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• • •The next morning, Milo was gone when I woke up. Panic came over me when I opened the bedroom door and found the living room empty. I walked around the room feeling really damn anxious until I saw his bag tucked away behind the couch. I let out a big sigh of relief and went to splash some water on my face to calm down. I’d just finished brushing my teeth in the bathroom when the sound of the door clanking open and closed in the other room caught my attention.
“Milo?” I called.
“Yes, dear.”
I smiled and finished my morning routine. When I walked out, I found Milo with his feet propped up on the coffee table and a giant cup of coffee in his hand. He leaned forward and lifted a second cup. “For you, sis.”
“Thank you.” I plopped down on the couch and tucked my legs underneath me. Peeling back the plastic tab on the cup, I said, “You were up early this morning.”
He nodded. “I had a few things on my mind that I needed to get done.”
I sipped. “Like what?”
Milo pulled some folded-up papers out of his back pocket. “Well, for starters, I talked to the front desk about extending our room for another night. They said no problem. I also got us tickets to the hop-on-hop-off tour bus. You know the big, red double decker you see around town?”
“Oh. Okay. That sounds like fun.”
“I walked over to the tourism office a few blocks away and asked if they knew any good areas to take pictures. The woman I spoke to happened to be into photography as a hobby.” He unfolded a map. “She circled a bunch of places she thought you might like. Most of them are not too far from different stops along the bus-tour route.”
“That was really thoughtful. Thank you. I can’t wait to check out the city some more. But what about you? If we’re doing an afternoon of photography for me, we should do something you like to do, too.”
Milo wiggled his brows. “We’ll do that when we’re back here in three months.”
I laughed. “I’m serious. This is both of our adventure.”
“I did make some plans for me, too. On my way home from getting the coffees, I passed a bar that had a sign hanging in the window about an open mic night tonight. So I signed up.”
“You’re going to sing again?”
He smiled. “I am. As much as I enjoyed our duet, I think it’s time I got up there on my own. It’s been a long time coming.”
I smiled. “You’re full of shit that you enjoyed our duet. But that’s okay. I’m excited you’re going to sing again. Sounds like you had a productive morning while my lazy ass was in bed.”
“I made one other plan for us.”
“What’s that?”
He locked eyes with me. “I booked a room for us, three months from today.”
My heart started to race. “Oh wow! That’s so exciting. What’s the date?”
“You’re never going to believe it. I had to count ninety days from today three times to make sure I’d gotten it right.”
“Why? What’s the date?”
Milo deadpanned. “Valentine’s Day.”
“Oh my God!” I clapped my hands together. “That’s totally perfect.”
“I thought so, too. Unless of course you stand me up in three months. Then that would be just sad.”
“Valentine’s Day. It’s...” I shook my head. “It’s…I don’t even have words for what it is.”
Milo smiled sheepishly. “I do. Too damn far away.”• • •“If we get off in the Garden District…” Milo held up the city map he’d picked up this morning at the visitors’ center and pointed to an area. “The woman said there are a lot of places to take pictures. There’s a neighborhood with big, old Victorian mansions, and she said there are a few cemeteries people like to photograph in, too.”
“Ooooh. That sounds good. I was looking at the welcome book in the hotel yesterday and saw some pictures of those mansions, and I love cemeteries.”
After two more stops, we hopped off the bus and walked a few minutes through the Garden District. The area was gorgeous. Lots of ornate period homes with tall oak canopies draping over the streets and colorful hibiscus and crepe myrtle dotting manicured lawns. Some of the mansions had plaques outside, and the houses dated back almost two-hundred years. I could feel the history as we walked around.
“When I was a kid, I wanted a Victorian dollhouse more than anything,” I said. “It was the first item at the top on my Christmas list from ages five to eleven.”
“Oh yeah? Did you finally get one?”
I shook my head. “My parents didn’t buy me large or fragile toys because we’d have to leave them behind when we moved. I mentioned it to my ex once, though, and he bought one of those kits to make me one. It was actually really sweet.”
