I put on my good shoes, ironed a fresh pair of pants. I fastened my tie in a perfect half-Windsor knot. I regarded myself in the mirror.
"Perfectly presentable."I thought to myself. The word still sounded like a curse, although it didn't make me feel bitter like before. Nothing about me looked right. Those black shoes seemed to come untied at a moment's notice, wearing a belt tended to chafe my hips, and ties felt so weird around my neck. I remember someone had told me that hating to wear a tie means one was hanged in a previous life, but I never put stock in that crap. I hated to wear a tie because they were so damn silly.
"I cannot believe I am doing this." I thought to myself. I'm not sure what convinced me to come to Mom's fund-raiser. It was only two weeks before school started, and I honestly had other things I wanted to do. But, as much as I wouldn't admit it aloud, I did have the time. There would be plenty of time to see Jane and look at more of her art. Trent would have others gigs before I left, and, being that it was a Friday, I didn't have to tutor Quinn.
"Oh yeah, I remember why. Because you bargained for a deal." I reminded myself. Mom had asked me to attend the fund-raiser, and, unlike my usual denials, I asked her for a favor.
"Sure, I'll come." I had told her. "I'll even be the good little host so you don't have to do it all the time. But there's something else I wanted." I had promised that I would spend time with the family, and indeed, I did. During Dad's extra week off of work, I helped Mom prepare the new gallery, and my father and I learned many card games. I was surprised by his excellent poker face, and lost many hands against him. He was even better then Uncle Sebastian at keeping his cool. All the while, I enjoyed the time we spent together. But family together time did not involve multitudes of people, and I figured I could leverage something out of the deal if I was coming to the gallery.
"How did you convince me to do this?" Daria asked me. I met her at her house so that her parents could follow me to the gallery. Despite attending the gallery event, she was dressed in the same outfit as always. I wondered if she had no formal clothes. But the thought of Daria with high-styled hair horrified me enough so that the thought never stayed in my head for long.
"You were forced by your mother, and you didn't have anyone to help bail you out." I reminded. For my attendance, I was able to successfully negotiate my mother into inviting the Morgandorffer's to the gala, free of charge. Despite Mom's legendary greed when it came to that gallery, I think part of her really wanted to meet Daria's parents, and that was able to clinch the deal for me.
"Think about all the good things that could happen." I spoke seriously, although I still felt like I was teasing Daria a bit. "Your father trying to get some clients, your mother talking with the highball crowd she loves, Quinn pretending like she's some sort of art model." I regarded Daria. She stared at me as if she was two seconds away from snapping my neck.
"Stay for a half hour, then we'll find a place you can sleep off the rest of the event." I noted.
"Thank you." Daria replied. "What made you go to this event? I thought you hated the gallery."
"You asked me that question the second your parents told you they were going. And you've asked me seven times since then." I replied, not actually answering the question. Daria already figured out that I used mercenary tactics that would make her proud to score her family tickets, and I was merely obliging my end of the bargain. But somehow, admitting that to her felt like a defeat. Maybe she would call me elitist again.
"And hey, it's not my fault Jane didn't bail you out." I reminded. Daria shut up with that one. Jane had taken Trent to a gig upstate and wouldn't be back until tomorrow. When Daria told me that, I, truthfully, had no idea about it, and Mom had been planning on this day for at least two months. Daria didn't fight with me anymore about it. I was surprised at how well we were getting along. We'd argue non-seriously, the fights more a testing ground for our word snipes then any sort of game of pride.
"It's not perfect, and I suppose we still have some resentments towards each other. But hey, at least we're friends again." I thought, and I'm sure Daria felt the same way.
"Daria!" Helen stood at the doorway. "It's time to leave."
Once we reached the gallery, it was easy enough to find Mom. She and Dad were chatting up some guests that I had never met.
"Oh, Tom, there you are." Mom noted.
"We're not late." I replied. All of the family Morgandorffer was behind me, and I watched silently as my family dispensed with the introductions.
