Brian drove to Deb's, thinking about his talk with Justin. Why am I friends with Michael? Is he really my friend or do we hang out just because we always have? I love Gus. I'd do anything for him, but do I love anyone else, including myself? Why did I tell Emmett, and will he keep his word about my AA meetings? Why, why, why?

Brian arrived and was slightly agitated by his numerous thoughts. He liked his life better when he wasn't thinking about every move. But before he allowed his brain to go down that path, he acknowledged that he actually enjoyed parts of his sobriety. He liked having a specific place to go every night. He was beginning to enjoy waking up without feeling his head pounding, or like he had been hit by a truck. He liked the feeling of being able to open his eyes in the morning without feeling that they were filled with sand. On the other hand, he didn't really know what to do with himself in the evenings. After his meetings, it was still early, and he had several hours stretched in front of him without his normal past time of shooting pool and/or picking up tricks. Of course, there was the issue of picking up tricks. He wasn't fond of trolling for guys on the internet, but as long as he was getting his needs met, he wouldn't really think about that situation.

Sitting in the car for several minutes, he watched Deb's front door as the family walked in. Emmett wore a pair of tangerine pants with a purple silky top, looking like he might have stepped out of a 70's movie. Ted and Blake walked side by side and were laughing at something. They kissed each other on the cheek before walking into Deb's house. No one seemed to notice that he was sitting across the street and not getting out of his car. He didn't want to think about the reason for their lack of acknowledgment. As he watched the front door, he was started by a knock on his driver's side window.

Turning toward the noise, Brian noticed Gus. He rolled down the window. "Hey, Sonny Boy."

"Dad. Why are you sitting in your car? Are you okay? I know you like to make an entrance and be fashionably late to most things, but this is Sunday dinner. You don't have to impress anyone here," Gus said as he reached for the car door.

"Just thinking about a lot of things. I'm fine. Let's go inside. I'm sure Debbie has a huge pan of Lasagna with enough cheese and garlic bread to meet my carb limits at least three times over."

"Dad. You crack me up. You are one of the thinnest people I know and yet you act like food is your enemy. You can eat carbs all day, but you gotta do it in moderation. We studied nutrition in class last week. Did you know that carbs have 4 calories, the same as protein? In fact…"

"Gus. It is true that carbs and protein have the same number of calories, but your body processes them differently," Brian responded as they walked to the door. Before he could continue his conversation, Michael opened the door and gave him a kiss on the lips.

"There you are. I was beginning to think you were going to blow us off like you have the last few weeks. I haven't seen you in ages," Michael said as he ushered father and son into the small living room.

"Michael, I just saw you on Friday. In fact, I saw you twice; once at my office and the second time when you barged into my loft insisting that I go with you to Babylon. Since today is Sunday, I don't think that two days constitutes ages. True, I didn't make it to breakfast at the diner this morning, but I was in the middle of my workout and I think you would appreciate me keeping my sweaty body at the gym rather than at your breakfast table," Brian said, tongue in cheek. He could feel his body tensing at the accusation. His anger was building up, but before he could react, Deb broke in.

"Michael Charles Novotny, leave Brian alone. It doesn't matter what did or didn't happen. Brian was here last week and he's here to spend time with everyone now. Let's not spend time discussing what he did or didn't do. You can't change what happened. Let's enjoy Sunday dinner. Now, why don't you help me get the Lasagna out of the oven? It is pretty heavy," Deb said as she headed to the kitchen, not waiting for an answer, but expecting Michael to follow her.

Brian listened to Deb's statement to Michael and wondered if she had ever said those words to him before. He remembered Peter's words to live in the present, not the past. You can't change the past but you do have control over your present and future. As far as he knew Deb was not a recovering alcoholic. She drank an occasional glass of wine with Sunday dinner and he's seen her drink a beer or two at Woody's. But he'd never seen her drunk. Yet, she was sending the same message to Michael that he'd heard in the AA meeting. Before he could ponder that thought any further, she called everyone to dinner.

"Brian, where were you this morning? You never miss Sunday brunch," Michael asked ignoring Deb's instruction to not worry about the past.

