Tenebrosity

Chapter Four: “Birth Day”

 

It is not a bad thing that children should occasionally, and politely, put parents in their place ~ Colette

*****
 

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

“You ready to go, Gus?”

I turn toward Dad who is standing in the doorway to my room and then glance at the clock. “It’s only ten.”

He nods and bites his lip, his expression and posture reluctant and awkward.

I close my laptop and take a deep breath before I ask, “Is Justin coming?”

“N…no,” he stutters, “he…he can’t, Gus.”

I guess I didn’t make any progress at all with him last night. “That’s okay,” I assure him, because his eyes start to get glassy and I think he’s about to cry again. I know Dad has always suppressed his emotions; so they’ve obviously been building up within him, but seeing him cry so many times in the last twenty-four hours makes me feel horrible.

“Just because he let us hug him doesn’t mean that anything’s different.”

Let us? Yeah, Justin was reluctant, but I thought that was more about him not wanting me to see him crying. I grab my jacket, pull it on and brush past Dad into the hallway. “Where is he now?” I ask.

“He’s sleeping,” Dad answers, but I don’t believe that.

Last night, Justin went to sleep as soon as Dad and I were able to get ourselves to stop crying. He turned away from us and got the blanket over him so quickly I hadn’t had time to ask if he was okay before I realized he was asleep. There’s no way he’s been sleeping this whole time.

During our embrace, I noticed something else that makes me even more worried about him. The handful of times that I’ve seen Justin since the funeral I’ve noticed how unhealthy he appears. I could tell that he’d dropped a lot of weight and lost a lot of muscle mass but it’s far worse than just minor weight loss. Justin is anorexic. He hides it well with all the big clothes he wears and when I think about the times I’ve seen him during warm weather, he’s still dressed in long sleeves. I suppose myself and obviously everyone else, figured he just didn’t care about his appearance, which is normal after what happened. My dad’s appearance has changed too. But Justin’s change is dangerous!

When I hugged him last night, which was the first time I’ve been able to do so in years, I could feel every single bone in his body. Dad must notice it, how could he not? Either way, Justin is in more trouble than I thought. His sickly, frail frame is a complete transformation from what he looked like three years ago. Even his face is thinner, though his beard hides a lot of the gauntness, in the light, I can see the change.

Last night we ordered pizza and neither Dad nor me had much of an appetite so there were still a few pieces left in the box. I started wrapping them up and Dad asked why I was doing it, because neither one of us liked leftover pizza. I told him that it was for Justin, he always loved leftovers of any kind. Dad, casually might I add, told me that Justin wouldn’t eat the pizza. He said that Justin only eats Peanut Butter and Jelly or Cheerios, unless he's at a family dinner. He added that even then, Justin only picks at his food. I wanted to ask more about that but Dad already seemed so fragile talking about Justin that I didn't want to cause him any more pain.

After feeling for myself how tiny Justin has become, I’ve decided to start doing some research. I hit up all the websites about severe depression and eating disorders. I have read some terrifying things regarding both diseases and I know he's not going to get better unless there is a drastic change. I need to bring it up with Dad, but I think he’s so close to giving up on Justin (which I sort of understand), that he doesn't want to see how bad Justin really is because he's the one that's been dealing with it alone, for all this time.

I don't know how I’m going to do it, but I am determined to help them. I have to. I know it isn't something any kid my age should do, but no one else in their lives has tried to help them. I think they're all too scared to say or do anything or maybe they just don’t realize that my dads are falling apart because of how different they act with our family around. If you ask me, the whole family has given them too much time on their own, they've taken everything at face value and they've deluded themselves into thinking that Brian and Justin are going to 'poof' one day get over Arella's death and be who they were before, all without any intervention. I just don’t get that because our family are the nosiest people in the world and constantly get in your business. As independent and resilient as my dads both are, I can see why our family would step back because the situation was unlike anything they’d ever dealt with before but they’ve had enough time alone. Now that I know that nothing is as they've wanted everyone to believe it is, I'm going to do everything I can to help because I think I’m the only one who can.

As I grab my shoes out of the downstairs closet, I see something I neglected to notice yesterday when I put them away. The crate at the bottom where Justin keeps all his shoes is in the back, covered in dust. The times he leaves the house must be few and far between if dust has accumulated on it.

