Chapter Twenty-Four Milo
Twenty-four
Milo
It has occurred to me, more than a few times and somewhat against my will, that I am irrevocably in love with Prue.
Like the moment I put an extra spoonful of broccoli on my plate at dinner last week, for example.
Or the many times I’ve walked past Bertha in the driveway once her two-week vacation was up and chose to drive into town in Nik’s van instead.
Or when I checked my blood pressure at the pharmacy last week.
I’d never worried about living longer until I met someone I wanted to live a long life with.
But none of those moments hold a candle to last night’s realization. Not even close.
Because last night, as far as I’m concerned, was the last night of my life as I’d known it. Looking into Prue’s eyes, recognizing the familiar fear and excitement in them—it changed everything for me.
As Mr. Welch said, there is a moment it dawns on you that there will be a before and an after someone—and I felt that fall into place last night in a way I could no longer ignore, even if I wanted to.
So, if today is the first day of my new life, I want it to start as soon as possible. Which means I have a difficult conversation ahead of me.
I kiss Prue’s wrist that’s laid out on the pillow next to me and say the words I had whispered against her skin last night once more. “Я тебя люблю.” I love you. Then, I get dressed and make my way outside.
I knock on Welch’s front window, forty minutes before the store is set to open, and Tom gives me a thumbs-up before jogging through the aisles to unlock the door and let me inside.
“Good day, son,” he greets me, holding the door open with a wide smile. “Are you coming or going this morning?”
“Staying,” I answer bluntly, then shake myself, brushing past him to step inside. “Sorry. Good morning, sir.” Tom shuts the door behind me as I cross my arms in front of my chest, looking up to the ceiling and another broken sign I should offer to fix hanging over the produce. “Tom, I—”
“Oh boy…” He interrupts me, then sighs. “I had a feeling this might be coming,” he says, hands on his hips as he nods slowly, his eyes held over my shoulder. “Let me guess, you’re here to tell me you’ve decided to stay put in this little town of ours.”
“Yes.”
“Because of my daughter?”
“Yes, and also my—well, yes.”
“And you’ve made up your mind?”
I nod. “Yes, sir.”
He scratches the side of his nose. “I was worried you’d say that.”
“I want to tell her.” A dry, exhausted sort of laugh breaks free.
“No, actually, I need to tell her. And I’m sorry if that messes up your plan and I’m sorry if that means she’ll not really consider leaving but, honestly, I don’t think Prue has truly thought of leaving you or Mrs. Welch for a second, anyways.
” I swallow quickly before continuing. “And I can help too, sir. I can run the store, or help Mrs. Welch, and help Prue with…all of it. I can help. I can keep things the same for her. I can make it so, s-so, so she gets what she wants. You can all stay here. Together.”
“But, that’s the thing, son. She doesn’t know what she wants,” Tom argues. “And you and I shouldn’t be making that decision for her.”
“Sir, that is exactly what we’re doing!” I shout, then turn my face downward, running a hand through my hair and tugging at the ends.
“Sorry, just…You need to tell her too, about your…” I close my eyes briefly, knowing how much it’ll hurt Prue to have not known.
“She has a right to know. She deserves to know.”
“And what do you stand to gain from me telling her that I’m sick, hmm?
” Tom fires back, studying me with a crooked gaze as he picks up a clipboard off the shelf and tucks it under his arm.
“She’ll be trapped here by guilt, made to stay again, continuing to put her life on hold, but maybe that’s what you want?
Because you’ll be here too. The only man in town who’s ever caught her attention, willing to help her keep her head barely above water. ”
My chest rises in defiance. “I want her, ” I say, pointing toward the direction of the A-frame with my arm extended at my side.
“And if she wants me too, well, that’d be fantastic!
The best thing to happen to me, bar none.
But that doesn’t actually matter. The only thing that matters is that staying here is her decision to make and she can’t make an informed decision without all the information.
