Brian sat down on Debbie's couch, looking at the familiar room. He rarely paid attention to the 70's wallpaper that desperately needed updating or the coffee table that was probably in need of some loving care when it had been picked up at the local Goodwill thrift store. The wooden staircase, well worn from thousands of ascents from Debbie, Michael and later Uncle Vic. Even the television, sitting on its oversized stand was outdated, but still functioned with a pair of rabbit ears. The room was tired, filled with furnishings that had seen better days long before Brian had left his childhood home.
However, this home, unlike his own, was filled with love and caring. He could still see Debbie giving him an ice pack as he lay on this very couch when his father had given him a black eye. He could hear Debbie tell him that he was invited to stay for dinner on the many days he would show up as she was finishing the preparations for said meal. He could see Michael and himself watching the latest MTV videos after school while they were supposed to be doing homework. There were so many memories of this room from his teen years, and now, as an adult it was where the family dinners were held. Each week, their little self-made family gathered to talk of their lives and share a sense of belonging.
While there never seemed to be enough money in either his biological home or this one, in Debbie's home there was always a sense of caring and family. He could not imagine having any type of conversation with his mother regarding his drinking or anything else happening in his life. While Debbie wasn't the mother who gave birth to him, she was more a mother to him than Joan. Debbie reached out to him when she felt the need to give advice or make him see where he'd needed to take action; Deb never feeling guilty that she was intervening even if she had no right to do so.
He hadn't expected her to ease into this conversation as she wasn't one to make small talk. Having known Debbie for over 20 years, he was used to her abrupt manner. Debbie wore her heart on her sleeve as well as all her thoughts. No one ever had to guess her opinion or what she thought about an event. There were definitely some advantages to knowing exactly where you stood when it came to Debbie's thoughts. Brian had kept this secret for over 10 weeks, and he was tired of hiding it from her.
"Hello, Deb," Brian said, trying to start the conversation in a civil manner. While he expected Deb to jump right in, he still wanted a little transition to the conversation.
"Hello, Brian," she said, acknowledging his greeting. "I heard an earful at dinner tonight. Mel and Linds went on and on about how you were not going to support Gus anymore. How could you do that to him?" Debbie reached out and hit him gently on the head, her eyes filled with incredulity at his deeds.
He expected backlash from his actions, having been served the restraining order; therefore, wasn't surprised at the statement. Taking a small breath he said, "Deb. I never said I wouldn't support Gus. What I told Lindsay is that I'm not giving her any more money for Gus. I told her that I will buy all of his clothing and pay for all of his school activities. I'm just not giving the money to her." Brian emphasized the words illustrating that he was still planning on supporting Gus, just not giving the money directly to Lindsay. The accusation didn't upset him as he'd expected Lindsay to retaliate, but he hoped that Debbie would listen to his explanation rather than Lindsay and Melanie's.
For the umpteenth time in the last few days, Brian wished that he had a bottle of beer in his hand or a shot of "Jim" in a glass. He found it ironic that the very thing, alcohol, that he was eliminating from his life due to wanting to make his life better, was the thing that he was wishing fervently for at this moment. These were difficult conversations and historically ones he would avoid at all costs. However, he accepted that it was all part of his recovery as well as his growth as a person. He was beginning to figure out who he was and what he wanted in life.
This conversation,while somewhat innocuous, was probably one of the more important ones that he'd have with his ‘family'. He was fairly certain how each of the members in his ‘little family' would react to his news, but Debbie was an unknown. While she would be happy that he had stopped drinking, her reaction to the fallout could go either way. Since he knew that Mel and Linds would balk at his financial decisions, and Michael would have difficulty accepting that he wouldn't go to Babylon, he was expecting their reactions.
Debbie's reaction was more dependent on how others reacted. If she felt that Michael's friendship with Brian was more important than Brian's sobriety, she would choose Michael and Brian would be persona non-grata. Her reaction to the financial ramifications with Gus' moms was a little less volatile. She was pro-family, no matter if that family did not have biological ties. As long as Brian continued his relationship with Gus and didn't abandon his son; Debbie would probably not get involved in the disagreement. However, if Brian stopped having Gus in his life, then she would most likely be involved. She had priorities.
"I see," Deb said as she looked at Brian's eyes, seeing the truth in them. She'd known Brian a long time and could always tell when he was keeping something from her. She'd known there was something going on with him for several months, but whatever it was had not stopped him from participating in the family dinners and other gatherings. She had decided not to push him into telling her what it was, choosing to wait until he was ready.
