They spent the weekend together, two boyfriends up to nothing in particular. Saturday morning coffee with Monica was more awkward than it needed to be, considering that Danny had had coffee with Monica no fewer than a million times in the seven years they’d worked together. He surmised that the concept of Danny and Ashok as boyfriends was less challenging to her when she wasn’t faced with an unshowered Danny in her breakfast nook practically dripping with afterglow. There was a difference, he supposed, between coming to terms with your son’s s****l orientation and watching his latest s****l conquest eat all your donuts on a Saturday morning. There were few safe subjects between her and Ashok—everything set one or the other of them off, which Danny’s presence seemed to exacerbate—and work t
