Unexpectedly, Milo - Matthew Dicks [126]
Surrendering to the pain and pressure of the demands and the impossible circumstances at hand, Milo decided that the time for secrets had come to an end.
“Just give me a minute and I’ll explain everything,” Milo said, then turned the lid on the jar, absorbed the satisfying pop of the pressure seal, and sighed heavily.
chapter 30
Milo knew three things:
First, during the twenty-five minutes that he spent explaining his condition to Emma, she had remained silent, only nodding when appropriate but never interrupting. Perhaps his opening statement (I’m going to tell you something that I’ve never told anyone else in my life) aptly conveyed the difficulty that he might have in relaying his story and for this reason she allowed him to proceed without disruption.
Second, the process of telling his secret, one that he had held sacred since the age of eight, had alleviated some of the pressure that was building inside, although it in no way satisfied any of the demands that continued to occupy his mind.
Third, Christine had called him three times during his twenty-five-minute monologue, judging by the repeated interruption of the “Take a Chance on Me” ring tone that he had assigned his wife long ago (knowing if she was calling, she would never hear his choice of song).
The irony of the situation was also not lost on him. After keeping his demands from his parents, his friends, and his wife, he was finally telling his secret to a woman who lived under an assumed identity and had many secrets of her own.
He began by opening the remaining four jars of jelly, all in Emma’s presence, which proved to be both awkward and embarrassing for him. Despite his attempts to dampen his physical reaction to the popping of each pressure seal, he was unable to hold back the sigh of relief and body shudder that came with each one. Emma had not reacted to the fifth jar, which he had opened while she was still standing outside the Honda, but she was sitting beside him when he had opened the sixth, having moved the opened jars to the backseat. The infinitesimal hiss and audible pop of the seal forced a soft whine from Milo’s nose, and his arms and upper torso nearly convulsed in relief.
Relief and embarrassment, satisfaction and shame, washed over him all at once. As the pressure of the demands decreased with the opening of the jar, the mortification associated with carrying out the process in the presence of a witness began to replace the space in his mind that the demand had occupied.
Emma would say later that she had tried not to laugh, but to Milo, it seemed as if no effort had been made at all. As his body shuddered in relief, the silence of the car was broken by a snort from Emma, the kind of swallowed-up laugh that escapes a person’s nose and eventually forces open the mouth. “Sorry,” she said. “But what the hell is going on?”
Before he spoke, Milo took a deep breath and checked to see if the demand that had been searing his brain for hours was gone. As he had expected, it was not. Among the pileup of demands still ravaging his mind, the pressure of the pressure seals remained, grinding on in the form of a mind-numbing headache among the echoing clutter.
“Just give me a minute,” Milo snapped, and immediately regretted doing so. “Sorry. It’s just that I’ve got to get these jars open first. Then I can explain. Okay?”
“Oh,” Emma said, reaching for and grabbing a jar from Milo’s lap before he could stop her. In seconds, she was holding the jar in her left hand, her right hand positioned on the lid, ready to open.
“No!” he shouted, his voice sounding enormous in the confines of the automobile. Emma flinched at the sudden boom of his voice, releasing the jelly jar, which struck the edge of the upholstered seat, reversed rotation, and then struck the carpeted floor between Emma’s legs with a thud. Milo released the jar in his own hands and lunged for it, and as he did so, the jars in his lap, including the one that had just been in his hand, clanked together, glass on glass, before tumbling