Brian ran his hand through his hair and sighed. He'd made a habit of letting everyone think what they wanted about him, choosing to ignore the negative comments and allowing them to roll off his back. But he'd learned that this wasn't always the best option.
"Of course she did." Using air quotes he continued. "Closing the ‘Bank of Brian' puts a crimp in their budget. Well, the word budget is probably not in their vocabulary. Ted looked through the cancelled checks that I had written to Lindsay in the last six months. She has a habit of coming to me claiming she needs money for Gus, but when he stays with me Gus tells me that Lindsay says he should just ask me to buy him shoes, cleats, or to pay for after school activities since they don't have the money. Earlier in the week, she told me he needed money for some school field trip, but when I contacted the school, there was no field trip planned. I instructed the school to contact me with all requests for money." Brian's voice started to rise as he recounted the conversation with the school. He remembered feeling like a child being reprimanded about an unfortunate incident when he spoke with the principal. He'd been furious with Lindsay for trying to manipulate him. Debbie placed a pillow behind her back as she tried to find a comfortable position. She started to open her mouth to respond, but Brian held up his hand to let him continue.
"It was very evident the money wasn't being used for Gus since he has asked for new soccer cleats, money for outings at school and even money to buy a present for his friend's birthday party. I never balk at buying him those things, but where is the money going that I'm supposedly giving to Linds for my son?"
As she sat on the sagging couch, she took one of the throw pillows and placed it behind her side as she continued to look at Brian. "This old thing isn't meant to sit sideways on," she said, smiling at her statement. "I think I might have to invest in a new one. I'll have to make a trip down the Goodwill on 4th street and see what they have." Her statement confirmed Brian's earlier assumption about the origin of at least some of Debbie's furniture.
"Debbie. I'll buy you a new couch. We'll go somewhere, other than the Goodwill store, and you can pick out whatever you want. This way, it will not be well-worn before you even get it in your home." Brian had previously not offered to buy things for anyone except Gus, but the idea of buying Debbie a new couch made him happy.
Debbie leaned over and kissed Brian on the cheek. "You don't have to do that. I have a good job," Debbie said.
"Deb, your ‘good job' puts food on the table, pays your bills, and lets you buy a few things from the home shopping network. Melanie is a lawyer, for fuck's sake. She probably brings home 4-5 times what you do, and Lindsay works full time as well. Sure they have Gus, but as I said, I've been buying most of his clothing and paying for his school activities and giving them money to do the exact same thing," Brian said, explaining to Debbie the true financial picture for Gus' mothers.
"But a new couch is expensive," Debbie said.
"Debbie. Let me do this. Tell me when you have your next day off and we'll go shopping. My only stipulation is that we're not going to a second hand store or to WalMart. It will be a quality couch."
"Okay. My next day off is Thursday."
Brian stretched his legs out so he could reach his phone, pulling it out of his pocket. He opened his calendar and looked at Thursday, seeing it was jam packed with appointments. He couldn't go after work because of AA. "Are you always off on Thursdays?"
"Usually," Debbie said.
"I can't do it this Thursday, but next week looks good. I'm blocking out the morning." He turned off the screen on his phone and put it back in his pocket.
"A new couch isn't going to change things. Melanie made it sound like you were going to stop giving them money. And the way she put it, ‘if he isn't going to support his son, then he shouldn't be allowed to see him either.' She made air quotes as she repeated Melanie's statement.
The silence between the two was palpable. Debbie thought about what she'd heard tonight from the girls and now what she was hearing from Brian. "She made it sound like you were planning on shirking your financial responsibility to Gus. What a cunt! And Lindsay just added to the tale by telling everyone how Gus spent the other night crying when she told him he couldn't see you," Debbie said. She took a moment to look at Brian. His face was different. There were no longer dark bags under his eyes and his hair had a new shine to it. While Brian always took meticulous care of his looks, she couldn't remember when he looked this healthy. His skin was even different; he looked the picture of health.
"That didn't sound like you. Hell, you just offered to buy me a fucking couch. I knew there had to be another side of the story. I'm proud of you, Brian. You are a great dad," Debbie said.
"But you dropped Gus off tonight. How'd you do that if they have a restraining order?"
"I'm on the list of approved people and I called the school and told them I was picking him up. I don't think Lindsay expected me to pick Gus up at school. I think she expected that I would forget about my visit when she put the restraining order in place. In the past, I probably would have just said, fuck it and let it go. But this time, that wasn't going to happen."
