Dead Ends // Hugh Jackman

Chapter 27

"He's what?!"

Milo is flabbergasted by the news. Rightfully so. Just yesterday him and Mom found out about Hugh, and now in a few short hours, they're going to meet him.

I'd say this is going too fast, but Hugh and I have never exactly done things at the typical pace most relationships would.

"He's on his way here," I repeat nonchalantly.

He looks to our mom for some support at how crazy this all sounds, but she continues washing some bedding and blankets for Hugh, like he's going to be spending the night here.

I've already told her he won't be in this apartment with us. For one, there's not any room for him, and second, he can afford to stay at the overpriced hotels around. I don't know why she keeps on insisting that he won't.

"You literally just started talking to each other again. Don't you think this is going a little too fast?"

I just shrug my shoulders. I'm not going to worry about that anymore. I'm just doing what feels right, and him coming to see me feels a lot like it. I'm also excited and nervous, and I can't wait for him to get here.

These next couple hours are going to seem like forever, but I know he'll be here soon enough.

"Milo, dear, there's no set timeline for a relationship. When you met Ana, how long did you wait to ask her out?"

He looks away sheepishly. It only took him 2 days after meeting her. I guess he really was one to talk.

"Exactly," our mom further proves her point. "Now, would you two sweep and mop the place while I'm gone? I gotta get some more groceries to make sure I have enough to feed all 4 of us."

She finishes folding the sheets and blankets then carries them to the guestroom I'm in, putting them on the edge of the bed.

Do I think that's a little weird? Yes, I do. What's she trying to imply? Because Hugh is not staying in this room with me while they're both in the same apartment. No way in hell.

That's a one big fat no from me. He's not going to stay here anyway, I remind myself. That would just be awkward. Meeting my mom and brother is one thing. This is another.

Milo thinks the same because he shakes his head at our mom as she walks out of the room.

"Please and thank you," she says, grabbing her purse from off the kitchen counter before heading out the front door.

"I call dibs on mopping," my brother immediately claims. Of course he does. It's like we're kids again doing chores.

I can't do any housework without listening to music, so that's what I do as I start to vacuum. I begin outward, in all the bedrooms, and finish in the living room, which is technically the epicenter of the apartment. I wouldn't say I finish quickly as I have to move furniture around, but I'd say I'm done within the hour.

Milo is mopping when our mom comes back. She asks me to help get the rest of the bags out of the car and put them away. Back before I left, this would be our usual Saturday, except my father isn't around, which makes the silence we're in a comfortable one.

Soon, all the food is where it should be, and the apartment is clean and presentable.

I plop on the couch. Milo sits on the other side while our mom prepares dinner in the kitchen. Checking the time, I learn I have a least 30 minutes before I have to leave for the airport.

I'm going by myself. My brother and mom are staying behind. Their decision. Not mine. I think they want to give us some alone time, because the entire trip he'll be here we very likely won't be. I don't mind. I just want to see him. Touch him. It's been too long, which makes the minutes feel like hours until I'm finally out the door.