CHAPTER FIVE - HAPPINESS AND FAMILIES
PHILADELPHIA - MARCH 2013
“You’re right, I have been passionate about my writing I just forgot about it.” 
“So what are we going to do about it?”
The response shocked Alton. “I’m not going to talk about this now. We’re going to talk about you. We’ve been putting this
conversation off for weeks now.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alton lied. Of course he knew. He just never had the guts, strength or courage to admit it to
his boyfriend.
“Come on, you’re bringing in a new guy to your restaurant. Nick wanted you to personally groom him. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist
to know what’s going on here.”
Alton decided to play dumb a little longer. “Nick wants me to groom someone because as the owner he doesn’t have to time to
nurture someone from scratch.”
Ron shook his head, “Al, you really aren’t good at this. Firstly, when Nick hired you he not only made sure you knew what you were
doing he mentored you for the first few months, and secondly, the obvious question, if Nick is looking for a new person to step up why
isn’t he grooming you for that position?”
Alton knew he was beat, however Ron wasn’t right about a few details. “You are aware the position Trevor is being placed in is the
assistant management position, not my role?”
Ron shot back faster, as if anticipating the response, “You didn’t need an assistant manager before, why would you need one now? Al,
level with me.” Ron then did something that always worked on Al; the puppy dog eyes.
“That’s not going to work this time. I’d like to know how we turned this on me and away from your work situation,” Ron just stared, the
puppy eyes were winning.  After a full minute Alton relented and spoke.  “Okay, the truth… for the last year and a bit I’ve not been
happy with my job, I really don’t know why. Nothing paramount has changed, the customers and the staff are as chipper and nice and
as always and it isn’t painful to go to work and put on a fake smile, but little by little my mind and heart stopped being in the position.
One day one of our regulars called me over to his table and actually asked if I was okay. “
Ronnie listened. He was so wrapped up with his own professional worries to even sense this was happening.  How could a regular
customer see him like that and he couldn’t? “Go on.”
“Well, I told him I was fine, that it was just one of those days. He smiled and told me he understood. Some time passed and I asked
Nick if we could fire an assistant to take some of my load. You see, Nick suspected I took on too much to begin with and agreed. Then
we found Trevor with understanding between me and Nick that in time he would be my replacement.”
“I don’t understand any of this!”  Ron yelled. It was a good thing the bar wasn’t as busy as it was most nights or that scream would have
given them unwanted attention. “How can you not tell me about this? How can you not tell me you want to quit your job? For one
thing that would cause problems at home with out finances, but more importantly, we have no secrets, in the five years…“
“Six years,” Alton corrected.
“Don’t correct me when I’m angry and you. If this was going on for more than a year how come you kept it from me?”
“Because I didn’t want to fucking worry you, okay?”
“It’s my job to worry about the people I love.”
“Fuck, Ron… you were in your own little world becoming the next big marketing chief that you couldn’t see me.”
“That’s bullshit!” Ron fired back. “I see you every day.”
“Then how come you didn’t notice I was unhappy? You were so wrapped up you own stupid world…”
Ron wanted to say something, to think of one counterargument, but he couldn’t. The silence spoke volumes and in that span of time
Alton Fenton left his lover and drove home. Ron didn’t know what to do but he knew Alton was right.
Later, he entered their apartment with his hands full. On the couch in his boxers with his shirt open staring at the television screen was
Alton. Noticing his entrance, he asked, “Are those for me?”
Ron held out the chocolates, one in each hand. They were both Alton’s favourites. That did it. Alton instantly melted.  “Love, I am so
sorry. This is all my fault. I should have registered your mood more. We live together.”
“Nah, I shouldn’t have blown up at you. The moment I got home I felt bad for leaving you there and for what I said. I knew you were
concerned about your own issues too. ”
“Oh good,” Ron said, putting a smile on his face, “Then gimme back the chocolates.”
Alton already took the package and was opening them. Alton laughed, “No way, get your own.” Ron sat on the couch and gave Alton his
kiss. Alton knew it was his make up kiss. “We were both wrapped up in our own problem that we couldn’t see past them.  We should
have talked about this before.”
“Well let’s talk now.” Ron suggested. “Why aren’t you happy with your position at the restaurant?”
“I don’t know. That’s the thing. It started almost a year ago, just when we got back from our anniversary vacation.”
“Well, think back. What did we do?”