"I told you, Michael, I was at the gym. Are you getting old and forgetting what I said to you just 10 minutes ago?" Brian asked, somewhat tongue in cheek. He took a sip of his water. He made a point of putting water in his wine glass, hoping it would draw less attention to him not drinking any wine.

Emmett wasn't sure where Brian had been this morning, but he thought he might have been attending an AA meeting. Brian would not give up his work out and most likely would not forego Sunday dinner, so it seemed to reason that if he wanted to attend a meeting, he would have to give up something else and Sunday brunch seemed logical. Since he would see the whole family at Deb's, he would be able to do all the things that were important.

"So Gus, I understand you had a birthday party yesterday. How was it?" Emmett asked, hoping to change the subject of Brian's whereabouts this morning.

"How'd you know he had a birthday party?" Melanie asked, slightly suspicious that Emmett knew about the event.

"Gus and Brian often eat at the diner on Saturday nights before he takes him home, but last night Brian was by himself. I asked him where Gus was and he told me about the party," Emmett said. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and placed the napkin back on his lap.

"Oh," said Melanie.

"So, Gus, how was your party?" Emmett repeated his question.

"Cool. We went to a new trampoline place. I got to jump on trampolines and there was an arcade we got to play in too. Afterward, we had chocolate and white cake. I'd love to have a trampoline party." Turning toward his mothers, he looked at them with pleading eyes. "Can I have a trampoline party for my birthday?"

"No," said Mel.

"We'll see," said Lindsay.

Brian did not say anything. He knew whatever party the girls decided was acceptable would be discussed and then they would hit him up for the cost of the shindig. He realized again that he provided a lot of money to them for Gus and yet anytime there was an unusual expense such as a birthday, new cleats for soccer, or even new clothes for school, they claimed they did not have the money. He was beginning to think that they just saw him as the Bank of Kinney. He hadn't really thought about the issue much, but now that he was thinking a little clearer these days, he was beginning to question many areas of his life. He didn't care about the money; he had plenty, but he did not like the uncertainty regarding his visits with his son.

Thankfully, Michael did not ask Brian again where he'd been. The dinner conversation ranged from the new class Lindsay was trying to get started at the GLC, and the difficulties she was encountering from the board, to the latest gossip on Liberty Avenue. As usual, Brian did not contribute much to the discussion but found himself listening to everyone's sharing of their everyday lives. He took a quick inventory of his life the last couple of weeks, and the only thing of note was his attendance at AA meetings. He really did not want to share that information, besides they were called anonymous for a reason. He doubted that the "gang" would want to enter into a philosophical conversation about love and tolerance or living in the moment.

When dinner was over everyone helped Deb clean up and put away the folding chairs. Brian looked at the group of people in attendance and thought about his relationship with each of them. Deciding that for the most part, the connection was one he enjoyed, he felt an unusual calm come over him. He had begun doubting what his life would look like without Babylon and Woody's, and now saw that truly there was more substance to his life than he had realized.

Michael and his husband Ben left first, stating that Ben had some papers to grade and a lecture to prepare for. Gus and his mothers left next as Gus had to get to sleep since Monday was a school day. That left Emmett, Debbie and Blake and Ted sitting in the living room.

"Brian, honey, are you okay? You seem awfully quiet today," Debbie asked as she picked up a glass on the table that had been missed by the gang in their quick clean up. She eyed the glass of wine at the table seeing there was just a little left in the bottom. Not one to waste anything, she picked it up and tilted the bottle toward Brian, knowing that Ted and Blake wouldn't drink any and Emmett was usually a cocktail drinker.

"Want to finish this off, There is just a little left and I hate for the bottle to take up room in the fridge," she asked Brian.

All the men looked at Brian knowing that he shouldn't drink it, but wondering if he was going to decline and give Deb a reason for not drinking. Deb noticed the looks they gave Brian and quickly deduced their meaning. She quickly reviewed the evening and visually remembered that Brian had put water in his wine glass. She remembered thinking to herself that it was odd but had decided to not push the subject at the time.

"That's why you haven't been to Babylon or Woody's and my son is having ten fits that he hasn't seen you?" She said, without stating her actual deduction out loud. She walked into the kitchen and placed the bottle in the door of the fridge and then returned with a fresh bottle of water for herself.

