the room。 He was the youngest person there by at least forty years？clusters of wizened old men
were gathered at every single oak table； each man gruffer and stonier than the next。 One of them
had an actual eye patch。 The old cyclops squinted in Nate？s direction with his one good eye。
Before Nate could start to muse on what terrible sailing accident had caused him to lose his
eyeball； the white…jacketed waiter returned and placed a glass of scotch in front of him。
？Thank you；？ he mumbled。
？Cheers； my boy。？ Chips lifted his tumbler and then took a huge swig。 Nate quickly followed suit；
gagging on the fiery amber liquid。 The scotch was freaking strong？stronger than anything he？d
ever had？and Chips was drinking it like lemonade。Whowas this guy？
？You？re nothing like what I thought；？ Nate blurted out； turning red and taking another small；
tentative nip。 From everything his dad had told him about Chips； Nate had thought he would be a
total hard…ass who？d give him lecture on getting his shit together the second he sat down。 But so
far Chips couldn？t have beenless like Nate？s father。 He seemed almostmellow。
？Ha！？ Chips laughed； slapping his stiff…looking extended leg。 ？You though you were going to be
meeting Captain White； didn？t you？ Some cantankerous； salt…waterlogged old geezer who would
read you the riot act？ Maybe a hook for an arm？ That it？？ Nate nodded； blushing。 He looked over
at the eye…patch man； hoping he hadn？t heard Chips？s little outburst。 He？d probably be kind of
offended。 Who knew what these old sailor guys were like when they got angry？ ？Well； uh 。 。 。 yeah。
I mean； my dad？s pretty pissed at me right now and everything。 I thought he？d send me to
someone who knew how to 。 。 。 hunt。？ Chips chuckled and drained his glass in one even swallow。
He signaled the waiter for a refill。 The waiter appeared at his side almost instantaneously； picking
up the empty glass and whisking it quietly away。 Nate couldn？t help but notice that for a place
called the Grill Room； they didn？t seem to be serving much of anything grilled？or really anything
to eat； period。 Just booze。
Who？s plaining？
Chips turned back to him and began again。 ？Well； Nate； let me tell you？thatwas me？a long；long
time ago。 Back when I was your dad？s captain； I was the strictest； most serious sonofabitch
you？ve ever laid eyes on。 But it？s been a lot of years since then； and I？ve learned quite a few
things。？ Chips leaned back in his chair； his blue eyes twinkling。 ？There？s a certain kind of clarity
that es with old age。You really learn to put everything into perspective。 Youhave to。？ The
waiter appeared and set a fresh drink down in front of him； ice cubes rattling。 Chips drummed his
fingers on the snow white tablecloth。 His eyes scanned the room； and he lifted a hand and gave a
small wave to an old man in full white military dress who looked about a hundred and fifty years
old。 ？What are your priorities； Nate？ What doyou want from life？？ Nate was silent for a moment
and Chips continued。 ？For me； it？s the open sea？the sun on my face； the sound of waves。？ He
closed his eyes。 ？The simple things。 The good stuff。？ He opened his eyes and raised his glass。 Nate
took another burning gulp。
The simple things sounded good to Nate。 In fact； they soundedright 。 He was so tired of
everything being so 。 。 。 challenging。Why couldn？t things just be easy for a change？
Being the prince of the Upper East Side isso exhausting。 Chips opened the large white menu and
perused it thoughtfully； humming softly to himself。
Nate looked at him over the top of his menu and suddenly wished there were a menu for real
life？one that listed all of his options； and how much they cost。 ？I don？t know what I want；？ he
admitted； his voice echoing in the cavernous room。 The minute he said it aloud； he knew it was
true。 He looked around again at all the old sailors； each and every one a man who？d chosen a path
in life and stuck with it。 One had even lost an eye over what he？d chosen。 Or maybe they were just
a bunch of old seaworthy fuckups。
？I？ll tell you one thing。？ Chips closed his menu and leaned across the table。 ？You？ve got to think
with your balls； not your dick。？ His breath smelled like applesauce laced with grain
alcohol。 ？Because the men who think with their dicks are cowards；？ he finished； leaning back and
nodding sagely。
Nate felt himself nodding back； even though he had no idea what Chips was talking about。 Had
he been thinking with his balls or his dick？ Was he a coward？ Itwas kind of cowardly not to have
told Blair that he hadn？t really graduated； that he wasn？t going to Yale with her。 。 。 。
Chips summoned the waiter again。 ？Two hard…boiled eggs and a shaker of salt；？ he
manded。 ？For both of us。？ Nate surrendered his menu to the waiter。 Chips seemed to think
his ？I don？t know what I want？ was about the food。 Nate hated hard…boiled eggs； and all this talk
of thinking with his dick and balls had kind of taken away his appetite for anything but that strong；
barely drinkable scotch； anyway。
Well； drink up； honey。 It might help you grow some。
v？s tea party for two
Vanessa stepped through the doors of the Galapagos Art Space in Brooklyn and looked around。
The room was cavernous and densely packed with Williamsburg hipsters wearing striped shirts
and sporting asymmetrical haircuts。 Bar…height tables were sprinkled haphazardly throughout the
room like croutons on a salad； and the grating sounds of three…chord punk blasted from the
loudspeakers。 Vanessa spied Ruby？s bandmates fussing with wires and plugs on a platform in the
center of the room。 The drum kit was adorned with the word SUGARDADDY； their band？s name；
in garish red letters。 She scanned the stage for Ruby； but her sister was nowhere in sight。
As Vanessa maneuvered her way to the front of the room； protecting her camera from dirty art
boys and their Jack…and…Cokes； she spotted Piotr sitting at a table right in front of the stage； a full
pitcher of Coke sitting in front of him。 When Piotr saw her； he waved her over。 Vanessa sighed；
wishing she were more excited about filming her sister？s last gig as a single woman。 She needed it
to round out the Ruby
Retrospective she was making for her sister？s wedding present； but the reality of shooting the
shit with her futurebrother…in…law ； whom her sister would bemarrying in just five days； was kind
of unbearable。 Vanessa kept forcing herself to say wedding…related words over and over again in
her head to make it more real。
She got closer to his table and tried to smile。 Droplets of water beaded on the cold pitcher of
Coke。 Vanessa licked her lips。 She was pretty thirsty？maybe she could put up with Piotr for a few
minutes while she loaded her camera and set up。 If he was going to be family soon； she？d have to
learn to converse with him； right？
？What？s up？？ she asked； plunking her camera down on the table and almost knocking over the
Coke。
？？Allo； Vanessa。You made it；？ Piotr said with an awkward； crooked…toothed smile。 ？You want？？
He gestured to the glass on the table。
She took a seat； resisting