Minor laughed. “The rich hold their money tight and their lovers tighter. I remember.”

“Couple days after that, Astrid and I saw you swing by on the E-Minor. You had a fellow with you.”

Minor’s face went far away. “Man, that guy… Laurence. He was something else.”

“What happened to him?”

Minor flicked a shoulder. “Went home with his rich wife. Like I knew he would.”

“He was married?”

“You cannot be this dumb and be related to me. I refuse. Can you divorce a sibling? Honest to God, I’m going to hire a lawyer tomorrow and find out.”

“At the risk of sounding like a drunk chump, you’re my favorite brother and my best friend and I care about what happens to you.”

“I know,” Minor said. “When I’m nervous I crack a lot of jokes. Make enough and they build up into a wall.”

“You don’t have to hide who you are from me. If I was disgusted or ashamed of you being queer, I wouldn’t be sitting here asking you questions about it.”

Minor cleared his throat and rubbed a circle on his chest. “Damn, my heart’s pounding.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my rock-dumb brother and I care about your opinion. Now buy another round and give me a second to calm down and put my thoughts in a line. Jesus H…”

Kennet signaled the waitress. Minor lit a cigarette and settled back in the booth, picking invisible lint off his sleeve. “Major taught me three things about being gay. And if you don’t mind, it’s the word I prefer over queer. I don’t care what slang you use when my back is turned. To my face, use gay or nothing.” He smiled. “Please.”

“Noted.”

“Three things he taught me. One is not to be ashamed of who I am. Which I’m successful at. Most of the time, anyway. The second thing is to be really fucking careful about who I let close to me. Which I mastered after getting beat up a few times.”

“Beat up when?” Kennet said sharply. “By whom?”

Minor waved it off. “My problem, not yours. And lesson learned, so don’t worry about it. The third thing Major taught me is to be realistic. Guys like me don’t get somedays and someones. Not if we want to operate in nice society. We get discreet bachelorhood or a marriage of convenience with a secret-but-devoted piece on the side. If we’re lucky. If we’re really lucky, we get a Johnny MacIntyre and we get to be a town’s worst-kept secret because our family’s been here forever, we own a bunch of prime real estate and we proved ourselves men during Prohibition. Major’s an exception, not a rule. I don’t even hope to have my life turn out like his.”

“What do you want your life to be?”

“Hell if I know.”