"Sneaky. If you picked him up at school, then you weren't in contact with them," Debbie said, impressed by Brian's solution. "So, the restraining order is their solution?"
"I guess they decided that if I stopped giving them money then I couldn't see Gus. According to my lawyer, that won't hold up in court. I've got proof that I've provided financial support to Gus for his entire life. Besides, in Pennsylvania, I can't sign away my legal rights. I'm still responsible for Gus." Brian was very happy that he'd taken the necessary steps to obtain legal protection. He continued the explanation.
"Lindsay has always hounded me to be a part of his life, in part, so that I would give her money for his support. When I cut off the money, she felt that she could use Gus as a way to manipulate me into continuing the financial support."
"You got a lawyer?" Deb said, her eyebrows raising in surprise.
"Yes. I thought Lindsay would try to pull some stupid shit like this. Actually, she told me that Gus wasn't safe with me since I'm attending AA. Fuck that shit! He's always been safe with me. I would never put him in jeopardy."
"A lawyer?" Deb repeated, trying to get Brian to tell her more.
"Yeah. I had Gus take a DNA test to prove he was my kid. Of course, anyone who sees him can't deny that. But, I wanted to be sure that I could have continued access to Gus." No one but Justin and Ted knew about the lawyer, but telling Debbie would mean that it would be public knowledge soon. Brian realized that he was proud of his actions involving Gus and was perfectly fine with other people knowing. However, Brian wasn't ready to tell her about his accident, and how that was the turning point in his life. Maybe someday he would tell Debbie about the harrowing event, but for now there were too many other topics to be discussed.
"I did some serious thinking when I decided to get sober. I needed to figure out what I wanted out of life. I looked at all the parts of my life, even the financial. While I have plenty of money, I wanted to be sure that Gus was cared for."
"Those cunts. Telling everyone that you were selfish and had decided not to support Gus anymore. Gus said you had told him you would be shopping with him. The girls made it sound like that wasn't going to happen since he wouldn't be seeing him. Gus seemed to not be fazed by them. I guess he knew your take on it."
"Yeah. When I picked him up from school, we went to Kohl's to buy him clothing that he could leave at my house. I figure he will take a few things home each time he visits me. The boy grows like a weed, so it won't take long before I've replaced all his wardrobe." Brian remembered Gus telling him that his moms shopped at Target for his clothing. Brian wasn't surprised that he needed clothing all the time as their clothes were not the quality of the items they bought today. While he couldn't stop Gus from growing, he could purchase items that wouldn't wear out before he outgrew them.
"With me being sober, I have more time to spend with Gus. My increased availability was the impetus to tell Lindsay about my sobriety. She would question my decision since I had never shown interest in having Gus so often." Brian heard the clock chime 11:00 p.m. He hadn't thought it was that late. He couldn't believe he was still talking to Deb and not rushing to get out of her house. Justin would be proud of him and that made him happy. He wouldn't call Justin tonight as he would probably be painting, but he was sure the hamsters would be playing several versions of the future conversation in his mind later tonight.
"So it boils down to money, not really your sobriety?" Deb said. She reached out for Brian's hands, clasping them in her hands, squeezing them gently.
Brian squeezed back and then took back his hands. "Besides not giving her any more money for Gus, I told her I wanted to spend more time with Gus, maybe have him most weekends. I think that is where she got the idea of a restraining order. She's not used to me wanting to be with Gus. She still sees my relationship with him as one she has to manipulate, convincing me that I should spend time with him."
"Anybody can see he adores you. He talks all the time about what the two of you do together. When Emmett asked him how the burgers turned out, you should have seen everyone's face. I've never seen them speechless. Michael asked him why you were cooking since you could just go to the diner. Gus told him that the two of you were trying new things together. He told us about the woman who hit on you at the grocery store. That had everyone rolling on the floor. I would have loved to see that." Debbie smiled as she pictured Gus and Brian looking at the spices in the grocery with some woman trying to hit on Brian. She had witnessed similar pick up attempts numerous times throughout the years. While living so close to Liberty Avenue made such picks up less common, there were a number of people who lived near the area who were not gay; therefore, the grocery store pick up still occurred.
"Speaking of Michael, he seemed to be really quiet. Do you have any idea what's up with him?" Debbie asked, satisfied with her initial inquiry.
