Page 98 of Seasons of Love
I’m not sure if I want to be sick, run inside the kitchen and hold Milo in my arms, or scream.
“Sorry, guys, I need a breath of fresh air. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Emy nods and carries on with her work while I basically run to the door.
It’s dark outside now. It’s one of those mild summer nights that would be perfect with a breeze but feels sticky and stifling without one.
I lean my back against the wall and close my eyes.
Maybe I stay outside a little too long because I hear the door open, and when I open my eyes, Tyler’s standing next to me.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Honestly? I’m not sure.” I stare into his eyes. “What is Milo doing here?”
“He volunteers, just the rest of the gang.”
“But it’s not just that, is it?”
Tyler puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes tight. “That’s a conversation you need to have with him.”
I nod.
“I’m going to give a piece of advice because I’ve been doing this too long on my own.”
“Okay.”
“You can’t help everybody. I’ve seen you talk to people today. It’s good to be familiar with them. But you can’t rescue them. We’re here to make today a little better than yesterday. Some people don’t want to be rescued. Some people can’t.”
I nod, even though every cell in my body wants to fight it.
“But Milo. He’s different.”
Tyler smiles. “Milo is a special person. He’s very guarded and has good reason to be. If you want to help him…gain his trust.”
“I don’t know how. He seems…flighty.”
“Then catch him before he takes off.”
5
MILO
I need to stop running into him. I need to stop running into him.
That’s the mantra I keep repeating as I prepare to wash the large pots and pans the team used to make the meals.
I’m not sure how I can make it happen when he seems to be wherever I go.
I’ve been volunteering with Ty practically since he started the soup kitchen. I’m not that great a cook, but I can certainly do the dishes, which means the rest of the crew gets to go home early.
This is my community. Where I grew up. So I want to help.
Most of them knew my family, which is why I stay behind the closed kitchen doors, but it won’t stop me from helping out.
I don’t want to hear the stories or see the pity in their eyes. Or worse, the hatred at my brother for being part of what makes this area of town what it is now. Even if he paid for it with his life.
No. I just want to help. Doesn’t hurt getting a free meal out of it too.