“You ready?” Dad asks, startling me out of my thoughts.

I grab my Vans, close the door and debate upon asking him how often it is that Justin leaves the house. “Yeah, but, Dad, I…”

“You can drive,” he says, giving me a genuine smile and dangling his car keys in front of my face.

He really does look happy and I resign myself to stop thinking about all the bad stuff, at least for now. It’s my birthday, and my parents have let me take the day off from school. Dad is taking me to the Lakeview Resort and Spa! We used to go there all the time to golf, use their rock-climbing wall, the spa’s services or dine at one of the restaurants. Today we’re getting facials, massages and eating at Fusion. I thought it was silly the first time my Dad and Justin took me to the spa when I was nine, but I quickly learned how great it is. We haven’t been there in years and now, Dad is letting me drive!

This is progress; even if it’s Dad progressing alone, it's better than not at all.

I push my feet into my shoes and grab the keys from him. “Awesome, thank you!”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he teases. “I’ve got a list of rules to go over with you first.”

 

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“You are a good driver,” Dad tells me, but he doesn’t sound very sure of his assessment.

I pull into the parking lot and feel my bundled up nerves getting the best of me when I find our space and pull into it. I practically inch in between the two cars beside us because I really suck at parking. It’s the one thing I wish I never had to do. The resort actually has optional valet service but Dad insisted on seeing me park.

I sigh in relief as I finally stop the car, pull it in park and turn off the engine. I so shouldn’t have made a big deal about driving with Dad. For the last forty-five minutes I’ve felt like I was going to go crazy. The resort is located about fifteen minutes from Britin, but the easiest route to take to get there is exit 7 to I-68 East and I knew from the moment I started the BMW that I wouldn’t be going that way. Instead, I had to go about twenty minutes out of the way to get around to Cheat Road, the only alternate route to the resort.

The entire drive Dad had his hands holding onto the sides of the leather seat. I know he wasn’t doing it to be obnoxious, as he may have done if… well, I couldn’t say anything to him about it, but it drove me nuts and I am glad we’re getting massages because my muscles feel extremely taut and I think I’m getting a headache. He’s definitely going to drive home.

“You’re sure you want to do the massage before eating?” Dad asks as we get out of the car.

“Why?” I ask, handing him the keys after locking the car.

Dad clicks the lock on the car one more time, which is ridiculous because it beeped twice for me too. “You seem really stiff. Do you need a new mattress?”

I don’t want him to feel bad about the drive and I know he will if I tell him it was the drive that made me sore. “I just haven’t slept in it in a while,” I lie. “I’m sure it’s fine, but yeah if you think we could move our appointment that would be awesome. I don’t want to cause any trouble though.”

Dad smiles slyly at me and bumps his shoulder against mine. “Have I taught you nothing, young Padawan? Of course we can change the appointment and of course we are going to be trouble.”

It’s been a long, long, long time since I’ve seen Dad act like this, no that’s wrong. It’s been years since I’ve seen him be himself. This is the best birthday present I could have ever gotten!

 

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Wednesday, May 22, 2008

“Gus, you man the camera. I have to help Justin with Arella.”

“Cool!” Gus grabs the camera from Brian and walks backward.

“Is there enough time left on that thing?” I ask, gathering the two designer diaper bags and draping them over my shoulder.

“I dunno,” Gus answers from behind the camera. “Dad taped the whole ride home so…”

“There are twenty gigs on that damn thing.” Brian pops his head out from behind the passenger back door and continues to protest, “Stop acting like assholes. You two have had that camera on since Izzy went into labor. I had to get her first car ride on film.”

“She slept the whole time,” Gus reminds Brian. “What’s there to get?”

Brian looks at me and says pointedly, “You’ll thank me later.”

I laugh, because I know he's right. I'm so excited I can barely contain myself. I walk up behind Brian and peek into the vehicle. Arella looks so sweet and content bundled up in her sleeper. “Do you need help?”

“I got it, I’m just making sure she’s still asleep,” Brian answers, pushing me away a little so he can go back to figuring out how to unlock the carrier from the seatbelt.

“I can’t believe they let us take her home when she’s only two days old,” I say, totally in awe, staring at MY sleeping daughter as my husband finally figures out the latch system and gets the car seat out of the car.