"So, Dad, Mr. Morgandorffer is a freelance marketing consultant." I expertly steered the conversation, making sure to leave nothing open-ended and let Jake Morgandorffer go off on a tangent. They had just gotten here; his eccentrics couldn't be blamed on the open bar this early.
"Why, yes, Tom did mention that, Jake. I know a few people who were thinking of altering their marketing plans. Why don't I introduce them to you so they can get a new perspective." My father was extremely polite, as he always was to new people. He gave a friendly nod towards Mr. Morgandorffer.
"Lead the way!" Mr. Morgandorffer still seemed rather excitable while Dad led him off to some other guests, but thankfully seemed tamer then usual. I wondered which of his family spiked his coffee. Probably all of them, at one point.
"Why, Katherine, that is such a lovely brooch." Mrs. Morgandorffer complimented.
"Why, thank you. And please, just Kay, if I may call you Helen." Mom and Mrs. Morgandorffer started conversing. I looked around to notice that Quinn had already disappeared, leaving me and Daria alone.
"That could have ended a lot differently." I noted with a slight chuckle to Daria.
"Oh, just wait. Give it an hour and someone will be drowned in the punch bowl."
"It's rum punch, I think. At least they won't feel anything. Want to check out the gallery."
"I'm just counting the minutes until I can drift off to Dreamland." Daria, blunt as always, noted.
"I know, it's not your thing. It's not mine either, but at least your family gets to have fun. And you were getting sick of warmed up frozen lasagna anyway." Daria still didn't seem amused.
"Relax, I know which rooms they aren't using. I'll let you out on the balcony on the second floor where there's some lawn furniture you can sleep on." Daria didn't say anything as I led the way.
"You're going to work the room?" Daria asked after I started to leave.
"Yeah, that's what I promised." I replied. Daria nodded, although she did seem a little down. Was that just me, or did she want me to stay with her, alone? It would have been more interesting then the gallery, that's for sure. But that was too awkward, even for me.
The party was every bit as boring as I imagined it to be. The pretense, the posturing, the desperate attempts at one-upmanship and alpha pack crap between rich people. But I smiled, I conversed. I racked my mind of everything I knew about art, which wasn't much. I cared more for the struggle to attain true art rather then the names of dead people. But my little bit of knowledge seemed to impress these sycophants, and I found myself inwardly laughing at the sheer stupidity of it. It was just like the cliques of high school.
"Wow, that depresses me more then I thought." I quietly noted. I wondered what the real world would be like. Hopefully not like that. When I decided I had enough posturing for a few minutes, I turned to look for a familiar face, and saw my mother and Mrs. Morgandorffer still talking. Had they been doing that the whole time? Probably not, but they seemed to be having a good time. I moved in closer to eavesdrop on their conversation, eager to hear what all the excitement was about.
"Tom has been so good to my girls. A boyfriend for my eldest and a tutor for my youngest. He was exactly what they needed. You must be so proud of him." Mrs. Morgandorffer was praising me, and I found myself uncomfortable. People only usually praised me when they wanted something.
"Well, that's Tom, he's always a giver. But Daria is such a lovely girl, and so intelligent. It's easy to see why Tom liked her." Mom started to praise Daria. I had told her not to mention Raft or Bromwell at all this night, and I was hoping she remembered not to cause a problem like that. But Mrs. Morgandorffer steered the topic elsewhere, and I didn't hear them bring it up.
As I listened to their praise, I started to remember what Elsie had said to me.
"All they ever talk about is Tom." Was what she had said to me. I at first dismissed the thought: Mom wasn't discussing Elsie just because Mrs. Morgandorffer had never met her. It was the same with Quinn; there was some context to mention her with, but Mom had never met Quinn before tonight. But as the night drug on, I heard my mother talk to other people. Like Mrs. Landon had told me months ago, mothers loved to talk about their children. When I heard my mother speak about her children, I realized that, although I didn't want to believe it myself, the only child my mother discussed was me. All of my accomplishments laid bare, told through the mouth of a proud mother. All mention of Elsie was asked of my mother, not the other way around.