The information you and I are both holding back from her. ”
“Then tell me, since you seem to know everything, how do I look my only child in the eye and tell her I can’t look after her properly anymore?
That she has struck out in the parents department?
That two of us are falling apart?” He laughs brokenly, his lips quivering.
“Tell me! Since you make it sound so easy!” Tom’s jaw trembles as he walks over to the check-out counter, then leans over it, holding himself up with his forearms on the desk as he begins to weep into his hands.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other, folding and unfolding my arms in front of my chest. This is, undoubtedly, the most uncomfortable I’ve ever been.
Yet, I don’t feel like running, as I normally would.
I wait, trying to find the right words or timing when I doubt it’ll ever come, and when I can no longer stand there listening without saying something, I speak.
“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to imply that it would be easy to—”
“No, no,” Tom says softly, rubbing his forehead with an open palm. “No, Milo…It’s…It’s me who should be apologizing.”
I approach slowly, stopping to stand next to the shelf of mostly outdated magazines at the end of the counter.
“I know she’s your daughter, and you want to take care of her, but…
Prue is strong. She’s tough as nails. I mean, shit, she scared the crap out of me when I first met her and she’s practically half my size.
She’ll handle whatever life throws at her.
And she loves you. She loves the both of you so deeply because you—” I choke, then clear my throat.
“Because you gave her such a good life. You were good to her. Let her be good to you.”
“That’s not her job,” Tom says.
“No, but it’s what we do for the people we love. We step in. We show up.”
“It’s such a mess,” he says, standing. He rolls his eyes at himself, wiping the last remnants of tears away as he chuckles under his breath. Then, he turns toward me. “It was never supposed to be this way.”
“I know, sir. I’m sorry.” We exchange weary glances until Tom cocks his head to look at me, taking me in at a new angle.
“You’re good at that, you know.”
“What?” I ask.
“Stepping in. Showing up, like you said.”
I shake my head. “No, I—”
“You’re here, aren’t you? For your brother and his family?”
I nod.
“And that’s going well?”
“Er, yeah, I mean—”
“And my wife…You’ve shown up for her.”
“Well, Mrs. Welch is—”
“And me, and”—he pauses, pointing upward to the fixed arrow sign above the cash register—“my shop.”
“Right but—”
“And now Prue.” He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“You’ve shown up for her today. It took a lot of courage to come in here, to set me right, I’m sure.
And you make her happy, Milo. She’s been so much happier lately.
I didn’t want to admit it fully because, well, not much else has changed, has it?
She’s still here, still working away taking care of her mother and me… . But she’s happy.”
“That’s all I could ever want.”
“You should be proud of yourself, мой сын.” My son.
I nod, stunned, as my throat tightens and my eyes widen.
“I will tell her after the opening on Friday, okay? I don’t see any good reason to ruin a party.
” He walks over to the storage closet, fetching a sign from the back of it.
I watch him walk over to the door, place the Closed for the Day sign on it, and smile back at me over his shoulder.
“Until then, why don’t you let Prue know she can have today off.
I’d like to spend the day with my wife.”
I nod again, though disappointment hits when I realize I’ll have to wait another five days to tell Prue what I want and how I feel.
I can’t do any more half-truths. I want all my cards laid out on the table at once.
And I can’t tell her how I’m willing to change my life to fit hers before she knows her life is about to change too.
“Okay, sir.” I walk toward the door as he holds it open for me. “I’ll let her know.”
“And Milo?” he says as I get two steps outside and stand under the early-morning October sun.
“Yeah?”
“Your shirt is on inside out.”
I look down to see the shirt’s label on my chest, realizing it’s also on backward.
“I left rather urgently,” I admit, smiling sheepishly. “Thank you for hearing me out, sir.”
“Anytime.” Tom laughs, looking down at my shirt once more before shutting the door and locking it in place.
I set off to the back of the property, toward the A-frame and the woman inside of it whom I love.