When I was a kid, I really enjoyed trips to the cove, just like any other kid enjoyed a day at the beach. As I got older, the place became less of a retreat and more of a painful obligation. Aunt Mildred was definitely pleasant, but she was the epitome of old money and pretentious snobbery. Never worked a day in her life, and didn't intend to anytime soon. Any conversation with her was akin to walking on razor blades barefoot.

As if that wasn't bad enough, my Rustmobile would have never made the four hour trek up there. So the entire family Sloane all had to pile into one car and make the long journey. Under normal circumstances, I would never have allowed Elsie to sit that close to me for such an extended period of time, not to mention the boredom of sitting in the car for so long.

My father never conversed when he was driving, and Mom preferred to take in the scenery. Elsie ignored me, and I was thankful. I may have been stuck in a car with my family, but at least we could ignore each other, although I never understood why we went to the cove to do that. That's all we did at home.


"Hello, Angier, Kay." Aunt Mildred greeted us.

"Hello, Aunt Mildred." Mom smiled at her.

"And how are my little Tom and Elsie?" She turned towards us. She looked the exact same as I had always known her, wearing so much makeup to disguise her age.

"She needs an excavation crew to get ready for bed." I sniped to myself. I remember commenting on that to Daria. I don't remember her response to it, but I remember it had something to do with Cleopatra.

"Hi, Aunt Mildred." I replied. She was actually my mother's aunt, but she always seemed to get upset if I called her Great Aunt Mildred. Probably another desperate bid to stay young, although she missed that wagon about 50 years ago. I hauled my suitcase into my room and started to unpack, taking my time so as to occupy myself and avoid the dreaded family time.

"Tom." As I exited my room, I was greeted by my uncle Sebastian, my dad's younger brother. When I was younger, I always thought it was strange that both my mother and my father's family would come up to the cove, but the house was certainly big enough, and Mom's family and Dad's were really close.

"Are you ready for a rematch?" He smiled. My uncle and I often played checkers, chess, and other games of skill. I had been beating everyone else in my family ever since I was 10, and he was the only one who could match me now. It was the only sort of fun to be had at the cove.

"You're on." I smiled. No one would interrupt me during such family time except for Elsie, and she was easy enough to blow off.

Uncle Sebastian decided on chess, which was fine with me. I had a harder time winning as chess then I did at checkers, and that meant I'd have to work harder to win, not to mention a longer game meant more time away from the family. Family members stopped by to watch our game every so often. Uncle Sebastian would acknowledge them, I stared solely at the board. Only Mom acknowledged me directly.

"Tom, it looks like you're doing well."

"Hi, Mom." I continued to look at the board.

"How is the game going?" She asked. She knew nothing about the game of chess.

"I will win in four turns." I replied. There was no way I could win or lose in that few turns, but the last time we played chess, Mom distracted me and I gave away my strategy, causing me to lose.

"Alright, dear. Just let me know when you're done." Mom disappeared, and I returned to the game.

"I guess things aren't going well at home." My uncle told me once we were alone. If I didn't know better, I would think he was distracting me from the game. But no, Uncle Sebastian often prodded this way. These games were our only sort of bonding.

"We have a game to play." I responded tersely, taking one of his rooks. Uncle Sebastian was more tolerable then Dad, but not by much. He was in his rich guy world just like the rest of them. He still went to Bromwell, and still donated to the school, although it was Edgar, my dad's older brother, who donated the wing. He couldn't help with my problems.

"You're losing your touch. Check. That move was basic." He casually insulted. 'Basic' was a put down worthy of Daria when it came to my chess playing, although she and I never played a game together.

"Things are going just fine at home." I answered his statement. "Mom plans some family activity, Dad blows it off for work, Elsie ducks out, I don't see the point because half the family's gone, so Mom goes to the gallery board, where they all beg for her approval. She plans some big event to get us all to come there, so we can avoid each other in public. And then I still don't go because it misses the entire point."

"What does your father and sister have to do with you." My uncle asked. Nothing, I admitted silently. The art shows, and balls, and all that fancy crap I had a pathological reason to avoid, but not the small, silent things.

"Family outings without a family?" I returned. I had gotten out of check and set myself up for a queen sacrifice, a tactic I had never before employed on Uncle Sebastian. He saw through it.

"You're too obvious, Tom." He told me. "Looks like I'm going to win again." He set up a clever maneuver, a move I almost never saw coming. Too busy was I with the queen sacrifice, I never saw his move.

"That's mate." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'll do better next time."

