Brad can hear the sound of children playing from the back yard before he even starts climbing the stairs to Maria and Peter’s house. He shifts the two large, wrapped gifts from his right arm into his left and presses the doorbell. He waits for twenty seconds, but there’s no movement behind the frosted glass door. He rings the bell again. No wonder they can’t hear the door, with the music and chatter that’s loud even from out here.

Finally, on the third try, there comes a hurried clatter of heels on tiles and the door swings open.

“Brad!” Maria pants. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you over that racket.”

“Hey Maria,” he says, hugging her with one arm. “Am I late?”

“No,” she says, exasperated, and waves him inside. “Everyone else was early.”

Maria closes the door and leads the way down the elegant corridor. When she and Peter bought the house shortly after Brad had inherited his, they had opted to renovate it in the classical style it had been built for, rather than follow Brad’s post-modernist lead. Now, chrome, marble and mirrors glint and gleam everywhere, and while it’s not his personal style Brad has always admired the job their interior decorator did on the place.

The patio doors are thrown wide. Against all odds, the weather has improved, and the day settles into a bearable summer warmth.

“We could’ve gone to the Botanical Gardens after all,” Maria sighs, glaring at the sunshine streaming in through the windows. “Now I have this mess in the house!”

Just then, there’s a crash and a shriek from the kitchen. Maria expels a sharp breath. “What now?” she mutters, and leaves Brad standing in the hallway with the gifts still clutched in his arms. He turns toward the living room again, but then the doorbell rings. Not wanting any newcomers to cool their heels on the stoop as he just did, Brad hurries to open the door.

“Neal,” he says in surprise when the new arrivals are revealed. “Eric!”

His partner beams at him. “Hey Brad! I had no idea this was where we were going.” He nods at his husband. “Neal has just made partner at Peter’s firm. I didn’t put two and two together until we pulled up outside.”

“Come on in, guys,” Brad says and steps aside. Neal holds out his hand, smiling.

“Hi Brad. The world is small, huh?”

Brad shakes the offered hand. He likes Neal. He’s good for Eric, even if they’re an unlikely pair. With his salt-and-pepper hair, his George Clooney good looks and the tailored suits he prefers, Neal tends to look out of place in the midst of Eric’s much younger friends. But he’s a kind man, quiet and sociable. And today, among his new partner’s acquaintances, he’ll be much less conspicuous than Brad and Eric, even without wearing his tailored suit.

Brad is about to move them into the dining room, but just then two small boys come shooting into the hall. Their little faces are flushed, and the knees of their jeans are green and muddy from playing in the yard.

“Uncle Brad!” one of them yells. “You brought us presents?”

“Hey, buddy,” Brad says as Kyle barrels into his legs. He crouches down and hugs the boy, who squirms in his arms like an excited puppy. Then he hands him the gift that contains a toy car. “Happy birthday!”

He holds the other box out to Jay, who is the quieter of the twins. Jay beams and grabs the box. “Thanks, Uncle Brad!”

Neal crouches down too and holds a smaller box out to each of the boys. “Here you are, guys,” he says.

“Thank you,” the twins say in unison. Then they’re off, whooping and laughing, to unwrap their gifts.

Brad straightens up, and he, Eric, and Neal make it into the living room at last. The furniture has been moved against the walls to fit a number of tall bar tables, a temporary bar, and a DJ mixing desk. About a dozen adults stand and sit around, chatting. Despite her grumblings, Maria loves entertaining, and has taken the excuse of the twins’ birthday to put on a get-together the adults will enjoy, too.

Maria hurries through a side door, her eyes wide. “Eric!” she exclaims. “I thought I recognized that voice!” She turns to Neal. “So you are Peter’s new partner! I can’t believe that penny didn’t drop sooner. So good to meet you!” She waves at the open door. “Peter is out there at the BBQ. He’s having so much fun, I’m almost glad the caterers couldn’t spare anyone to flip burgers.”

The doorbell rings again, and Maria sighs. “Go help yourselves to drinks,” she says as she hurries away. “Peter will let everyone know when the meat is burnt…I mean, lunch is ready.”

She hurries away again, and Brad leads the way to the bar, behind which a young man in a white shirt and bow tie hands out drinks. They each ask for a beer, then retreat into the garden, where it’s no less noisy, but the entertainment is better. More than half a dozen kids between five and ten play soccer. Jay waves at Brad. “Come play, Uncle Brad!” he yells.

“Soon as I finish this,” Brad calls back, lifting his beer.

“I’ll play,” Neal says, grinning. He hands Eric his own beer and pulls off his light sweater. Then he jogs over to the boys, who absorb him into their team.

