"But I mean, well..."I began trying to drag his tee shirt up. "Yeah, stripping in public is kinda hard, I know. But, in the end it's no different than...yesterday. Hey, look at me, I'm naked again. Concentrate on me. Give me a little help here, though."He's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, so it took a minute for him to catch on and raise his arms so I could drag the shirt off over his head, his shaggy locks fluttering around his face in a blizzard of dandruff. I held the shirt out blindly,. Self-hug. All I’ve gotten since I stopped getting ‘you poor thing’ hugs after Keith died. Until this weekend.Brad stood up and turned. Yes, I wanted this. I could DO this. That’s half of us. We have the rest of the week for him to figure it out.“Where’re you going?” I asked him as he stepped past me.“Bathroom. Wash my hands. Et cetera.”I could hear it. The washing of hands, the vigorous splash of ‘et cetera’, the whoosh of the toilet, and he was back.“Got room for me on that thing?”“You get. More

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