"You will if you keep practicing." Sebastian praised. And just like that, our game, and our conversation, was over. Why couldn't the rest of my family be this way?


After the chess match, I decided to take a walk on the beach. I did like that private beach, even now, as an adult. The sand was always warm, the sound of the waves was calming, it was perfectly serene. I always did love the peace of nature, probably the reason why I so enjoyed camping and hiking. When things were quiet, I often found my mind drifting to Daria, Jane, or Bromwell. But with the sounds of nature, I could have no thoughts, everything was somewhere else.

I took my sneakers and socks off and started to walk down towards the water, straying far away enough to not get my pant cuffs wet.

"Maybe Jodie's right. Maybe I am just thinking too hard about things. God knows ever since the breakup I've been doing nothing but that." I allowed my thoughts to wander. I didn't think about this crap at all before the breakup, and that seemed like an entire world ago. Bromwell started to appear in my mind, but it quickly became blotted out by thoughts of Daria.

"Maybe I could at least talk to Daria. Give her a ring, see how she is." We said we'd keep in touch, and God knows things can't get worse between us. I'll just let any of her snipes roll off me. I'd dealt with worse from her before, back when Jane and I first started to get to know each other. And without a shot of whiskey, I'd probably have more patience.

"Tom! There you are." I heard a voice call to me. It was my mother, and I realized that I had completely forgotten what she said during the chess game. Not that it surprised me. When I focused on the game, I couldn't remember anything else. But Mom would know that, I think.

"Oh, hi, Mom." I played dumb, a brutally effective strategy.

"Tom, do you think you could make it to gala we're throwing Fourth of July weekend?" She asked pleasantly, just as she did whenever she asked me to an event. I still don't know why, for the life of me, why she persisted in trying to get me to come to these events. I never attended when she asked.

"The gallery is throwing a party to help raise money for a new gallery for paintings. It'd be lovely if you could attend." Mom informed. It seemed that the gallery was always trying to raise money. Why didn't the rich folks just donate? Or did that require friendly support. They were patronizers of the arts, not patrons. At least that's what Jane said.

"Don't people usually come with dates for that?" I strategically reminded my mother that I was single at the moment.

"Tom, you're not buying tickets." Mom replied.

"Anyway, I strongly doubt it. There wouldn't be much for me to do there, and I'd probably just screw up and say something is impressionist when it's really cubist and completely mortify you." I was joking, but I said my denial in a completely serious tone.

"Tom, that would never happen."

"The mortified part or the mixing up the genres part?" I continued to joke, but my mother was serious.

"Both of them. Tom, please reconsider. Ever since you broke up with Daria, you've been moody and we..."

"We never see each other." Mom's broken record had been annoying me. I normally would never interrupt her.

"Tom, this is our last summer together before you go to Bromwell." Mom pleaded. "Can't we at least spend some time together?"

"Isn't that what the cove is for?" I asked. "And hey, we can't have family together time without the family. Or has Dad forgotten that I'm going to college?"

"Tom!" Mom was genuinely shocked with my tone, I even shocked myself with how harsh I was being.

"Mom, let's face it, Dad isn't exactly the most involved person. I've gone almost two months without even speaking to him, and seeing him is basically passing glimpses in the hallway. I've counted, I know."

"Tom, you know he has obligations."

"Yes, Mom, I do. He has his obligations to the firm, you have yours to the gallery and to the country club. I'm fine with that, I've been fine with that for a long time now. But Dad is the same completely distant person I've known since I was a kid. He's not interested in spending time with me before college starts. I could drop off the Earth and he wouldn't notice."

"Tom!" Mom was surprised at my scathing remarks.

"Mom, when we're all together, all we do is ignore each other. Dad finds the nearest casual acquaintance and drills them on politics so he doesn't have to be seen with us. You make your rounds to make sure all the guests are having a good time like a good host. Elsie hits on all the men with cars so they can take her for a ride. And when we're together, Elsie makes sour comments which upsets Dad, those two argue, you mediate, and I disappear." Mom seemed depressed that I mentioned that, and I briefly thought of backpedaling. But I couldn't. Not because I didn't want to make her feel better, but because I honestly didn't know what to say.

"Tom, you asshole." I thought to myself, the accusation Mom would never say. "Why'd you have to go and say something like that. This is exactly what Mrs. Landon told you not to do."

"I can't help it if we aren't as close as we are." Mom replied. "We all have our lives, Tom, and we try to live up to those obligations as best as we can."