“Do you want to take her back to the hospital?” Brian asks me, closing the car door and walking toward Gus.

“Of course not,” I say. There's no way I can imagine being separated from her for a minute. I did most of the baby care while we were at the hospital because I didn't want nurses to be her primary caregivers. I'd waited nine-months to be her Daddy and I didn't want to miss a moment of Arella’s firsts.

“She's perfect,” Brian praises, walking up to the door.

Arella’s tiny, barely-there-cry is her answer to Brian saying she's perfect.

“Perfect,” I tell him, walking beside Brian and looking down at my baby girl who is now awake and by the looks of it, not happy.

“Okay, Gus, get us coming in and then shut it off,” Brian tells him, trying to use a gentle voice.

We walk over the threshold and I smile as Gus aims the camera at me, his father and then down at Arella.

“Welcome home, baby sister,” Gus says.

I almost lose it and start crying right there. But I don't, because my brain can't focus on any one emotion long enough for me to produce tears. I guess I feel overwhelming shock above all else. I can't believe this is happening. Brian just carried my daughter, OUR daughter, into our house and now... now her life really begins.

 

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Tuesday, September 20, 2016

I tried to let Gus drive us home, but he said he was too tired. It’s only a little after seven and I know the massage wasn’t that good. I didn’t call him on it, but I’m sure the real reason he wanted me to drive on the way back was because I won the award for ‘worst backseat driver’ when he drove us to the club.

“Why are all the lights off?” Gus asks me in a worried voice as I pull the car up the driveway.

I shrug my shoulders, put the car in park and shut off the engine. The outside lights aren’t ever on anymore. The wiring for them goes through an old breaker timer that is reset every day. I wanted to get new ones, but when Justin first saw the house, he insisted that we keep them. There are a couple dozen stained glass lanterns placed around the property and lampposts that have the same antique glass in them dot the driveway. It used to be Justin’s responsibility to turn them on, hell it used to be some weird ass pleasure for him to reset the stupid switch each day.

Justin was so obsessed with the lawn ornaments; he researched the artist that made the pieces. He then dragged me to a tiny obscure gallery in downtown Philadelphia to see more of her work. We now have three of Jaeline Trip’s blown glass pieces in our den. I can’t remember the last time he looked at them.

“Daaaad?” Gus draws out my name in an annoyed tone.

“What?” I ask in answer to his whining.

“Shut off the engine and let’s go inside; you’re freaking me out.” He pushes open his door and stars to climb out.

“Wait a fucking second, Gus.”

“I don’t want to hear a lecture right now, Dad.”

The look he gives me is one I’ve never seen him give me before. “I’m not going to lecture you. I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” he says in surprise and smiles slightly at me. “Are you serious?”

I shut off the engine and nod my head. He’s my son and I don’t want him to think that the way things are with Justin and my helpless attitude about it is okay. “I know you wish that Justin could’ve celebrated your birthday with us today and I’m sorry that I didn’t try harder to get…”

“It’s not you that isn’t trying,” Gus interrupts me and steps out of the car.

I follow him and grab his arm before he opens the front door. “Justin doesn’t know how to try,” I admit quietly.

He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it while looking me directly in the eyes. “That’s because he isn’t Justin anymore.”

I can’t respond to that, because that truth fills my mouth with dry cement. I watch my sixteen year-old son, who is scores more mature than I am, walk into the house while I stand unmoving; overwhelmed with guilt and shame. This shouldn’t be how Gus ends his sixteenth birthday. It isn’t fair to him. He doesn’t deserve this.

I follow him and hear Justin and him talking in the living room as I close the door.

“It was fun,” Gus says, “relaxing.”

Justin must have actually initiated the conversation, which I’d think would be a good sign, but I’m pretty sure that it’s only because he wants to act normal around Gus after breaking down last night.

“I… I wish I could’ve gone wi…”

“No you don’t,” Gus interrupts hastily.

I was about to walk into the room, but instead I stand still and let Gus talk without my interference.

“What?” Justin whispers and I hear him moving his wheelchair, probably turning away from Gus.

“You didn’t want to be with us, so you didn’t wish you could’ve gone,” Gus replies.

“You hate me now.”

Gus lets out a surprised laugh. “You’re crazy.”

Holy shit!

