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“Okay, are we done with the re-enactments? We’ve got to hit Munich before six if we want to make the concert,” Liam reminds us.
Phoebe groans. “I hope that’s where I find my prince. So far, the men we’ve encountered don’t fit my checklist of men I want to run away with.”
With my backpack safely secured on, I lean over to help Phoebe with hers.
“Your list involves your prince owning a castle. C’mon, like can you at least tone it down? You’re getting pickier with old age. When we were kids, you were willing to marry that kid Thomas what’s-his-face who walked around picking his nose in the schoolyard.”
“Firstly, Thomas is now a successful doctor… of feet or something gross like that. Second, look around you? There are castles everywhere. We’re not back in Kansas, Toto.”
I refuse to waste another minute of this trip arguing about Phoebe’s expensive taste in men, motioning for the two of them to haul ass so we don’t miss our next adventure.
***
Our bus has been waiting at the bus stop, blinkers on and ready to leave us behind. We made it, running with no time to spare, and much like many of the other buses we rode, it’s full of passengers traveling to different destinations.
Liam is sitting next to a milkmaid. It’s enough to make us chuckle in the seat behind him as he casually tries to strike up a conversation with her broken English about milking cows. You can’t ignore her cute outfit—tunic-style dress in cornflower blue. Her breasts are huge. I’m certain it’s the reason why Liam chose that seat and not the one on the left of us which sits an elderly lady knitting what looks like a giant scarf.
It’s good to see him being a regular guy, and in just a short time, our relationship has evolved. It’s weird for me to say I’m proud of him for trying to pick up a milkmaid, but I truly am.
“Are you okay, Mils?” Phoebe pulls a granola bar out of her pocket and offers me half.
I take the piece, not realizing how hungry I am. “Thanks, and yeah, why not?”
“You’ve been quieter today… like something’s bothering you, and I think I know what but I realize we made that stupid pact not to talk about it. Just letting you know I’m happy to break that pact.”
The pact was to avoid talking about him. I can’t even say his name to myself.
“No,” I remind her sternly, “No breaking of the pact. I’m just anxious to see Flynn tonight. It’s like the stars aligned. We’re here, and Flynn’s new band is on this worldwide tour. That drummer going to rehab and breaking his contract was the perfect chance for Flynn. I mean, they’re massive right now, and thankfully, Flynn was able to learn the songs and join them in such a short time. Mama is so darn proud of him. You should have seen her face when he FaceTimed us with the news. It made me so happy seeing her happy. I kind of get it now.”
Phoebe chews loudly on her bar. “Get what?”
“What makes her happy is seeing us live our lives. We’re both doing something for ourselves, and if that makes her happy, then I’ll continue to do that.”
Phoebe places her hand on mine. “Milly, I’m glad you finally see that. She’s so settled watching the two of you live your lives. I know she’s still unwell but just know that she’s getting the best help she can.”
“I know.” I smile, finally. “She has the best care and people around her. In three weeks, we’ll be back home, and hopefully, she and I can take some small road trips when she’s feeling better.”
Leaning my head against the window, I stare outside and admire the beautiful scenery. With the sun shining through the glass and caressing my face with its warmth, I begin to doze off, barely able to keep my eyes open.
***
Three hours later, our feet land on the pavement with our trusty map out trying to locate the place where we’re staying. Part of our journey, we made a pact to leave cells behind. We h
ave a GoPro and our paper maps which Phoebe hates, so she left it up to Liam and me to navigate.
“We’re located just over there.” He points to a building with a questionable neon sign telling us it’s the hostel we booked. Liam pulls me aside as Phoebe bends down, mumbling to herself as she ties her shoelace. “Mills, the milkmaid gave me her number.”
“She has a phone?”
“Yes, no. She’s staying with an aunt.”
I laugh. “And you’re telling me because?”
“She, um… kinda wants to catch up tonight for a drink.”
“Of milk?”
He lets out a frustrated groan. “Would you be serious? No, a drink, like in a bar.”
