“Well, he’s no longer seventeen and he legally changed his last name to Danger. He’s a delivery driver now but from what I’ve heard, he can still land a pretty sick ollie.”

He trails off and gives me a wry look, and that’s it. I can’t help laughing. This is the allure of Milo, the reason I can’t be mad at him even though he left me alone here to care for Dad, the reason I’ve never been able to be mad at him no matter what crap he pulls. The time he took my junior-year prom dress, the one I was saving because I loved it so much, and used it for a zombie bride costume. The time he ended up leaving that same junior prom with my prom date. All the times he was either too clueless or self-absorbed to notice anyone but himself—I’ve forgiven it all.

“Milo.” I look at him until he looks me in the eye. “What’s the deal with Fred?”

“We’ve been together for a few months,” Milo says. “He’s great, right?”

“I mean . . .” I peer over the half wall at Fred, who’s on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. “Yeah. What does he do? Like, for work, if you guys work at all . . . ?”

“We work,” Milo says, an edge to his voice. “Fred’s a model.”

“Oh,” I say, still staring at Fred. “That makes sense.”

“And I work—well, worked—in an upscale men’s boutique. We met because Fred was a customer.”

I frown. Milo says “upscale men’s boutique” the way a server at a pretentious restaurant says “house-made artisanal sausage” when everyone knows it’s just meat stuffed in a tube.

“And he’s kind, and he’s funny, and, I don’t know. This feels . . . different than all the other guys I’ve dated.”

“So you’re settling down with Fred?”

He pokes my shoulder. “Settling down isn’t so bad. You should try it.”

I’ve never known Milo in a relationship, and not just because he’s been living in another state for the past several years. He just never seemed all that interested in dating, but the way he’s looking at Fred is something I’ve never seen on him before.

“Also, the man can put together a puzzle.”

“Um,” I say. “Is that some kind of euphemism?”

Milo shoots me a look of disgust and pokes me in the shoulder again. “No, you perv. That’s what we do for fun—puzzles. You really get to know someone when you’re putting together a thousand-piecer of hot air balloons. Puzzles take patience. Attention to detail. Stamina.”

I shake my head. “So what are you guys gonna do for work while you’re here?”

Milo shrugs. “I’ll get a job at a store.”

I’d question his nonchalance, but he’s right—this is the way it always works for Milo. Retail is where he shines, probably because he can talk to anyone and, after five minutes, know the name of their first pet and convince them to buy $500 worth of merchandise.