He started the car and they drove off from Mrs. Trejo’s house, waving goodbye to the assorted relatives in the front yard who had gathered to see them off.

“It was good to see Mom and everyone else,” Nick said. “I could see them more often if you’d let me use your car.”

“You’re not insured on my policy.”

“You could add me.”

Bill turned on to the on-ramp to the 880. “I’ll look into it.”

“You’ve said that before,” Nick muttered and subsided to a sulk that lasted until they pulled into a parking space in front of their house. Nick slammed the door when he got out and began walking down Diamond Street.

“Nick,” Bill shouted. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a walk,” he snapped without looking back.

Mrs. Donohue, who had been sweeping the porch, saw it all. Bill came up the steps with a smile and a shrug.

“You boys have a fight?” she asked.

“No, Nick’s just in a mood.”

“He’s been in a lot of those,” she observed quietly.

“Yeah, I hadn’t noticed,” Bill said, anxious to end the conversation.

Mrs. Donohue made a skeptical noise at the back of her throat.

“You can’t keep him locked up. He’ll fly away.”

Bill flushed. “No one’s going anywhere, Mrs. D. We’re fine.”

He hurried into his apartment before she could respond. He dug out the bottle of Jameson he kept hidden beneath the sink and poured half a tumbler. No telling when Nick would come home. No telling how whether the night would end in fucking or in a fight. He might as well get drunk while he waited.

12.

12.

I dropped in to the diner as usual for the next couple of weeks. Adam and I had our usual conversations but he didn’t bring up getting together again. As I was unfamiliar with the etiquette of hooking up with a straight guy, I was reluctant to suggest it myself. Then, one morning, after he delivered my Denver omelet with extra toast, he asked in an overly casual voice, “You busy tonight?”

I had an AA meeting at seven but what I told him was, “I’ll be free after eight. My place? Eight-thirty?”

He grinned. “Yeah.” He tore off a sheet from his order pad and said, “Write down your address.”

I carefully wrote out my address. “Don’t expect much from my apartment.”

“Does it have a bedroom?”

“It has a bed.”

“Good enough.” He tucked the paper into his pants pocket. “See you tonight, stud.”