bad TV while lounging in the bed your boss paid for.”
“When you put it that way, it does sound nice,” I say. “You convinced me!”
I smack the table for emphasis, and it starts to tilt left. “Oh no,” I mutter. “Don’t tell anyone that was me.”
Fred shakes his head. “This is why we have to get out of here. There isn’t a reliable puzzling surface in the entire house. I have a puzzle mat on the floor of our room but it’s not ideal and it’s making my back hurt. The hot air balloon puzzles deserve better than this.”
“Okay, well . . . tell Milo I left. I assume he’s back in your room.”
Fred nods. “We don’t spend a ton of time in the common areas.”
I look around us, at the scuffed cabinet doors caked with food residue. “That’s such a generous description.”
“It was good to see you, Chloe,” Fred says, standing up as I dodge the pizza box pile and make my way to the door. “And, hey.”
I pause in the doorway, my hand on the frame.
“I know Milo isn’t big on talking about feelings, but you should know that he appreciates everything you’re doing for your dad.”
“Did he tell you that?”
Fred shrugs. “He didn’t have to. I can tell.”
My heart aches for a moment, to imagine what it must be like for Milo and Fred, to have another person you can communicate with without even saying a word, a person you can do a puzzle with, side by side, working toward a common goal.
I mean, sure, in a lot of ways that’s what I have with Annie—we’ve always had entire conversations with our facial expressions and a shared history of inside jokes that could fill an encyclopedia. But imagine having that and make-outs, too. It’s almost enough to make a girl consider having an adult relationship.
But then I push that feeling away and smile. “Good luck with the hot air balloons. And thanks for doing this for Milo.”
Fred looks at me with confusion in his eyes. “Doing what?”
“You know.” I point around us, the gesture meant to encompass both the house and the entire city. “Giving up your glamorous city lifestyle to come to the Midwest.”
Fred coughs out a laugh. “Oh wow, is that what you think happened? That I selflessly followed Milo here?”
I nod. “I’ve done a lot of selfless things for Milo.”
“That’s sweet, but no. Milo wanted to be here for you and your dad, and other reasons . . .”
I frown, wondering what Milo’s other reasons could be, but Fred keeps going.
“But I was ready to get out of the city. Like, so ready. I mean, I’m thirty-one, which is basically eighty-five in model years.”
I shake my head. “You have the body of a twenty-five-year-old.”
Fred places one of his hands on mine. “Bless you. But I was ready for a change, and my family lives in Detroit, so it’s nice to be a little closer. This move was for both of us. A relationship shouldn’t just be about one person giving everything and the other person taking.”
I swallow. But what if I stop giving everyone everything, and then they don’t give me anything back to fill the void?
I keep that question to myself.
“I’m glad you guys are happy,” I say sincerely. “And thanks for talking to me. I’ll see you soon.”
Fred holds up his hand in a wave and I shut the door behind me. The air is slightly chilly, but there’s a promise in the air. It might be rainy and cold and, okay, it wouldn’t be unheard of if it started snowing in April, but warm weather is coming. Things are growing, and I can feel it.
Chapter Twelve
We’re busy on Friday, like usual (people like to roll into their weekends highly caffeinated, I guess), so it takes me a while to notice the two unexpected guests sitting at Gary’s table. Random tablemates in general aren’t unusual for Gary; he’ll hold a conversation with anybody, at any time, about any topic. But the guests themselves aren’t our typical patrons.
I leave Tobin in charge of the counter and head toward the table. “What are you guys doing?” I ask Doug and Shivan.
“I was telling D-Money and the Shivanenator about the girls,” Gary says, taking out his wallet and opening it to reveal several photos of his ferrets in their (admittedly impressive) habitat.
I lean in to look at the pictures, then shake my head. “That’s great, Gary, but I mean . . . why are you