Brian was a little surprised that Michael hadn't complained to Deb about Brian, but he knew Michael. Michael would not want to admit that his best friend didn't want to hang out with him. While Deb had appeared supportive of the situation between Gus' mothers and Brian, he was unsure how she would react to Brian's ultimatum.
"He's having trouble accepting that I'm an alcoholic. I told him that if he can't accept that I'm an alcoholic, then our friendship was over," Brian said. He didn't want to beat around the bush and couch his words in innuendo. He preferred to pull the bandaid off the wound and it was indeed a wound. He'd been hurt by Michael's refusal to accept his sobriety, but had ultimately decided that Michaels' feelings were less important than his continued sobriety.
"What is his problem? I've seen you drunk, hungover and shitfaced through the years. You've tried the complete alphabet of drugs on the planet. Even though I don't hang out at the bars, I don't doubt that you are an alcoholic. Joanie and Jack were great role models,"she said, the sarcasm so thick you could cut it with a knife.
"He seems to feel that since he is my best friend, he would know if I had a problem. Since he didn't know, it obviously isn't a problem. He thinks I should be going to the bars and Woody's with him," Brian said, no inflection in his voice. He was tired of fighting with Michael and trying to convince him to reinvent their friendship. If Debbie couldn't accept his decision, then he would learn to live without her as well. He'd learned in the last few months that he needed to do what was right for him, not right for anyone else.
"You don't take a screaming child into a toy store and reward him with a toy. If you're an alcoholic, you need to stay away from temptation. Honey, you're right to not go to the bars and to Woody's." Deb was quiet for a few minutes as she contemplated Babylon and Woody's without their ‘Stud of Liberty Avenue' in residence. "I bet you are hanging out at the baths a lot, since you don't go to Babylon any more."
Brian shook his head. "I'm not discussing my sex life with you, even if you are a gay man in a woman's body."
Debbie laughed. "I've walked in on you and a few of your conquests. Just curious. Brian Kinney, Stud of Liberty Avenue hasn't been to Babylon in months. I can't imagine what the gay grapevine is talking about."
"Not my concern. Someday I'm sure I'll go back, but not until I'm sure that the temptation of booze is off the table," Brian said, not elaborating that he hadn't had sex with anything but his right hand in a very long time. While he missed the conquest, he finally understood that his recovery was more important than his cock. He made a mental note to talk to Justin about that as well.
The furnace kicked on, making a loud rattle. Brian thought everything in the house was old. He wondered why he'd never realized it before tonight. He'd been learning that things were not as important as people, but he still hadn't quite mastered that concept. Debbie had obviously learned that her home was more than the four walls, ancient wallpaper and saggy couch. It was where the family gathered, joked, and shared their life experiences. Before he could rejoin this "family" something would have to be done about the restraining order. He decided that maybe it was time to start some new traditions with Emmett, Ted, Gus and maybe even Justin. If he couldn't legally come to the family dinners, he would just have to reinvent the family dinner to meet his current needs.
"Debbie. I've got to go. Kinnetik doesn't run itself." Brian stood up, picking up his coat and putting it on.
"I'll talk to Michael," Debbie said.
"Don't. I need to know that he accepts who I am and what I am. If he can't, then it is his loss."
Debbie frowned and said, "Are you sure? I'm sure I can get him to see reason."
"I'm sure. Michael is an adult. Thank you for offering." Brian leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "Night, Deb." He walked to the door and went to his car.
The conversation had gone a lot better than he'd expected. He just hoped that his lawyer had a solution for the restraining order. Sitting there talking to Debbie, he realized he would actually miss the family dinners.
Brian drove home and got ready for bed. It was late and he wasn't lying when he told Debbie that he had to get up in the morning. A lot had happened today, but the day had ended on a positive note. Closing his eyes, he fell asleep quickly.
He was busy at work the following day and really didn't have much time to think about legal matters. When his alarm went off, signaling it was time to shut down so he could go to his meeting, he was surprised at the time. He had accomplished a lot and didn't need to take any work home.
When he arrived at the meeting, Justin was at the coffee station. Walking up to him, he said, "Hi."
Recognizing the familiar voice, Justin turned toward Brian and returned the greeting, "Hi. I didn't hear from you last night so I take it things went well?"
"Yes," Brian said, but before he could elaborate, the leader called them to the group.
