Chapter 12: A Work in Progress

"Try not to worry so much about it," Richard said gently as they pulled up to Sloane Manor. "From what you tell me, this little schism was a long time in the making. Your appearance was simply the catalyst, not the cause."
Elsie looked hopeful. "Then you think she really meant it when she asked me to that party?"
"Of course."
"Good. That just leaves Mother," she sighed. "I'm always here for the Fourth. How will I ever break it to her?"
"You're the responsible sibling, aren't you?" Richard winked. "You have leverage. The Lawndale party is at seven, fireworks at the Club start at ten; why not do both? Your friend is kind enough to give you a slice of her life, as it were; now's your chance to return the favor. I'm sure Mrs. Sloane would be thrilled to see you having someone over-even if they're not from school. Quite frankly, so am I. I'll even put in a good word for you."
Elsie gave him one of her rare smiles. "That's perfect. You're a lifesaver, Richard. Thank you." She kissed him on the cheek and jogged up to the house. She had stayed at the Morgendorffers' a bit longer to console Quinn and chat with Stacy and Tiffany, though neither of them were very stimulating company. She was lucky to make it back in time for dinner.
Tom waved her into the study when she entered. He was sitting disconsolately in front of their father's financial books, clearly relieved to have company. "Hey, I was wondering where you ran off to. Don't tell me-you just had to do more shopping in Lawndale, huh? I told you the place isn't so bad."
Elsie hesitated. She didn't want to risk hurting his feelings, but at this point, didn't he deserve the truth?
"Well, it would be safe to say that Lawndale featured this afternoon," she said cautiously, pulling a book blindly off the shelf and thumbing through it. It was Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72 by Hunter S. Thompson. When did Father add that to his collection?
"Oh? Do tell." He swiveled the chair around and leaned forward. "I could use the entertainment."
Elsie flipped pages without really seeing the words. "You remember those things I said, about how unwise it is to get attached to people outside our circle. How they don't understand us, and it's always too difficult to keep those relationships up, and it was silly of you to even try."
Tom winced. "You can move on to the good part anytime, Els."
"Well, I suppose I'll have to lay off or be a complete hypocrite." she sighed.
If he he leaned forward any more, he would fall right out of the chair. "You met someone?"
"Remember the mall, when I had to run one more errand after you spoke with Quinn?"
"Sure."
"Well...I happened to run into her again, and since her friends had left her with all those shopping bags to take out, I did my good deed for the day and helped her. From there, we just started talking and, well..."
Tom's good mood abruptly died. "You and her? Elsie, please tell me you're joking."
She abandoned all pretense of reading and went to replace the book. "I'm not. We hit it off, some way or another."
"She froze me out, she wouldn't even let me talk to Daria, and she managed to talk my ear off the whole time!" he protested. "And now you're hanging out with her? Why? What could you possibly have in common besides wanting to get under my skin?"
That made her angry. "In case you've forgotten, young Thomas-"
"Don't call me that!"
"-It's not always about you. Besides, I thought you wanted me to make friends."
"With the one person who's been driving me nuts the last few weeks? That's not what I had in mind! I just broke up with her sister and thought it was all over with. Now I'm supposed to..." he stopped when he saw she hadn't turned back from the shelves and her shoulders were going stiff. "Elsie?"
"One friend. One person my age who's not from Fielding," she said in a still voice, spitting the last word out like spoiled milk. The 'jaded rich girl' act was over. "That's what I care about. And all you can do is make me the villain in your little soap opera?!"
Tom stood up. "Look, Elsie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...Elsie, wait."
"I should have known I couldn't trust you!" Elsie erupted. She stormed out of the room, her face red. He heard her door slam upstairs.
Tom sank back into the chair. "Damn it."
She must care about Quinn even than she let on. Or she hated school even more than she let on. Maybe it was both.

