Thanksgiving Dinner

(also knows as "Meeting the In-laws")

Jennifer was in the kitchen of her new condo; her arms up to the elbows in the body cavity of a twenty-six pound turkey and her mind elsewhere—quite an accomplishment, when you thought about it.

She had agreed to help Brian with his idea to surprise Justin with a trip for Christmas, had agreed that she would go along with the semi-deception that the older man was staying in Pittsburgh while the three Taylor's (Craig wouldn't be going after the shitty way he had acted during the divorce, for God's sake) took their traditional trip to visit her parents on Long Island.

They would be having the usual family dinner with the relatives with Justin probably being in a sulk because Brian had refused to join them. The plan called for Brian to show up in time for dessert on Christmas Eve, stay through presents the next morning then surprise Justin with a ski trip to Vermont where the two of them would spend the rest of the vacation.

And, oh yes, Brian planned on asking Justin to marry him while they were up in Vermont. He would arrange for the minister and the rings and everything else that would go along with it—the license and the blood tests, all of it.

One of the conditions of the whole thing was that he would get to know the family a bit—and let them get to know him—ahead of time. Thanksgiving was the only chance that most of them would all be together before Christmas and so she had agreed, reluctantly, to have him join them today.

She suspected—alright, she knew damn well—that he wasn't looking forward to it anymore than she was, but if he was going to ask Justin to marry him then she insisted that the family at least meet him first. Their family was a close one and the various members were important to Justin.

Brian would just have to understand that.

If he didn't understand it, well then, he could at least be polite and accommodate them in something this important.

Some of the family didn't even realize that Justin was gay, let alone that he had a lover of several years standing who was practically twice his age.

Dear God. At least don't let the turkey be dry.

She managed to slide the huge bird into the lower oven. Twenty-six pounds at twenty minutes a pound at three hundred and twenty-five degrees degrees, that would be six and a half hours before the thing would be done. They would eat around five and people would begin arriving about three or so.

Her mother and her sister would be bringing the salads and the breads and the desserts and Brian and Justin would have the wine and the appetizers.

Wiping her hands off, she pulled out the bag of potatoes just as Molly wandered in.

"Need any help?"

"Sure, sweetie. You can start on the potatoes and I'll get the peas ready."

Molly got the good peeler out of the drawer, along with a couple of paper towels. Jen handed over the large pot of water. They worked in silence for a few minutes.

"Are you upset that Brian is going to ask Justin to get married?"

"Oh, Molly, I don't know."

"Mom, sure you do. How come you don't like Brian? He's nice—well, OK, maybe he's not really `nice', but he and Justin love each other."

Jen concentrated on shelling peas.

"Mom? Does it bother you that they're gay? I mean, they love each other and all, but is it creepy?" Molly plopped a peeled potato into the pot of water. "One time I got home from school and they were upstairs and I heard them. It was pretty skank."

Jen stared at the girl. "They were here—and you heard them? Were they…? When did this happen?"

"Well, yeah, you weren't home, I don't know, last spring sometime. They sounded like you and Dad. Well, pretty much, anyway. Except it was two guys."

Jen just stared at her daughter, blushing. Dear God. "…Then what happened?"

"When they were done they came downstairs—they were all dressed and everything— and Justin apologized. He said that if they'd known I was there they wouldn't have done anything. Then Brian helped me with my math homework. Did you know that he's really good at math? He's really smart. Justin told me that he got all kinds of scholarships."

That was news; she knew he was intelligent, of course, but still. "He did?"

"Um-hmm. That day Justin took me to see Nemo he told me that Brian's parents are real shits…"

"Molly!"

"Sorry, but that's what he said and that his father used to beat him up all the time and that Debbie used to have to take care of him and sometimes she had to take him to the emergency room."

"Brian told Justin all this?"

"Brian never talks about it to anyone. Justin said that Vic told him when he was living there."

Jen started working on the peas again. She realized that she had been staring. "When did all this with his parents happen?"

"At first Justin thought that it was when Brian was like about my age but then Vic told him that it had been going on pretty much all Brian's life. Anyway, that's why he got scholarships, so he could get away from his family. He applied for them himself and sent in all the paperwork—I think he even forged his father's signature so he wouldn't have to show them. Justin told me that Brian has paid for himself since he was like seventeen and he never took anything from them after that. He hardly ever saw them after he finished high school."

