Unexpectedly, Milo

by Matthew Dicks

  “All set,” William said to Milo, pointing at the stage. “The microphone is on. Gina will press play when you point to her. Okay?”

  “Thanks,” Emma said. “This means a lot.”

  “No problem,” he said, though Milo thought he should’ve tipped a ten-gallon hat and said, Don’t mention it, miss. It ain’t nothing.

  “Emma,” Milo said once William had returned to his position behind the bar. “I don’t need to do this. I can probably make it until tomorrow. This isn’t like the jelly or the ice cubes. I can usually hold this one off for a while.”

  “But why should you? It’s all set up. Now go on. Let’s hear it. What’s the song again?”

  “‘Ninety-nine Luftballons.’ But I sing the original. In German. You won’t understand the words. God, this is embarrassing.”

  “Oh, yeah. A girl sang that song, right?”

  “Yes. Her name’s Nena. She’s German. She sang it in English too, but I have to sing the German version.”

  “Are you going to sing it like a girl?” Emma asked, unable to hold back the broad smile that was nearly dividing her face in two. “Do you try to sound like her? With a high voice and all?”

  “You suck. You know that? You really do.”

  “Whatever. Just shut up and sing.”

  As Milo removed the microphone from the stand and looked out into the restaurant, he could see that the two businessmen and the family of four had all turned in order to face the stage and watch his performance. Sitting just three feet from the edge of the stage, in chairs that had been dragged over from a nearby table, were Emma and Eugene, staring up at him and hardly blinking. Though Milo would’ve loved to walk off the stage and head for his room, proximity to satisfaction once again had its grip on him, making any hope of turning back impossible. Though he knew that he could’ve held off this demand for another twenty-four hours without much difficulty, now that he was on the stage, ready to perform, he was nearly bursting with the pressure and anticipation of relief.

  It wasn’t until Emma and Eugene began dancing that he finally relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy this odd and unforgettable moment.

  chapter 32

  “How are you feeling?” They had just passed over the George Washington Bridge and would be entering Connecticut in less than an hour depending on traffic, and Milo knew that the closer they got to her home state, the more difficult the trip might become for Emma.

  “I’m fine. Seriously. Stop asking.”

  The ride from Maryland to New York had been surprisingly uneventful. They had stopped at McDonald’s for breakfast and had otherwise not left the interstate. Milo’s mind had been quiet all morning, the U-boat captain perhaps having gone silent, deep in enemy waters, allowing for conversation to flow between the two of them. They had spoken about their careers, with Emma detailing the plots of both of her novels and Milo describing some of his more interesting clients, including Edith Marchand, whom he hoped to see later that afternoon. Emma was highly entertained with the stories of these old people, and laughed when Milo told about Arthur Friedman’s addiction to Internet porn and his need for Viagra, and Grace Bedford’s necklace of baby teeth.

  “Is she some kind of witch?” Emma asked between giggles.

  “No, she’s just an old lady with an herb garden who needs some company and an occasional foot massage. Actually, I looked the baby teeth thing up and found that it was actually common for people to do that sort of thing years ago.”

  “Disgusting.”

  “I know, but you have to wonder where all those baby teeth go after parents take them from underneath their kids’ pillows. Right? What do you do? Throw them away?”

  “You sure as hell don’t wear them around your neck.”

  As the sun rose high into the clear blue morning sky, conversation had dwindled for a while, which was okay with Milo. Ordinarily he would’ve felt the pressure to maintain a conversation, searching for topics of interest and a means to sustain the dialogue, but with Emma, he was able to simply sit beside her and drive. Without his secret to protect, his life had suddenly become easier and more relaxed, at least around her. For once, he was perfectly at ease with himself and whatever that submariner might have planned.

  It was almost noon. They had crossed over the Hudson River about an hour before, and Emma had been silent for most of that time. Unable to see her face, Milo had started to wonder if she was taking a nap. The traffic had been heavier than he expected, and he was beginning to worry that he wouldn’t make it to Edith’s house by three. He was considering calling and warning her that there was a chance he would miss his scheduled appointment when Emma finally broke the silence with a question that was almost asked in a whisper. “Do you think that I sort of ruined Cassidy’s life? Don’t lie.”

  “What? No. Of course not.”

  “You said yourself that she’s been thinking about me for a long time. Ever since I disappeared. That she talked about it on the videotapes. She’s spent her whole life thinking that she was responsible for my disappearance and death. That’s got to weigh pretty heavily on a person.”

  “Sure. But it doesn’t mean that you ruined her life.”

  “No, but it didn’t make her life any easier.”

  “Look, Emma. You had no idea what was going to happen. You were thirteen years old. Do you really think that she’s going to blame you for not calling from North Carolina to tell her that you were okay?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. How would you know? You talk like you know her, but you’ve never even met her, Milo. You can’t predict what she’ll say when she sees me.”

  “You’re worried about how Cassidy’s going to react?”