"Mom." I stopped thinking. "Those galas, and parties, and all those events bore me to tears. I hate going to them because the people are bland and insipid, and whenever I see you there, you've always got that look on your face that tells me you know I'm bored. At least when I'm not there, you don't have to worry about that." This the truth, as nicely as I could figure it.

"Look, I'm going to go." I noted. I dashed off back to the house.


When I reached the house again, I realized that now was the time to call Daria. Mom wouldn't tell anyone about our argument, except for maybe Dad, and he wouldn't care. I can't remember the last time my father lectured me. After all, it would take too much time away from work. I needed to contact someone whose opinion I respected, and, unlike Jane, someone who conflicted enough with their parents.

"Hello?" Daria answered the phone, to my surprise. Typically, Quinn was the one who usually answered all of the calls.

"Hello, Daria."

"Is this Tom?" She asked.

"Yes. How are you?"

"Eh, I'm fine. Applying for scholarships and the like. Mom seems to think it matters."

"Hey, at least she's not sending you to that stupid camp like she did last year."

"Don't remind me." Daria noted. "Are you at the cove?"

"Yeah, how you'd know?"

"You always go to the cove this week."

"Good point. Listen, I wanted to ask you something." I briefly thought of relaying my problems with my mother, but I bit my tongue. I knew I couldn't ignore how we last left ourselves.

"Hey, Daria, I wanted to talk about last week." There was silence on her end. What that meant, I couldn't tell.

"Listen, about Karen, I don't want you to worry about her or anything."

"I'm not worried." Daria's voice sounded in the same monotone. "It's good that you're dating again."

"Daria, we might be on the phone, but I can tell when you're lying." I noted to myself. As if our previous meeting hadn't given it away, Daria was pretty bad at lying to me.

"I'm not planning on dating her, so don't worry about me rushing off and doing something stupid."

"Good. You're plenty capable of stupid things on your own." An insult, but I let it pass off.

"We all make mistakes. I just didn't want some grope-fest to get in the way of our relationship." I informed.

"A grope-fest got us into our relationship." She reminded.

"Yeah, but that time I wasn't tipsy." I non-seriously defended. I was surprised by how calm I was speaking to Daria. I may have only had one drink, but maybe booze and I were not meant to be friends.

"Tom, don't worry about it. You made out with someone, I happened to be there. If we were dating, it would have been a problem, but we weren't, so it's not."

"And I suppose we'll just ignore the sniping then, huh?" I noted.

"Daria?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, we should." She replied. I knew she was lying again.

"Hey, if you're still angry about it..."

"Are you?" She reversed. I admitted, I was still pretty mad at her.

"I'm over it." I lied. I didn't want to let this get between us. Not now, when I wasn't certain whether or not Daria wanted to go for pizza or rip my face off.

"I am too." Daria lied too.

"Daria, I know that's not true." I challenged.

"Likewise." She quickly sniped.

"Damn." I thought.

"Look, Daria, I just went out and met a girl I thought was fun. It wasn't going to work out because she was too aggressive."

"Yeah, you love making the first move, don't you."

"Hey!" I growled. "I don't recall you complaining." I hated when Daria blamed me for the kiss in the car. I already blamed myself for it, I wasn't about to have her, another guilty party, compound it on me. There was silence on Daria's end of the phone.

"Look, Daria, I think maybe we should get together and talk." I proposed. "I think we really need to dig up a lot of things before we go to college."

"Is this some kind of come-on."

"I'm better at come-ons then that, and no. I don't want to date you again."

"Isn't that a pleasant thing to say." Daria noted.

"You wanted me to say that I wanted to get back together?" I accused.

"Tom, I think we probably shouldn't. It's too early."

"Daria, all we do is fight. I at least want to be on good speaking terms if we're going to stay friends." I tried to be conciliatory.

"Maybe some other time." Daria replied. I grew incensed. This was just like much of the time when we were dating. I tried and tried, and she would just blow me off.

"Screw you, Daria!" I angrily slammed the phone. I huffed angrily. Thankfully, there was a phone in my room, so that no one was around to hear me. Except, of course, perhaps one eavesdropper. But I looked outside of the door and Elsie was nowhere to be found. I laid back on the bed wishing the week would go faster. Even consistent chess tournaments couldn't end this horrible week from Hell quickly enough.

"Stupid Daria." I angrily cursed in my mind. "Stupid Mom. Stupid Aunt Mildred and this stupid house." I laid back down on my bed, and let my eyes shut.

"Stupid Tom." I thought as a tear formed out of the corner of my eye.