Chapter 56

“He’s blind?” Jimmy asked.

“Yes, but no one says anything. Its sort of a game everyone plays. Diners just have to be careful to guard their glasses when Andrew sets down their plates. That reminds me, Chez Matthew doesn’t have a liquor license. we need to buy a bottle of wine to have with our meal.” He spied two identical frowns. “Uh, beer.” The frowns changed to smiles.

They approached 72nd Street Bagel, Barry telling his men it had the best black and white cookies he’d ever tasted.

“Black and white?” Jimmy asked.

“You’ll see. Sorry, they don’t do blue and red cookies.” But that gave Barry an idea for when they got back to the ranch.

As they stood in line to be served—Jake and Jimmy unable to make up their minds what to order—a guy at the head of the line gave precise instructions on how he wanted his bagel toasted.

“Not too crispy on the edges. I don’t want it burned.”

The server just waited patiently for the guy to finish giving his order. Barry smiled to himself. New Yorkers were very particular about their bagels.

“What’s lox?” Jimmy quietly asked Barry.

“Salted salmon.”

Jake made a face.

It wasn’t Barry’s favorite either.

The choices were bewildering. There were a half-dozen variety of bagels, then a seemingly endless choice of toppings. To help his men out, Barry told them he used to get the everything bagel. He pointed to the board, which explained that they were regular bagels rolled in kosher salt, minced garlic, minced onion, and sesame seeds.

“But you’re on your own with your choice of what you want on it. Everything’s good.”

In the end Barry kept it simple and asked for cream cheese with sun-dried tomatoes. Jimmy said he’d have jalape?o cream cheese, and Jake chose cinnamon raisin cream cheese.

As several people were waiting at the counter, they decided to grab a table to wait while their bagels were toasted.

“No!” Barry smacked Jimmy’s hand as it strayed toward his cookie. “Wait until you’ve eaten your bagel.”

Jimmy made a sad face.

“Drink some of your Snapple.” Barry remembered first having it and wanting to call it scrapple, which was something completely different.

Their order was called and Jake went up to collect it.

After several appreciative noises from the cowboys, Barry said, “Don’t ask me to make them at home. I can’t make bagels anything like as well as they do here.” Barry imagined you had to be both Jewish and a New Yorker to get just the right amount of chewiness.

“Can we get this cream cheese at the store back home?” Jake asked, wiping a smear of it from the corner of Jimmy’s mouth before licking his finger clean.

Barry doubted it, but said he could probably add the additional flavors himself. That seemed to satisfy the men, who quickly polished off the rest of their lunch.

“Want a stroll around the park?” Barry asked after downing the last of his Snapple.

“I thought we were going for a carriage ride?” Jimmy asked.

“Sure, we can do that.”

Again Jake kidded Jimmy about being a romantic, but Barry could tell his red cowboy was just as eager to do it.

It was a chilly January afternoon, but at least it was dry. The carriage driver spread a rug over their knees before they set out. The guy was pretty talkative, giving them a history of the park as well as explaining some of the sights they passed. Barry was just happy to snuggle between his men, their arms resting behind his back.

* * * *

“There’s no menu,” Barry explained as the three men walked along West 34th Street, holding hands. “You have whatever Matthew’s cooking that day.”

“What if you don’t like what he’s cooking?” Jake asked.

“Most people ask what’s being served when they book, so if they don’t like it, they don’t book.” Before his men could ask, Barry told them they’d be eating chicken fried steak.

“Cool,” Jimmy said.

“Any idea who we’ll be sharing our table with?” Jake asked.

Barry shook his head.

“Didn’t think there were many threesomes around,” Jimmy said.

“Don’t worry,” Barry squeezed Jimmy’s hand. “There’s no threesome like our threesome.”

Jimmy and Jake pulled Barry into a hug, right there on the street. This was Manhattan—people just walked around them, going about their own business.

* * * *

“Good to see you again,” Barry said, pulling Andrew into a hug.

“It’s been too long,” Andrew gently scolded.

“I know. I live in Colorado now, where I’m kept busy cooking for my two amazing cowboys. Please meet Jake Pierce.”

Jake held out his hand, and Barry nudged him to remind him he needed to grasp Andrew’s hand.