 

♂♂♂♂♂♂

For a second I’m not sure I heard Gus right but by the time I realize I did, he’s walking around the chair and standing above me with his arms crossed.

“You’re crazy if you’d think I’d ever hate you, Daddy.”

My chest tightens and I want nothing more than to feel what I used to when he’d call me that, but I can’t get past the numbness that violates me and drowns out all sizzling possible emotions. “I love you too, Gus,” I swear to him, wishing I could feel it.

He goes on, ignoring my false sounding words, looking over my head he declares, “I’m moving out here with you and Justin.”

I turn to see that Brian is standing behind me. “What?” Then I look back at Gus and try to gauge his seriousness. Surely Brian wouldn’t have told him it’s okay!

“You’re not moving out here!” Brian shouts.

I feel momentarily relieved to know that Brian hasn’t agreed to Gus’ idea.

Gus spins around to face Brian and says in a final tone, “I am.”

Brian glances at me but I look away from his needy expression, it's too much to bear. I couldn’t ever talk Gus out of anything and no matter what my opinion is, this will have to be Brian’s decision. I’m cruel to leave it up to Brian, but Gus doesn’t need to think I don’t want him here more than he already does.

“You can’t just decide to move in here, Gus,” Brian says through clenched teeth. “You live with your mother.”

“She doesn’t even notice if I’m home,” Gus replies indignantly. “I was supposed to live here before, so what’s the big deal now?”

“We’d notice if you were here,” Brian explains gently. “We like our peace and..”

“If Arella were alive, this house wouldn’t know a moment of quiet!” Gus barks, glaring first at me and then at Brian.

“Shut up, Gus!”

He turns toward me and gives me a painful and shocked expression. I didn’t expect to yell at him like that. I don’t know how it came out of my mouth. Fuck!

“Apologize!” Brian demands, angrily turning away from me. “You don’t talk to my son like that.”

He said, my son. Son of a bitch, I am the world’s shittiest parent! “I… I’m so…”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Gus interrupts and gives me a small smile. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Damn right you shouldn’t have said that,” Brian barks, grabbing Gus’s arm so that he faces him. “But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong.”

I feel so ashamed at my behavior and more ashamed that I’m dreading what I know is going to happen now. Gus is right, which means that Brian is going to allow him to move in. I know that Lindsay was going to allow Gus to move in with us as soon as they came back to the States but I guess Brian stopped it then or something. I never asked why it was that Brian changed his mind.

Now he’s changing it and Lindsay will agree to it. I love Gus, but having him in the house is going to change things and I am able to function with the way things are now. I don’t know if I’ll be able to if he’s here, lighting up the house and looking over my shoulder, trying to be my best friend the way he used to be with me.

“So I can move out here?” Gus asks excitedly, bouncing on his toes, the tension in the room lessening.

“We’ll have to talk over the details with your mom, but yeah, it’s okay with me,” Brian replies and takes Gus into his arms.

Gus hugs Brian so tight it makes him close his eyes and hang onto the embrace for a few minutes, and I just watch them, wishing I could feel whatever it was I used to feel when I'd see them be affectionate with one another. I know it was something huge, but I can't grasp it.

“Now, this is the best birthday present!” Gus announces, pulling away from Brian. “It’s even better than getting a car.”

“Don’t get your hopes up too quick, Sonnyboy,” Brian replies. “This move may not be all you think it will be.”

Gus looks over at me and gives me the sweetest smile I’ve seen in a long time. “It will be,” he affirms.

I try to keep my face from showing the bitter taste that coats my mouth and nod at him before quickly looking away. There’s too much hope in his expression and I can’t allow myself to give him one of my false smiles.

 

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Monday, October 16, 2006

I pull my car beside Jennifer’s in front of a large two-story building that looks way too modern to be in this neighborhood, but I’ve never been afraid of standing out. I look outside the passenger window and see her peering at me from her car with an expression that reminds me of the same look Justin gets when he’s anxious. I take a quick look around outside the car, shut off the engine and give her a nod of approval.

“So this is more to your taste?” she asks when we’re both out of our cars.

“Perhaps,” I answer, still taking in the landscape.

Jennifer points to the parking garage across the street and tells me, “There should be a sufficient amount of spaces for your staff to park over there.”

