“For anyone, five years is a long time. You’re also right. You can say what you like as much as you want, but abstract and real-life are jarringly different. If you think he deserves a chance, I’d say give him one. If Milo doesn’t know the guy’s his dad, and if he fails big time or proves he can’t be trusted, then you can send him on his way.”
“I…the problem is, Toren’s not like that. He could always be trusted. He was always just this rock of a person. For everyone. His friends, his cousins, who are more like his brothers, his actual brother and sister, and even his mom. Everyone could lean on him.”
“That’s a lot of pressure. Being the one everyone turns to.”
Why didn’t I ever think of it that way? Consider how it could wear a person down and weary them.
Rose passes me the bag of seeds and points to the birds with a slight tilt of her head. When she smiles at me, her milky blue eyes have a new spark to them. I’ve never seen her look so delighted.
“Being alone is hard,” she whispers. “You get used to it, but never the way you get used to being in love.”
“But I’m not…” I trail off when Rose gives me the most knowing look in the world. “That was a long time ago,” I sigh. “A. Very. Long. Time. Ago.”
Rose tilts her face in Milo’s direction, where he is now running in circles, laughing with his hands outstretched to the sky. That cloud up there still looks like a unicorn farting, but now the fart cloud is even bigger and more drawn out.
“Is he a beefcake?”
“A bee…what?”
Rose snorts. She’s amused with herself while I’m looking at her like she’s lost her mind. “What? You didn’t think anyone over the age of eighty-five knew that word?”
Hmm, now I can narrow her age down to between eighty-five and a hundred. Anyway, focus. Right now, you have bigger problems. Not that Rose’s age is a problem. Rather, Toren is a problem. Toren being a beefcake is a problem. Okay, FOCUS.
“Well, is he?” Rose presses. She’s way too delightful over there, on her end of the bench. She’s clearly enjoying herself.
“I don’t know. Uh, maybe other people think so.”
“Is he big?”
Depends on what kind of big and where. Jesus. FOCUS. Remember? F to the OCUS.
“Uh, he’s tall. Broad, I guess.”
“Over six feet? Big and muscled like a firefighter?”
“I guess so.”
“Looks good in a suit?”
I let out a huff of disgust. “I guess he does.”
Rose’s eyes get all shiny and excited. She’s enjoying this way, way too much.
“He has pretty blue eyes and chiseled features?”
“No, they’re gray. But yes, I guess he does. Sometimes, in my head, I compare him to a mountain, and sometimes, I think about goats and trees living on him.” That’s way too much information.
“Ha!” Rose titters. “As long as he smells like a tree and not like a goat, you’re doing okay.”
This isn’t like her. Normally, she’s so quiet and steadfast. I don’t know where that Rose went and where this one came from. The one who just doled out some really good, thoughtful advice and then asked for a list of wild physical details so she can get a better mental picture. Maybe she’s just curious. It’s allowed, you know.
“Has he learned to be all charming and nice now? Did he disarm you with his tears at lunch?”
“Uh, in the past, he didn’t exactly do emotion. When we first met, it took him a long time to let me in.”
“And where was that?”
“At a restaurant, if you can believe it. I was a server, and he kept coming in. Over and over again. We’d talk because all servers like to talk. I guess it was encouraged. I’d ask him, just to be polite, how he was and how things were going. At the time, I was selling my jewelry on the side, but I needed something else. I didn’t have a good marketing plan in place, supplies were expensive, and I wasn’t doing the online thing. I was just doing craft shows. Anyway, yeah, so that’s how we met. One day, he left his number on the napkin. I called, and I think it still took him a month to come around to take me out. He moved like a turtle. So I’d say he’s now learning. Or at least he seems more emotionally available. It could also be that he was just so in shock, he couldn’t control it, and it all leaked out.”
“But you’ve seen another side of him?”
“I never saw him cry before.”
“Well, you said he has money. At least that counts for something. Nothing wrong with getting spoiled or letting Milo live the good life. He’d have new opportunities if you let him.”