"There's nothing to discuss about Elsie." Was my first thought. After all, what would Mom mention, that Elsie survived an overdose? But there was more to it then that. I didn't sense any malice on the part of my mother, but I could definitely sense why Elsie would feel neglected.
"And it's not your fault, but you feel anyway." I thought. "You're either very kind or a complete chump." I continued to mingle with the guests, but now I was distracted.
"Hey, Tom!" I heard Quinn call over to me. She certainly seemed to be having a good time here. I always figured she'd be more comfortable at a venue like this, with all these fancy people talking about nothing. Even though Quinn was trying to improve herself, she still had a long way to go to ditch the old Quinn.
"Are you having a good night." Quinn asked as we stepped outside, away from the noise of the party.
"These aren't really my kind of thing, but I suppose you have to do them on occasion. Your father seems to be enjoying himself." I answered. Mr. Morgandorffer was extremely animated talking with some of Dad's associates, although I'm not sure what it had to do with marketing plans.
"Oh, that's just Dad." Quinn dismissed playfully. She was used to her father's antics.
"And you?" I posed.
"It's...it's fun. I wish I knew more about art, though."
"Trust me, you already know more then they do. They quote names and dates and think themselves aficionados. A day watching Jane is more knowledge then these people will ever have." We took in the night sky for a moment.
"Ummm...Tom?" Quinn turned towards me, and she seemed nervous. She fidgeted a lot, her hair starting to fall out of place. I remained silent, completely clueless as to her intentions.
"Thanks." She finally got out.
"For tutoring?" I asked. "No big deal."
"Not just that." Quinn's nervousness seemed to disappear, and I wondered if she was changing the subject. "I mean thanks for showing me what I could do. I mean, I started seeing Jeffy at those shows he did and I figured out why he was doing so well, and then when I came over to Headshots to help out Stacy she followed my advice and she got a lot of great pictures."
"You see. It wasn't too bad. Now all you need to do is pick something you like and go from there." I replied. The topic faded, and Quinn's nervousness returned. She started to speak again, but became hesitant and nervous again. I think I knew what was on her mind, and I think I knew what had to be done.
"Quinn, I liked getting to know you this summer. You've changed a lot and bettered yourself. Before you were just Daria's flaky sister, but now you've got a brain and you're not afraid to use it. You'll do well your senior year of high school and then you'll go to college, real college, not some stupid party school. And I want you to keep in touch with me, and let me know how you are doing. Quinn, you're a wonderful friend, and being your friend was the highlight of my summer." I showered her with flattering words. Quinn's reaction was a quiet mix of relief, gratitude, and even a bit of confusion.
"Thanks." Quinn mentioned silently, as I rejoined the party inside.
I think I had an idea what Quinn was about to say to me. I had seen many women act that way around me. It was always the same; they were going to confess feelings for me. Although I did like to make the first move, it was awfully flattering when girls did so with me. But I wasn't about to go through it with Quinn. Ignoring the fact that she and I had less in common then Daria, I figured that Quinn was confused and unable to properly articulate what she wanted to say. I don't think she felt any sort of love for me: She held me and my knowledge in high regard; she appreciated the things I showed her. Perhaps she even had a bit of lust for me. But none of that was love. But Quinn had no idea how to detach that from love. After all, wasn't love to a high schooler like her just when a boy and girl dated? I didn't love Quinn romantically either, I just respected her ambition, her desire to grow, and her willingness to look at herself, acknowledge what was wrong and change it. I thought of Quinn as a friend, and honestly, I didn't want to screw that up by turning it into a relationship. I'd already done it with my past two relationships, and maybe that was part of my own problem.
