23. Chapter 23
Chapter 23
Rose
I don’t get another letter from Milo on Thursday or Friday. There’s a big corporate event where a lot of people in management from different locations have flown in, and he mentioned he’d be busy with that. Still, a lonesome longing wells in my chest. It comes and goes throughout the day. And every time I leave my desk and walk past the HR room with the mailboxes, it comes surging back again.
We’ve started to text, though, which is fun in and of itself. Sometimes flirtatious. Sometimes goofy and casual. And sometimes we message back and forth about our favorite fantasy series. And when he asks how Callum is doing, I send him a selfie with him that I took this morning with the caption of Twinners! Barbecue Dads Unite!
Yes, I looked like a Barbecue Dad with my flannel and my belted, acid washed jeans. I needed to go grab some diapers from the store and threw on the only clean, non-work outfit I could find. So I happened to look like a man flipping burgers in my backyard and thought it was funny. Next thing I know, I’ve got Callum in his too-big jeans and flannel, too.
I pull up the selfie again and marvel at how perfect my little boy is. His chubby cheeks, his bright brown eyes, and long lashes. His row of white, crooked, baby teeth.
It feels so good having him here in the same building with me. Knowing I can pop in whenever I get a little break, even just to check on him when he doesn’t know I’m there, fills me with a level of peace and stability that I haven’t really felt most of my life.
How lucky am I? I’ve got a good, stable, full-time position with benefits and free childcare in the most gorgeous mountains—one that, with any luck, will help me save up some money for nursing school. I have a beautiful, charming, and intelligent son. And I have Milo.
But what is Milo to me, exactly?
Milo: an intensely interesting and fun, yet temporary, distraction.
There. That’s what he is. A distraction from the heaviness of life. A person who loves spending time with my son and who is a strong, positive role model for him. I know Callum is still really young, and I was hesitant to introduce them, but Milo’s goodness is going to have an impact on him. I know it.
Liking Milo feels like a delightful treat.
Except it’s weird to call Milo a “treat” or a “snack.” I guess it’s sexist, even if I never say it aloud. I don’t mean it to be, and I see him as much more than that. I do. He’s got a depth that surprises me. He’s real and honest. He’s intelligent, both emotionally and in the classic sense.
Saying I’m drawn to him is like saying that outer space is big. Like, duh! I miss him throughout the day while we’re both working. If I happen to catch a lucky glimpse of him, we make eye contact from across the room and stare at each other like we’re keeping the world’s best, most delightful little secret.
And I smell his scent of clean, bright, spicy cologne in the air when he’s not around. I remember the taste of his lips in the emergency room all those months ago, and it gives me those tingly sparks of joy—like that moment you see a rainbow. Surprise and wonder. Or like opening a new jar of peanut butter and slicing your knife through the creaminess for the first time.
That’s how being around Milo makes me feel.
I don’t want to end things when I move, but there is no other way.
And now I’m smiling again because he texts me two of those online quizzes, a “Which Rebecca Yarros Character are You?” and one about which Harry Potter house you’re in. I have to laugh because I’m Ravenclaw through and through and have known that for years. With my thirst for knowledge and wisdom, it’s basically half my identity. But do I take the quiz anyway and share my results with him with a “glad to know I’m still in Ravenclaw!?”
Of course I do.
I laugh when he sends his results because he’s in a tie for Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. A perfect blend of honorable and enchanting.
Of course.
The day runs smoothly except for my mom calling to ask me to make some freezer meals for my aunt who’s having surgery next week. I tell her I can, but when my sister calls to ask if I’ve changed my mind about investing in her new peptide business, I tell her I can’t.
Besides my family’s calls, I’ve had very pleasant and warm thoughts of Milo to keep my mind busy.
I’m so consumed with thoughts of him that I don’t notice Darla, Blaine’s mom, in the lobby until I’m only a few feet away from her. She’s sitting on one of the couches. I feel my brows knit together.
She opens her mouth, but I speak quickly to stop her. “Darla, hey. I’m surprised to see you. I’d asked you to let me know when you’re coming.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Darla says, her face mirroring mine with the concerned brow. “It’s just . . . Can we talk?”
