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

Demonstration done, I scrunch the paper towel. Sarajane makes a backward rush toward me.


“Don’t be wasteful!” She winds the paper toweling back onto its mount. “Not everyone can afford to buy the Bounty factory, my fine sir!”


Another reason to go, windfall zingers like that one. This is how it will be if I stay. I scratched off three cranes and hit the lottery, and now, he has more money than he knows what to do with. It’s the same awe I heard from Raoul. It will be the concealed joy buzzer in every handshake: sparks, my palm smoking, zap! “Dinner and drinks are on Barry! Forever!”


I wipe condensation from the windowpane. A large daisy suncatcher is adhered to it. Mom joins me to look through the colored glass at the snowy grounds.


“I like your hair short,” I say admiringly. “It’s spiky.”


Chapter 49