"Jake, put the paper down," Helen strolled briskly into the living room. "That boy who's been tutoring Quinn is on his way over."
"You mean the boy who's been dating Quinn, right?" Jake took a last look at the sports section.
"No, Jake. Tutoring."
Jake stared at her for a moment. "Oh! Ha ha! Good one, honey! Boy, Jake Morgendorffer sure appreciates a funny joke."
"I'm serious, Jake. He came over here last week, remember? When we were both working late. But we're both here now and I want to make sure we have our game plan together."
"Oh right, I remember. The guy with the really high threshold for pain! At least that's what Daria said."
Helen counted off important points on her fingers. "I want you to stay relaxed, stay calm, and don't bother them while they're studying."
Jake was staring off into space again. "She said he must be okay with makeovers and fashion talk during the sessions...you don't suppose he's one of those guys, do you?"
"Jake, she was joking!"
"I know!" Jake lied. "HA HAAAA! So what's the game plan?"
"When he knocks, just let him in and don't bother him by acting all nervous and crazy."
"Oh honey," he scoffed. "I don't care if he's...you know...that way. Is he, do you think?"
Helen groaned. As if on cue, the doorbell rang.
Unfortunately, Jake was closer.

David Sorenson blinked in surprise as the door flew open to reveal a middle-aged guy in a nice suit with just a little too much energy. "Jake Morgendorffer! How ya doin', young man?"
"Great, thanks. I'm here for-"
"I know, just a second," the man turned back and yelled up the upstairs. "QUINN! Your date is here!"
"Actually, I'm her tutor."
"Ohhhhh, so that's you. Well, I hope you're ready for a real girl's night in!" Jake winked.
"What?"
"JAKE..." growled an even more professional and stressed out woman. She practically shoved her husband aside. "Hello! So sorry we missed you last week! You'll have to excuse my husband. He's just insane."
"Hey!" Jake protested.
"Our daughter's education really is important to us. We've all just...fallen a bit behind, I suppose."
"Yeah! What do you think? Is she ready for Middleton yet?"
Middleton? I wouldn't recommend that place to my remedial students. David balked slightly at the parental onslaught. They seemed so intent on talking to him that he couldn't even get through the door.
David cleared his throat loudly. "Well, there's still quite a bit of work to do, Mr. and Mrs. Morgendorffer. So, if you wouldn't mind letting me in..."
"Why, sure!" Jake grinned. "No bigots in this family! Not like my old man. Always judging everybody! 'Don't play with those kids next door, Jakey! They're Jehovah's Witnesses.' Well, they were nice to me, dammit!"
"Muh-OMMM! Dad! Stop 'interring' my tutor!" Quinn finally appeared and shooed them away. David was never so happy to see her.
"You mean 'interrogating', Quinn. But at least you tried to use one of our words from last week."
Quinn grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. "Don't look to the left or right. Nothing to see here. Just run for the dining room. No one ever uses it."
"I can see how that would be beneficial."
"What's that? The new yogurt on TV?"
"No."
They walked briskly through the kitchen. Quinn's sister was standing at the door to the dining room. She was serious, neutral, and modestly dressed; the exact opposite of his pupil. David caught a glimpse of the 'KEEP OUT! CUTE GIRL STUDYING' sign on the dining room door as she opened it for them.
"Take cover. I'll hold them off," the sister said, referring to their parents.
"Thanks, Daria." Quinn pulled him inside. When the door shut behind them, she dropped into a chair with her head in her hands. "I'm really sorry, David. Oh my God, I could die! They always embarrass me like this! I don't know how you can stand to come back here."
"Don't feel bad on my account. I'm used to it. Now, are you ready to pick up with the Middle Ages?"
"Are we STILL on the Middle Ages? God, things were so depressing then, and everyone was so short. Plus I really wanted to call Elsie, and she goes to bed so early!"
David waved his finger at her. "Quinn, remember our motto..."
"Fine," Quinn heaved a sigh. "I care. I want to do better."
He smiled. "That's why I come back here."
Quinn smiled back, with an odd fluttery feeling in her chest.
He's kind of cute.

"I messed that up, didn't I?" Jake asked.
His wife continued rummaging through her briefcase, not answering.
"Damn it. I always do that."
"Jake, it wouldn't happen if you'd just concentrate on what you're doing. I swear, I've told you that a thousand times."
Jake brooded silently. She was right. But he couldn't concentrate. Mad Dog was always out there, even if he was dead now-it made no difference in his mind.
His father always ruined everything.
Jake picked up the newspaper. There was one thing he understood about his oldest daughter, even if he never mentioned it: he knew why she read. She did it to give herself something else to think about, to escape.
He checked the stock exchange. Grace, Sloane, and Page was up three percent. Landon Enterprises was steady. Ultra Cola was down. And as long as he kept reading this, his father was nowhere.
Perfect.