I stifle a sigh. I’m tired and my feet hurt, and I don’t have time for this.
But are her eyes red? Has she been crying?
“Sure. We can talk for a couple of minutes. Is something wrong?”
“I really am sorry,” she says. “I get in this place where I don’t plan ahead. I just act, you know?” She walks to the corner of the lobby where it’s quieter.
I reluctantly follow her. “What’s wrong, Darla?”
“I’m just wondering if you’d be willing to consider getting back together with Blaine?” Darla breathes out long slow breath and then jabs her thumbs near her eyes, shooting out a breath in frustration. “I feel like if the three of you can become a family, all will be well.”
This woman took care of Callum for his first year of life while I was at work trying to learn how to put one foot in front of the other. My heart sinks into my stomach. I know her heart is in the right place, but this is out of line.
“If Blaine wants to try to get back together, he needs to be the one to talk to me about that. The thing is, he doesn’t. And I don’t, either. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing you can do about that.”
“He’s depressed.” Her voice cracks. “Could you maybe talk to him?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. A friend of his should be the one to do that, or even better, a therapist.”
Her face falls, but she nods her head. “I thought I’d ask, you know?”
“Blaine and I broke up a long time ago. He chose to sign away his rights to Callum. I didn’t ask him to, but it’s for the best. He’s going to find someone someday and then you’ll be glad he and I broke up.” My spine straightens and I place a hand on her shoulder.
“I wish he’d stepped up and become the man you deserve,” she says, her eyes filling with tears. “Can I say hello to Callum before you go home?”
“For just a bit.” I turn to go to Childcare but then turn back around. “And Darla? If you come to see me again without notice, you won’t be able to see him. I’m sorry, but it’s a boundary that I have. That said, please know that I do want you in his life.”
For the longest time, I felt beholden to this woman. In the beginning, I’d wanted her to like me because I liked Blaine. Then it became a sort of I’m sorry your son and I are having a baby out of wedlock. I knew the whole situation worried her, made her concerned about the future welfare of her son and grandson. And then when she took care of Callum during his first year so I could work? I’m so grateful we got to have that.
But things have shifted inside of me. I no longer feel like I owe her, that I have something to prove to her. I see her sadness, and I feel empathy for the tough situation she’s in. But I need to move forward in my life.
Henry, Milo’s brother appears. He’s not wearing a security uniform, but I recognize him because he was introduced at the meeting I attended for new hires.
Besides, he’s as handsome as all of the Tates are, so he’s not easily forgotten. Although, I realize, with a start, that Milo is where it’s at for me. His affable, calm nature. The way he looks when he’s stacking blocks with Callum. Everything about him screams to me, reaches for me with safe arms.
“Hey, Rose.” Henry’s scowling.
I wonder how he knows my name, then I remember I’m wearing a nametag.
“Hi,” I say. “You’re Henry, right? Security Executive Officer for Tate International?”
Something blips in his face, an element of surprise. He nods and then glances at Darla. “Is everything okay?” He crosses his enormously muscle-bound arms across his chest and widens his stance.
“This is Darla, a . . . friend of mine.”
“Nice to meet you, Darla,” Henry says with a nod. “Rose, let me know if you need anything.” Henry has a commanding presence. He leaves us but stays nearby. It’s as if he senses my distress and wants to make sure I’m okay.
I pick up Callum, kissing him on his squishy neck and cheeks. Darla takes a turn with him, telling him how much she loves him. A lump forms in my throat. Callum didn’t ask for this, to not get to have a father in his life or a grandmother who enjoys all the privileges of grandmotherhood. Darla didn’t ask for this, either.
A few minutes later, we say our goodbyes and I go to the parking garage. I get Callum buckled in his car seat and turn on some Baby Mozart, which is probably calming me more than him.
I miss Milo. I know he’s been busy, but does he know that I miss him? Have I told him that?
I know we only have a short time together until I move. But I don’t want to have regrets when I’m in school, regrets that I could have spent as much time with him as possible and didn’t.
I wasn’t kidding when I told Darla I had a lot to do tonight. And there’s only one person I want to ask to help me.