“We went to New York and stayed at that fantastic hotel that had the most amazing food and then we saw some brilliant shows. We
dined at the most fabulous restaurants.”  The way Alton spoke brought so much brightness into his face, “We spent New Years Eve on
the roof of the hotel. We used one of my connections to get that access. Watching the ball drop, taking in the sights and smells, it was
amazing.”
“Yeah, it cost us a fortune if I recall. The sex that night was something I remember too.” Ron stopped to remember the passion Alton
had that night, four times in a row.  He looked at Alton, “Then we came back here. What happened?”
“I don’t know, I thought about our trip a lot.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t shut up about the food this, the food that, and the people at the hotel being so nice and so great. You loved the
experience of New York.”
It hit him like a ton of bricks. “Since then I compared that experience to our home life and living in ‘Philly’ can’t compare. We don’t
even live in the big city, we live in the sticks. The restaurant being Philly’s Best Pizza… it may be the best, but it doesn’t compare New
York food. I keep staring at the dishes night after night and it’s boring. They taste good and all but I want more. The sad thing is with our
finances we can’t afford New York quality fare. And then the entertainment here is not exactly the best.
Ron let him go on talking about how New York was so much better than their city. Being a born and raised Philadelphian it was hard not
to disagree. They had Philly Cheesesteak, not to mention some of the best beer and some great sights to see. That being said, he had
to agree on something. “Honey, that’s why New York City is destination spot, they have great things, but so does Philly.”
Alton didn’t listen, he just stated: “I know what we should do.”

MONTREAL - OCTOBER 2012
Josh had been spending the five hours in the car thinking of nothing other than his grandfather’s past. He wanted to know more about
his early life. Why did he leave New York? If he had such a great life there why would he leave it? The answer was standing right in
front of him but his mind couldn’t see it. His mother mentioned when he left, but even she wasn’t aware of his true reasons for
leaving. He and his two sisters spent the drive thinking of more creative reasons to abandon that lifestyle.
That night he and his sisters couldn’t sleep. Rebecca and he just shared some milk in kitchen, thinking about his their grandfather. It
was almost midnight when it hit him.
“I can’t believe it,” Josh stated, a tear in his eye. “Zaidy is really gone.”
Rebecca put an arm around him, “Yep, and regardless of what mysterious life he led, two things are important now. One, he loved you,
me and your sister a lot.”
That put a small smile on his face, “What’s the other sis?”
“We loved him just as much, and he will be missed.” 
With that statement Rebecca cried. Being the good brother Josh rapped an arm around her and walked her to the bedroom where she
would spend the night. “Becky, I love you too.”
“Back at you little bro.” 
The next morning was the day of the funeral and Josh was waiting with his family inside as the limousines were coming down the block
to take the immediate family to the synagogue. Becky and Helena were holding hands while his Mom was comforting his Dad who was
unusually quiet thus far. Josh’s father, mother, grandmother and sisters entered one limousine with him, while Zaidy’s brother and
family got in the second limo.
During the drive nobody spoke. It was an eerie silence. On a good day Josh’s family were loud and were always trying to discuss
something or argue about something. When they didn’t win the argument they just responded by saying the same thing louder. Never
was there silence for long periods of time. It was something that was unheard of in the Turner family. Josh’s bubby, Yvette, normally
the most talkative in family, was sitting quietly in black slacks and leather coat, thinking of better times.
Josh did the only thing that he could think of. He placed his arms around her and held her. She appreciated the gesture. His mom and
sisters were looking out the window while Becky smiled at him slightly, as if giving him her approval for the action.
As the limo pulled up his dad stopped me. “Son, I need a favour from you.”
“Yeah?” noting by the tone that it was a serious suggestion. “I need you to look after Bubby. Stay with her the entire time. She’ll need
her only grandson by her side.”
“Of course,” Josh replied. With that his dad move to walk on but Josh grabbed him by the arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he paused, “Thank you, son.”
They were greeted by the staff and ushered into the room for the viewing. Josh and his father donned a kippah, the traditional
religious headgear. The women wore a kind of a doily clipped to their hair. There was a traditional name for it but Josh couldn’t recall
it. As they all entered the room the chatter picked up, but mostly it was basic normal chitchat. The two staff members came in with
scissors. They gathered the immediate family and the cutting of ties began. First was Josh’s grandfather’s brother, followed by his
father. It was symbolic. Something about rending or tearing ones clothes at the knowledge of the passing, although the funeral
director normally supplied ties so the family wouldn’t use there own, the family thought their own needed to be cut. Josh also asked
for the traditional cutting, even though it was reserved for the children and siblings of the deceased.
