Chapter 37

Mila awoke to sunlight and fresh, new thoughts about herself and her brother. She wished she had been older than six at the time of his death. How painful it was to relive this tragedy with no one who had truly known him, and worse, to know she couldn’t possibly have done anything to change the outcome. She knew why Michael had not confided in her; she was a mere child when he was about to have one. And what had become of her niece or nephew? Had that child ever been born? Had it survived? The baby, if it was alive, would be around twenty now… Had it really been so long that Michael had been gone?

She threw back the covers and slung her legs over the side of the bed. By the time she showered and dressed and went downstairs, Mei was already there and waiting with toast and coffee.

“Have you thought any more about that letter?” she asked without preamble.

“No,” Mila admitted, adding cream to her coffee. “I mean, I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about it incessantly, but… I don’t know what I can do. It’s new information, but it just doesn’t change the fact that Michael is dead.”

“Do you really believe that?” the housekeeper asked, leaning forward in her seat. “How can he be dead when part of him lives on?”

“You mean the baby?” Mila asked.

“Of course. Aren’t you at all curious?”

“Of course I’m curious!” Mila said at once. “I may have a niece or nephew out there walking around, but how on earth would I possibly find them? We don’t know anything about them. We don’t even know how far along Marilyn was when Michael wrote that letter. The baby could have been born in the next calendar year even!”

“I understand your frustrations,” Mei said clearly, her English greatly improved under Mila’s constant chatter, “but you must do something. It is your only family left.”

“If the baby survived,” Mila sighed.

“That’s pessimistic thinking,” Mei intoned.

“I know, but I just don’t want to get my hopes up. The truth is that I may never find out anything more about Michael’s baby. I have to accept that before I start this search otherwise…” She trailed off and looked out the window, rolling her bottle of hormone pills absently in her hand. She looked down at the bottle, and set it purposefully on the table, then turned to Mei. “Otherwise it’s like losing him all over again.”

“I understand,” Mei nodded. She stood up and took her cup to the sink. “Maybe that lawyer of yours can help.”

“Maybe. Or maybe all I really need is someone with good ideas,” Mila said, thinking of one specific redhead. “Maybe I just… need someone who’s creative, and who can see things that nobody else can see.”

Mei snorted. “Good luck finding someone like that.”

“Mei,” Mila said. “I’ve made a decision, and I feel like things will be a lot clearer from now on. I don’t want to take these pills any more. I want to be how I’m supposed to be. I feel that it’s the only way I’ll be able to figure things out. Maybe if I’m myself and not the person my mother tried to force me to be, then maybe I can find out why Michael did what he did. He must have had his reasons for wanting to marry that prostitute. He must have loved her a lot to defy our mother.”

Mei said nothing, letting Mila talk as she needed. The young person went on, “I want a love like that in my life, and the only way to find it is to do what he did, to defy our mother and her insidious wishes. I’m not going to let her have this power over me anymore.”

“I think you’ve made the right decision,” Mei said, patting Mila’s hand.

“I’m going to change my name, too,” the young man told the housekeeper. “I don’t want to be Mila, and I’ve never been Milo, that I can remember. I… I’m going to pick something new. Something that suits me.”

“That will be good,” Mei encouraged. “What will you choose?”

“Emerson,” Mila said decidedly. “It was he who said, “Always do what you are afraid to do.” Well, I’m afraid to do this, but I’m still going to do it. His name will remind me why I have chosen this path.”

“Shall I call you Emerson, then?”

“Yes, please,” the new person smiled.

“Well, then, Emerson,” Mei said with a look, “I’m going to sweep the leaves off the walk.”

So saying, she took the broom and departed to sweep the steps on the side porch. Mila turned Emerson sat alone in the kitchen, mulling things over. As much thought as she’d devoted to Michael, she knew it had only been half as much as she’d devoted to ShayAnne. In order to make amends in her relationship, she had to make changes in her life. She was finally growing out of the protective case her mother had placed her in. She was ready to embrace changes she never considered herself strong enough to accept.

She collected her bottle of pills and took it to the trash. With a determined hand, she threw them in the can. Things were going to change, but she was ready now.

She looked forward to a future as the person she should have been all along; not Milo, not Mila, but her own person.

Emerson emerged.