Milo
“Here you go, guys,” Marshall said, setting the beer bottles on the table, along with three shot glasses.
“Thank you,” Arlo said warmly, his voice as quiet as ever as he flashed a smile at Marshall.
“No,” Marshall said as he sat at the outdoor table, and I noted that our positions made a perfect triangle. “Thank you for letting me intrude.”
“You’ve met people,” I protested as I held up the shot glass and downed it in a gulp, hoping to warm myself up. This place had been Arlo’s idea, and I was always down to try something new. I wasn’t sure how popular an outdoor brewery would be in the middle of winter in Oregon, but it was unique.
If anything, it would push people to drink more to stave off the cold, so maybe there was some logic to it.
Not that they were letting people freeze or anything, there were heaters under each table, which meant I had to be careful where I stuck my legs.
I had been assured that the covers over the heaters didn’t get hot, but I didn’t want to damage something accidentally.
There was plenty of heat, though, so it was really just my face and neck that needed warmth.
“The last time I met someone you were seeing, you were in high school,” Arlo pointed out, picking up his shot glass and sniffing it before tilting it back into his mouth.
He wasn’t being picky or snotty; Arlo always sniffed anything new, or if it came from someone else.
I didn’t know the point, but I’d yet to see him turn something down unless even I thought it was dubious.
“Okay, well, I’m not seeing Marshall, that’s my bio dad, man,” I said with a wrinkle of my nose.
“Your boyfriends tend to be the only part of your social circle I have a chance of meeting,” Arlo said, gently setting his empty shot glass into mine and sliding the two toward Marshall as my dad took his shot.
“You don’t make any friends outside Elijah, who I talk to even more than I talk to you.
So your boyfriends are the only thing I can compare to. ”
“Alright, hard to argue with that,” I admitted with a shrug.
“Speaking of,” Arlo said, eyes darting to Marshall, who was picking something out of his beer. “Outside Elijah, am I the first in the family to know about this?”
“You are,” I said, scowling because I hated how perceptive he was. All those quiet people you were warned about? Arlo was the poster child. “And I’ll tell everyone else when I feel like it.”
“Everyone else,” he repeated in a faint amusement. “You mean one specific person.”
“Maybe,” I said, glaring at him because I did not want to have that conversation in front of Marshall, who was already paying attention and figuring out what wasn’t being said.
We had talked extensively in the week since we’d gone out partying together, and I’d learned quite a lot about him.
Of course, it wasn’t hard when he had many of the same habits and tendencies I did, which included that while he could be a bit flighty and inattentive, he wasn’t an idiot.
Like me, he could make leaps of logic with only the fuel of intuition and find himself, if not right on the target, close enough to figure it out.
And it wasn’t like I had been subtle about avoiding talking to my mom about him.
Arlo stared at me, and I groaned when he turned his attention to Marshall.
Like Eli, Arlo was a thinker, but unlike Eli, Arlo had difficulty being anything other than a thinker.
Anything of significance had to be balanced in his head; facts, evidence, and opinions had to be weighed, and a conclusion had to be made.
There was clearly some part Arlo needed settled, and I spared a moment to wonder if maybe inviting Marshall along had been a bad idea.
“Why did you wait so long to show up in Milo’s life?” Arlo asked, and I sighed, barely reminding myself that the table was hard and I’d hurt myself if I banged my head on it.
“I think you’re embarrassing him,” Marshall said, and I didn’t have to look up to know he was smiling.
Arlo raised a brow. “You change subjects like half the family does. Milo could do with feeling a little more embarrassment in his life so he doesn’t forget the feeling.”
“Well, that’s fucking rude,” I muttered, wishing I hadn’t finished my food so I still had my fork to jab him with. “Quit it!”
“Well?” Arlo asked, ignoring me because all my siblings were assholes...except Eli, and even he had his moments.
Like the past week, he had been weird as hell.
It wasn’t in a way I could nail down; otherwise, I would have pinned him down and run through the list so he could see I was right, he was being weird.
It was just little, nagging moments of weirdness that on their own could be me making a fuss over nothing, but they kept happening, which meant there was more going on.
But no, he kept insisting everything was fine.