I don’t like the idea of having to park in a parking garage and I know that Justin isn’t going to like it either. The spaces that Jen’s and my car are in right now and the two beside it I would prefer to leave open for clients. “Do you think it’ll be trouble finding a space in the street parking?” I ask.

“There are six more spaces around the east side of the building,” she answers quickly, probably having the same apprehension as I do. “But to answer your question, I’d say from the looks of it, it might be an issue.”

Cars line nearly every space on the street in front of every single house and shop. It seems this building is the only one that actually has a driveway. “Besides that parking garage and the couple of restaurants, this looks like a residential area,” I observe. Not that I mind that, but I don’t want to have to deal with getting permits for the place. It might take up to six months to get Kinnetik moved wherever it ends up going and I don’t need the city holding up the schedule.

“It is, for the most part.” Jennifer admits. “However, it’s already zoned for business, and Kinnetik is only three blocks from here so it would be an easier move. Once you get inside you’ll understand why I wanted to show it to you.”

“I’ll have to have this gravel paved over,” I comment as we step onto the steps leading to the front path.

“Definitely,” she agrees. “The first time I saw this place I was wearing high heels and I nearly fell trying to get up here.”

I look down and laugh when I see she’s wearing tennis shoes. “Don’t want my employees collecting workman’s comp before they even get inside on the first day.”

The two large wooden front doors are massive but Jennifer puts the key in the lock, turns the handle and pushes them both open easily. I’m only two steps in and I already feel a smile tugging at my lips. The space is amazing.

“You like it?” she asks, but I can see from her smile that she knows that I do.

I close the doors behind us and walk a few more feet in. Already I can see where the reception area would be to the right and the waiting area near a huge fireplace at the end of the large room. Right now it’s set up as a home. The furnishings and design are nothing I’d choose, but take that all away and it has great potential. Before I get ahead of myself I ask, “How much are they asking for it?”

She winces and holds her portfolio close to her chest as she answers, “Your exact top dollar.”

I laugh aloud at that. When I set the price range I definitely didn’t want to spend it, not for a space with no parking lot. That’s one of the issues we have with Kinnetik’s current location. “Are they flexible?”

“They’ve been on the market for two months, so I would say yes, except that the man who is selling is only selling because he’s building his family a bigger house.”

“I’ll need to see the rest of the space,” I say, not sold on paying full price yet.

“Of course, Brian.” I’m amused to see her smirk at me. “Come on, the stairs are really cool.”

Did Jennifer just refer to stairs as being cool? I look around and don’t see any staircase but follow her to where we almost reach the furthest end of the house. Behind the fireplace there’s another small hallway and two spiral staircases. Of course a woman would love these.

“Justin would love these staircases,” she says, beginning to climb up them.

I hold in my laughter and grab my phone out of my pocket. “Justin needs to be here,” I say, reaching the top. “I’m going to have him meet us here.”

“Brian, are you sure that him working for you is a good idea?” she wonders in a gentle tone. “I love that you want to provide a career for him, but I…”

“I’m not providing Justin with a career. His skills and intelligence do that,” I remind her. “Justin is only going to work part-time for Kinnetik. If the time comes when he can’t work for whatever reason, I’ll find someone else. His art is top priority. You should know that I’d do anything to help Justin be the man he should be. I’d never stand in the way of that.”

She nods and smiles at me, her cheeks pink in embarrassment. “I know, Brian.”

I dial Justin’s cell number and wait for him to pick up. He’d better have the fucking thing on or I’m going to…

“Hey, Brian!”

“Someone sounds happy,” I say in greeting.

“I finished my second to last piece and the final one is half-done. And… I just dropped off the new sketches of Rage with Michael and I’m drinking a chocolate shake.”

He sounds like he’s already sucked down a couple of chocolate shakes, he’s so hyper. “Are you still in town?”

“Yeah, just pulling out of McDonald’s now,” he answers. “I got a burger and fries too, do you want me to go back and get you one? I can bring it to the office.”

I refrain from shuddering and resign myself to the fact that even if he’s been eating healthy and working out, he’s always going to love greasy fast food. “No, I don’t. I gain weight just from kissing you after you eat that shit.”

“Kissing makes you lose calories, Brian,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Whatever. Listen, your mom is showing me some possible office space and I want you to come see it.”