"…Are you sure about Brian being abused?" She had heard some rumors about that happening but had never really asked. Debbie would tell her. It could explain some things.

"That's what Justin said and he seemed pretty upset about it. Of course, he's a drama queen."

Jen smiled. Well, yes. He was. "If Brian asks him to get married, what do you think he'll say?"

Molly gave her a look that would have done Brian proud. "Mom—he'll say yes. Duh."

"You really think so?"

"He'd be pretty stupid if he didn't." Molly peeled another couple of potatoes before she continued. "You think they'll end up breaking up or divorced or something, don't you?"

Jen considered. Molly may only be twelve, but she was smart and even more intuitive than Justin was. And she still had that crush on Brian. "…I think that they have some problems they should work out first."

"They know that."

Jen stared at her. "Have they been talking to you about this?"

"Well, not really. Sort of. Justin was saying that he thought that he and Brian would be together forever if they could get through the next six months or year or so but he didn't know if they would be able to do that."

"Sweetie, when were you two talking about this?"

"Last week when he gave me a ride home from school. He said that he had been thinking about him and Brian and that he really loves him, but he wasn't sure that they would be able to live together without killing each other."

Molly had finished the potatoes and went to get the good napkins out of the drawer.

"Did he say what the problems are?"

"Not really. He said that Brian is just always working all the time and he won't stop and Justin said that sometimes he feels like a little kid around him because he's going to class and doing homework and Brian is going to work and meeting clients and stuff." Molly started folding the good linen napkins so that they would looks like swans—Vic had showed her how to do that last summer at a cookout they'd all gone to. "I think sometimes Justin feels like Brian is like his father—I don't mean that he's like Dad or anything. He thinks Brian treats him like a kid, telling him what to do."

Yes, he probably did.

"Besides, Brian always wears a suit to work and Justin usually has on those stupid cargoes and some dumb shirt." She had two swans done. "You'd think that hanging around Brian, his sense of fashion would improve."

Well, yes, you would think so.

"Do you think Brian knows how Justin feels?" Like Justin would ever keep his feelings bottled up. Of course Brian had to know.

Molly was refolding one of the napkins since she thought it looked more like a duck than a swan. "I don't know. He said that Brian doesn't like talking about that sort of thing."

No, he probably didn't. "What about you, sweetie? Does it bother you that your brother is gay or that he's with Brian?"

"I like Brian." Period. That summed it up.

She smiled, slightly strained to do it. "How about you setting the table for me. Alright?"

Molly nodded, going to the dining room to get the chest with the good silver.

About two that afternoon, Brian and Justin arrived with the wine and a couple of pies Vic had made them as a gift—the expected pumpkin and apple and then a key lime to impress the peasants. His note insisted that it had been no problem since he was making two dozen anyway for the Hospice. They looked fabulous.

The wine was a white, one of Brian's favorites and even Jen had to agree that, after they had opened one bottle so that she could taste the stuff, it was pretty good.

"Mom? Who all is coming today?"

"Your grandparents—I mean my parents. My sister and her family. Us. That should be enough. Oh, and your cousin Sally is bringing her fiancée, Neil."

"Sally's getting married?"

"Behave."

Brian looked a question. "She's what my father calls one of the walking wounded."

"Justin!"

"Oh, come on, it's not like every family doesn't have one."

Brian was smirking. "Mine has a corner on the market."

"Dad's not coming?" Both of the kids looked at her. That hadn't occurred to either of them. He had never missed Thanksgiving before. Well, they would have to get used to it.

She took a beat. "He said that he has other plans." Like going out with his bambi girlfriend. "Brian? Are your parents doing anything?"

He almost snarked back, but restrained himself. "My mother and sister will probably have dinner together with Claire's ex. They do it for the kids. My father died about two years ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"I'm sure he isn't. I'll get the fire started, if you'd like." Jen nodded her thanks as Brian walked out of the kitchen. Well, weren't they off to a good start?

An hour later with the table set, the fire burning well and the house smelling like turkey, the rest of the family arrived. They had been told ahead of time that Justin would have a friend with him and that Craig wouldn't be there. They had been—mostly—forewarned.

