,” Miles wondered aloud. He was speaking of the compilation discs exclusive to Starbucks that sat next to every register in every store he had ever graced.

“They must. They’re all over. Probably yuppies or whatever that buy four dollar coffees twice a day and think nothing of it,” Scott answered.

“Are there Starbucks in England?” Miles wondered again.

“Yeah, hon, they’re everywhere. In France, people look at them the way I imagine a Mexican would look at a Taco Bell here.” They all smiled at the alliteration.

Pointless conversation and steaming cups of heaven dispensed with another hour. Driving back, Miles felt as though the day had been a rousing success. They arrived in Camp about an hour before today turned into tomorrow.

“Well, day one of four is in the books. Any ideas about tomorrow? It’s your turn.” Miles prodded Sophie as they walked up the road to his cabin.

“At this point it might be another movie day. Let me sleep on it and I might have some fresher ideas for you in the morning.”

“Good, good. Because I would hate to spend all day lying in bed with you,” Miles kidded.

“You should be so lucky.”

As New Hampshire thawed, activities within the camp increased. Miles found himself scheduled for such an activity the following Wednesday, which broke up the week quite nicely, even if it was eight hours he could have been spending with Sophie. Apparently, before summer camp started, there was to be a work weekend where alumni came back to do volunteer work to get the place looking like it did in its brochures. One task a crew would be given was the assembly of a new storage shed.

Miles, Jabari, and Scott were chosen by Dan, the head maintenance man, to procure the lumber for the shed. The job entailed pushing logs that were felled on the property through a huge saw several times, creating rough planks of wood. The three guys were chosen not necessarily because they were especially rugged, but because Dan knew they were three guys that would not complain about hard work. Especially when they had one another for companionship.

“Damn, man. Forget lifting weights. I should tell my old coach about this shit,” Jabari said, rolling a log onto the saw’s track with the help of Scott, Miles and log picks.

“Right? I don’t think I’ve ever broken a sweat here before today,” Miles answered.

“You know why they picked us for this, right?” Scott said. “It’s because we’re Jewish.” They all laughed at the absurdity of that comment. A black guy, a white guy, and a Korean guy walk into a restaurant…

The morning went on like that until they broke for lunch. Scott and Miles went to kiss their respective girlfriends on their respective cheeks before joining Jabari in the lounge for turkey sandwiches and fruit punch.

“You know something, Jabari? I don’t think we’ve spent this much time together since New York. How’ve you been keeping yourself amused all these weeks?”

Jabari thought about the question for a moment. “Emma and I hang out a lot. We both run, so… We go to that gym in New Bedford since we have a free membership through the Y… I take her and Serg and Christopher around since they don’t have cars. Nothing much.”

“Well, we should do something with everyone-“ Miles stumbled with the realization that Paul was zoned out watching VH1 on the couch across the building from the kitchen- “Maybe not something huge. But get out to a bar or go bowling or something.”

“Sounds good to me. I haven’t been to a club since New York, actually. I don’t know that there’s much around here…”

“Ah, we’ll find something. After this weekend.” The three agreed and headed back to the lumber operation.

“I shouldn’t have sat down,” Jabari realized. “I’m all stiff.”

“Well, not me, but I know I’m going to feel this in the morning. Maybe I should start running with you guys.”

“A little Jack will ease your joints.” Miles said. They all nodded. They continued pushing logs through the saw and by the time four o’clock rolled around there was an impressive pile of boards beside the machinery. The trio looked at the fruit of their labors approvingly and walked to the office to record their hours before walking back to staff row.

“There are our boyfriends!” Sophie pretended to gasp. She and Kyra were playing Scrabble on the floor between the two beds.

“Were you worried about us, Shnookums? There’s no need to fear. We’re big, tough lumberjacks now.”

“Lumberjacks who just made an extra fifty bucks on the week,” Scott added.

“Now you’re talking our language,” Kyra said. The guys sat down and the girls dealt them in on a new game. Miles brought out a bottle of wine and they had themselves an evening of Scrabble and vino.

“Ok, ok. Maybe it’s just me, but I think Yahtzee is a blast! We have to get it. I’ll donate it to camp when I leave.” The four of them were deep into a discussion of their favorite board games.

“Well, I like Monopoly, but Scott hates it.” Kyra said.

“How could you hate Monopoly?” Sophie asked.

“That’s my girl.” Miles kissed Sophie’s temple.

“It takes too damn long. It never ends!” Scott cried before draining the remainder of his wine.

“Well, my favourite is Clue.” Sophie said. “Nobody here has that one either. We should get it.”

“We should, but do you know how expensive some of those games are? They start out at around twenty dollars. I think Monopoly is almost thirty,” Kyra answered.

