Chapter 11
Bryson
“The best intentions don’t always work out so make sure all your intentions are good ones.”
~ Rowan O’Sullivan
“My sister said that I could walk,” Milo repeated for the second time since we’d left my parents’ house. “You don’t have to give me a ride.”
If I want to see your sister I do.
I glanced over and saw him petting Goliath who was sitting between us. “It’s all right. I wanted to tell her about the camp the sheriff told you about.”
Hud had stopped by my parents’ house today to check up on things with Milo. While he was there, he mentioned that next weekend there were some local kids going up to his ranch, which he’d started last summer for troubled youth. He thought it would be a good idea if Milo joined them. He said he was going to be giving Kelsi a call to tell her about it, but I told him I would take care of it. Hud just grinned and said that he thought I’d say that.
Before he left, he’d gotten a few shots in about the situation with Kelsi. I let him have his fun. I didn’t give a shit if he found my life amusing, I could kiss him for giving me a valid reason to see her.
It’d been four days since I’d opened the door and seen Kelsi and Milo on my porch. Four days since we’d had pizza and ice cream. Four days since I’d seen Kelsi more than just through her car windshield. Four days of texts that weren’t nearly as flirty as I’d like them to be. Four days that I hadn’t heard her laugh or smelled her fresh, coconut hair. Four days since I’d gotten a Kelsi fix…and I was having serious withdrawals.
I’d been so busy, and there were just not enough hours in the day. I was either at my parents’ house or the bar. I barely had enough time to shower and eat. In fact, I was due at the Cow in a half hour, but I’d told Jade I was going to be a few minutes late and asked her to cover for me. After making me admit that I was “twitterpated,” she’d agreed.
I’d never felt like this before and if my sister wanted to call it that she could. I wasn’t trying to hide it. Hell, I’d sent her a huge flower arrangement and asked Delilah to send me a pic. I knew then the whole town would know. What I didn’t know was that Jade would intercept Delilah’s mission and try and ambush me. But, hey, as long as my sister liked Kelsi and they were having fun, I’d gladly have it be at my expense.
I glanced over at Milo, who’d been quiet on the ride. Come to think of it, he’d been quiet all day. After our pizza and ice cream night, he’d gotten a lot more comfortable around me. He was a cocky little shit sometimes, but entertaining and never disrespectful.
“So, how’s things been going? At home?”
I’d asked Kelsi questions over texts, but she always gave one or two-word answers. I was starting to see that getting information out of her was like pulling teeth. She did finally admit that she loved the flowers I’d sent her and that the smile was her original reaction, the other shot had been Jade’s idea, which didn’t surprise me at all.
Over the week, I’d gotten a little bit of info. Milo had said she had an ex-boyfriend that sometimes texted. He said that every time he’d had her phone playing some game and her ex kept texting, she never made him stop so she could answer him back. I knew they’d lived together because Milo said that she’d accidentally packed some of his albums and dishes when she moved back home and they’d boxed them up and sent them back.
“I wish my room was bigger and that we could get cable, but it’s okay.”
I pulled up to one of the four stoplights in town and turned towards him. He was staring out the passenger side window. “Do you like living here?”
“It’s okay.”
My mom had pulled me aside earlier today and told me that I should let Milo go down to the pool, which was where all the kids hung out during the summer. She’d said that he needed to make friends. I’d reminded her why he was working in the first place, and she shrugged it off.
My mom.
The woman that grounded Jade for two months for sneaking out when she was sixteen. The woman who took away the keys to the truck that I’d bought, with my own money, for the first half of my senior year because I’d lied to her about spending the night at the Briggs house when I’d actually gone to a concert in Dallas when I was seventeen. Seventeen. That was the woman that was shrugging off breaking and entering and drinking at the age of twelve.
When I pointed those examples out to her, she said, “That’s right, you both were old enough to know better. He’s just a boy, and he’s had a lot to deal with. He needs to be a kid.” She’d ended her reprimand with her patented disappointed-mom headshake.