"Tonight's topic is "Projection: Living in the Wreckage of the Future." That is a mouthful, but what does it mean? In simple terms, it means stop thinking ahead. We are our worst enemy when it comes to catastrophizing the future. Mark Twain said, "Most of my life's worst experiences never actually happened." We need to stop worrying about the future and live each day.``
There were quiet mummers amongst the members in the group. "I'm Sally," said a middle aged woman with a bob haircut and blonde highlights in her brown hair. She was wearing a pullover light green sweater and jeans. "I agree. I used to drink every day after work as I would go over all the things that I thought my boss would call me on. I learned that he wanted a team player and that he knew everyone makes mistakes. After that, it got a little easier."
"I used to worry all the time and then I'd drink to calm my nerves," said another man in the small circle.
"But isn't planning a part of AA? I've been hearing that we have to have a plan in case the urge to drink comes up," Brian asked.
"This is a little different. You're right, having a plan to avoid taking that first drink or any drink is definitely important. This philosophy is more about overall worrying. People worry about all kinds of things, but most of them don't happen. The idea is to put the worrying out of our minds and concentrate our thoughts on living instead," the leader explained.
"But I need to think about my business and how I'm going to grow it. I worry about quarterly profits and finding new clients. It just seems counterproductive to say no one should worry," Brian said.
"Okay, look at it this way. Being concerned or worrying about things we have control over is acceptable. The worry we are talking about here is worry about stuff we have zero ability to change. Worrying my art show bombing or selling enough paintings to pay the bills are things that I have no control over. The public either likes my work or they don't. Worrying isn't going to change the outcome and I've wasted lots of energy on it," Justin said.
"I'm Calvin," said the man sitting next to Brian. He was wearing a button down dress shirt and dress pants. "As a business owner myself I can identify with you. Sure I worry about profits and building my brand. These I can control. I can use focus groups and get opinions from prospective clients about my product. I can investigate marketing plans and invest in personnel that I think have creative ideas. These are me taking control of things I can control. Sure I worry about whether a new product will sell, but if I did my homework and controlled all the things in my power, worrying about sales isn't going to get me anywhere. I'll just feel like I have no control and then I'm at risk to drink."
"So, really it is about worrying for the right things?" Brian said.
"I guess you could describe it like that," said the woman sitting next to Justin. "For me, I found that if I just take care of myself, and the things I do, I feel calmer. I can't control anyone but myself."
"I think I understand," Brian said.
"Well, that's all the time we have tonight. See you next week. Coffee is in the back," The leader said.
Brian sat in the chair, watching the other members go to the coffee station as they chatted amongst themselves. Justin watched him, watching the other people, wondering what he was thinking.
"Coffee?" Justin asked, realizing that the majority of the attendees had left the room.
"Sure," Brian said. "I was just thinking about what everyone said tonight. I guess the hamsters started early. Same diner? The one around the corner?"
"Yep. Meet you there."
The two men arrived within minutes of each other and sat in the familiar booth at the back of the diner. This had become their go to place when they attended this meeting and the waitress acknowledged them as they walked in. Without asking she brought them a pot of coffee and extra creamer for Brian.
"I'll be back in a minute for your order. Take your time." She smiled as she poured their coffee.
They had come here often enough that both men knew the menu, but Brian still picked up the menu that sat in the little metal holder at the edge of the table. He was hungry, having barely stopped to grab a few bites of the turkey sandwich that Cynthia brought to his desk. He no longer held onto his rule of no carbs after 7:00, changing it to watching his carbs after 7:00. He ordered the meatloaf with a salad, certain that the meatloaf had some carbs to hold the beef together. Justin ordered his normal burger and fries.
After the waitress took their order, Justin said, "I guess things went okay last night. You didn't call." He put a creamer into his coffee, preparing it to his taste.
"Yeah. Better than I expected. Gus' moms told everyone that I was refusing to support Gus anymore and Debbie accused me of abandonment."
"That's terrible," Justin said, his heart hurting for his friend.
"At least she was willing to listen to my side. When she heard Gus talk about our weekend, she realized that his moms were the ones with the issues."
"I bet you were relieved," Justin said as he looked at Brian. Brian did not have his forefinger and thumb on his nose, signaling stress and his shoulders were not tense.
"We even talked about Michael. She offered to talk to him, but I told her that it was his decision. She seemed to understand my point of view and support it. I guess time will tell with that situation." Brian didn't rehash the entire conversation and Justin did not ask him to do so. Justin offered to listen and that was enough for Brian.
"So tonight....It's like a version of one day at a time?" Brian asked as he picked up his mug of coffee.
