She held up her hands. “I’m not planning anything.” But her tone said differently. “He’s not a bad looking young man, once you get past all the tattoos and piercings,” he said and Milo frowned.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Claire blinked at him for several moments, waiting for him to catch up but Milo was more interested in a weird bit of pulp in his juice and held the glass up to the light. “You’re spending a lot of time together and you have a lot in common.”
“Like what? Other than our work,” Milo said, sincerely curious as to what else they might have in common.
Her eyes narrowed. “Lots of things.”
“Like?” Milo set his cup down and crossed his arms over his chest. His mother was acting weird, which wasn’t weird in itself because she was always weird. But she was being extra weird at the moment. “Name four things we have in common that aren’t related to our work or our studies,” he challenged. Those were theonlythings he could think of.
“I can do that!” Claire said with a confident huff. “Easily.” Her hip bounced as she tapped her chin. “Lots of things.”
“You’re stalling.”
“Am not.” She said, then gasped. “You’re both brothers! Elio can probably sympathize with just about anything you’re going through with Luna—good or bad.”
“Okay…” Milo couldn’t deny that. He and Elio were definitely close to their siblings and were devoted to their families.
“You still live with your relatives, that has to have its pros and cons,” Claire mused and held up two fingers.
“That’s true. We’re both privileged in that our families have plenty of room and allow us to stay wherever we want. I can’t see how that’s a con, in my case.”
“Awww!” Claire rose on her tiptoes so she could squeeze his cheeks and kiss him. “Best son ever.”
“I know.” He laughed softly. “You still have two more.”
“I didn’t forget.” She flipped open the pizza boxes and handed Milo a stack of plates. “You both have tattoos.”
“Ha!” Milo set them down, shaking his head. “Becauseyouwon that dare and said it would be the coolest Mother’s Day gift ever.”
“It was!” She jabbed the spot on his pelvis, just below the waistband of his jeans, where a quarter-sized Pluto was permanently scratched into his skin. Her tattoo was identical but had Milo’s name and birthday, while his said “Justice For Pluto, 1930-2006.”
“Elio wouldn’t think my tattoo is cool. He’d probably think it was childish.”
“Don’t say that and he wouldn’t!” she said with a wag of her finger. “You said the two of you clicked. You wouldn’t have clicked if he was a jerk.”
“No, he probably wouldn’t say it was childish, but he wouldn’t be impressed.”
“Nonsense. Oh, oh, oh!” She was so proud of herself. “You both like Italian food! He’s half-Italian so he has to like Italian food, right?”
“I like a lot of foods. So does Elio.”
“That’s five!” Claire cheered, then leaned towards the living room. “Luna, come and get your pizza!”
“We both like food,” Milo said as he nodded. “You’re the reason I’m so smart.”
“Not according to your father. I’m sure there’s more but I barely know Elio. We were introduced at the family Christmas party but that was it.”
Milo hadn’t been up to being social that night either so he shrugged as he stacked four slices on his plate. “There’s another thing,” he noted under his breath, not wanting to encourage Claire. Neither of them enjoyed crowded, noisy spaces, Elio was just more vocal about it.
“The tent is all set up and I have everything I need for later,” Luna informed them as she returned in her pajamas and accepted a plate.
“That has to be a record. Take these paper towels, too,” Claire said as she handed Luna a roll.
It was tucked under her arm and Luna carried her plate back to the living room with both hands. “Hurry up!”
“Chill out! I just got home!” Milo called back, rolling his eyes at Claire.
