It had become almost a ritual for me now.

I stoked the fire in the pit on the back deck, then sat back down, hands on the armrests of my chair, and watched it burn.

It might’ve been two or three or four in the morning. The sun still hadn’t come up.

I’d dropped Archer off near a string of hotels, and he told me he’d walk from there. Immediately, I’d assumed he didn’t want me to know where he was staying because he was with someone else. And if he was, it still didn’t make it any of my business.

Like I’d been reminded, I hadn’t stopped him from leaving three years ago. In fact, I was the one who’d practically shoved him out the door.

So what changed from then until now?

Was I older? Wiser? Lonelier than ever?

Probably at least two of the three.

But that wasn’t what kick-started my late night or my need to sit in silence and stare at the fire.

When I’d seen him again, sitting in that bar looking lost and solemn and just so him, that was when I’d realized what an idiot I’d been.

Did I want an easy life? Sure, who didn’t? I never wanted to lose my wife and mourn her death for years in solitude. I hadn’t wanted to feel a soul-deep connection with my son’s best friend—a man almost twenty years my junior.

But there it was.

I leaned forward and scrubbed my hands over my face.

I didn’t know what do to. But I did know what I wanted. And it wasn’t for Archer to be with me, it was simply for Archer to be happy.

That, at least, I could do.

---

“Danny, got a minute for your old man?”

“Yeah, I’m out grabbing a coffee. Taking a little break from work anyway. What’s up?”

Oil gently sizzled on the bottom of the frying pan as I cracked open an egg.

“Need a favor,” I said. I held my cell phone between my ear and shoulder as I cooked myself breakfast.

“Sure. What is it?”

I hesitated for a moment and then said, “It’s about Archer.”

Danny whispered a thank you to someone in the background. There were noises where he was—talking, clanking of glassware.

“Ace?” Danny asked. “What’s the matter?”

“No, nothing like that. I need you to find his brother’s cell phone number for me.”

Danny stopped talking for so long, I might’ve thought the call had disconnected if I hadn’t heard the background noises still in full volume.

After what felt like a lifetime, Danny asked, “Why?”

“I’m going to call him and try to convince him to talk to his brother.”

“You might as well forget about it. I tried that once when Ace was in the hospital. Took me six tries to even get through to the guy, and when I did, he told me he had no interest in seeing Archer again. That guy’s a total jackass.”

I winced. “Yeah, that’s what I figured. But I have to try.”

“Does Ace want you to do this for him? Because, I gotta be honest with you, Dad, that’s a little weird. He’s not the type to reach out.”

“No, he doesn’t know.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

I sighed heavily and set the spatula down on the counter.

“It’s fine,” Danny continued. “I get it. Some kind of maternal instinct after you two spent all that time together.”

“No,” I answered immediately, hating the urgency in my voice. “No. It’s nothing like that.”

On the other end of the line, again, Danny was silent.

After what felt like hours, eventually he exhaled loudly. “Fine. You two are private people—I get it. And if it takes one recluse to reach out to another, I can handle that.”

Danny’s tone sounded a little… off.

“Everything okay with you, Danny?” I asked, immediately worried. Danny hadn’t exactly been wrong about my parental instincts.

“Yeah, just tired. Busy. Exhausted.”

“That all?”

He resisted for a moment before saying, “It’s strange talking about Ace all the time when I barely talk to him anymore. Things are different between us. They have been for years. After everything that happened years ago, the attack, him telling me he was gay, everything’s been different. It was almost like he couldn’t even look me in the eye after that. He used to at least pretend to be happy around me, for my sake. I knew it was an act, but at least I had him around. And now…”

Danny trailed off.

I wondered if I played a role in the stress between them. Probably. Another checkmark next to the list of things I’d managed to fuck up.

“But anyway,” Danny continued suddenly. “Ace’s asshole brother’s number. I’ll text it to you when we get off the phone.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, Dad. Actually, I was thinking of getting away from here in a few weeks. Maybe taking a trip up North to see all the polar bears.”

“Oh, yeah, July is high season for polar bears in Banff. You’ll want to get out here pronto.”

“Just what I thought. Maybe in two or three weeks I can manage to get away. Might be nice to breathe some fresh air for a change.”

“You know you’re always welcome back home, Danny. Hell, you can move back in if you want.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think so. But you should, you know.”

“I should what?”

“Think about getting a, er, roommate.”

“The house is paid off. Why would I need a roommate?”

The silence said enough. Before Danny could respond, I said, “Yeah, maybe. I’ve been thinking about it.”

Immediately, his voice raised an octave. “Really? Are you seeing someone? Thank god. I thought you’d die a born-again virgin.”

I groaned. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Okay, okay, fine. Well, are you? Seeing someone?”

“Sort of.”

“Is it serious?”

“For me.”

“Not for her?”

I would tell him. I would. But not today, and not like this. It wouldn’t be fair to him—or Archer—for Danny to find out this way.

“Danny,” I said, “let’s talk about this when you come to visit.”

He laughed. “Yeah, okay. I’m just thrilled that you seem happier, Dad.”

“I’m trying.”

---

It wasn’t until later that night that I called Andrew.

I’d eaten a quiet dinner alone, lost in my thoughts. A familiar record played softly in the background as I sat at the dining room table with a glass of red wine and looked at the number Danny had texted me.

Was this too invasive? Was I wrong to do this?

Maybe. But if it garnered good results, well, I’d take the blame and be nothing but happy to do so.

As I sat back in the chair and put the phone to my ear, I looked out the tall glass windows and waited for someone to pick up on the other end of the line.

Eventually someone did.

“Hello?” a voice asked.

Funny, but I’d expected his voice to sound like Archer’s. It didn’t.

“Hi,” I said, “is this Andrew Hart?”

“Speaking. Who is this?”

“My name is Mallory Patel. You don’t know me, but I’m calling about your brother, Archer.”

A prolonged silence extended through the phone line. It lasted so long, I almost thought he’d hung up or the call had been dropped.

“What about him?” Andrew finally asked. His voice had changed slightly, sounding sharper.

“I’m his… friend. I’m reaching out to you because I’m not sure Archer can. I’m hoping you have a few minutes to talk about him.”

His laughter sounded harsh. “Friend, huh? Sure, Mallory. You have five minutes.”

The hostility in his tone threw me, but really it shouldn’t have. Danny had warned me, and it wasn’t exactly that I’d been expecting a warm willingness to talk about Archer, but I hadn’t expected this.

“Archer has some issues in dealing with his past, particularly the loss of your parents. It’s not my place to say even this much, but I really think that your involvement might help him overcome some of that. He’s told me… a bit about the relationship between the two of you. He hasn’t said as much, but I think it would be good for him to have an open connection with you again. If you’re willing.”

“I’m not.”

Again, I was shocked by his flat-out rejection. But this time, my tone changed as well. “And may I ask why not?”

“I don’t want anything to do with him. What—who—he is a tarnish on my parents’ memory.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“I know what he is. Disgusting.”

“Listen,” I snapped. “I won’t make the mistake of calling you again or encouraging Archer to have anything to do with you if this is the way you want to end your relationship with your brother.”

“I ended my relationship with my brother years ago. I want nothing to do with him or his lifestyle, and I don’t want him to have anything to do with me.”

I realized how tightly I was squeezing the stem of the wine glass. Before I broke it in half, I pushed it away and rested my hand in my lap.

“Archer is an amazing man and I think you’re making a huge mistake by cutting him out of your life.”

“I really don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Well, I think my five minutes are up,” I said.

And then I turned off the phone.