Milo - Meet the Parents (Patreon)

The sun was bright. Living within a world where the light didn’t touch, where lanterns provided the nutrients for plants to grow and the streets were lit with candles to illuminate the darkest corners, created a sense of blindness. So when Milo and I stepped through the gate, it took the two of us a long moment to even adjust to the sun. Dappled as it was through the trees, it still caused my eyes to water and strangely made me feel like I was going to sneeze.

“Why?” Milo groused. “Who would enjoy this?” His face was scrunched as he dipped his head lower to try and block out some of the light. His hair fell messily in front of his eyes, casting shadows across his face.

Blinking, I looked around. We emerged from the gate and stepped into a maple grove. The trees stood tall and glittered with red and orange leaves swaying softly in an apple sweet wind.  Fallen logs had tiny little mushrooms sprouting from their depths, the caps looking like ripe fruit as opposed to the toadstools I had seen in Hazel’s garden.

“It’s hot,” Milo said. “And there’s bugs.”

I looked at him. The fae realm. It was the first time I had seen him here. The place he was born. While Milo had crossed over a few times by now, this was the first time I had gone with him. Thus far, he had tried to do these trips on his own.  One thing I had learned about Milo through the years was that when he was put into a high emotional situation, he liked to do things at his own pace. Mulling it over in his head until he got it straight. So I sat back. Let him discover his birth place. And then at night when he would come home and sneak into bed with me, wrapping his amber scent around me.

“Your freckles pop out here.”

Milo glared at me. But the dotted freckles up and down his arms and face were far more prominent than they were in the dark.

“You’re covered in them,” I marveled. I saw the redness spread across his skin with embarrassment, somehow coloring his face even more.

“Leave me alone,” he muttered. He grabbed at me, wrapping both his arms around my waist and tugging me into his arms.

“Seriously, how have I never known before? It’s like a second skin.”

“I will throw you in the creek,” he said, swinging me towards a small trickling brook as a threat.

There was a small giggle that came from the trees, the leaves shivering in a strange way. I snapped my gaze upwards, catching sight of the way the limbs moved, revealing little glimmers of iridescent wings within.

“Are those pixies?” I whispered.

“Yes. Brutal little fuckers,” Milo said, guiding me down the orchard path. “First time I came here they threw acorns at me. And the acorns here explode like mini bombs. They were waging a full on war in these woods.”

I glanced upwards, watching as bugged eyes peered out at me. They reminded me of the wisps back at Hazel’s except there was a light in their gaze that was far more mischievous.

“What’s making them behave this time?” I asked.

Milo looked up. “They know who I am now. Apparently they don’t fuck with people if they belong.”  He slung an arm around me in a display that claimed me as his.  I could see the way he was looking at the pixies. Knowing Milo, he was not innocent in the pixie vs. Gatekeeper war.

The road we were on was wide and winding, bordered with small white flowers. The roots of the orchard protruded from the ground, creating small hovels for the creatures that lived in the woods. Every once in a while, we came across small fox statues embedded in the land, its nine tails swooping out from behind.  Plates of nuts and berries were placed in front of them like an offering while perfectly shiny apples were piled nearby.

“What are those?” I asked.

“Offerings to the gods of these woods,” Milo said. “It’s said that the goddess of the autumnal court is a kitsune. She guards these woods, producing food and providing for the land. Nourishing both fae and fauna. People who are trying to have children, or are trying to produce a good harvest, pray to her. Leave her small offerings to gain her favor.”

I looked around the world. At the onslaught of bright and vibrant colors. The way that the grass and wind seemed to play together. Everything felt far more whimsical than back home.

There was a sprawling garden at the edge of the tree line with fat pumpkins and large stalks of corn. Beyond that, was a large tree, a door carved into the front. Overflowing baskets of produce and flowers sat outside the door.  The land looked worked. It looked well lived in. The gate that separated the orchard and home was made from wood from the apple forest and the gate was tied shut with a ring of witch bells.

“Is this it?” I asked nervously.

Milo squeezed my hand. “Yeah.”

Before we could go any further the front door opened. A tall, wide hipped woman stepped out, a basket tucked under her arm. Her hair tumbled past one shoulder, thick and strawberry blonde and the freckles across the bridge of her nose and bare arms stood out from here. Her amber eyes were focusing on something off to her right as she stepped down into her yard, a couple little foxes running around her feet.

Milo was frozen by my side, just staring at the woman.  “Is that her?” I asked, holding him close.

Her eyes shot up when she heard my voice, narrowing as she saw me but widening in delight upon looking at Milo. “Pup? Is that you?”

“Hey, ma.”

A smile spread wide across her face as she set aside her basket and rushed over to us, pushing through the gate. She threw her arms around Milo, pulling his body close and tucking his head against her shoulder.

