Stephen always insisted on having lemons in his cocktails. Since he and Mark came by my house so often, I always made sure to have an emergency “Stephen lemon” in the fridge. Other friends would come by to make a drink for themselves and I would smack their hand away from “Stephen’s” lemon. A couple of weeks ago, I was shopping at HEB and walked in front of a huge stack of lemons when suddenly the memories of Stephen came flooding back to me. I can only imagine what shoppers must have thought to see a guy quietly crying over a stack of citrus. This photo of Stephen laughing was from a strange weekend where a friend of a friend (who I had never met before) came down from Waco and ended up crashing for the weekend with Tim and I. Our brunch group discovered that he was a male stripper when he, unbiddened I might note, decided to put on an impromptu show for a bunch of us. As you can see from this photo, Stephen laughed and laughed and laughed. It is ridiculous, and it makes no sense, but I still keep a lemon in my fridge. If anyone asks, I tell them that they can’t use it. I am holding it, just in case, for Stephen.