Unexpectedly, Milo - Matthew Dicks [134]
“Okay. And if another demand pops into your head, you’ll tell me?”
“Sure.”
The bowling alley, an AMF center that Milo was pleased to see was modern and clean (some bowling alleys, in Milo’s estimation, were more like an apology for the adjacent bar than an actual sporting venue), was less than three miles from the hotel where Milo hoped to stay for the night. Emma had not bowled since she was a kid and therefore proceeded to roll gutter ball after gutter ball down the lane, much to Milo’s amusement.
At last he had found something at which she did not excel.
While hardly a professional bowler, the constant demands for strikes over the years had afforded Milo a great deal of practice, and he could often score well above two hundred on most days. On this evening, he beat Emma 258 to 34, his largest margin of victory ever. Had the computerized scoring device not continued to display the disparity in their performance on the television screen over their heads, Milo might have stopped keeping score altogether. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that it was probably more difficult to score a 34 than it was to score a 258.
Though it was not the first time that Milo had bowled with a partner as the demand for a strike pounded away in his head, it was the first time that his partner was aware of the demand, and this unexpectedly added to the pressure. It was as if his submariner at the controls knew that he had an audience and wanted to make the most of this unusual moment. Not only was the demand for a strike in need of satisfaction, but now Emma was waiting anxiously for the satisfaction as well. Thankfully, Milo managed his strike on the first ball, causing Emma to leap from the plastic bench and embrace him in the middle of the lane while he attempted to savor the release associated with the toppling of ten short white pins.
“That’s amazing,” she shouted, loud enough to cause the pair of overweight women in the next lane to stare. “How long does it usually take you to get a strike?”
“Actually, I can usually get it on the first or second ball. It’s getting to the alley that is sometimes the problem.”
“Oh.”
Milo watched in amusement as Emma attempted to subtly retract her excitement, slowly returning her arms to her sides and casually stepping back toward the bench, much in the way a man who has tripped attempts to incorporate the stumble into his natural gait, hoping that no one else has noticed.
As if to confirm his claim, Milo bowled four strikes in row before finally missing with a miserable seven-ten split that he failed to pick up for a spare.
After hot dogs and root beer, they made their way to the same hotel where Milo had watched Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid with Lily and Eugene just two days before, parking in the same spot that he’d had on his first visit. It seemed as if weeks had passed since then.
As they entered the lobby and passed by the movie kiosk that had attracted his attention during his last stay, Milo turned to Emma midstride and said, “I’ll pay for your room. No arguments.” Even as he was saying the words, he couldn’t get over how easy it was to discuss sleeping arrangements now that he was no longer hiding anything from her. Just a few hours ago, those two sentences would’ve required planning and precision and would have been laden with anxiety and uncertainty. Now they had come without a second thought or the least of concern.
“Actually, how about one room and two beds?” Emma asked.
“Really?”
“I told you that I don’t sleep very well. I sleep even worse when I’m not in my own bed in my own apartment. If I have any shot at getting some rest tonight, it’ll only happen if I’m not alone.”
“Are you sure?”
“Milo, I’m not making a pass at you. You’re a Star Wars geek who plays Dungeons and Dragons, for God’s sake. And you’re still married, at least for the next six months if your