He eases the brakes as he approaches the red light. In the passenger seat sits a petite redheaded girl. "I had a great time, Milton," she says, softly touching his leg. She smiles at him as the light turns to green.

"Me too," he tells her, letting up on the clutch and pressing the gas. "Hanging out with you the past few nights has been wonderful." Shifting gears, he glances at her and then back at the road. "You know, the night is still young, and there's a great mom and pop ice cream shop in the next town over. We could go grab a couple floats, if you want."

"I don't know, Milton. I'm still full," she responds. "Maybe we should just get one instead of two."

"But if we only get one," he says while sliding into third, "then we'd have to…" He stops talking upon he realizing what she is hinting at. He looks in her direction and sees she her smiling shyly. "One root beer float it is, then." He presses in the clutch and pops it into fourth gear as he passes by the sign that reads, "Now Leaving Go City."

Looking up from the papers in front of him, he hears the sound of the front door knob slowly turning. The door opens with a slight creak and Milton slips in. He shuts the door quietly. "Long date, Milty?"

Milton spins around, surprised to see his older brother sitting at the kitchen table. "Oh hey, Hermes," Milton responds, walking through the living room. "We went to Mom and Pop's Ice Cream Shop and grabbed a root beer float."

"One float for the two of you? Sounds like your date went very well," the older brother says, sitting back in his chair. "And I've told you many times not to call me Hermes."

"It was her idea to split one," Milton explains, grabbing a drink from fridge. "And I'll stop calling you Hermes when you stop calling me Milty." He plops down in the chair opposite of his brother. "Heck, I'll even settle for Mil or possibly Mel, but not Milty."

"That's because she likes you," the elder brother tells him, leaning forward and putting his clasped hands on the table. "You used to like the name Milty."

"I was six, Herman." Milton pops the top of his can and takes a sip. "A lot changes in two decades." He leans back and sighs. "It's a good thing she likes me," he says quietly as he turns his gaze towards the kitchen window, "because I know I'm starting to like her."

"That's great, Milton," Herman says with a smile. "I haven't seen you like this over a girl since Bonnie."

Milton crosses his arms and looks straight at his brother "Yeah well, Bonnie was…" he sighs, "is a great girl. It's not easy finding someone to replace her."

"Miranda is not a replacement for Bonnie," Herman replies, crossing his arms as well.

"Look, I used to date Bonnie. We broke up. Now I am dating Miranda. Sounds to me like I replaced one with the other."

"That's because you are looking at it all wrong. Relationships aren't like parts to a car. If a relationship breaks down, you don't just throw it away and plug in a new one and forget about it like you would with a transmission."

"Have you been watching Dr. Phil again?" Milton asks.

"Why?"

"Because your advice is sounding as asinine as that windbag's."

"Look, Milton, you shouldn't think of Miranda as a replacement for Bonnie. You need to move on from Bonnie and I think Miranda is just the girl to help you do that."

"Are you done yet?" Milton asks his brother.

"Yes, and stop being so cranky. You're supposed to be in a good mood after having a good date."

"I am in a good mood," the younger one says and then finishes his drink. "I just wanted to know if this crazy train had any stops coming up." He rinses out the can and puts it upside down in the dish drainer. "I'm going to bed now. Goodnight."

"Good night, bro."