Never mind that he had slept with his door open for the past week, but he always wore sleep pants or shorts.
Sometimes I’d swear he was staring at me, but every time I looked, he was looking somewhere else, or the fact that there was this weird space between us that wasn’t normally there, but it wasn’t like he was avoiding me or drawing away if I laid a hand on him.
No, it was more like he was paying more attention than usual to our proximity or what I was doing.
All harmless, I guess, but damned if I could figure out what picture they made when put together.
“I take it you want honesty,” Marshall said slowly, setting his beer bottle down and watching Arlo carefully.
“Yes,” Arlo said.
“Well, honestly, that’s a complicated, messy subject, and not all that pleasant.”
“All the better to get it out in the open, don’t you think? My brother likes to see the best in people, often to his detriment. I don’t want him placing hopes in a man who, quite honestly, has been essentially a deadbeat up until this point.”
My eyes widened. “Arlo!”
I continued to be ignored; bastard didn’t even look at me.
“But he’s now getting through college with excellent grades despite his haphazard habits, he’s comfortable where he’s living, and despite college, has a social media presence that is well known enough to see steady growth, both in reputation and in financial returns. ”
Marshall cocked his head, smiling. “You’re afraid that I showed up because my...because Milo is getting famous?”
“That’s one of a few fears,” Arlo said, looking down his nose steadily. “And it’s a perfectly valid concern.”
“It is, but it’s unfounded. I’m not here for his money or his clout.”
“How can we know that?”
“You don’t.”
“Is that supposed to inspire trust?”
“If you don’t trust me now, what could I possibly say to change that? Either I am the person you’re afraid I am, or I’m the person he wants me to be. The reality is that more than likely, I’ll be someone who falls somewhere between the two.”
Arlo grew quiet for a moment, then nodded. “And my original question?”
“Is none of your business,” Marshall said quietly. “That’s between the people it directly affects. You’re his brother, you clearly love him and want what’s best for him, but that indirectly involves you. That question will be answered when Milo asks it, and he’s always welcome to ask.”
“And I haven’t,” I pointed out, torn between annoyance at the interference but knowing I couldn’t hold onto it.
If it were Mom or Moira, sure, I could stay mad because Christ, those two really liked sticking their nose where they didn’t need to.
Dom, to a certain extent, might dip his nose in, but only long enough to make his point before quickly letting the other person handle their shit, with Dom’s opinion thrown in.
Even Eli would interfere, but everyone knew I couldn’t stay mad at him for doing something he only did because he knew me and how to do it.
But Arlo? Man, he never interfered, so if he was sticking his nose into my business, I just had to grumble and bear it because damn him for caring enough to speak up.
Arlo grunted, finally smiling. “Now that you put things into perspective, I feel a little arrogant for pushing.”
“I know a thing or two about siblings, and that includes knowing that sometimes you have to speak up because either they won’t, or they don’t see things the way you do,” Marshall told him, picking up his beer bottle.
“Milo here seems to be surrounded by nothing but people who love and care about him, but still let him be himself. That combination is pretty rare; all of you are lucky to have each other.”
“I suppose we are,” Arlo said calmly, but I could tell he was pleased by what Marshall said.
Whether it was because of the whole thing or just the tail end was anyone’s guess.
Arlo appreciated a nice, wrapped-up explanation so long as it made sense to whatever logic went through his head.
Then again, even with his logical approach, he was still a sucker for a good, emotionally impactful statement, and Marshall had covered that nicely, talking about how lucky we were to have the family we did.
Arlo wasn’t the most expressive of people, but I doubted a day went by that he wasn’t grateful for the family he’d been given.
“Have you two finished having your little heart-to-heart?” I grumbled, not quite feeling excluded but still on the outside enough to feel irritated. That was my brother, but also my dad, whom I was supposed to be connecting with. Was that petty? Probably, but I was still irritated.
“I was just getting to know him a little better,” Arlo said with that private, secret smile he was so good at before taking a drink. “Where’s your better half by the way?”
I scowled at him. “Don’t you start.”
“I wasn’t starting anything,” Arlo said, but his soft squint told me he was enjoying himself. “Better half can mean a lot of things.”