The lead staffer then asked Bubby if she would like the see the body. Josh had never seen a dead body before and from his knowledge
neither had his sisters. She nodded and Josh moved with her, holding her as they moved toward the casket at the far end of the room.
The staffer nodded to the other people and the casket was opened at the top. Josh stared at his Connor Turner, his grandfather, his
Zaidy’s lifeless body.
It was a sight he would never forget. It was said that when a person dies something, be it a soul or essences of life forces, leaves the
body. That is what Josh saw, a shell of the man he loved. He felt like he was staring at a wax figure of his grandfather. Bubby said
something, “That’s not him.”
The statement threw Josh off, but then he realized what she meant was that the man she loved was gone. His dad then motioned with
his hand to close it up again. Josh was relieved that Jewish customs forbid the casket to be open.
What next occurred could be conservatively described as organized chaos. Slews of people entered the door, most of them family,
cousins, uncles and aunts, along with other relatives, friends and neighbours. At most there was a room of ninety people. It was hard
for Josh to keep track of his grandmother as he continued to talk to friends. At some point the funeral director shushed everyone and
asked if only family and immediately family remained. That brought some laughter to the room.
Bubby was talking to dear friends and Josh kept her in sight as another two people caught his attention. Two guys in black suits were
holding hands. They both looked unhappy and kept to themselves. He knew he had seen them before, however, seeing his Zaidy kept
his brain too busy to acknowledge them.
“Ladies and gentlemen the service will begin shortly, kindly make your way inside.”

****
TORONTO - ONE MONTH LATER, LATE NOVEMBER, 2012
Michael was sitting in the car on the way to Pat’s cousin’s wedding. He really wasn’t in the mood to go though. He still couldn’t get the
last few days out of his mind. They had gone down to New York City on a whim to check on his uncle’s building that belonged to him
now. They were just about to go down to the bottom floor when a man they didn’t know was staring back at them.
“Hello,” the man said, “Can I help you?”
Patrick, a little defensively, said, “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“The name’s Joe Renard”, the old man said. The guy had to be in his late fifties. “As for what I’m doing here, I live here. This place
became vacated nearly six months ago and I took up residence.”
“Oh,” Patrick understandably said, “You’re a squatter?”
“No, I’m living within my means. You see when this place closed down I was out of a job, so I stayed.”
“I see, well,” Mike responded, “this place was left to us by our uncle.”
“Oh my god, you’re Connor’s nephew? I heard so much about you.”
The rest of time the guys got acquainted with Joe, learning what had happened. Connor had left sometime in the early 1990s for some
reason and had rented the building to a friend of his. Although the friend turned it to a hotel and it was successful for a while it
eventually dried up and the owner didn’t care anymore, so, not being able to pay the bills, it was closed down.
“You okay?” Pat asked his husband as they pulled into the reception hall for the wedding. 
“Just thinking about the Orpheus,” he smiled.
“Don’t worry. We don’t have to talk about it tonight. We have plenty of time to make a decision.
Mike was happy with Pat’s response. After they left Joe and had a quick bite for dinner Pat had been coming up with idea after idea
about opening up the Orpheus again, Mike just needed to time to figure out what to do. On the plane ride home he decided to make
the decision later on and Pat respected him for his decision.
They both entered the reception hall and listened to the service, well, what could be called a service with the person officiating
making jokes in different languages to accommodate the happy couple who were of mixed ethnicities.
After the ceremony came the waiting for the reception. The guests were escorted into the hall for hors d’oeuvres where Pat
unceremoniously took camp right outside the doors as the waiter came out so he could bring Michael the good stuff. Michael noticed
Josh in the corner playing with his tablet. They met officially for the first time a month ago at the burying of his uncle. He thought
maybe later he might talk to him again. His parents were at the bar drinking a little too much.
Eventually the guests were invited in for the appetizers which were in the form of a buffet. Following that the loud band began to play
as the married couple and bridal party entered the reception area to cheers and applause.
Soon after, everyone sat down to listen to the usual boring speeches, which unfortunately were bilingual in this case. After that the
dancing began to start and Michael completely embarrassed Patrick with his horrible moves. Although he was great slow dancer
Michael was a complete mess otherwise.
A slow dance finally occurred and they grabbed each other and moved to the beautiful music. It was then that Michael broke the
comfortable silence, “Pat, we need to do this.”