Jenn's sister looked like a carbon copy of her sister, her husband a darker, maybe Italian version of Craig. They were both benign. Sis took coats upstairs to put them on a bed then decanted to the kitchen to help her sister. Her husband, after some pleasantries, headed for the TV to see whatever game was on.

The grandparents seemed, at first sight, like something conjured up by Norman Rockwell, gray –haired and kindly, loving and warm. Of course that was just a first impression. In fact both of them were sharp as tacks, modern in their thinking and liberals in every sense of the word.

Bill and Claudia were what Brian would have wished for if he could have chosen his own family. Though he didn't say anything—they'd just met, for God's sake—he liked them on sight.

Jenn's father had worked for years as a lawyer defending First Amendment cases against infringement and her mother had headed the local offices of Planned Parenthood for decades. Both of them still remained involved in their work, though on a reduced basis. It was obvious that they adored their grandchildren and that the feelings were mutual.

The cousins were—well, they were cousins from the shallow end of the gene pool. They were somewhat sub par in looks, intelligence and social ability. And that was just to start. They also happened to be Fundamentalist Christians.

Christ.

Walking wounded, indeed.

Brian was tempted to tell them he had been a Catholic alter boy, but decided, at the last possible second, to behave himself.

The engaged cousin seemed happy—showing off the man she never though she would have. He was tall and heavy, arrogant without cause and Brian managed to restrain himself only because of Justin's hand on his arm and a firm belief that it would be shooting fish in a barrel, and he got enough of that with Ted. He finally just decided to think of the man as the entertainment and as soon as he made that decision, things got easier for everyone there.

They all moved to the living room, Jen and Molly putting out the cheese, crackers and other warm-ups to the main event before going back to the kitchen to work on the meal some more.

"So, Justin, have you and Brian been friends long?"

"A couple of years now."

Cousin Sal nodded. "How did you meet? Is he one of your teachers or something?" She was practically in Neil's—that was her beau—lap, hanging on his arm.

"Sort of." Justin hid his smirk. "I met him a couple of years ago when I was in high school."

"What do you teach, Brian?"

Too easy. "I'm not a teacher. I work in advertising."

"Oh, but I thought Justin said…"

"We met when he was a high school student, not in the school itself."

Sally nodded. Oh, that explained it. Sort of. An embarrassed silence descended. Justin's grandfather broke it.

"Um…what do you do in advertising?"

"I'm a partner at Vanguard here in Pittsburgh."

Justin's grandmother looked up. "I know that firm, they handle the ads for Planned Parenthood here—and they do it for free. Did you have anything to do with that, by any chance?"

Justin broke in, proud of Brian but knowing that he would be embarrassed and not say anything. "That was Brian's idea. He said that as long as they were giving AIDS counseling and teaching safe sex to anyone who walked in, he'd donate his time and then he sort of pressured his partner into donating the rest of it."

"Good for you." She glanced at Justin. "I thought he looked smart."

"The only safe sex is abstinence." That was Neil. Brian just rolled his lips in, saying nothing but obviously trying not to laugh.

"AIDS a big concern for you and your friends, Brian?" That was Bill. Obviously he had figured out what was going on, either that or Jen had told him.

"It's a concern with anyone with a brain."

Bill nodded. "So you two have been friends for a couple of years now?"

Brian nodded, almost a challenge.

"Grandpa, Brian and I live together, we have been for a couple of years now."

"I thought so. Working out for you both, is it?"

Neil and Sally exchanged a look. "You mean like you share the rent?"

Molly was putting more crackers on the cheese platter. "God, Sal, get serious. They live together. You know. Live Together. Like a couple."

Neil was shocked, Sally managed to splutter, "...Does Aunt Jennifer know?"

"Well, yeah, she's not stupid. She even walked in on them a couple of times. I did, too, once."

"God, Molly, shut the fuck up, please."

"Bite me, Justin."

"Excuse us." Neil and Sally got up and headed into the kitchen, likely to see if Jenn really did understand what they were talking about. They returned less than three minutes later, upset and making hasty apologies. There was another commitment they had forgotten, they were so sorry, didn't mean to be rude, they knew everyone would understand. In moments they were gone.

"I'm sorry about that, Justin, Brian. Sal means well in her way, but she never was the brightest bulb on the tree and now that she's hooked up with that jerk I'm afraid that she seems to have gotten worse. You just don't pay any attention to them."