"And besides, don't you have another relationship you want to attempt to repair before you leave for Bromwell?" My conscience told me. I nodded silently at it. I did. I had patched things up with Daria, mended the rift with my parents, and prevented a problem with Quinn. I just had one other person to deal with. Although, unlike the other relationships, I had no idea what I wanted out of this one.
The next day, I set out bright and early for a drive. I was going to visit my Aunt Adrian, my mother's sister, and the black sheep of the family. My mother and Aunt Adrian did not get along very well. I didn't fully understand the reason, but I managed to learn, all through second-hand sources, that it all started with my Uncle Keith's death. My mother grew reclusive and couldn't bear to talk about him, while Aunt Adrian was driven by it. She followed him into the military, even serving in the Gulf War. The last time I saw Aunt Adrian was at a family wedding several months ago, but before that, it had been years.
As much as Mom disliked her, though, Aunt Adrian was tough as nails, strict as hell, and never took no for an answer. She was the disciplinarian of the family, indeed, for our whole Sloane clan. She was the person to send the problematic Elsie too. I had called to make sure that I would be permitted to visit, and to my surprise, she encouraged it. I wondered what that could mean.
"You have no clue, and yet you're going to do it anyway. Aunt Adrian was tough with you all the time the rare times you saw her. What makes you think this will be any different?" I wondered to myself, but drowned the thoughts out with driving. This was worth doing.
"Thomas. You're late." Aunt Adrian reprimanded the second she answered my knock.
"Good to see you, Aunt Adrian." I ignored her. There would be no end to the insults the more we spoke.
"I am here to see Elsie. Where is she?" I asked her, in no mood for backtalk, although I was certain I'd get a lot of it.
"Watch your mouth." She cautioned. "You ever hear of saying please?" I did not answer her, and instead looked at her with a cold stare.
"She was cleaning the bathroom upstairs. I'll get her." Aunt Adrian marched up the steps while I took a seat at the table. Elsie returned a minute later.
"May I get back to my chores?" She asked my aunt. Normally, Elsie would never be that polite to anyone, only my aunt would garner such discipline.
"No. Your brother came to see you. You will sit down and speak with him." Aunt Adrian's orders were flat, as she excused herself.
"Why are you here? Have you come to gloat before you leave for college. Go right ahead. Laugh at Elsie whose stuck with Aunt Adrian." Elsie dared.
"Elsie, I came to see how you were." I ignored her and concentrated on what I wanted to say.
"Your concern is so pleasant." Elsie faked a smile as she jabbed me with her sarcasm. I wasn't going to get provoked.
"Listen, Elsie, I'm leaving for college in two weeks and I don't want things to be like this." I wouldn't dream of admitting weakness in front of Elsie. We were close in childhood, but extremely competitive, as most siblings were. We always had to be the best at something.
"Did you want me to say thank you for finding me? For saving me?" Elsie prodded.
"No. I wanted to say that I think I understand how you felt. About Mom and me getting all the glory. I went to the fund-raiser last night and that's all Mom talked about." Elsie didn't say anything. She was never used to be agreeing with her, or even speaking seriously to her.
"I'm not responsible for it." I continued. "And I'm not responsible for you starting on what you did."
"So what was the point in coming here?" Elsie was annoyed. "You're just an echo."
"Look, Elsie, I'm not going to apologize for anything, I'm blameless in this. But I don't want you to just be hating me your whole life just because I succeeded at things. It had nothing to do with you."
"Whatever you intended, that's what happened." Elsie returned. It seemed she wasn't going to give an inch. So I stopped thinking for a moment. Stopped turning this into another one of our sibling rivalries, and I started to speak from the heart.
"Elsie, if it truly bothers you that much that I succeeded, why didn't you just make your own successes?" I posed a serious question, one that, I hoped, Elsie wouldn't just deflect childishly. Elsie didn't answer right away, which made me a bit thankful. Perhaps she was considering it.