"Yeah. We can't plan for every inevitability and even if we could, it wouldn't be effective," Justin said.
"So, are you telling me all the thinking I've been doing, you know the hamsters in my head, was really unnecessary?" Brian asked.
"No. Working the 12 steps is extremely important. Those hamsters are helping you figure out why you drink, what you want your life to look like and help you make plans so that you learn how to handle stress and don't turn to drinking. This is more like helping you realize that once you figure those things out, you just have to start putting them into practice. You have to live," Justin said. The waitress brought their food and they spent a few minutes eating their dinner.
"It's like giving me permission to not play the ‘what if' game everyday. Once I get the stuff with Gus' moms handled then I just enjoy my time with him. Sure, I have to think about the legal stuff and the logistics of picking him up etc, but I can stop worrying about the situation," Brian said. He took a bite of his meatloaf, deciding it really needed a little flavor and poured some ketchup on his plate.
"Right. There are no guarantees in life. I'm sure there will be fights with Gus or problems with his moms in the future, but the idea is not to worry about the ‘what if's'. When something comes up, sure you can worry about it, but until then just take each day as it occurs and live." Justin dipped a french frie in the ketchup on his plate and ate it. "I know I say this every week, but these are really good fries. I don't know what they do to them, but they are great."
"I guess that worrying about everything takes its toll on your psyche. If I'm not worrying about things, then I actually have to recognize my feelings. Smart strategy." Brian dipped another bite of his meatloaf into the ketchup, smiling at the improved taste.
"Right. Speaking of worry, have you heard anything from the lawyer about the restraining order?"
"No. I can't worry about it. She'll call when she knows something," Brian said, a little tongue in cheek. He smiled at Justin as he made the statement demonstrating that he understood the message from the meeting.
"Speaking of worry...My show opens in two days. Sure, I worry a little about how the critics will like my work, but I've accepted that I can't influence their opinions. They either like it or they don't."
"I guess I'll hit the noon meeting that day. I don't expect that we'll be making our normal one," Brian said, mentally reviewing his calendar for the day. He remembered that he had blacked out the afternoon to ensure that he could get any pressing projects completed and could attend the opening. "I'm still looking for a piece for my loft. If your paintings are anything like your photographs, I'm sure I will find something to my liking."
"I hope you enjoy the show, but don't feel obligated to buy something. Speaking of the opening, have you thought about what you will do when the cocktails come around?" Justin asked. He'd explained to Brian his own strategy to avoid drinking, but he wasn't sure that Brian had thought about this event.
"Shit! I hadn't thought about it. Do you think your agent could get the waiter to fill my glass with sparkling water? I'm not sure if I'm really ready to turn down free booze."
Justin smiled at Brian and nodded his head. "I'm sure she would be willing to arrange something. I'll talk to her tomorrow." Justin finished his burger and ran his last french fry through the ketchup on his plate. He used his napkin to wipe his face, clearing any residual ketchup from his mouth.
Brian finished his meatloaf. "Will you be able to attend the noon meeting or will I need to go alone that day? Alone is fine. I'm not some newbie at his first AA meeting." Brian said as he waived to the waitress to bring their checks.
"I'm not sure. Sometimes I'm available and need to find things to keep me occupied until the doors open and other times I feel that there are just not enough hours in the days leading up to the event. I'll try to show up, but I just don't know."
"Fair enough. I've got a busy day tomorrow, so I better get going," Justin said.
"Me too. I'll walk out with you," Brian said. He picked up the check and the two men walked to the cashier to pay their bill. They put on their jackets and walked to their cars. Brian's car was parked closer to the door. Justin stepped forward and gave Brian a hug which Brian returned. He was beginning to expect this action from Justin and wasn't uncomfortable with it. He wondered what other changes he would see in himself in the next few months.
"Later," Justin said as he let go of Brian and walked to his own car.
"Later," Brian said and watched him walk away. Yawning, he realized that he really was tired. He drove to the loft, gathered his mail, and glanced at it to verify that there was nothing of utmost importance.
He briefly reviewed the discussion from the evening and decided that it suited him fine to just wait for the lawyer to call him. He'd done the important parts, having Gus' DNA tested and contacting the lawyer. Worrying about what would happen wouldn't change the outcome. A feeling of relief washed over him. As frequently happened since he began this journey, he realized that he was happy and looked forward to what tomorrow would bring. He undressed and readied himself for bed. Closing his eyes, he slept without any concerns about his future.
TBC