Brian just gave a small shrug. He didn't give a rat's ass what they thought of him; he'd had them pegged from the first couple of sentences. The grandparents, on the other hand, he did care about. He liked them and—he admitted to himself if to no one else—he wanted them to like, or at least accept him. "I don't expect that I'll be seeing them all that much. It shouldn't be a problem."

Justin smiled, taking his hand. "You know, if they knew that you were raised Catholic they'd really be upset."

"Ah, the capital `C' Christians."

"You got it."

Jenn called from the kitchen, asking Justin to come in and help her, Claudia also got up to see if there was anything she could do and Brian and Bill were left alone. Brian offered to freshen his drink. Handing the older man another beer, he sat down—slightly awkwardly—and tried to look at ease. Maybe it was a residual from his childhood, but a father figure could still make him tongue-tied and nervous.

"Jennifer told me that you helped Justin after that accident at the prom. I know that she's grateful for that. So are we. You made a big difference for Justin."

Brian was taken aback. The fucking bashing was his fault. If he hadn't gone to the dance, if he hadn't been there, nothing would have happened. The fucker was setting him up.

Shit.

He gave the old man one of his glares. He was stopped in his tracks.

"Oh, don't bother. I wasn't being sarcastic. I meant what I said. I can't say I'm thrilled that my grandson is gay—oh, stop before you even get started. I'm not a homophobe. I just know that it will make his life more difficult, especially with his father being the jackass he is. He's family and I love him. I'd rather that his life be easier than it will likely be."

"Other than that, you have no problem with it?" Brian was purposely baiting him, trying to get a read on the man and how he really felt. "What has Jenn told you?"

"Jennifer told me that Justin realized that he's gay when he was seventeen—or at least that's when he admitted it to her and Craig. She's said that Justin believes that he's in love with you and that she thinks that it's mutual, although I'm not sure she's thrilled with that."

He half smiled. "No, I don't think that she is."

"I gather that you and Craig didn't exactly hit it off."

"He tried to kill me twice."

"Obviously he didn't succeed. You press charges?"

"No."

"That was stupid."

"I don't think he'll try again and when it happened Justin was still hoping for a relationship with his father while he was living with me. It was a simple enough choice."

Bill nodded. "Alright, so you're concerned about him. That's a point in your favor."

"Are you keeping score?"

"I'm concerned about the boy. And, yes, I did some checking up on you. Don't look so annoyed, you can't be surprised. I know where you went to school and that you were an honor student from about kindergarten through grad school. I know where you live, where you work. I have a fair idea of your net worth and your annual income. I know that you're respected professionally and that you avoided a couple of lawsuits concerning sexual harassment and pedophilia by the skin of your teeth and that all charges were dropped. After my daughter told me what you're planning, it seemed reasonable enough to find out whatever I could about you. When your son gets to this point in a couple of decades, you'll see it from my side."

"You know about Gus?"

"Brian, for the love of God, give me some credit here. I'm one of the top prosecutor's in New York; of course I have connections to find out about people. You can't honestly believe that I would just let you waltz in here and dance away with my grandson, did you?" He took a small drink of his beer before setting it on the coaster on the table next to him and standing up. "It's a nice day and the others are all busy getting the meal ready. Take a walk with me so we can get to know each other a little bit."

They got up, headed for the front door when Bill called through," Jennifer? Brian and I are going to stretch our legs a bit. We won't be long."

"Alright, but be back inside of thirty minutes or we'll start without you." Like that would ever happen.

With no real choice, Brian got his coat from the closet in the entryway and joined him on the front steps.

They made their way to the end of the driveway and stopped as Brian lit a cigarette.

"That's a bad habit."

Brian didn't bother to answer.

"Fine, I'll drop it, but I'd appreciate you not encouraging Justin to smoke. With his allergies and asthma it's dangerous for him, more than for most people and he listens to what you say."

Brian exhaled smoke. "Justin doesn't listen to anyone if he doesn't want to."

"That's bullshit and you know that as well as I do. That boy worships you, it's written all over his face." They walked down to the corner, turning and going across the street to a small park. It was deserted with the holiday. Everyone was probably inside sitting down already, or about to.

"Do you and your wife always come here for Thanksgiving?"

