Page 42 of Bred By the Minotaur
If she’s ever ready. But I shake that thought off. No, I’m going to convince her that she belongs in my bed and in my life. That Milo and I are the best possible match for her.
Then I’d like to take it. I can pay rent and watch Milo some of the time.
I blink at the time on my dash when I pull into my driveway. It’s nearly four in the morning. Why is she awake? Maybe she couldn’t sleep. She must have gone back to her sister’s house and now the couch is bothering her.
You don’t need to pay anything. And watching Milo isn’t required, either. My mom takes care of him most of the time I’m at work.
There’s a long pause on the other side, so I unload my gear and take it into the garage before entering the house. It’s quiet and dark.
You have to let me give you something, or I’ll feel guilty.
I can feel the anxiety radiating off the message. I suppose I understand that. She doesn’t want charity.
Okay. Then we can trade for babysitting. And if you feel inclined to cook...
I’m happy to cook.
I enjoyed watching as Phoebe showed Milo how to crack an egg, and I think it’ll be good for him in so many ways to have her around.
Great. Then move in whenever you want. Do you need help bringing your things over?
What things?
I wince. True.
I have everything you need.
She doesn’t answer that, and I wonder if she’s gone to bed, or simply doesn’t know what to say. Finally, her reply comes.
I’ll come by tomorrow.
See you then.
Moving Phoebe in is easy when all she owns is a trash bag full of clothes and her computer equipment. I help her carry it down the block from her sister’s house to mine.
“I need an office chair,” is the one thing she says after we deposit her minimal belongings in the spare room. All I have are a desk and a bed, having never really needed the chair.
“There’s an office supply store nearby,” I say. “I can drive you.”
“They have so many pens there!” Milo’s blue eyes are bright and starry. “Every pen in the world.”
Phoebe gives me an odd look, but I just shrug.
“He loves pens.”
Phoebe
It didn’t take much persuading for Sandra to give her blessing for me to move in with Hank. She was all too eager to get rid of me, so I know it’s for the best.
After depositing my things at Hank’s house, the three of us head over to the office supply store. Milo browses the highlighters with shock and awe while I survey the selection of desk chairs. I pick something within my budget, and Hank helps me carry the box out to the car. Milo gets a set of markers, playing with them and his new notebook while I set up the chair in the spare room in front of the desk.
A desk. Just for me. After my month of living under Sandra’s feet, this feels like the one thing that’s mine.
“Thank you, Hank,” I say as he gets the wheels of the chair attached. “Thank you so much.”
He turns the chair over and rolls it back and forth to make sure the wheels are seated. “I just put together a chair, no big deal.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “No, I mean, for the room. Having my own space again... you don’t know how much it means to me.”
