Oh, The Places You'll Go

Takes One to Know One

"So, you're fucking your co-anchor, right?" says Eric and Casey splutters into his beer. So much for cross-border co-operation. Where was all the hockey talk?

"What?" he starts, but Eric cuts him off.

"It's okay. I'm-" he takes in a deep breath. "I'm gay, too. I have a partner, Sam. We have a son, Scot. One T. He's also gay." He waves his hand in the air. "We think. It's not our fault."

Casey thinks probably he should close his mouth now. "That's, um- It's obvious, huh?"

"We smell our own."

Ewww, thinks Casey, then smiles. "His name is Dan."


"They used to call me Erica," says Eric.

"Cassandra," says Casey.

Eric sits up, or tries to. "You played hockey?"


Eric laughs. "No wonder then, Cassie." His face softens. "These days it's Mr. Latour," he says.

Casey frowns. "But you're McNally."

"Yeah," Eric smiles, wide and open. "It's Scot's name. Three surnames, one family, you give up correcting."

And just like that, Casey misses Charlie and Dan with a fierce, burning pain. He fumbles for his cell. "I gotta-" He slides off the stool.

"U-huh." Eric flaps a hand at him. "Go. I'm not moving."

Casey heads outside, already dialing.

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