“Oh, my boy. I wasn’t expecting you for another week. Look at you!” She jostled him back and forth, switching between hugging him close and pushing him away so she could take him all in. “You’re not eating enough. Now, I told you, you need to start gettin’ some fat on your body. I’m gonna have to feed you more. Send some extra food home with you.”

She looked out of the corner of her eye at me, then looked back to Milo. When the man still didn’t say anything, she tapped him on the shoulder with a sharp little wrap of her knuckles.

Milo jumped. “What the fu– hell?”

“I’ve been standing here now for an entire minute and you haven’t introduced me to this beautiful individual next to you.”

Milo wiped a hand over his face. “Ma, this is my…” he looked at me. “What are we calling each other now? Partner? Lover? Boss?”

I shook my head, holding out my hand. “I’m the one who puts up with your son,” I said with a small laugh.

With her hands on her hips, she just stared at my hand before tsking at me and pulling me in for a warm hug. “Now that’s a tall order,” she said. Her hug had me melting. She was soft and smelled of a brisk fall wind and had an air of comfort around her that had so much power beneath.

When she pulled away, she had a knowing little look on her face. “Oh, I like you. I can tell you’re good for him. Now come on. Come inside. I got an apple pie cooling on the window sill. And I’m going to whip something up for dinner really quick. How long are you staying? That gate holding just fine? Pup, you looked a little tired the last time you were here. You sure you’re okay to keep it all open?”

“Ma, I’m fine,” he muttered. I had to hold back my laughter. Milo looked nearly bashful with the way she was fussing over him.

“I’ll be the one to tell you whether or not you’re fine and I can hear your stomach growling from here. Now go and grab those bushels over there and bring them in the house. Your Partner/lover/boss and I are going to go get acquainted.”

“Oy! I didn’t come here for manual labor.” Though I could see it. He was excited to do something for his mom. She was waving his complaint off and rolling her eyes as she opened the door for me.

Despite her home being a tree, it was a full cottage inside. The roots came up to form different rooms and the kitchen was completely open to the back yard with weaving branches making up the walls and letting swaths of buttery light within. The house itself smelled like baked bread and dried fruit. There was a fire going deep within a clay oven, heating the house comfortably. Every inch was cluttered with bowls and pots and woven baskets. It felt like home.

“I’m Andi, by the way,” she said, tying her hair back. Her eyes were following me, looking me up and down. “You are gorgeous, you know that? The Night Market, yeah? Milo told me about your situation. Believe you me, I got after that boy of mine. Honestly. Thinking he can take everything on himself. You look smart as a whip. Should have told you about it. Oh, I know. I know. You technically did know but not in that state. But, that’s neither here nor there. Do you like apple butter or plum butter?”

I felt overwhelmed as this woman talked. The love she had for her son poured off her in reverence and I couldn’t help but feel slightly emotional about it. “Whatever you have on hand.”

“I have both.” She cut off a slice of fresh bread and put two bowls of preserves down next to me. “Now,” she said, sitting down across from me. “How are you two doing?”

I stopped, my hand halfway to the bread.

“I know we just met but honey, this is a lot. I love my son. More than anything in this world. But, when I heard everything that had happened? To his life. To your life. You okay?”

“I don’t know how to answer that.”

She sighed, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms. “I’m not going to mother you. I have to stop myself from being overbearing and mothering him.”

I laughed a little. “I think he’d actually be okay with that.”

“In due time. But what I’m worried about is the two of you. I’m not here to judge. I’m not here to dictate anything. I’m just here to be a listening ear and rat him out to you when he comes here complaining about things.”

“He comes here complaining?” I asked.

“Not yet but you better believe I’ll get after him if he does. Now eat.”

The door opened as Milo kicked in a few crates. “Why are you growing all this? It’s just you out here.”

“People still got to eat, Pup.”

Milo placed the crates down, coming over to the table and placing a kiss on my cheek. “She scaring you yet?”

“I am not scary,” Andi said. “Now sit your ass down so I can feed you.”

Milo plopped down next to me. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. There was an ease to his face. An eagerness in which he looked around the home.  Like he was trying to imagine what it would have been like to grow up here and was excited to see what the future held. When we had found out where Andi was within the fae realm, Milo had left that night. Since then, he made a point of going to visit his mother whenever he could, but he was quiet when he came home. He was torn. His life now in two separate places.

Andi hummed as she swayed around the kitchen, making a meal out of nothing in the matter of moments. I leaned my head against Milo’s shoulder, feeling him curl his arm around my shoulders.

“Do you want me to fix the back fence while I’m here?” Milo asked.

Andi looked over her shoulder. “How long are you staying? I would figure the Night Market and the Gatekeeper can’t be gone for a long time.”

“Mal’s got it,” Milo dismissed.