“Do what?” Patrick had forgotten all about the Orpheus.
“Open it up again. It will be a lot of work, but it would be a good plan for retirement.” 
Clearly Pat was taken aback by the sudden change, however seeing as it was his idea originally it made sense. “Yeah, and it would
honour Connor that it’s being taken care of by someone he loves and trusts.”
“He didn’t trust me enough to tell me about it in the first place.”
Pat rolled his eyes, “This will be a lot of work, though. Do we think we can run a hotel?”
“No, but we can own an apartment complex. I was thinking, if we can get it open the next six or seven months, we can be right in time
for the school year and can offer it to students.”
“You got a point there. What about the basement occupant? Joe’s ‘apartment’ leaves a lot to be desired.”
Joe’s apartment for lack of better term was disgusting. It smelled. There was a long hallway with many doors that had odd signs on the
frames. Joe explained that the doors were for his private parties he had when the place was fine hotel. There were some good pieces
there though.
“I have a few ideas about what to do for Joe and his apartment. My question is where are we going to get the money.”
They realized people were staring at them now. It dawned on Pat first that the music had ended. Slightly embarrassed, they took their
seats to continue their conversation as the reception line was beginning.
Pat turned back the question at hand, “Money won’t be a problem, you’re talking to a retired contractor.”
Mike laughed out loud at that, “Oh please, you don’t even know how to use a hammer correctly, honey. Last time you nearly broke
your thumb. Besides, there’s always Brook and his boys. They are excellent at what they do.”
“Are we really doing this?”
“Yeah,” I think we are.”  They eyed Josh Turner in the corner with his tablet. “Come on I got an idea.”

***
NEW YORK CITY - 1991, twenty two years ago
Connor was reading the morning news in his penthouse apartment at the Orpheus. It had been about twenty-five years since he had
taken full ownership from Eric Sampson. Eric had trusted him to be a simple elevator operator in 1949 and after his former friend, Bill,
had accidentally burned down the Orpheus, Eric trusted him even more and groomed him to become the manager. Rick, Eric’s nephew
didn’t like Connor at first, but over the years they had come trust each other. Rick even insisted he move into the lower apartments in
the basement, where Eric took up residence. Eric had moved to a smaller room to accommodate his aging body, which was now in its
80s. 
Eric died suddenly in 1981 and it had saddened both Rick and Connor. The funeral was nothing like he had ever experienced, it was
written that Eric wanted a simple no frills dinner with only his immediate family and residents of his Orpheus in his former basement
apartment, where Rick currently lived. He also requested that Felix’s bakery provide the food, however, Felix did more than that.
He and Eric had grown up together since they were four years old. Felix took the honour of speaking at the simple dinner. He told some
funny stories of Eric as a teenage boy and how he accidentally got stabbed in the eye at the most inappropriate moment. Then he went
on to explain Eric’s love of the hospitality business and how he loved his home, the Orpheus. When it became successful Eric helped
Felix open the bakery. Connor listened to every word Felix said about his boss and mentor. Rick only spoke briefly after that about his
uncle and then Connor explained the story of how he grew to love Eric as a boss and a friend.
Connor went home that night to his penthouse apartment with Yvette and she held him. She knew how much love there was between
him and Connor. That night they made love and it was one of the best moments of Connor’s life. It was also the last time his life would
be anything but normal.
Two days later Rick appeared at his door talking about a letter from Eric that was delivered to him weeks before he had died. It was
addressed to Rick but was for both of them. Rick had read it privately and hated his uncle for its contents, but he knew it was the right
choice.
“Eric wants you to have this.” Rick said without preamble. Yvette, interested, came to stand by her husband.
She had to pull him back from wherever his mind was now, as he was clearly stunned. “What is it dear?”
He just handed his wife the letter,
Rick and Connor,
If you are reading this then you know that I am no longer of this world. Although I feared my death was coming, I hope it was quick one.
I wanted to tell you both that I loved you as sons. I was never able to have children of my own but the two of you made me very proud.
Rick, I am sorry your parents left you when you were young. But when they left you with me to raise it was best moment of my life and I
know you would agree. The love and support you gave me throughout the years in building the Orpheus, I thank you. Although you built
this from the ground up with me the Orpheus needs someone else to run it. We both know deep down that you never wanted those
reigns. You were my right hand man, but you never needed to spotlight, thank you, son.
