Page 45 of Bred By the Minotaur
She thinks for a moment, and then it dawns on her. “Oh, that’s what it is. But I didn’t get sick with Milo. Or?—”
Before she can finish, she bends over the toilet again and pukes some more. I rub her back, keeping her hair out of her face as she gasps and moans. Milo peeks into the room, but I wave him away.
Phoebe barely has the energy to make it up the stairs to her bed, and Milo frets as I take away her half-eaten plate of food and wash it.
“Does Phoebe need to go to the hospital?” he asks morosely.
I curse to myself. We’re going to need to tell him the truth soon.
“No, Phoebe will be fine. She’s just not feeling well.”
Uncertainly, Milo nods and finishes his dinner, but he’s quiet for the rest of the night. Before I head to bed, I check in on Phoebe, and stand in the doorway for a long moment watching her sleep, wishing I had the words to tell her what she means to me, that I had the courage to ask her to be mine.
Every day that passes, my hunger for Phoebe grows. Her sister is doing better lately and able to get around, so Phoebe decides we should all have a meal together—me and my mother and Sandra—so they can meet.
I’m nervous about everyone getting along, but as soon as we’re all at the table, charismatic little Milo takes center stage and no one can resist him.
“Darla told me she likes Phoebe,” he tells everyone, then shoves some pasta in his mouth. “And Darla only likes me and Dad, so that’s a big deal!”
Phoebe mock-gasps. “She likes me?”
“Yes. But she said you should give her more treats.”
Sandra laughs. “That sounds just like what a cat would say.”
“She also says I should get two desserts instead of one,” Milo goes on.
This time, it’s my mother who chuckles. “Darla sure has a lot of demands.”
Milo lists off everything Darla says he should have.
“Dang, he really got your eyes,” Sandra says off-handedly to Phoebe.
I sit up straight. Oh, no.
“Whose eyes?” Milo asks, perplexed. “They’re my eyes.”
Sandra covers her mouth. “That’s right. They’re all yours, of course!”
Phoebe shoots her sister a disapproving glare, but Milo is curious now.
“What did you mean?” he presses.
I don’t like the direction this is going, but there’s nothing I can do to stop the train now.
Sandra looks helpless. “It’s just... you have really pretty blue eyes, Milo! Just like Phoebe. Right? Cool coincidence.”
Milo blinks. “Co-insa-what?” Then he runs off down the hallway to the bathroom. I follow him just as he calls out, “Dad, I can’t see my eyes!”
Phoebe is shaking her head at Sandra as I leave the living room, and help Milo up onto the counter so he can look in the mirror. He stares at himself, then up at me.
“Wow,” he says. “I do have blue eyes like Phoebe. But Dad, you have brown eyes.”
Shit. This isn’t how I wanted to tell him.
“I know,” I say cautiously. “Your mother has blue eyes, though.”
“My mother?” He simply laughs at me. “I don’t have a mother.”
