Page 88 of Out of the Storm

“Jeff, it’s up to you,” he said. “But if you’re uncomfortable...”

Shame began to burn beneath Jeff’s skin. Dammit, this was pathetic, wasn’t it? He couldn’t let Donwin. Jesus, he needed to be able to visit abar.

“Yeah, yeah, we can go,” Jeff relented, trying to ignore the pit that had come to settle in his stomach.

Brandon’s face lit up. “Great.”

“Uh...” Gary shifted in his seat. He was looking at Jeff like... like he thought Jeff might break. “Or, well, I’m not really a bar person.”

Gary Goddamn Graham trying to save him.

“Well, then you can be our ride home,” Brandon said.

“No!” Jeff blurted out, remembering the horror of the stop-and-start back in Oklahoma. “God, no. I’ll... I’ll stay sober.” Even though a couple of beers or a whiskey cocktail would really help settle his nerves. “You two have fun. Drink your faces off.”

“I still have my radio show later,” Gary said.

Smirking, Jeff said, “Gare, it’s radio. You have no need for your face.”

“Very funny, Jeffrey.”

“Time’s a-wastin’, fellas,” Brandon said from the back.

“Seat belt,” Gary chided.

Brandon scoffed. “What a bummer this is turning out to be.”

He still put on his seat belt, though. Brandon was pretty much a pushover.

So, Jeff took them to The Buckeye, a bar that had a couple of billiards tables and popcorn as a bar snack, rather than nuts. The moment they went inside, he found himself relaxing a bit. No Don. Don wouldn’t be here. Brandon was sure of it, and he trusted Brandon.

Brandon ordered some silly cocktail Jeff had never even heard of, Jeff ordered a beer—which he’d have to nurse for the entirety of their visit because there was no way in hell Brandon wouldn’t be three sheets to the wind within the hour—and Gary ordered a whiskey sour. When the bartender walked away, Jeff looked to Gary and cocked a curious eyebrow.

“Youordered a whiskey sour?” he asked.

“Hey now, I’ve had whiskey before. I made myself a whiskey lemonade once.”

“Whiskey lemonade,” Jeff repeated. “Notexactlythe same as a whiskey sour.”

“I’ll be honest, it was mostly lemonade.”

“Gare, be careful.”

“I know my limits.”

“If you end up on your ass—”

Brandon cut in, “Isn’t that what you’d want though,Jeffrey?”

Jeff leveled a look. “Bran, that nickname is not yours to use.”

“Ugh.” Brandon scoffed dramatically. “You stay friends with someone for over twenty years, and this is how he treats you.”

With a slight roll of his eyes, Jeff turned back to Gary. “Sorry. Again,” Jeff mumbled.

“I like him,” Gary said. “He’s interesting.”

Brandon said, “I’m right here, you know.”

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