Charity. How very like the rich to enjoy a good tax write-off. Joe couldn't do much arguing, though, and frankly spent too much time refreshing Quinn-family-and-adjacent Instagram feeds and stories for a glimpse of his son. And the life he was still entitled to, but he still found value in the working grind.

"Kendall Roy," he explains. "They say it's an ensemble show, but he's really the lead. One of those Mad Men type of deals. The whole thing follows a family of expies for the Disney family. My wife got me into it."

No, he binged it while working out to his absolute limits to impress her, but that wouldn't be as sweet of a story, would it. Besides — wife. That word felt wrong, but a ceremony, vows, mean a sealed deal, even without paperwork, right?

If Tim noticed, Joe didn't wear his ring, but a clean bar meant that Joe got to shove his hands into the pockets of his pea coat, plainly uncomfortable. He tilts his head, eyes darting around the store and over the guests. He continues, "This whole place was our — " (her) " — idea, actually. Before she passed."

Joe's eyes flicked down to the floor, then back up, a little gesture that always garnered a little sympathy.