“You do?” he asks surprised and starts to cough.

“Yeah, Michelangelo, I do, if you think you can make it here without choking on your straw.”

“Will you give me something else to choke on?”

I hear Jennifer gasp and she turns away and starts walking down the hall. Justin talks way too loud on the phone. He seems to think that even if he can hear the other person, that no matter what, we can’t hear him. “Your mother is here and she just heard you. Pull into a stall and I’ll give you the address to put in the GPS.”

“Is it in Pittsburgh?” he asks. “And why in the fuck do you have me on speakerphone?”

“I don’t have you on speakerphone, and yes, it’s in Pittsburgh.”

“Then how did she hear me and why can’t you just give me the address? I’ll find it!” he yells.

“She heard you because you yell whenever you talk on a fucking cell phone and no, you won’t find it. You got lost driving to your mother’s house from Britin.”

“I didn’t get lost, there was road construction and I had to use an alternate route to get off the fucking highway. Then, there was more construction and…”

“Justin!” I practically shout over his ramblings. “Just pull over and put the address in the fucking GPS, would you? I’ve got to get back to work.”

“I’m already pulled over. I didn’t want to eat, talk and drive at the same time. You still haven’t let me live down the time I spit your cum out on the floorboard of the Vette.”

I chuckle, remembering how funny that had been but taunt him anyway, “I still can’t believe you didn’t swallow.”

“I was sick and I had a fucking sinus infection. I couldn’t breathe,” he defends himself. “You were lucky that I was able to suck you to orgasm, fucker!”

“Yes, I was,” I reply, recalling how terrible it had been going nine days after that without one of his blowjobs and having to see his lips every day and not have them wrapped around my cock.

“What’s the address?” he asks, cutting into my thoughts.

“Are you putting it into the GPS?”

“Yeeees, Brian,” he says slowly.

“It’s 511 Broadway. It’s a big two story brick building on the corner of Broadway and Liberty. It looks like a fucking house, but the driveway is up one of the alleys behind the structure and wraps around to the front. You’ll have to go in on Fleet to get to it.”

“Brian, just so you know, I know where that is.”

“You do?” I question, surprised.

“Yeah. Like hello, that’s the same fucking street Michael and Ben live on.”

“I know. I just didn’t know if you knew that.”

“And it’s only a couple blocks from where Kinnetik is now.”

“Right, just get here soon.”

“I’m on my way, now. It’ll be like nine minutes.”

“What’d you do? Divide the mileage to minutes, nerd?”

“No, dork. I looked at the fucking GPS map.”

I close the phone on his laughter, straighten my posture and head off to find Jennifer.

 

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After Justin got to the building, we had a look around the upstairs, which is not furnished like a home. There were two large bedrooms, one master and one smaller master they used for their kids. They bedrooms are above where the kitchen and some sort of media room are downstairs. Every other room is devoted to large open spaces that look like they’re already set up to be boardrooms or offices. Around the corner on the other side of the stairwell are two large rooms that were completely bare. Justin and I both decided they’d work well as both the advertising department and art department spaces.

We’re going to need to do some renovating, but the place could be perfect for Kinnetik. Justin is already picking out furniture for his office. He’s insisted that he gets the kid room beside the master, which I said would be my office. I just hope we can get some work accomplished being so close together.

Jennifer draws up the offer, $140,000 less than what they’re asking, but I’m not paying top dollar when I’m going to have to compensate my employees by paying their parking fee each month. They’ll take it, or I’ll find something else.

Justin’s name is beside mine on the paperwork and seeing it on paper like that, gets me thinking about the question that Debbie and Michael ask me nearly every time I see them: When am I going to marry Justin?

Justin grabs my hand, taking me out of my thoughts and starts chatting about how cool the staircases are as we walk down them. I see Jennifer give me a wink from where she stands on the first floor and I laugh at how well we both know her son. He keeps talking all the way out of the building until we reach our cars and the only thing that makes him stop is my tongue in his mouth.

Jennifer doesn’t bother parting with a real goodbye and only yells that she’ll be in touch as she gets into her car.

I continue to kiss Justin, running my hands everywhere I can reach under his too thick winter coat, smelling and tasting the disgusting McDonald's food until all I can taste and smell is Justin. Just the way I like it.
 

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