10
Singer
13 days with Miles
Singer stood in his kitchen, coffee cup in hand, ghost of Jake’s kiss still on his lips: a pillar of strength. “I didn’t know we were expecting you this morning, Mother.” He sounded firm. He sounded unmoved by Mother’s rather horrifying appearance at eleven o’clock on a Sunday morning.
It all went downhill from there.
He gave them an hour before texting—begging—Jake to come home. He added, Joking. He doubted that Jake missed the real message, which was: So not joking.
Jake replied, Donuts and coffee. Requests?
He thumped his head against the wall of the bathroom, where he was—okay, be honest—hiding from his mother. Had it really only been an hour? It felt like he’d been having the same awkward conversation with her for weeks.
There was nothing for it. H
