There were a few advantages to living in an older building. A huge cast iron bathtub was one of them. Water poured into the tub and Tristan sat on the toilet lid as Brian dug around in the cupboard. Brian thought he had a big box of Epsom salts in there somewhere, legacy of a pick-up hockey game a couple months ago that had left him incredibly sore. Tristan’s trudge to the bathroom had been an unsteady shuffle guided by Brian. The last thing Brian wanted was for Tristan to stumble and bang into something again like the events of last night.
“You planning on boiling me?” groused Tristan.
Brian glanced at the steam coming up from the water. “Yep, I thought you’d do a really good imitation of a lobster. Black and blue now, red when you’re done.” Aha, the box. He pulled out the quart sized b