I realized now, as I looked at him through that lens, that I’d been so irritated by her leniency that I hadn’t given what she’d said much thought. This entire week I’d been so busy making sure that he was doing what he was supposed to that I hadn’t thought about his age or the fact that he’d left his home, his friends, everything he’d known, and moved here. If anyone could relate to that, it was me.
I decided to ask him the question that no one had asked me when we moved. “Did you want to move here?”
His only answer was the slightest raise of his shoulders.
The light turned, and I went at it from a different angle as I turned down the main road and took the long way to the shop. I wasn’t going to push him to open up, but I figured I’d give it one more shot. “I moved here from Ireland when I was eight.”
“Yeah, your dad told me.”
That didn’t surprise me. The two of them had been doing errands all week and the story of how we’d come to the United States was one of my dad’s favorite stories to tell. “Did he tell you that I cried every night for a month because I missed my friends, my home?”
Milo recoiled, his face scrunched like he’d just lost major respect for me. “You did?”
“There’s nothing wrong with crying. Real men cry.”
“Maybe.” His lips curved in a cocky grin as his brows rose. “But every night for a month?”
“Hey, I was eight,” I defended.
Instead of continuing to give me shit about my confession like I’d expected him to, his tone grew serious, somber even. “My sister left when I was eight.”
“To go to college?” I assumed.
“No. There was a guy. She moved away with him.”
“Russell?”
“I think his name was Pete or something. I don’t remember.” His energy shifted again, this time from sad to mad. “She had a lot of boyfriends. I hated all of them. They were assholes.”
He was giving me intel that I’d been dying to know all week but Kelsi’s love life was the farthest thing from my mind as I took another longcut to extend the drive and give me more time to talk to Milo. “That must’ve been hard. You two seem close.”
“We were, but then she left.” Now there wasn’t sadness or anger in his voice. Now it seemed devoid of any emotion. “She left me alone with our mom.”
I felt so bad for the kid but also for Kelsi. Their mom sounded like a piece of work, and I couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like growing up with her. “How old was Kelsi when you were born?”
“Um…” My eyes sliced to my right and I saw Milo looking up as if he was trying to figure it out. “She was…twelve.”
“Like you.”
“I’m basically thirteen.”
I turned down another road that there was no reason we needed to drive down. “And she helped your mom with you?”
“No.” He let out a dry laugh. “My mom never took care of us. Kelsi did everything.”
That’s what I thought.
Kelsi had been responsible for raising a kid when she was a kid herself. “That must’ve been hard for her, taking care of you and herself.”
He was quiet for a minute, and I wasn’t sure if he thought I was taking her side. I wasn’t. I felt bad for both of them. For Kelsi having to raise herself and then her brother, and for Milo having someone leave that he depended on. It was all kinds of fucked up and the person that caused it wasn’t even around to deal with the repercussions of her selfishness and neglect.
“Yeah, I guess.” His anger was back. “That’s probably why she left and didn’t come back.”
“But she did come back,” I corrected him. It was obvious that he felt abandoned by his sister, and I could see why, but I felt like it was important to at least point out what else she did. “When you needed her, she came back.”
This time when he went silent, he remained that way, and I figured I better stop driving around aimlessly. As I pulled in front of the beauty salon, I started to open the door.
“Thanks.” He said the word so quiet it was almost like a breeze in the wind, but it hit me square in the chest.
“Anytime.” I meant it.
He opened the door, but before he got out he looked over his shoulder. There was maturity well beyond his years in his large brown eyes. “I know you like my sister. Don’t be an asshole.”
I nodded, and he nodded back, acknowledging that we’d just had a moment of understanding and respect.
I hated that Milo felt like he had to protect Kelsi. He might think he was a man, and maybe he’d had to be, but my mom was right, the truth was he was a kid. I decided right then and there that I was going to make sure I was there for him from here on out no matter what happened between Kelsi and I.