Connor, my dearest friend and fellow confidant: You have grown up to become a great man and an excellent manager. The day you
arrived at Felix’s I knew there was something special about you. I was right. The moment The Orpheus burned down you took your
rightful place at my side, helping me build it up again. You have been a positive outlet with Rick and have shown charm, wit and kindness
to all our residents. There is nothing more I can say to you, that you don’t already know. Yvette was lucky enough to have you and that
son you raised he will make you proud.
It is my wish that you take the necessary step that the Orpheus requires of you, something I need you to do. Take ownership of The
Orpheus and help it grow. You are the right person for the job. Enclosed is the appropriate paper work and the phone number of my
lawyer who will make it official.
I love you both, thank you for making me proud.
Eric Sampson, your uncle and your friend.
Yvette and Connor were stunned by the message even more than Rick was. Rick was surprised that his uncle expressed himself with so
much emotion. He had never seen him like this.
“We cannot accept this,” Connor stated matter-of-factly. “Rick, this belongs in the family. As much as I cared for Eric he is your flesh and
blood.”
Rick grabbed Eric on the shoulder, “Listen, you need to do this. He groomed you to take this position, and for fuck’s sake to him and to
me you are family. You deserve the Orpheus. Now make him fucking proud.”
“What about you?” Connor asked, conscious of the swearing Rick had just said.
“I’m leaving.” He announced like he was forecasting the weather.
Yvette grabbed him, “Why?”
“This was my home when my uncle lived here. Now all that remains are the memories, the life force. I can’t stay here, it would be too
sad.”
Connor understood, “Where are you going to go?”
Rick had thought about only two things in last several months, his uncle’s health and his parent’s present location.  He responded
silently, “to find my parents.”
“Honey,” Connor was brought out his daydream and looked at his wife. He didn’t know why his mind drifted to that moment when Rick
left. His wife stood there in just a bathrobe and she looked just as beautiful as the day he met her.
“Hmm,” he acknowledged. She waved him over, “It’s your son.”
He got up and took the receiver, “Steve? Are you and Theresa alright?”
“Yeah,” he said happily, “I have some news! You’re going to be a grandfather again!”
That nearly knocked him over. This was the third child in three years. The receiver kept talking, “And Dad, it’s a boy. A beautiful boy.”
“Theresa had him already? That was fast.”
“No, we learned the sex today. We’ve been debating about whether we wanted to know for a while and then the doc accidentally let it
slip. Theresa will be expecting in July.” 

It was July and Yvette and Connor were in the waiting room. He and Yvette had been there before since it was where both Rebecca and
Helena were born. Yvette turned to him and said, “I think it’s time to leave the Orpheus. I want to be closer to our family.”
Connor had been thinking about that for awhile now, ever since he heard the news that he was going to be a grandfather for the first
time. Yvette loved New York but she had grown steadily unhappy there, being away from her friends and cousins in Montreal.  After
Helena was born Yvette and him had a horrible argument about moving.
“Honey, you know my reasoning behind not leaving.”
“Con, your grandson is about to be born, that must mean something to you.”
“More to me than you possibly know.” Connor admitted. He loved Rebecca and Helena, a lot, but he was always hoping to have a
grandson. He could take over the Orpheus when he reached a certain age. Steve never liked the Orpheus and abandoned him and his
mother as soon as he located a girl, moving to Toronto. Supposedly because, according to his son, there was more work available.
Steve managed to secure a lawyer position quite easily, although it required him to take the bar again and learn Canadian law. But a
competitive law firm sought him out because of his experience in American law, as they had some American clients.
“Eric will understand. Look at me, Connor. Tell me you don’t miss being around your family. Tell me you don’t like having Little Rebecca
and Helena by your side.”  Both girls were with them, being looked after by Theresa’s parents.
“He gave me the Orpheus, his baby. I can’t just throw it to the wolves.”
Before Yvette could respond they heard a scream of delight coming from the room where Steve and Theresa were delivering. Minutes
later, Steve asked his parents and parent’s in law into the delivery room.  Connor looked at his grandson and smiled.
“What’s his name?” Connor asked quietly to his son.
“Joshua Albert Turner.” Theresa smiled back at Connor. Theresa’s mom brought Rebecca and Helena closer to his their baby brother.
Helena looked hesitant, but Rebecca, already three years old, grabbed Josh’s little hand and smiled. “Hello, Josh.”