  “Maybe,” she said, her tone negating the uncertainty of the word. “I think I have a reason to be.” There was anger in Emma’s voice now, but Milo knew that it was not directed at him. Like the anger that he sometimes experienced from clients who could no longer do the things they once loved, this was self-directed, so Milo knew better than to respond in kind.

  “Emma, she’s going to be thrilled to see you. I promise.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “I watched the tapes. You’d be surprised how much you can learn by watching and listening to a person’s diary.”

  “And you’d probably be surprised by how much you didn’t learn.”

  “True,” Milo admitted. “But she didn’t hold back on those tapes. There came a time when I felt awful for watching them and listening to her secrets, but I didn’t stop until she said her name. I know it wasn’t entirely unselfish of me to keep on watching. I wanted to. It was … I dunno. Fascinating. Thrilling. If I had brought them on this trip, I don’t think I could’ve resisted popping in another tape and watching some more. But as soon as I found her, I stopped and put the camera away. Then I came and found you.”

  “You like her, don’t you?”

  “Don’t be stupid. Like you said, I don’t even really know her.”

  “Yeah, but you like her just the same. Right?”

  “I like her as a person,” Milo said. “I liked her enough to try to find you and help her out. But you said it yourself: You can’t get to know someone through a videotape.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Well, you should’ve.”

  The two sat quietly for a few minutes, a silent truce as Milo considered all that had been said and assumed that Emma was doing the same. She was right that he liked Freckles, but he also knew that he wasn’t going to admit this to Emma. Falling for a girl whom he had only seen on a videotape was possibly more bizarre than singing “99 Luftballons” in a bar in Maryland while Eugene and Emma danced and threatened to charge the stage.

  And then Milo realized that he could admit his fondness for Freckles, that this was Emma, keeper of all of his secrets, and that the old habits of cover and concealment and misdirection were not required in her presence. She already knew all about his strangeness and had accepted him for who he was. Did he re
ally think that admitting to a crush on a woman whom he had never really met would be a deal breaker for Emma? And even if it might be, he should admit to it anyway, because this was the one time in his life when he did not need to withhold or lie about a thing, and he wasn’t about to mess it up. But before he could admit to anything, Emma spoke.

  “Why do you like working with old people?”

  “What kind of question is that?”

  “Just answer it. Why do you like working with your clients?”

  “I don’t know,” Milo said, suddenly wondering himself. “I just get along with them, I guess. I think I’m able to sympathize with their situations. I don’t know. I think I just like them.”

  “They don’t hide much from you, do they?” Emma asked.

  “What?”

  “The old people. Like the Viagra man, or the lady who has you rake her carpet. They don’t keep a lot of secrets from you. Do they?”

  “I don’t know. I guess not. Why?”

  “I’ve got this old lady living in the apartment underneath me, and she doesn’t play any games either. She hangs her bras and underwear out on the line and leaves her teeth out during the day sometimes and tells me that I look sad when no one else ever will. She even carries her adult diapers from the car to her apartment without ever trying to hide them. She’s too old, I guess, to fool around. She must figure that she is who she is and that’s not going to change. I bet that’s why you like them. The old people. They don’t keep many secrets. They show you who they really are.”

  “Who knows? Maybe Mr. Friedman killed the neighborhood cats when he was a kid. Maybe Edith cheated on her dead husband. Maybe Mrs. Bedford’s husband is buried in her herb garden underneath the mint. How can you ever know what someone is hiding?”

  “You can’t, but I bet that with old people, you can come pretty close, assuming you’re not spending time with cat killers or ax murderers.”

  “So what? What’s your point?”

  “That’s why you like Cassidy. I mean, she’s probably pretty, but she doesn’t have any secrets either. She didn’t intend on telling you about me and whatever other secrets she shared, but she did. She’s got nothing to hide. That’s why you like her.”

  “You’re unbelievable, Emma,” Milo said. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a person more certain of herself than you. You’re right. I like Freckles. Cassidy, I mean. And I’d probably never admit it to anyone but you. But it has nothing to do with all that bullshit about secrets. She’s a pretty girl with a great smile and she seems smart and kind and a little wounded, and I’m a sucker for a damsel in distress. That’s all it is. Okay?”

  “If you say so.”

  Milo sighed. “You know what, Emma? I think we’re going to be great friends, but part of me is very happy that you live in North Carolina. I don’t think that I could stand you all year round.”

  “Not too many people can,” Emma said with a smile.

  To Milo’s surprise, there was no discernible change in Emma as they passed over the New York—Connecticut border and into Fairfield County. He wanted to think that all of Emma’s talk about New England being a black hole was bullshit, but he knew that it was not. This was simply another instance of Emma handling a difficult situation better than most would. Even though there might be a battle between the present and the past raging in her head, she continued to smile as the wind blew through her hair and she breathed in the smells of the Connecticut shoreline.

  “If we go straight to Edith’s house, I can make it on time,” Milo said. “Would you mind coming with me before we go to see Cassidy? I haven’t seen Edith in almost a week, and I don’t ever go this long without stopping by. Is that okay?”

