Mila's Reckoning

Chapter 3

Gino

While getting ready for class on Monday, I started to grab her shirt to put next to my keys. I had forgotten to take it on Friday, but I think she had forgotten about it, too, because she didn't say anything. On second thought, the image of a guy bringing a girl her shirt to class might give off the wrong vibe to those around us. I'll just save it for our next lab.
I got to class about five minutes early, and Mila had surprisingly beat me to our seats. When I had gotten stuck on the front row on the first day, I had thought that I would come in to our next class early and make sure to get a better seat. But, I didn't want Mila thinking that I was moving from her, so I had decided to just stay in the front. I was happy to see that Mila had followed suit and was sitting at our front-row table.
"Well isn't someone becoming quite the early-bird?" I laughed, sitting my coffee next to her. Her hair was loosely curled and pulled to one side to where her face was shining brightly. Those cheeks perked up as she turned to look at me.
"I didn't want you thinking that you could pick where we sit all the time, so I thought I'd come early. But I tried out the other spots, and I think we should stick with our prime-time view of Cash up front and center," she laughed, pointing at the professor as he walked through the door.
"Whatever you say, lab-partner. Speaking of, are we doing same time at my place tomorrow?" I asked, waiting for the moment of truth. If she says no, then I blew it the other night. If it's a yes, then hopefully I wasn't the only one having a good time.
"Well, of course. Tell Ethan to be ready for me, I might actually remember to tip him this time," she said, covering her forehead as though she were embarrassed about it.
Before I could tell her that I'll always cover the tips, Cash began rambling about enzymes. I'm assuming that's what the next lab will be about. Well, if she's willing to come back for a second round, maybe things went well. Hopefully for this next lab, though, we can eliminate the temptation of her shirt becoming see-through because of a spill.

---

4:15. Mila's running late. A normal person probably wouldn't notice when someone is running just a little late, but I've been staring at that immensely tall oak door for about 20 minutes now. Who needs a door that tall? I reach to check my phone one more time and it begins to vibrate. It's Mila.
"Hey, is everything alright," I asked, masking the anxiousness I'm feeling about the potential of her changing her mind about completing the lab here. Did she see me gawking at her shirt that night?
"Uh, actually no," she paused. I could hear someone yelling in the background. Was that a man? "Look, Gino, I'm not going to be able to come over tonight. I'm sorry for the late notice. I'll take care of the lab results and get them to you, okay," she said. Her voice was shaky.
"Mila, forget the lab. What's going on," I asked, wondering who was yelling at her.
"I can't talk about it, I've really got to go. I'll talk to you later." She hangs up.
I can't explain the jumping jacks that my heart is doing right now, but I can't help but worry about what's up with Mila. She's the type of girl who reads lab directions before ever even starting the lab, and a girl like that isn't one to ditch plans unless it's urgent. My head is telling me to leave it alone, but my roots know better than that. I pick up my phone, knowing just who to call.
"Hey, Lenny. I need your help. Can you reach out to Crawl and get an address for me?" I ask, hoping there's no additional questions in response to my request.
"You got it, text me the information. You good, G?" he asks.
"Yeah, I'm good. Text me the address when you get it." I hang up, thankful that for once in Lenny's life, he didn't push for more information.
About twenty minutes later, I got Lenny's text:
1520 Windmill Lane St Louis MO. Need backup?
No I got it. Thanks.
Alright Gino, think this through. This girl barely knows you, so showing up on her front door step just to check in is a little odd. Maybe you should just send a nice gesture, something that she doesn't know is from you that may lighten her load for the night. It's about 5 o'clock, she's probably too busy to think about dinner. I reach for my phone, hoping that I'm making the right call here.
"Golden Fork, how may I help you?"
"Yes, I'd like to place an order for delivery. How many types of chicken do you carry," I ask.
"Oh, we carry 4 main kind, sweet and sour, cashew, lemon, and general."
"Perfect, I would like one order of each, and an order of crab." I never could pronounce whatever those little things are, so I've always refused to try. "The address is 1520 Windmill Lane, but is it possible to pay over the phone?"
I waited for the answer, "Perfect."

***
Mila

"Mila, get these damned unicorns out of the living room! You know how much I hate these fluffy things and the way that they look at me." Papa screamed.
"Yes, I know, let me get them out of your way, Papa."
It was another one of those nights, except that this had apparently been happening all day. I got home from the campus around 3, so that I would have just enough time to freshen up before heading over to Gino's. I had planned on stepping up my game a bit now that I'm fully aware of what type of lifestyle this guy lives. Couldn't have my lab partner thinking that I was trash from the street, especially a lab partner that looked like that.
But when I walked through the door hurrying to get ready, I saw Helen clutching her purse while standing in the midst of what used to be my living room. It looked as though a tornado had run through it. Looking up to the ceiling, I knew just what this scene meant.
"Sweetie, I know it isn't your fault, but I just can't do this anymore. I'm too old to take care of someone with this level of Alzheimer's. I'll do my shift tomorrow, but that will be my last one. You know there are assisted living centers for these types of cases specifically, sweetie," she said, unable to look me in the eye.
You would think that I would be used to hearing these words. Helen is the fifth part-time aide that I've hired to help me out with Papa. His outbursts are few and far between, but when they rear their ugly head, all of the nurses walk the door. I was thinking that sweet Helen wouldn't fall into that category, but it was obvious that I was wrong.
"Don't worry about tomorrow, Helen. I'll handle it," I said, leaving Helen standing in the doorway as I went to search for Papa.
"Hey-yo Pops, where you at," I hollered.
"Mila?" he whimpered from his bedroom.
I came around the corner to see those big blue eyes covered in tears. The outbursts are always ridiculous, but watching him come down from them is the worst. I walked over to the bed, and curled up next to him.
"Mila, why is my house a mess," he asked, his eyebrows furrowed together on his forehead.
"Oh, you know, I just thought it was time for some reorganization in our place. What do you think?" I winked at him, a gesture that usually reminds him of Gram and calms him down. We laid there in silence for about 45 minutes, a ritual that I've loved doing ever since I was a little girl.
"Have you taken your vitamins today, sir," I said, with a sarcastic, yet stern look.
"Well, I don't suppose that I did," Papa said.
"We can't have that, now can we? I'll be right back."
Two hours later, and I can finally see my living room floor, Papa is planted in his recliner watching television, and somehow, all is right in my world. As I was opening the fridge to pick out dinner, the doorbell rang. As if this night needed another witness.
"Yes, delivery for Ms. Thompson?" a young Chinese boy said in a high pitched voice.
"Uh, I'm sorry, you must have the wrong house. I didn't order any Chinese." The boy stared back at me almost like he was satisfied with what I had just said?
"You Mila," he asked.
"Well, yeah, but," I said, but he interrupted.
"Then this your food. Here you are, have a great evening." He handed me the food, then turned tail and jogged straight to his car.
I swear, this night couldn't get any weirder. I decided not to question it since it meant that I wouldn't have to make dinner, and man this bag of food smelled delicious.
"Well, Papa, I guess Chinese is on the menu tonight. How hungry are you?" I asked, knowing full well that he would eat anything that I sat in front of him at this point.
"I could eat," he said as he chuckled; he always thinks he's so cute around dinner time.