“It’s a long story.”

“Where is she now?”

Myron kept it vague. “Overseas.”

“May I give you some advice on marriage?”

“How about, ‘Don’t believe stupid Internet rumors about paternity’?”

Lex grinned. “Good one.”

Myron said, “Meh.”

“But here’s the advice: Be open with each other. Totally open.”

Myron waited. When Lex didn’t follow up, Myron said, “That’s it?”

“You expected something deeper?”

Myron shrugged. “Kinda.”

“There’s this song I love,” Lex said. “The lyric says, ‘Your heart is like a parachute.’ Do you know why?”

“I think the line is about a mind being like a parachute-it only functions when it’s open.”

“No, I know that line. This one is a better, ‘Your heart is like a parachute-it only opens when you fall.’ ” He smiled. “Good, right?”

“I guess.”

“We all have friends in our lives, like, well, take my mates in here. I love them, I party with them, we talk about weather and sports and hot pieces of ass, but if I didn’t see them for a year-or really, ever again-it wouldn’t make much difference in my life. That’s how it is with most people we know.”

He took another sip. The door behind them opened. A bunch of giggling women entered. Lex shook his head, and they vanished back out the door. “And then,” he went on, “every once in a while, you have a real friend. Like Buzz over there. We talk about everything. We know the truth about each other-every sick, depraved flaw. Do you have friends like that?”

“Esperanza knows I have a shy bladder,” Myron said.

“What?”

“Never mind. Go on. I know what you’re saying.”

“Right, so anyway, real friends. You let them see the sick crap that goes on in your brain. The ugly.” He sat up, getting into it now. “And you know what’s odd about that kind of thing? You know what happens when you’re totally open and let the other person see that you’re a total degenerate?”