Milo #4
“I actually didn’t know she was ace,” Milo said, tangling their fingers in the hem of their navy blue skirt. They still hadn’t felt like dressing in fun, exciting colors this week, but Anabelle would have been so disappointed if they wore all black to remember her.
Ethel peered over the top of her fanned-out cards. “I suppose that’s not something she would have felt the need to share with you, but I’m sure if you’d ever asked, she would have happily told you.”
There were so many things Milo had never asked her.
They’d thought they had more time. Just like they thought they had more time with Ethel, but nothing lasted forever.
Not Ethel’s pranks, which were usually cleaned up or dealt with by the end of the evening, or Anabelle’s clothes, which were beginning to fade and fray the more Milo wore them.
They could only count on this moment, where their 4G, Triple S fated mate was by their side and their dear Ethel was sitting across from them, eyeing their cards like she was already counting them.
“Were you two together?” Milo asked.
Ethel’s smile was slow, smoothing out the wrinkles on her cheeks, but deepening the ones around her eyes.
“We were, yes. She never wanted to use any fancy titles or make any sort of public declaration about it, which is why we never explicitly told you, but she always said that she loved me and wanted to spend the rest of her life by my side, and…so she did.”
Milo braced themself against the incoming fog, but what they got instead was Rowan’s knee pressing against their leg.
“And you loved her,” they said, a statement, not a question.
“Gods, did I love that woman,” Ethel said, placing her cards down with shaking fingers. “I loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her outrageous clothes and too-wide grin. Then you showed up, and I realized it must be genetic or something because then I found myself loving you, too.”
She reached across the table, and Milo scrambled to let go of their dress and take her hand.
“I was with her at the end,” Ethel said, squeezing Milo’s fingers with impressive strength.
“Obviously, I didn’t know it was our final night together, but we talked about you before she eventually drifted off to sleep.
We would often talk late into the night.
They wouldn’t let us push our beds together, not that Anabelle would have wanted that, but those talks, even from across the room, always felt like I was holding her and she was holding me. ”
Tears escaped down Milo’s cheeks, dropping onto the peeling laminate table.
“I talked to her that night, too. Maybe around eight or nine. I was telling her something stupid Andrew had done, and I…I’ve always regretted it.
I don’t want her out there somewhere worrying that I’m still with that asshole and miserable. ”
Ethel tutted, bringing her other hand up to pat Milo’s knuckles.
“Oh, my dear child, she wasn’t worried about you.
That was what we were talking about. She was telling me how sure she was that the two of you weren’t going to last. She knew in her heart you would eventually see through him and his—” Ethel gave a soft bark of a laugh.
“I believe she called it a ‘sorry excuse for pony-shit.’”
Something between a laugh and a sob burst out of Milo, and they bent forward over the table, bringing their forehead down to rest on their joined hands. “She used to say that all the time, didn't she?”
Ethel managed to free one of her hands, just to lay it back down on top of Milo’s head, ruffling their shaggy hair.
“I think she passed on from this life, wrapped up in her favorite quilt, listening to me yammer on, after having a good conversation with her kid. She was always happiest after she got to talk to you, and I like to think, in the end, I made her pretty happy, too.”
“I know you did,” Milo murmured, a tear dripping off their nose onto the corner of one of the cards. Maybe it would be another trick for Ethel to pull out on card night.
“I’m sorry you never got to meet her,” Ethel said, speaking over Milo’s head to Rowan. “But if you spend enough time around us, you’ll get a good sense of what an amazing woman she was.”
Rowan shifted in his chair, and his leg pressed against Milo’s, hip to knee. “I would love that.”
They played so many hands of rummy that Milo lost track, but Rowan sat tall and steady by Milo’s side through it all.
He didn’t bat an eye when several of the staff came over to express their condolences.
He even let Dee talk him into coming back for one of their game nights.
Milo was pretty sure they’d seen a chess set at both his cabin and apartment, so maybe they’d try to bring him back for the weekly chess nights.
The most impressive feat of the evening, though, was when he laughed at every one of Howard’s dad jokes.
“I know you probably miss her something fierce,” Howard said, patting Milo’s arm for the tenth time before shakily rising to his feet. “But it looks like you still have a wonderful family here to support you.”
Milo looked between Ethel and Rowan, with an inbox full of funny cat pictures and supportive texts from not just Ray but Ruben and Courtney as well, and thought maybe good old Howard was right.