“Really? I don’t think I’ve ever bought a brand-new board game. I always get them at garage sales, or a thrift store or something. Or from my parents.” Miles said.

“This is the lamest conversation ever.” Scott concluded. “Oh no, wait. ‘Dungeons and Dragons’ is awesome. Ok, now it’s the lamest conversation ever.” With that comment Miles found another bottle of wine.

Scrabble gave way to ‘Boundary Breakers’, a game from Kyra’s bag of tricks. The game was along the lines of a more mature version of ‘Truth or Dare’, meaning that there was no daring. One person started a subject such as ‘What I thought about Camp Ontanogan after my first fifteen minutes on site’ and everybody went around the circle and answered. Even for a foursome that was as close as the four people playing it was an interesting game.

“Ok. The first thing you thought when you saw your significant other. I’ll start. I met Scott at another Y camp in Massachusetts a couple of years ago. The first thing I noticed was his smile. It was so big it made his eyes almost disappear. And his voice. I liked it right away. I have a thing with voices. If someone sounds like Fran Dresher it kills me.”

Scott was next. “The first thing I noticed about Kyra was that she didn’t seem to be looking for anyone at all. In that camp, every one was trying to hook up with someone. It’s sort of ironic that the two of us did.”

“Me, I guess? The first thing I noticed about Miles was how courteous he was. I thought all Americans would be pompous, or whatever, but he was really nice to me, even though he didn’t know me at all.”

“Well, this might sound shallow, but the very first thing I noticed about Sophie…and I’ve actually told her this… was that when I went to get a cup of tea on the first day of training during our break, was that ‘the cute English girl’ was at the table. I had to talk to her.”

“Aww,” Kyra sighed. That was the last category of the night. The couples soon retreated to their beds and after a few minutes of kissing and whispering from each corner the only sound heard in the cabin was dream-driven breathing.

“We should go out tonight,” Miles realized with most of the staff relaxing in the lounge the next evening. “It’s early enough yet…” Most of them had recently wrapped up some sort of dinner which put the hour at around seven p.m.

Jabari nodded silently, remembering their conversation at the logging operation during the previous afternoon. There were a few ‘yays’ and no one else vocally dissented so it was as good as settled.

“Who’s going to drive though?” Scott asked.

Miles shrugged. “I’ll drive.”

“Really?” Sophie asked. He nodded. She pushed his shoulder down so his ear was to her lips. She whispered, “Then I am getting pissed and you are getting laid tonight.”

“Oh yeah? How are you going to pull that one off?”

“You’ve got a decent back seat.” Miles reddened. He had not thought of his jeep as a consummation suite.

“Why haven’t we thought of that before?”

“I have.”

“You need to quit talking right now because I’d like to be able to stay standing for a while.” She laughed quietly.

“Oh, knock it off, you two,” Emma gasped. Sophie shot her a feigned look of bitterness.

“Yeah, all right. Let’s do it. I’ll drive, too. We’ll let the girls go wild,” Scott said.

“Cool. Couple hours?”

They all agreed. Back in school Miles would have never considered going to a bar before midnight but then again he usually never got out of bed before noon. The eight of them were hard-wired to get up at seven in the morning on a good day by that point. It was very rare to see anyone out and about after eleven on any evening.

Miles cleaned up the dishes he and Sophie had dirtied and then found a spot on one of the couches big enough for two. Seinfeld was on the T.V. and that seemed good enough for every one. They watched two episodes and then flowed into Drew Carey.

As they walked to the parking lot Miles realized aloud that they could have left two hours ago and not missed anything but rerunning sitcoms.

“Come on, now. We would look like townies if we went to the bar at seven. Going at nine at least makes us look like burnt-out party animals,” Scott shot back. Miles shrugged.

The bar they ended up at was one of the closest to the camp. It was an odd establishment for the area they were living in. Miles had been in a few bars of the same vein in rural Illinois towns, but he never expected such a hick-ish bar to be in New Hampshire. There were antlers and stuffed Pheasants on the wall, a jukebox made up largely of country and classic rock, and a lady bartender with blurry tattoos rendered in prison-blue ink.

Gerry and Jabari tackled the jukebox as Miles and Scott clinked together the first of the two pints of Budweiser they were allowing themselves that night.

‘Gloria’ was soon blaring from the arthritic speakers of the jukebox. The three middle-aged flannel sporting dudes at the bar eyed the newcomers with suspicion as the group pushed three small tables together and sat down. Gerri had a disposable camera with her and soon commenced flashing away. It did nothing for the locals at the bar and within an hour they had headed out the door.

The bartender, however, loved the group. It was probably more money than that bar had seen on a Thursday night in a long time, judging by the crowd they had uprooted.

