“I’m coming,” Howard yelled in a non-Zen like voice as he made his way down the stairs. “Oh, my God, I hope the kids are okay.”

The thought propelled him faster than he had realized he could move. He had had the carpet ripped up several years ago, and although the wood on the stairs looked great, it was a bit slippery as he rushed down to the foyer. He dashed to the door and pulled it open in a hurry.

Jason stood there with a box of coffee and a paper bag in his hand. He looked Howard up and down, and then nodded his head.

“Tank top and muscle pants, not bad,” Jason said. “Although I preferred it when you slept in the nude.”

Howard looked at him, unsure of what to say. He was not yet caffeinated, and his guard was down. He paused for a second.

“Well, I’m over forty, and ...”

“And you’re not dead yet,” Jason said. “It’s nice to see you still have your morning wood.”

Howard started to cover himself, but instead said, “Well, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. Will you come in please? My morning wood is not something the neighbors are familiar with.”

“Their loss,” Jason said with a wink, stepping into the house and closing the door behind him.

Howard started to reply, but wasn’t sure if Jason had just complimented him. He looked at Jason, trying to read his face, and then finally asked, “Are the kids okay?”

“They’re fine,” Jason said. “I spoke to them both last night, and they’re doing well. They’ll be home this weekend.”

“What? Why?”

“To celebrate with us, of course,” Jason said.

“Celebrate? What is there to celebrate? Jane’s birthday isn’t for two months. She’s supposed to be helping the world until then. Oh, my God. Is Jane pregnant? Did some mission group lothario seduce her? Is one of the kids getting married? They’re too young, Jason.”

“The kids are fine. No one’s getting married, and no one is pregnant, that I know of. They just want to celebrate our divorceary.”

“Our what?”

“Our divorceary,” Jason said. “Today is ten years to the day since we got divorced, not that we were legally married, but to us it was a marriage.”

“And we’re celebrating this?” Howard asked, an indignant tone to his voice.

“Well, one of your complaints about me when we were together was that I forgot our important dates. I remembered,” he said, shaking the paper bag in his hand. “Toasted Everything-But-the-Kitchen-Sink bagels and cream cheese with chives.”

“Well, how good of you to remember, Jason. I would imagine that you would celebrate daily getting rid of the old ball and chain, and that the actual date would just blend in with every other day of freedom you’ve experienced.”

“It wasn’t me that got rid of you,” Jason said. “You are the one that wanted me gone.”

For a moment there was silence. Was Jason right? Yes, in some ways he was, and Howard hated when that happened. He suddenly looked at Jason intensely.

“For very clear reasons,” Howard countered, trying to add conviction to his voice.

“I think they were only clear to you,” Jason began.

Howard started to reply, but Jason lifted a finger and put it across Howard’s lips. “Before we say anything that is going to hurt each other, let’s think about the things that we can be thankful for.”

Howard backed up away from Jason’s finger, and spoke. “So, we’re going to celebrate not being together?”

“No,” Jason explained. “We’re going to celebrate the fact that we have not been together for ten years, and we have managed to not kill each other, or really hurt each other in any major way, and that we have also raised some rather wonderful children.”

Howard hesitated. “I’m not sure what exactly you mean by major way, but you have hurt me, Jason. Maybe not so much in the last ten years, but definitely before it. I will take the time though and celebrate with you the fact that our children have turned out well.”

“Great, because I’ve taken the day off,” Jason said.

Howard looked at him. “Not really your style, is it?”

“Nope, but a chance to spend a day with you doesn’t come across as often as I would like.”