“Couldn’t sleep,” I say, closing the door behind me. “Been up most of the night.”

“Oh?” he says with an arch to his eyebrow.

“Not like that,” I mutter.

“Too bad.”

“He’s straight.” Right?

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” Right?

“Fascinating.”

I stand beside him. “How so?”

Sandy shrugs. “You would know better than I would.”

I don’t even know what that means. Desperately needing a change of subject, I ask, “What are you doing out here?”

He turns his face forward again, straightening out his back, wiggling his shoulders and taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “Meditating,” he says.

“Oh, man. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I feel really bad. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about breathing, is that it’s annoying to be interrupted. “I’ll go back inside.”

“You’re fine, baby doll. I’ll admit to not being very good at this yet.”

“How come?”

He frowns. “You’re supposed to clear your mind, but I find that absolutely impossible. I always seem to be thinking about something.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Though, it’s not really possible to clear your mind. Your brain is always firing.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. It’s better to think of something mundane and focus on that. If you do that, it’s easier to follow your breaths.”

That smile comes back. “Sounds like you know what you’re talking about.”

I shrug. “I might know a thing or two.”

“Few things on your mind?”

“That might be an understatement. I have… issues.”

Sandy laughs, not unkindly. “Don’t we all?”

“Mine are diagnosed issues.”

He waves me off. “And what difference does that make?”

“I… huh. I don’t know. Sometimes, it’s hard for me to breathe.”

He nods. “One breath at a time, right?”

“I guess. Why do you want to meditate?”

“I’m stressed.”

“Aren’t we all?” I tease him.

“Cheeky little twinkie,” he says with a grin. “Being Helena is taxing, to say the least.”

“She slips through sometimes, huh?”

He grimaces. “You could say that. I don’t have the hold on her I used to. I’m not as young as I once was. It can be tiring.”

“What are you, twenty-six?”

“I might have to keep you around. You’re very good for my ego. I’m thirty-one.”

“Wow! I didn’t think you were that old.”

“Now I don’t want to keep you around at all,” he says with a scowl, Helena flashing behind his eyes. “As a matter of fact, I might auction you off tonight to the highest bidder, who’ll probably be a forty-year-old businessman from Des Moines staying at a Motel 6.”

I wince. “Sorry. My mouth tends to go before my brain does. It’s my brother’s fault. I learned it from him.”

His eyes soften, but I can see the drag queen still flitting around. “You remind me of Paul, a bit. He’s the same way.”

I shudder. “Then I feel sorry for you, having to be subjected to this all the time.”

“I’ve learned to deal,” Sandy says dramatically. “Now, you think you can help me?”