The mid-40s are that time in a gay man's life when his major paradigm shifts from sexy to Sansabelts. But when Barry Grooms's partner of twenty years is killed on Barry's forty-fifth birthday, his world doesn't so much evolve as it does explode.<br><br>After navigating through the surreal conveyor belt of friends and family, he can't eat another casserole or swallow much more advice on what constitutes grief. Still numb, he leaves his homestore and design business in the care of others as he escapes to Key West, then New York. There he gets a thankless new job working for a crazy lady in a poncho, then has too many drinks with a narcissistic Broadway actor. Next it's a nude exercise class that redefines flop sweat, and from there he's on to a relationship with a man twenty years his junior.<br><br>Yet no matter how great the retreat from the man he used to be, life's gravity spins Barry back to the small town where he grew up for one more ironic twist that teaches him how to say goodbye with grace.

The Cool Part of His Pillow

Dee goaded me into buying surrounding land when it became available. I gutted three old school buses, arranged them in a U-shape, repainted them a brighter yellow, and they became a specialty lighting depot. I added a freestanding custom home theater center, tracking down the same brick as that of Packard Elementary.


Mr. Albanese, a professional arborist nudged into retirement, then approached me. He and his wife overplanted a small wood behind us with seasonal produce and herbs that they sold under a side awning. Friends of his inquired, and it turned into a Saturday farmer’s market on what was the playground, where I placed picnic tables, swings, and a basketball court for families to make a day of it. It’s grown large, and Mr. Albanese wants to extend into winter with root vegetables and ice fishermen friends who want to sell their catch.


Chapter 6