She came into the living room and kissed Brian on the cheek, smudging off the residual lipstick. "Brian, honey… Is the cancer back? Is that why you can't drink? From the looks that these guys gave you, they know what's up." Debbie asked solicitously. She remembered how Michael fell apart when he heard that Brian had cancer. It had been over 5 years, and she thought the 5-year mark was the critical one regarding recurrence.

Brian toyed with his response. He really hadn't planned on telling anyone else. He was already questioning why he told Emmett. He understood why he told Blake and Ted; Ted worked for him and he'd been a real support when he'd battled cancer. It was unlikely that he could keep anything this significant from Ted, especially since Ted knew about the car and his accident. Emmett, it seemed, had caught him in a moment of weakness and vulnerability. He was feeling a little sorry for himself, although he would never admit to that feeling. He was sad that Gus had not spent the remainder of the day with him and he was questioning his "new" life. Recognizing that he needed to develop new routines had begun to concern him as he was at a loss how to fill his time with activities that would not have him rushing for the nearest bottle out of sheer boredom. But telling Debbie, his mom, would be an entirely different level of disclosure.

On the one hand, he didn't want to lie to her, but on the other hand, he didn't want all of Liberty Avenue to know that Brian Fucking Kinney was an alcoholic. While he had his doubts about telling Emmett, he knew that Emmett would probably not tell anyone. Debbie was a loose cannon. She might have every intention of keeping quiet, but if she said anything or even hinted to a secret that she had, there could be dire consequences. He needed a little more sobriety under his belt before he tackled disclosure to her.

"Debbie, I don't really want to talk about it. I will tell you I'm not sick and the cancer is not back," he said, hoping that would placate her for the moment.

"Brian Aiden Kinney, I know there is something going on, but I can see you are not ready to tell me what it is. I'm here whenever you are ready to talk," she said. Turning to the other men, she said, "I know that there is something going on and I know that the three of you know what it is. I am trusting you to tell me if the need arises." She turned her head to look at each man separately and made sure they saw her look of determination.

Brian stood up and walked over to Debbie. "I'm fine," he said as he bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek.

She reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. "Take care of yourself," she said.

Brian walked toward the door. The other men walked close behind him and all four left Debbie's. Brian walked toward his car and Ted caught up to him before he got there.

"Bri…"

"Theodore."

"She's going to ask again. She won't give up until you tell her," Ted said. He watched Blake walk to their car and quietly talk to Emmett.

"I know. I just can't handle her version of love right now. I can see it now. She will envelop me in a huge hug and tell me everything will be okay. Then she'll cry and kiss me and then I'll try to make her feel better. And I just can't do that right now. I need all my energy for me. I can't worry that she will tell all of Liberty Avenue. I can't worry that Lindsay will find out through the gay grape vine that I'm in AA. She knows I drink but she'll take that information and twist it around. She won't let me see Gus. I can't do that Ted."

Ted listened and was a little surprised at Brian's confession. Brian was not one to discuss his thoughts or his feelings. He thought that the AA meetings were the cause of this new development. He was happy for his boss, but knew he had a long way to go.

"I'm here for you, boss," Ted said as he laid his hand on Brian's shoulder and squeezed hard.

Brian nodded his head and opened the car door, getting in and looking at Deb's house. He briefly thought about his words to Ted and was slightly amazed at the truth in them. He realized that all the half thoughts he'd been juggling in his head all day were jelling into solid ideas. He knew he had to tell Debbie and he would have to tell Lindsay. He'd have to tell them, admit he had a problem with alcohol, and admit that he was imperfect. But he wasn't going to do it today and it wouldn't happen tomorrow or maybe even the next day. But some day and some day soon, he would have to have those conversations.

He put the car in gear and drove back to his loft. Entering into the room, he saw the liquor cabinet, its bottles filled with amber liquid that would numb his pain, blot out the day to day concerns and help him drift into oblivion. He walked toward the cabinet, wanting badly to ease his discomfort, but turned toward the living area and the couch instead. Today, in this moment, he was choosing not to drink. He'd made other choices today and he questioned them, but this one, he was certain of. He wasn't going to fill his body with the amber liquid, feel its burn as it traveled down his throat and into his bloodstream. He wouldn't choose oblivion, not today.

TBC