He tilted his head back against the chair and stared at the ceiling. What did he mean by “It’s fine” anyway? How could it be fine? He got up and limped to the cupboard and took out a bottle of brandy, founda glass, and poured himself a generous amount, and put the bottle back next to the brown paper package there. The package that he had drawn up for Christy. Ridiculous, really, a man of his age mooning over a handsome young man, because that was what he had been doing however hard it was to admit. Mooning.