Andi tutted at that. “Now pup, you know I want you here. We have a lot of time to make up for. But I’m not going anywhere, baby. If you need to get home and take care of some responsibilities I’m not going to hold it against you. I got Nolan to fix the fence if I really need it.”

“Nolan,” Milo spat a little.

I raised my brow, looking at him. It was the first time I had even heard the name. “Who is Nolan?”

“No one,” he muttered under his breath..

“Milo, now don’t you go and be like that,” Andi scolded. “You don’t get to go passing judgements on my lovers.”

“Why not? You were with dad.”

The fire gutted completely out and the foxes that were sitting at the windowsills all skittered away.  Slowly, Andi turned to us, her amber eyes glowing bright in the dimmer light.  She stared her son down, her face hardened as she walked slowly to the table.

Milo’s face went pale.

“Now, pup. You go out there and you fix whatever it is you want,” she said slowly. “Sounds like you need to take a minute to pause and reflect on a few things and come back to your mama with a bit more of a kinder tone.”

I expect Milo to fight. He never had been one to back down. But his head lowered a bit, his cheeks pink with shame. Rising, he nodded to her. “Yes, ma’am.”  Before he walked away though, Andi took him by the shoulder, cupping his cheek.

“Now pup, I know you got a lot of anger in you. I don’t blame you for it. And that man that donated some dna to help make you, will be getting what comes as soon as I find him. But you don’t get to come to my home, and treat me like that. You hear?”

Milo swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry.”

“You misspoke. Now you go take a walk before you do it again.” She kissed his cheek and then pushed him along, watching him with her hands on her hips as he walked out of the house and out towards the back gates. She sighed, shaking her head a bit. “That poor boy.”

“He told you everything?” I asked.

She hummed a bit in response, turning back to the dining table and sitting down across from me. The fire relit itself and the foxkin came back.  “He told me some of it. I figured out what happened to him as a child. That boy needed me around and I wasn’t there. And I will kill the man that took him from me.”

When her eyes connected with mine, she smiled again. “But let’s not go talking about that. I want to get to know you. I want to turn over a new leaf. I want this past of ours to not control us any further and…” she trailed off. “Oh, I’m sorry, darlin’. Old wounds have yet to heal for us all.”

“It’s okay.” I didn’t know the entirety of the story, but I could see it. The way Milo’s words hurt. The way she still parented him through it all. I wondered who he would be if she had been there.

When Andi reached out and took my hand, I felt a bolt of power come through me. The world beneath my feet shifted as like called to like. I looked up at her, eyes widening and lips parting. There was power within her. More so than could be contained. I thought of the trees outside, the lush gardens and the people who traveled here for her food.

Andi was far more than she let on.

“You are good for him,” she said. “Thank you for caring so much for my baby.”

“I–” I felt my throat close as I was oddly choked up over the sentiment. Milo and I were on a rocky path. Had been for a long time. But the love was there. So was the care. I couldn’t imagine losing him in any capacity. And he was this woman's son and had been ripped from her arms for far too long. “Mal really does have it back home,” I told her. “We’d like to stay. At least for the night.”

She grinned. “Well then. I’ll have to break out some of my homemade moonshine.”

“And maybe invite that Nolan person over?”

Andi tipped her head back and laughed. It was done with such a carefree motion that it reminded me of Milo. “Oh, do you wish to see him squirm? He hates that man. No one will be good enough for his mama and I kind of love it.”

“Invite him,” I told her. “I think Milo will be on his best behavior tonight.”

“Done.” Getting up from the table, she looked out the back window where Milo was beginning to mend the fence. She shook her head, tutting at the sight of him. “Too skinny,” she muttered. “Come on over here,” she called back to me. “I’m gonna teach you how to make foods he’ll actually eat. Such a picky little pup he is. We need to fatten him up.”

Getting up, I went over to the stove, standing shoulder in shoulder with Milo’s mother. Out in the back, Milo began tearing apart the fence in the late afternoon sun, foxes and sprites hesitantly coming out to watch him.

“Watch,” Andi whispered.

I stared out at where she was pointing and when no one was looking, Milo knelt down, petting the little foxes and talking to the pixies that had come out. He had a few acorns in his pocket that he offered to them.

“Big old softie,” Andi laughed.

As the sun beat down outside and the kitchen filled with the smells of home, I sighed. I wanted this for him. I wanted Milo to be here more. To see the sun.  And as I looked at the woman out of the corner of my eye, seeing similar features to the boy she had lost, my heart ached for the two of them.

“Oh hush, child,” Andi said. “I can hear your thoughts from here. Stop being so sentimental and pass me the oregano. We’re going to make Milo’s favorite.”

I looked at her. “What’s that?” I actually didn’t know.

“Humble pie,” she grinned.

I had a feeling that Andi and I were going to become really good friends.