  “Sure. Cassidy’s waited twenty years to see me. She can wait a couple hours more.”

  Milo thought that Emma could wait a couple more hours as well.

  At a quarter after three, Milo and Emma pulled into the driveway of Edith Marchand of Stancliff Road in Glastonbury. He had never been late for an appointment with Edith before, and he had half expected her to be standing on her front stoop, waiting for his arrival.

  “I’ll be less than an hour. Okay?”

  “What?”

  “I won’t be more than hour,” he repeated.

  “Milo, I’m going inside with you.”

  “No, you’re not. She’s not expecting you. This is my job, Emma. I never bring visitors with me.”

  “Milo, I am going inside with you or we are leaving. I’m not going to sit in this car for an hour waiting for you.”

  “Emma, I can’t let you—”

  Edith’s voice interrupted midsentence. She was standing on her stoop, just seconds after Milo had expected her to be there, and she was shouting his name. “Milo! Is something wrong?”

  “Please just wait here,” Milo pleaded.

  Instead of waiting, Emma opened the door to the Honda and climbed out. “Hello!” she shouted. “I’m Emma, a friend of Milo’s. Do you mind if I join you today?”

  “Not at all, dear,” Edith said, louder than Milo thought she was capable of. “Good Lord, why are you two just sitting out there? Come on in.”

  Emma stuck her head back into the car and flashed Milo a sarcastic grin before slamming the door shut and turning up the walkway toward the stoop. “I’m sorry, but Milo never told me your name.”

  “It’s Edith, dear. Come on in. Milo, are you coming?”

  He was sitting in the Honda, the engine still running.

  Fifteen minutes later Milo was serving tea to Edith and Emma and preparing to rake the living room rug.

  “So let me guess,” Edith said, directing her question at Emma. “You are the young lady from the videotape. Am I correct?”

  Milo attempted to answer, but Emma spoke first.

  “Actually, no. I’m an old friend of the woman on the tape. We’re going to see her later this afternoon.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.”

  “Why’s that?” Emma asked, lifting her feet to allow Milo to rake beneath them.

  “Yeah, why’s that?” Milo asked.

  “I don’t mean to tell secrets, but Milo has a crush on the girl on that videotape, and I was hoping that she was you. I like you.”

  “He does?” Emma asked, nudging Milo with her foot. “Really?”

  “Yes, he does, and don’t let him tell you otherwise. But he’s still married and needs to decide on things with that wife of his first before chasing some girl he’s never even met before.”

  “I’m standing right here,” Milo said. “Could you please not talk about me like I’m invisible?”

  “I wasn’t,” Edith said. “You know how I feel. But Emma, if things don’t work out between Milo and his wife, I want you to know that he’s a fine catch.”

  “Oh, really? Why do you say that?”

  “Well,” said Edith, leaning forward in her chair, “he is just a nice man, and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how hard that is to find sometimes.”

  “No, you don’t,” Emma said.

  “It’s a shame too,” Edith said. “I have a son named Tony, and I love that boy dearly, but he can’t go fifteen minutes without rolling his eyes at me or telling me that I’m doing something wrong or that I’m foolish or just plain silly. Milo has never once looked at me like that. I know that raking this carpet may seem foolish to a lot of people, my son included, but I like the way it looks when he’s done, and Milo’s never once made me feel foolish for asking him to do it. Even the first time. When you can say what’s on your mind without always having to worry if someone thinks of you as a fool, you’ve found a real catch.”

  “You make a good argument, Edith. I’m afraid that Milo and I are probably just going to be friends, but I’ll pass on the good word to Cassidy.”

  “You wait until he’s settled things with his wife. No need confusing things with another woman. Okay, Milo?”

  “Yes, Edith. I know.”

  “I told you so,” Emma said once they
were back in the car and on the way to Cassidy’s house.

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Hey, thanks for not telling Edith about Christine’s call. I’ll tell her that we’re getting divorced, but I’ll do it on a day when I have more time to sit around and listen to her scold me.”

  “No problem. How long before we get to Cassidy’s? My Connecticut geography is a little rusty. Cassidy may live here now, but remember, I never did.”

  “Less than thirty minutes. Why?”

  “I have to think about what I’ll say to her. What I’ll say first, I mean.”

  “Just introduce yourself,” Milo said. “She’ll probably do the rest.”

  “Yeah, like kick me in the shin or slug me.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  It was four thirty when Milo and Emma knocked on Cassidy’s front door. He couldn’t believe it. After all this time, he was about to reunite these two women and finally put a part of Cassidy’s mind at ease. All the hours of watching tapes and researching backgrounds and driving to and from North Carolina had led him to this moment. He would finally meet Cassidy Glenn, a.k.a. Freckles, the girl that had propelled him on his journey. And because he was standing beside Emma, soon to be introduced as Tess, he felt more relaxed than he ever could have imagined.