“One for sorrow, two for mirth.” Tom raised his flagon of ale at the bar, smiling at his brother.
“Aye, brother. Here’s to mirth.” Chris raised his as well and clumsily pressed the two together. Then they both drained their drinks by half and slammed them down on the counter before them.
Tom leaned over and hugged his elder sibling. I’ve missed you, Chris. You don’t know how boring things are when you’re not around.”
Chris broke from the clinch and patted Tom on both shoulders. “I must admit the same. Life just isn’t as much fun when you’re not with me. Whoa.” The large blond had to grab the edge of the bar to keep from teetering off his stool.
“Had one ale too many, eh, brother?” Tom took another drink, but just a sip.
“Not at all, Tom. The stool must be faulty. Here. Another toast. To family.” He again lifted his flagon.
“Yes, dear brother. Family.” Tapping their containers together, they both took another long swallow. Then setting his drink down, Tom said, “Of course, there isn’t much family left. Our father…”
“Yes, the dear departed. I miss him a great deal.”
“In spite of the lies he told?”