Lee smiles again, shrugging softly. "If it wasn't here it would have been Minneapolis, or the next city," he says. "When I found out I was stage four and the only question was when and not if, I started to eliminate my connections. To things, to places, to people." He takes deep breath. "Home isn't really home anymore. I miss my bar and there are a couple people I'd see if I were there, but I don't feel like anything's been taken from me by being here."

Lee feels uncomfortable in a way he usually doesn't, unsure what to do with his hands or where to look. He feels tired and a little shaky and most of that is the chemo, but some of it is guilt. He's spent years getting over that, feeling bad for upsetting other people with his cancer, but Eric reminds him of his little brother and Lee cares about him, feels protective. He hates that he has to introduce this sort of sorrow into Eric's life.

"Life is far from fair," he says after a moment of silence. "But we can't do much about the hand we're dealt. I'm dying, that's a fact. But I don't have to let it completely ruin the time I have left."