Page 61 of Men in Shorts

John often felt like Scotland’s only optimist. “Sometimes things stay good if two people are meant to be together, if they work at it, if they don’t let anything keep them apart.”

Robert’s eyes turned sadder still. “Sometimes apart is better.” He set the rubber ducky in the tub and walked on, leaving it flashing in his wake, unsold but unforgotten.

* * *

“Why do you need a softer headboard?”Liam asked Fergus as they browsed a fabric dealer’s stall. “Is this part of some new concussion protocol, like we’ve got in football?”

Fergus smiled at the image of being taken away in a stretcher after particularly rambunctious sex. “We need a softer headboard because John sometimes sits up in bed working or studying.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Byproduct of living in a small flat.” Fergus ran his hand over a pair of faux-suede samples, searching for the perfect texture. “Sometimes bed is the only quiet place to be.”

“In that case I take back what I said about your sparky sex life.” Liam peered at him, telescope-like, through a roll of scarlet muslin. “Can’t he just study in the living room?”

“The TV is in there. Even with it off, it’s a distraction, he says, which I totally get. Plus he says he wants to be near me, especially now it’s so cold at night.”

“That it is. Oh!” Liam dumped the muslin into the bin of fabric rolls. “I’ve got it. Instead of a padded headboard—which will make you look eighty years old—why not make up a spot in your bedroom for him to work in? Put up something he can hide behind.”

“A room divider.” Fergus shoved the samples back into place. “That’s brilliant. Come on.”

As they hurried toward his favorite used furniture dealer at the other end of the indoor market, Fergus started thinking aloud. “I could get a dressing screen, and maybe one of those old school desks, the sort with the chair built in and the wee shelf beneath?” His mood soared as his artist’s brain began firing on all cylinders. “A surface like that’d be just enough room for a laptop.”

As they passed a nervous-looking tobacconist, Liam slowed down and took a deep inhale. “Och, that smells amazing.”

Fergus noticed the dreamy smile on his friend’s face. “It doesn’t bother you, now you’ve quit?”

“Nope. Is that weird? People tell me it’s—oh my God!” Liam stopped in his tracks in front of a toy seller. “Rabbie used to love these.” He darted over to a small tub filled with floating rubber duckies. Two of them were blinking lights of every color.

Fergus was confused for a moment. Liam had so many younger siblings, it was hard to keep track of their names. “Our Rabbie? As in McKenzie?”

“MyRabbie,” Liam said with a growl. “You know he hates anyone else calling him that.” He reached out for the yellow flashing duck.

Just then, Fergus was knocked from behind. He stumbled forward, barely regaining his balance before hitting the shelf of jigsaw puzzles, then quickly felt for his wallet to ensure he’d not been pickpocketed.

“Sorry, mate!” said the tobacco seller who’d just bumped into him. Fergus turned to see the man grab the corners of the canvas sheet to gather up his products. With a practiced twist, he formed a large bundle with his wares and cash box inside. Then he spun on his heel and sprinted off, dodging passersby with the grace and speed of a man half his age.

A large group of police officers barreled past Fergus, one shouting into his radio. Mouth agape, he watched them go, then turned back to Liam, who’d barely spared a glance for the fracas. The toy seller also ignored the commotion, frowning at the rosy-pink baby hat she was knitting.

Fergus sighed, wondering how anything in Glasgow could still surprise him.

“Did you fuck up John’s twenty-first birthday?” Liam asked him.

“Sorry?”

Liam picked up one of the flashing ducks. “It was a couple weeks ago, aye?”

“It was, but why do?—”

“You’re so keen to do nice things for him today. The new headboard, a room divider so he can study—it’s a lot, even for a nice guy in love such as yourself.”

Was that what this was all about? Was Fergus trying to make up for being a coward? “The thing is…” He stepped closer, then glanced around to ensure no one could hear. “John wants to stop using condoms.”

“And?”

“I’m not ready.”

Liam looked up from the duck. “Not ready for what? Better sex?”

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