"No, not always. Sometimes we go to our other daughter's, sometimes they come to us. We always get together, though. Craig hasn't shown up for a couple of years, of course, but that's no real surprise after what happened between him and Jenn." They continued to stroll. "I take it that you're not close to your family?"

Talk about your fucking understatement. "Not exactly."

"What, exactly?"

"My father is dead, my mother believes that I'm going to Hell but I'm told that she prays for me daily and my sister and I haven't had a conversation in abut twenty years that was longer than four sentences."

"So what would you be doing today of you weren't here? Sitting home alone?"

Brian picked up a scarf someone had dropped on the path, putting it on a bench they were passing. "I'd be with friends and my son."

A few more steps. "Is that how you relate to Justin—as a parent figure?"

Brian burst out laughing. "Not really, no."

Bill's glare could put Joanie's to shame, he stopped Brian's smile dead. "Evidently you're amused, but I want to know just what the Hell you plan for my grandson and if it's just a few quick rolls in the hay I'll have your ass out of his life so fast you won't know what hit you—do you understand me?"

"Three years is more than a few fucks, wouldn't you say?" He'd had about enough of the third degree. "Jennifer told you why I'm here today so let's cut the crap. I want to ask Justin to marry me over the Christmas break next month—which would mean that I'd probably show up at your house, at least for a day or so of the holiday since that's where he'll be then. I assume that she told you that. The plan is that we'll go up to either Vermont or Canada and get married. He'll be my legal partner, listed on my insurance and in my will. Now if you have a problem with that or with me, just fucking tell me now so I know where I stand here."

Bill didn't even bat an eye. He was used to theatrics in his line of work, though he had to admit that Brian was good at them.

"That's all just fine as far as it goes."

"But…?"

"But have you given any thought to what will happen when Justin grows up? Nineteen…"

"Justin is twenty."

"Twenty is young to get married, no matter who you are. A lot of things change between twenty and thirty—you know that. And the gap between twenty and thirty-two is enormous. You can't expect me to believe that you and Justin consider yourselves equals, do you? What will happen when he starts to chafe with being the subordinate partner? You know that's inevitable. Justin is a bright young man with healthy self-esteem. He won't take that forever."

No shit. "We'll deal with it as it happens."

"You're not that naïve. You must have given this thought before this or you wouldn't be considering taking a semi-permanent step like you are. If nothing else, I doubt that you would be willing to risk the amount of money it would take you to get out of this if things don't work out."

Brian stopped walking, taking a few seconds to light another cigarette. Bill thought that he was probably stalling for time. He was likely right.

"Of course I've thought about it. Justin is still young in some ways, certainly, but I don't see that as a problem for us. Not really."

"You think he'll keep you young or some rot like that?"

"No. That's not what I think."

The two men turned and started back to the condo. It was getting close to the time dinner was supposed to be ready.

"Well…?"

For another half block the only sounds were their feet crunching on the gravel. "I wouldn't ask Justin if I didn't believe that it would work. You're right. I'm in my thirties and I've had time to learn what I want—and what I don't. If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't be doing this."

"Do you love him?"

Debbie had asked him that same question a year ago and he couldn't say the words. That was a year ago.

"Yes. I love him."

"Enough to put up with him? If you were having a bad day—or a bad year, would you still be able to say that?"

Brian stopped, looking at a couple of birds flying overhead, circling then soaring out of sight. He nodded, obviously thinking about what he'd just been asked. That was his answer.

"We've had any number of bad days and a bad year. We're still together."

Bill lightly took his hand, stopping him. "You're not going to hand me that line about love conquering all, are you?"

Brian regarded him for a second, deciding how to answer. "No. I know it doesn't. Justin may not yet, but I sure as hell do."

"I'm glad to hear you say that because you're right. If Justin doesn't know it yet, he will. What about that other boy, the one he left you for a year or so ago? He still in the picture, or someone like him—for either of you?"

"No. That's history."

"You screw around on him?"

"That's none of your fucking business—no. Not any more."

"Good. See that you don't." They were only a block or so from Jenn's. "Just tell me one last thing."

Brian stopped, looking and waiting for the shoe to drop.

"Are you two friends?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Are you friends? Do you like each other—I mean out of bed. Can you sit down and have a conversation? If something is bothering one of you, can you talk about it? Do you have fun together? Besides sex, do you like one another?…Are you friends?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A couple of months ago the usual group had been together at the diner, Mikey had been talking about something—Brian hadn't really been listening since his attention was on Justin, busing tables nearby. The boy would turn and catch his eye, smile at him and go on with his work.