That did it. Connor asked the question and Theresa and Steve could not deny the request. Although he was barely an hour old Connor
held his grandson in his arms. He reminded of his son growing up in the Orpheus, being there when he fell, when he was happy, and
seeing through life unharmed. “Joshua, welcome to this beautiful world. I am your Zaidy.”
After a few minutes the nurse came and took the child for some tests. Yvette and Connor waited outside while Theresa and Steve took
a moment with their daughters. “I made a decision.”
When he told Yvette, she kissed him. Five minutes later Glenn arrived huffing with his son and some guy Connor had never met. “We
came as soon as we heard from Steve. It was hard getting a flight.”
“You missed it, Theresa gave birth just now. The nurse is taking them for tests.” He said hugging Glenn.
“You must be proud,” Michael, Glenn’s son smiled offering a hand.  “Yes, I am. Turning to Glenn, he named him after our father.”
Glenn smiled, although he and Connor didn’t get on that much. “They were there for each other when needed. They chatted about old
times. Connor, however, kept looking at Michael and the gentleman, who barely spoke.
“Michael, let’s not be rude.” Glenn stated sensing Connor’s stare.
“Uncle…uh, this is Patrick….my boyfriend,” Michael stated.  Connor wasn’t aware his nephew was gay, but that was okay, he had
experimented discreetly in his youth. He stuck out his hand and spoke directly to Patrick. “Welcome to the family, son.”
“Thank you. Mr. Turner.”
“Please, Connor.”  At last, Patrick joined the conversation and they all saw little Josh again and each passed the child along, giving each
person a chance to hold him. Connor was the last to get him. He whispered in Josh’s ear, “I cannot wait to get to know you more.”
As he departed he turned to Glenn, “Do you still have that friend at Customs?”
Glenn worked for US Customs bureau, “Yeah, why?”
“How hard would it be to move to Canada?”

***
DALLAS - 2013
The Traveller was walking alone on the street in this Texas City. He had always wanted to visit Dallas. Now he was there. He needed to
escape the bad dreams he had been having and moving down south had helped slightly. Tommy and he had parted ways after their
encounter a few months ago. At first he allowed the youngster to stay with him on his travels.
It was helpful because it allowed them to get better acquainted after five years of being apart. Tommy and he wanted back into their
ways. The Traveller missed his brother so much during their time apart, leaving him was the only thing that stopped him from going in
the first place.
However, in the ensuing months, Tommy understood the reason he left and why he needed to find himself. Tommy had told him that
there were days when he wished he could venture out into the great unknown.   It was two months later that The Traveller and his
brother parted ways. The Traveller knew he needed to continue on the solitary path, and Tommy knew that too. They hugged for a long
time on the day they left each other. Tommy made one request.
“Send me a postcard or a letter every month. So I know you’re safe and okay.”
“You got it little bro.”  Tom smiled as he got into his car and drove off. That night the dreams began, each one of them of him or his
brother or his father. They were all bad remembrances of his past at home or happy memories of him and his brother.
Now in Dallas he entered a small restaurant for a morning coffee and sat in the corner. He took out the pen and began writing to his
brother. He wanted to mention the dreams, but he never had the heart. He told his brother about his travels in Nebraska and
Oklahoma, seeing a tornado first hand. He told him about a couple who were about to get married that he met on a bus to Texas. He
was about to explain his thoughts of Dallas and the big college community it had. They were crazy about their football and he never
understood.
However, he couldn’t get a sentence down because of the conversation that was taking place behind the counter. He thought it was
just typical conversation between what he assumed was a father and son, but the voices were raised. The Traveller was reminded of
the two brothers who owned the restaurant in California.
“Son, I don’t give a shit what party you have to go to. You need to stay tonight.”
“No, I don’t you asshole. This is your fucking business not mine.” 
“Don’t you dare raise your voice like that to me you ungrateful child.”
He raised his hand in a motion that the Traveller knew well. Before the hand made contact The Traveller was next to the father. He
asked, “Are you guys alright?”
The both stared at him, “We’re fine.”  The look on the son’s face said different so the Traveller sat down on the stole next to them. He
smiled, “Let’s talk about.”
“No offence, sir, this is kind of family thing.”
“No offence taken. But you were about to slap this young boy.”
The traveller thought about it and calmly stated, “I think if we talked about this maybe we could make sure nothing violent occurs.
Besides, I’m quite familiar with father-son relationships.
TO BE CONTINUED...
I hope you are enjoying Andy's story. 
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