Brad and Eric find two garden chairs nearby and sit down. Eric watches Neal, a smile on his face. “I had wondered why he said yes to a kiddie party,” he muses. “Now I know.”

“Neal has a son, too, doesn’t he?” Brad asks. Eric nods, his face now glum.

“Michelle moved Sean to Philly a couple months ago.” He sighs. “Neal misses him so much.”

Brad looks at Eric, feeling a great sadness. It’s easy to forget that he’s not the only one with problems.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know.”

Eric shrugs. “Why would you? I haven’t exactly shouted it from the rooftops that this year’s been shit. Neal and Sean just spent a week in Disneyland for Sean’s eleventh birthday. They had a lot of fun, but I think Neal misses him more than ever now.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?” Brad asks. “I wouldn’t have minded you taking a week off.”

The lines around Eric’s mouth grow hard. “Michelle prefers me not to be around the kid. Guess it’s easier to forget your husband left you for another man when you don’t have that guy shoved in your face.” He shakes his head and rubs his eyes. “It’s all a bit fucked up right now. Before Neal and Sean went away, we were considering adopting, or a surrogate. He hasn’t mentioned it once since he’s been back.”

Brad isn’t sure what to say. Anything that comes out of his mouth will be trite now. But saying nothing seems the wrong thing, too. “Give him time,” he says, touching his knee to Eric’s for a moment. “He loves you, and that still counts for something. And,” he nudges Eric a bit harder. “You’ll be a great dad, when the time’s right.”

Eric gives a wan but grateful smile. “You and Aiden ever thought about it?” His eyes grow wide and he looks apologetic. “I mean, before…shit, Brad, I’m sorry. I forgot for a moment.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Brad says. “He’s still part of my past, and I’m not going to pretend we never happened.” He’s silent for a moment, then makes himself answer the question. “We talked about it a lot, early on. Then things…”

“Got complicated,” Eric supplies. “Yeah, I know.” There’s a small pause, then Eric adds, “Have you heard from him?”

Brad hesitates. He has tried to forget about the mystery phone call the night before, but it still weighs on his mind. “Actually, I had a strange call last night,” he admits. “There was someone at the other end, but they never spoke. They didn’t try again, and when I rang back there was no answer.”

“Was it a New York number?” Eric asks.

“Yeah.”

“And you think it was Aiden?” When Brad nods, he adds, “You’re worried something is wrong.”

“Yeah,” Brad admits. “And I can’t stop thinking about it. I don’t know the people he used to hang out with before we met. I don’t know if he’s still in touch with any of them. He never was when his depression got so bad…”

He stops, not looking at Eric. He can’t put it into words, that feeling of helplessness that he always gets when he remembers Aiden and his illness. But he has to try. This has been haunting him for weeks, and since last night he can’t stop thinking about it. Maria would listen to him, of course, but she’s too close for comfort.

“I worry about him so much. He was in a very bad place when we broke it off.” He takes a deep breath. “Do you think I should try to find him?” he asks. “It’s not gonna be hard.”

“Do you want to?” Eric asks.

“I don’t know.” Brad rubs his face, staring across the yard, not seeing the kids running around like balls in a ping pong machine. “Something’s still…open, and it drains me.”

“Do you want him back?”

“No.” Brad has thought about it again since last night, and there’s no doubt in his mind about that. “That ship’s sailed. I just want…”

“Closure,” Eric supplies.

“And to see that he’s landed on his feet, yeah.”

Just then, Peter’s two-year-old nephew Theo toddles toward them from the house. He carries a football clutched against his chest. The ball is almost as long as his whole body, and Brad can’t help smiling. Theo giggles, his little legs running as quickly as they can. When he reaches the lawn, he trips and goes sprawling.

Brad is out of his chair and by Theo’s side before the little guy can even get over the shock enough to start bawling. He snatches Theo off the ground just as the boy’s face contorts with shock and pain. “Hey, little man,” he says, bouncing Theo. “No need to start a racket, you’re all good.”

Natalie, Theo’s mom, hurries across the patio. “I’m sorry,” she pants over Theo’s howls. “He’s too fast for me sometimes.”

“Don’t worry,” Brad says, still rocking Theo, whose sobs quieten now. “He just got a little shock, and grassy knees.”

Natalie smiles. “Thanks,” she says as Brad hands the toddler over. “You got him to shut up in record time. You’ve got a knack for this, I think.”

Clutching her son against herself, Natalie goes back into the house.

Brad returns to his chair and picks up his almost empty beer. Eric gives him a funny look.

“What?” Brad asks, disconcerted.

“You shouldn’t stop looking, you know,” Eric says, grinning. “For Mr. Right.”

“Who says I have?” Brad asks, a little harsher than intended.

Eric raises his hands in mock surrender. “Just don’t, is all I’m saying.”