It was when Mikey said the phrase "Brian and I have been best friends since we were fourteen…." for the ten millionth time but this time it caught Brian up short.

He had wanted to blurt out, "Used to be. Justin's my best friend now."

He hadn't, he had just kept his mouth shut as he realized that it was true and as it sank in.

Justin was his best friend.

Not Mikey, not anymore.

Justin was.

Justin was the one he told things to. He was the one he shared the details of his day and his work with. He was the one he wanted in his bed—not just for sex, but to keep the boogeyman away. Justin was the one he shared secrets with and whose opinion he sought out. Justin was the one he liked to hang out with whether they were at Woody's or in the park with Gus or just watching a movie at the loft.

Justin was who he called when he needed to tell someone something, whether it was good or bad.

And Justin?

A few weeks ago he had just come out of the shower, standing in the bedroom choosing some clothes, when he had heard Justin talking to Daphne down in the kitchen. They didn't know he was there. The two kids were obviously stoned, looking for munchies and giggling.

Justin had said, "God, Daph, you're the only one I can stand being stoned with—I swear, there should be a law about getting wrecked without your best friend around."

"Well, that is just such bullshit—you know Brian is your best friend now."

There had been a long moment of silence as Justin digested this then he started giggling, "Well, yeah, he is—but you'll always be my oldest friend—and you're still the only woman I've ever fucked." They laughed, giggled again. "You're my best woman friend, anyway."

After putting on jeans and a tee, Brian had walked, barefoot down to where the kids were eating potato chips on his white rug. He sat down on the couch behind them and he still remembered the look on Justin's face when Daphne looked up at him and said—rather solemnly—"I'm his oldest friend, but you're his best friend. Don't screw it up."

Justin had smiled his big smile and just nodded his agreement.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Yes, Bill. We're friends."

"Good friends?"

"Best friends."

Bill was a lawyer and a good one. He knew when he was being lied to. He knew Brian was telling him the truth. "All right then. You should get married, if that's what you think you both want. You'll have a tough road, but if you've got that as a base to build on, you might make it."

They were back at Jenn's and the dinner smells were coming through, even out to the steps. Going inside and taking off their jackets, they went up to the living room. Justin appeared at his elbow, his hand on his shoulder. "Everything alright?" The boy had known what the walk was about.

Brian gave him a half smile, wondering if Justin knew they were best friends. He probably did. He was a smart little fuck. Leaning over, they kissed, right in front of Bull, not sexually, but kissing like lovers who are happy to see one another, happy to be together and knowing that they'd have more later. "Everything's fine. Is dinner ready?"

Justin nodded. "Mom has the turkey out, resting. I think she wants Grandpa to carve it and she wants you to open the wine."

Nodding, Brian went into the dining room where the wines had been put out for him—one less thing to clutter up the kitchen.

Justin stood close by as he pulled the corks. "Is everything really alright? I was watching from the window—it looked like you two were having a pretty serious talk out there."

Brian put the bottle of whit back in the ice bucket. "He's just worried about you."

Justin gave a half smile, trying for a joke. "I think he's more worried about you—despoiling me and leading me astray."

Nodding, the boy was right, "Yes."

"Brian?"

They could hear the talk in the kitchen, friendly banter and argument about the dressing. "Do you think that I'll end up hurting you?" The question was an honest one, something Brian wanted the answer to.

Taken aback, Justin thought for a moment. "I think it's more likely that I'll end up hurting you. You took me back after what happened. I guess that means that you trust me."

The boy might be right about that. He smiled, what the fuck. "Screw it. Forewarned is forearmed."

"I'll try not to, though."

"I know."

Ten minutes later the meal—too much food as was to be expected for Thanksgiving—was on plates and everyone had started eating. There were the usual compliments to the cook, the food was about what you would expect from Martha Stewart—perfect.

The two men were seated next to one another at the now spacious table, with Molly claiming the chair next to on the other side of Brian—with Sally and Neil's settings removed, there was enough room for everyone. With some clinking of silverware on crystal for attention, Bill raised his glass and looking directly at Justin and Brian made the toast.

"To Friendship."

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