"I thought for sure the next time I'd see you would be on the news, dead in a gutter." Liz pours coffee for him in a bunny-print mug. She must get a real kick out of that.

"So much faith in me," He has to look her over with an appreciative glance. Liz has filled out nicely. No more knobby knees or thin stick figures. She looks like a real woman. There's a nice bounce in her step as she runs around the kitchen, looking for a packet of cookies. It's so surreal, seeing her act like a domestic house wife.

"Randy must have hid them." She sits with her legs crossed and one arm supporting her head. "Or he ate them all. That jerk,"

"He's your husband, right?"

"Yeah, you'd know if you came to my damn wedding." He has an unapologetic grin. "Wipe that smile off your face. I wanted you to walk me down the fucking aisle, and you didn't even open the invite."

"I'm younger than you, remember?"

"Never acted like it," She snatches the cigarette out of his hand, "can't smoke in here. If I can't smoke, you don't get a smoke. You're an old man in a kid's body. Always have been."

"You're half crazy," he slides his – Garry's – lighter across the table. "I never grew up."

"Damn right you didn't," Liz slides the lighter back without even looking it over. He pushes it toward her again. She's still holding the cigarette. "You didn't need to. You're an old man, Josh. An old man under all that – will you stop it? I'm not taking a smoke."

"Come on, at least let me have one." He taps a shaky beat on the dining table. It's mahogany, glossy on the top and perfectly clean.

"No, then I'll want one. I've quit. And you ought to too. First thing I've heard from you in years, and you want me to smoke."

"Fine, would you rather reminisce? I remember a tiny gnat from Lowell's that used to follow me everywhere…" He gulps down his coffee, black without sugar. Liz makes a face as she pours milk into hers. Then, a mischievous smile erupts on her face.

"Just like the one you've adopted?" Then Liz is across the table, slamming an open palm onto his back. He coughs up black spit onto the nice wood. It's a mix of coffee and the normal shit in his lungs.

"What?"

"You're a big softy, and don't try to deny it. I hear things too, ya know. I didn't know you'd taken a liking to any of the kids." She rubs circles into his back, first to stop him from choking on coffee, and then her circles become soft arms rubbing his shoulders and neck.

"Are you high?" His head falls back to look straight up at her. The back of the wood chair starts to dig into a particular spot between his shoulder blades. It's irritating on the slightly protruding lumps that mark his spine.

"Not anymore."

"Right. Because of Robby."

"Randy."

"Randy. Of course."

"Well? Are you gonna tell me about the kid? That's why you're here, isn't it?"

"I can't visit?" Liz raises a single eyebrow. He can only pretend it isn't a loss and continue, "Look, you've got a decent set of morals on you, right?"

"Yeah, before I got mixed up with – well, same as you."

"I don't do people-"

"I disagree, and so would a whole lot of angry women. I remember one in particular-"

"You're listening, remember hon? I'm the one with the real problems here."

"Ass," She slaps his shoulder only half-playfully. The only reason he doesn't rub it is his manly pride.

"Alright, I don't understand people. Is that better?"

"Yeah, I hear fewer innuendos in that sentence."

"You'd hear innuendos in a wailing dead baby."

"That makes no sense."

"Please," he says, "just shut up for one moment so I can get the hell out of here."

"I knew you were just using me. Why did I ever think otherwise?" Her sighs are overdramatic and completely unfitting for his current mood. "What's up with Garry?"

"… I don't know." There's a brief pause where he's staring into an empty cup and Liz stops her light touches on his tense body. She lets go of him, circling around so that she is sitting on the table next to him.

"Do you really? I think you know exactly what's wrong, but you're refusing to tell me 'cause that's how it's always been. I know I'm a bit of a spaz and a gossip, but I don't give away secrets – especially not your secrets, Josh. I mean, not the real secrets 'cause everyone knows you used to be a mule so that's not such a big deal. I haven't even told anybody about your obsession with-"

"Shut up." He tries hard not to raise his voice, but every part of him feels tight and anxious and a bit nauseous at once. The tone forces her to flinch away, one arm thrown across her body and clutching tight on the forearm of her other arm.

Words get caught in his throat most of the time. This isn't any different. If he could continue to speak, he'd explain himself. Tell her that he hates to live in the past, and he hates bringing it up. He'd insist that they let these matters lie and focus on what he knows is an issue at the moment. That doesn't change the fact that he lies in bed, thinking of nothing but the past. Or that as he works as a construction worker, a waiter, clerk – whatever his job of the week may be, his thoughts are singular. It's only those times. All the rest, he's living in the present. He tries hard not to think of it, but thoughts are like little spiders creeping up in the dusty cogs of his mind.

"Josh," Liz startles him from his thoughts, "I'm sorry. You don't have to tell if you don't wanna."

"Garry is-"He has no idea how to put it into words. Garry is a pedophile. That's what he wants to say. It sounds so disgusting when he puts it into words. Garry is a good guy, that's why people like him and not Joshua. They pity Garry for graciously putting up with a guy like Joshua. Why does he even care? Garry's his only friend, so he should support everything the guy does. Friends are enablers; that's why he and Liz are still friends. And he doesn't even like Ib, though she seems rather attached to Garry. He doesn't care about any of this.

"Garry's in love." Is what he finally blurts out.

"Is that all?" But he can't say anything more for the rest of their talk other than a few pleasantries and a half-hearted goodbye. They talk – well, Liz chatters – about a few mutual friends and how life has been and even about the weather. For some strange reason, he can't explain why Garry being in love is a terrible thing. In the end, he isn't involved. He won't be involved. Liz gives him a funny look as she chases him from the house. She pats his back, telling him it isn't the end of the world. It'll be the end of the world when Garry goes to jail. Or worse: gets killed by a pair of sensible, logical, and slightly violent parents.

It makes his stomach drop, to see an empty home. That means Garry is with her again.