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“Oh, goodness. Beer it is.”
Various conversations hummed in the background, along with the familiar sounds from the kitchen. The smell of garlic was strong tonight, which meant Abe was in charge of the breadsticks. He was always a little heavy-handed with the garlic. A few minutes later, Abe brought Milo’s beer to the table and sat across from him. “What’s going on, brother?”
Milo looked at the bottle, then took a drink. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
Abe studied him for a moment. “Has to be a woman, and the only woman currently in a position to discombobulate you is Wilda. What happened?”
“Don’t you have pizzas to make?”
“I’m on my ten.” He smiled. “So, give me the short version.”
Milo sighed. “Me, Wilda, sex, regret on her part, not mine, her avoiding me, me currently avoiding her.” Condensation pooled under the beer bottle, and Milo folded a napkin and put it beneath it.
“Got it.” Abe grinned. “Nothing is ever easy for you, is it? First Rachel, now Wilda.”
“Rachel didn’t really count. That never had a chance.”
“You thought you had a chance with Wilda?”
“A hope, I guess.” He drank some more beer. “Now…who knows?”
“I’ll tell you what I’ve learned from being married. Shut up and listen.”
Milo laughed. “Wow.”
“It’s true. How long has this been going on?”
“It was just last night.”
“Well, hell. Give it some time. Go home, man, and talk to her. Or…” He held up a finger. “Listen.” Gentry whistled from the kitchen, and Abe waved to him. “Duty calls.” He stood. “Everything is going to work out. I have faith in you and Wilda.” He adjusted his black apron, brushed some flour off it, then left the table. Maggie was approaching with Milo’s pizza, and Abe stopped her and kissed her as they passed. She arrived at the table and set the pizza down.
“Anything else?”
Milo held up his bottle. “I’ll take another one of these.”
She took the empty bottle. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
The barbecue chicken pizza didn’t taste as good as Milo had hoped when he ordered it. He ate half, then pushed the pan aside. When Maggie came with a box, he asked for a third beer. She didn’t question it, but Gentry delivered it to the table.
“Are you here to cut me off?”
Gentry sat down. “No, but Luke is on his way to drive you home when you’re ready to go.” He held out his hand, and Milo dug his keys from his pocket and dropped them into it. “I’ll be ready to go after this. Frenchie’s ready to go home.”
“I’m here if…”
“I know.”
Gentry stood. “Try to get some sleep tonight.”
“That’s the plan.”
By the time Luke arrived, Milo was ready to go. He picked up Frenchie and got to his feet, holding onto the table for a minute to steady himself.
Luke walked up to him. “Ready to go home?”
“Yeah. Not sure how I’m going to get to work in the morning without my car, though.”
