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She sat next to him. “Have you eaten anything?”

“Not hungry.” He glanced at her. “I thought I was all germy.”

She stood. “Right, you are.” She moved a few feet away. “Does anything sound good?”

“I guess I’m thirsty.”

“Juice? Water? Tea?”

“Beer?”

“No.”

“Fine, I think there’s some apple juice in the fridge.”

“Since when do you have apple juice?”

“Since I have a three-year-old nephew who lives on the stuff.”

She went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of apple juice. “It’s really hard to get the juice out of those stupid boxes.”

He took the glass from her. “You could’ve just brought me the box.”

“You’re an adult. Adults don’t drink juice out of boxes. Drink up.” She took a cushion from the couch, dropped it onto the floor, then sat on it. Frenchie came over and lay down next to her. “So, why won’t you admit you like Wilda?”

“Rachel.”

“Don’t Rachel me. It’s obvious that you do. Is it the widow thing?”

“Widow thing? That’s a bit insensitive, even for you.”

She scowled. “I’m sorry. You don’t think she’s over her husband?”

“I know she’s not over her husband.”

“I guess all you can do is keep being her friend until she’s ready to move on.”

“If I give you twenty bucks, will you change the subject?”

Rachel smiled. “Do you have twenty bucks?”

Milo laid his head back and closed his eyes. “Do you remember those couple of awkward months after we broke up, when we didn’t hang out and barely talked to each other?”

“Yes.”

“I kind of miss those days.”

Rachel stood and walked over to him, then sat next to him and hugged him. “This is how much I care about you, Milo. I’m hugging you, germs and all.”

He patted her back. “I love you too, Rach.”

“I just want you to be happy, and I think Wilda is the woman who could do that for you.”

She let go of him, and he looked at her. “If that turned out to be true, I’d be a very happy man.”

Chapter nine

“So, yeah. That was my mom.”