“Was it recent?” I ask.
I don’t know many people who don’t have their parents, and it’s just one more thing that makes mewantto be close to Miles. He understands not having parents at a point in your life that can be tough. You need them when you’re young, but you need them when you’re older, too. They’ve already been through this phase in life, and who better to ask for advice than them?
“Almost eight years ago. Audrey was pregnant. The stress actually put her into early labor, and she ended up in the hospital for a while.”
“That’s horrible.”
“It was, but we made the best of it.”
“You do that a lot, don’t you?”
“Do what?” he asks.
“Be positive for everyone around you. See the best in things.”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, then says, “I try. It comes easier for me than it does for other people, I guess.”
“Do you ever feel sad?” I ask, my voice low. Almost a whisper, as if the words don’t want to come out.
“Sometimes.”
“What makes you sad?”
“I don’t know,” he says softly. “I worry about my sister and Noah a lot. She’s a nurse. Her job is stressful. I don’t think she’s actually happy with her life; she’s just surviving, you know? But she won’t do anything about it.”
I know that feeling all too well… because it’s me. My life. Exactly what I’m doing.
“Tell me what your perfect life would be like,” I say as I settle into the couch and lower the volume on the TV. I put the phone on speaker and lay it on my chest to listen to Miles speak.
We talked about this a little bit the other day, but I want to hear more. I want to know the kind of life Miles imagines living.
“I like where I live, but ideally, I’d love to have side-by-side houses with Audrey in a neighborhood with the best schools. I want a dog, something big and cuddly. Like a St. Bernard, maybe.”
I huff a laugh. “They’re bigger than you.”
“That’s the point,” he says, and I hear the smile in his voice. “I want kids. At least two. Maybe three. To get married.”
Talking about it today, he sounds more confident. Either because it’s easier telling me or because he’s thought about it since we spoke about this last time and now he’s sure. Hearing him talk about this is like my favorite bedtime story. It puts happy images and thoughts in my head.
“Marriage isn’t everything everyone makes it out to be,” I say with a sigh.
“I think marriage is what you make of it,” he says quickly. “It can be hard if you don’t work at it, but it can also be beautiful.”
Beautiful… I used to think the same. Once upon a time, when I was naive.
“I want that for my sister, too, even though she’d tell you she doesn’t. I know she’s lying. Noah’s father is a prick. She hasn’t heard a word from him since he was born, so she gives Noah all of her attention.”
“Is that why she doesn’t date? Is she too busy?”
“That’s her excuse, but she admitted to me the other day she’s scared Noah will get attached. And then it won’t work out, and…”
“And then her son is upset and missing someone who has no obligation to be in his life. Yeah, that’s rough.”
“What about you?” he asks.
“What about me?”
“Your life. What would it look like ideally?”
