They drove along the interstate in Bill’s vintage cherry red Mustang convertible. Bill’s hand rested on Dan’s thigh as they drove. Dan’s short hair rippled in the wind. He took a deep breath. He was happy.
“I didn’t know you owned a car like this. I’ve never seen it in the parking lot.”
Bill glanced over at him. “She’s ma baby!” he said, smiling a proud smile. “I only use her for very special occasions.” He gave Dan’s leg a squeeze. “I use the van for every day stuff. Remember, I told you I have a son. I don’t have joint custody. The homophobic judge in our divorce case saw to that. But I do have visiting privileges. But by decree of her Royal Highness, Marjory, A.K.A. my ex-wife, this car is too dangerous, and so only a van is acceptable. Since I don’t have much say in the matter, Billy
