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Chapter 30

As usual, the tables were split across three rooms—it used to only be two, but then the “kids” started having kids of their own, and things got crowded. Beau’d never quite found the right place, however. He was too old to be sitting with the toddlers, with his four-year-old second cousin tossing slices of cucumbers into his milk, and yet he still had very little in common with the young adults, all marriages and babies and jobs and mortgages and furnace filters.

Like life. He just didn’t quite fit in anywhere.

He took his seat next to his brother’s girlfriend on one side and the empty chair that his mother had placed—tellingly—for Dee, and stared at his food. The empty chair bothered him, an invisible, nagging reminder of the things he’d done wrong, the things he should have said differently, the person he should have been and wasn’t.