"I tried." She replied. "I tried, but it wasn't good enough. I can't study like you. I can't delight a crowd like you. And I can't even rebel like you."
"Were you really bothered by how well I did at school?" I asked. It almost seemed redundant to ask, but the answer here would be very important. Elsie looked like she was about to answer, but then she looked straight into my eyes before she spoke, and my stare took the words away. I stared at her as fiercely as I could, like Aunt Adrian did when she gave orders, like Uncle Sebastian at the chessboard. Like Jane at a painting. Like Daria whenever she saw an injustice. Elsie didn't speak for another moment.
"You abandoned me." She looked down at the ground at she said it, her voice soft.
"Huh?"
"You didn't need me." She stated. Need Elsie? I thought things over in my head before I came to what I thought was the conclusion.
"You mean when we were younger." I stated not as a question, but a fact. When we were younger, Elsie and I were inseparable. She always followed my commands as we played, and we could play for hours on end. When we played, our parents would barely watch us, Mom reading silently on the porch, making the occasional glance towards the back yard. When we were playing as kids, Elsie and I were free. But when we grew up, I did, indeed, drift away from her. She was less a playmate and more a whiny little obligation. In truth, the first time I went to the Zon was when I was trying to get away from her. Eventually, she just stopped trying as she got older.
I had thought it was just age. It was true, I didn't need her. I was old enough to find something else when I didn't need my playmate. She was still young. Between me and Mom's showering praise of only one child, I could see what it felt like for her to feel neglected. That still didn't excuse taking drugs, but she was desperate, and lonely. God knows I sure did some stupid things this summer, when loneliness ate at me.
"Necessity or not, I don't hate you. I never have, Elsie. We just grew up and drifted apart. That's natural, no one's fault." This was the only thing I could think to say. Elsie didn't reply to me, which surprised me. I would have expected sarcastic swipes. I probably would have were our positions reversed.
"Anyway, you're not giving yourself enough credit. You still have your faux jadedness and attitude even after staying with Aunt Adrian for a week. I probably would have turned into a drone by now." I noted. Elsie chuckled. Was it satisfaction? Was it a badge of honor for her? I didn't know. But a little self-depreciation was worth it to get her to finally smile. It was a start, at least.
"Time's up." Aunt Adrian returned to the room. "Back to work, Elsie. You need to get that toilet spotless by 1300. Get on it, ASAP!" Elsie went back upstairs, and Aunt Adrian took a seat.
"It took a lot of balls to come here." She noted. I chuckled. Years of Army life had made her crude as a club, but it always made me laugh to hear her talk like that. Only on the inside of course; laughter would have made her angry.
"I wouldn't have the chance otherwise." I noted. "Besides, I wanted to do it. I would have come even if you didn't let me."
"You are a lot like Keithy, you know." Aunt Adrian admitted, the first time I had ever seen her speak softly. "He said that no one is perfect, but a soldier does all he can no matter what it does to himself." I didn't know how to respond to that. I never knew Uncle Keith, Mom wouldn't discuss it, and Aunt Adrian never put stock in the past. I probably would never learn.
"I just did what I figured was right. I wonder if I got through to her." I mused aloud.
"If you're talking to me, you should look at me directly, and if you're musing, keep it quiet." Aunt Adrian ordered, returning to her normal tone.
"And anyway, you did. You got through to her before you came here. All she ever talks about is Tom. You might be able to set her right in time." I thanked Aunt Adrian, and then left. I wanted to get back home so I could meet Daria for pizza. But when I glanced back up at Aunt Adrian's house before leaving, I saw Elsie, watching me leave, from one of the windows. I used my free hand to wave out the car window, and Elsie immediately ducked out of sight.
As I drove back home, I knew my summer was over. I had only two weeks to get ready for Bromwell, and their five-day orientation before any actual classes started. So much had changed over the course of these few months, and so much more would change. But now I had nothing tying me down back at home.
"Here comes a new type of Sloane, Bromwell."