She did not even have anything to say when Jabari grabbed a Pheasant from the wall and gave it one last flight around the jukebox with a Led Zeppelin soundtrack. He then proceeded to kiss the Elk mount on the wall beside the jukebox and offer it a beer. The moose declined. Gerri caught the best moments using 200 speed Fuji film.

After a few more rounds that they probably did not need they decided to call it a night. A twenty-minute drive put them back in camp at just after midnight. Miles drove his crew up to the cabins and turned back around to park in the lot outside the office.

“How are you doing, sweetie?”

“I’m tired. But…I don’t want to sleep with Scott and Kyra. Can we stay here?”

“I threw my big sleeping bag in the back.” He had parked in an obscure corner of the lot and was almost out of view of the office should they wake up after the office staff showed up in the morning.

“Thank you for driving. That was…good.” They climbed to the back of the jeep and after Miles popped the seat off its rear hinged they had a decent bed.

Once Sophie found Miles under the sleeping bag her tiredness was put on the back burner.

“Hmm. I thought you wanted to go to sleep.”

“I do. But I’m really horny.”

“You are drunk,” Miles laughed.

“Well, seeing as how we’ve done this once or twice before, you shouldn’t feel like you’re taking advantage of me.” She grabbed the uncontrollable part of him and rubbed it against herself. That was all it took.

Miles woke up and had to remember where he was. It was colder than he was used to, that was for sure. Sophie, of course, woke up immediately once Miles began stirring and put out a shivering yawn.

“It’s freezing in here,” she mumbled, and curled into Miles. “Again?” She groggily cried. There wasn’t much hesitation on her part, however.

“I’ve got to be the designated driver more often,” Miles sighed as Sophie did what she knew to do for Miles.

An hour later they emerged from the Cherokee and hoped no one in the office saw them as they walked across the parking lot. Under the assumption Scott and Kyra would still be asleep they went first to the staff lounge to get something to eat. Jabari was sitting on the couch with a huge bowl of honey nut Cheerios watching Fear Factor.

“Oh, my god.” He laughed. “You slept in the parking lot, didn’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” Miles rebuked.

“Man, you’re wearing the same clothes you wore to the bar last night.” Both Miles and Sophie blushed. “The things some of you go through to get some action. I’m almost not jealous.” Jabari laughed to himself and turned his attention back to Fear Factor.

The red-handed lovers split what was left of Sophie’s Special K at the kitchen table.

“You were having a good time last night,” Miles said to Jabari as he and Sophie sat on the couch next to his.

“Yeah, Probably. Did I make out with a moose?”

“It was an elk. And it shot you down.” Jabari laughed his huge laugh. “Oh, my God. We have to do that more often. We don’t need to go to New York or Boston for that shit. That bar was fun.” The other two agreed with him.

“Even Paul was almost normal last night. I mean, I actually talked to him for a few minutes.” Miles added.

“Yeah, man. Sometimes he’s cool. Like, the first couple of weeks, he was fine. But then something just happened. But last night he was all right. It’s weird. Oh well. You’ve got to have at least one odd dude. It would probably be boring otherwise. Just look at the real world.”

“Well if we’re basing it on that, you’re supposed to be much angrier, Jabari.”

“Wha-Man, shut the hell up!” He laughed.

“I mean, you don’t have anything with the African colors on it. A necklace, a shirt-“ Jabari threw a pillow at him. “I’m just saying…”

“Man, if you weren’t Mexican, I wouldn’t tolerate that shit.”

“Right, right. I mean, Si, Si.”

“Oh my God,” Sophie exclaimed. ‘I didn’t think anything could be worse than your English accent. I was wrong.”

“Oh! That’s your girl ripping on you! Sophie!” Jabari leaned his six-and-a-half foot frame over and slapped her five. “She put you in your place!” Jabari was grinning like a kid.

“Yeah, she does that a lot. I don’t know why I put up with it.”

“Uh, dude? Need I remind you you’re wearing the same clothes as last night? I could give a guess as to why you put up with it.”

“Jabari!” Sophie cried.

“Is that the best argument you’ve got?” Sophie only reddened further. “Exactly. You forget we all caught you in Boston. And we were nice then because we were all new to each other. But now I’m going to rip on you if you’ve got it coming. That’s just the kind of guy I am.”

“Ssshhh! I don’t think anyone else knows!” Miles whispered fiercely. It earned him a sock to the arm from Sophie.

“You’re no better. I almost think you’re proud to be getting laid.” Miles shrugged and grinned ridiculously. Sophie smiled back. “Harrumph. You’d better be.” They kissed cordially as not to make Jabari uncomfortable.

“Ooww, you’re so cute,” he mocked.

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.