"I know it's in here someplace," Michael said, pulling out Christmas decorations, vacuum parts, a dusty guitar case, and all of the junk they'd been stuffing into the small hall closet since their move into the house. "I put it here so I could find it."

"Whose racquet is it anyway?" Hunter asked, as Michael all but disappeared into the coats hanging there.

"It's mine. I used to play with Brian some."

"I'll bet he handed your ass to you," Hunter teased.

"What makes you say that?" Michael tried to sound offended, but it was true. Sports weren't his thing and racquetball was no exception.

"Hey, whose old guitar?" Hunter pulled the case out to the middle of the floor and started to unpack it.

"Mine. Vic gave it to me when I was twelve or so. Maybe it was his. I don't remember, but I ended up with it," Michael replied as he pulled a shoebox off of the shelf and tried to feel with his hand to see if there was anything else up there.

"Can I take it up to my room?"

"Sure, but I doubt it's playable. It needs strings. You know, there's that music store--Mojo or whatever it's called--near my store. I could pick up a set of strings for it tomorrow, at lunchtime. Ahh, here it is," Michael's muffled voice came from the depths of the closet. Backing out, he produced a racquetball racquet. It was in considerably better shape than the guitar. "We'll have to get a can of balls. I don't see any of those in here. When are you and Ben playing again?"

"This weekend. Ben said we can use his faculty pass at the Carnegie Mellon Sportsplex." Hunter plucked at the four remaining guitar strings. They were badly out of tune.

"I may not be much at sports, but when we get new strings, I can tune that and show you a few basic chords. I used to play a little bit, in high school." Michael sneezed loudly as he began to shove all of the stuff he'd just taken out of the closet back in, except for the shoebox.

"Cool. Thanks."

The back door slammed and they heard Ben holler his ritual, "Hello," as he came toward them, rubbing his hands together. "Man, it's getting cold on the bike already. I'm going to stick my gloves in my pack so I'll have them. Are you cleaning out the closet?"

Michael kissed him hello and explained what they'd been doing, handing Ben the bag they kept cold weather accessories in, so he could find his gloves. As Ben and Hunter checked the racquet out and talked of their game plans, Michael carried the shoebox up to his and Ben's bedroom. Once there, he stood in the doorway, in a moment of indecision: now or later?

But he had already put off this task for far too long. He sat on the bed and carefully opened up the box which was bulging with envelopes. He flipped through the topmost ones, pausing at some of the familiar names. He hadn't heard from Anna Porter since they'd been next door neighbors during high school. And he thought his cousin, Jeremy, had disappeared off the face of the earth. Funny how news of his close call during the Babylon explosion had unearthed so much of his past.

Most of the letters were from strangers. These he flipped through quickly, wondering how many were well wishes and how many might be threatening or derogatory. It had only taken one note -- neat and carefully written, but dripping with hate -- to make him dread new mail.

One name caught his attention, but it took a full minute for the significance to sink in. He had to stop and read the name out loud: "D. Devore. New York. Huh." He pulled that one out and stared at it, the urge to open it warring with the fear of its contents.

The door opened and Ben slipped in, closing it behind him and leaning against it with a dramatic sigh and stage whisper. "Finally. I thought I'd never get you alone!"

Michael dropped the letter back into the box and smiled up at Ben. "Didn't realize you were so eager. I would have sent Hunter out on some errands or something."

Ben crossed the room and sat next to Michael. His eyes were alight with excitement. "I've got great news. I wanted to tell you first, so we could tell Hunter together."

"What is it?"

"I heard from the adoption lawyer, today!"

"What?" Michael yelped. "And you didn't call me?"

"I was literally halfway through the door to my last class. Afterwards, I was so excited I couldn't wait to get home and tell you in person."

"What is it? What did she say?"

Ben took a deep breath. "They did it. Rita had her court date and her rights were terminated. We're clear to adopt him and we can get the ball rolling as soon as we can make an appointment to start the paperwork."

"Holy crap," Michael said breathlessly. "It's really going to happen?"

Ben's smile was broad and beaming. "Really going to happen."

Michael had imagined this moment many times and figured he'd be ecstatic. Instead, he was surprised to find himself blinking back tears. To cover that up, he hugged Ben and said into his ear, "This calls for celebration."

Ben hugged him back and said, "I guess it depends on how Hunter will react. No matter what, she was still his mother."

"Yeah, you're right, but if he is up to it..."

"Ice cream?" Ben said with boyish eagerness.

Michael nodded. "Sounds perfect."

Ben cupped Michael's jaw. "We're going to be fine, you know. I think we're getting the hang of this dad thing."

"Oh, sure. I could do it in my sleep," Michael retorted with a small laugh. "Piece of cake."

"It hasn't exactly been smooth sailing, I know."

"Well, at least we get to be his dads." He left unsaid his regret that Jenny Rebecca was so far away and not under his care, but he could tell from the sudden sympathetic softness in Ben's eyes that Ben knew. Refusing to let himself get down, Michael slapped his knee and said, "Let's go tell him."

Ben looked over Michael's shoulder. "You sure? You looked like you were in the middle of something when I came in. We can wait a bit, until dinner."

Michael grabbed the shoebox, jammed the cover on, and shoved the whole thing under the bed. "Nah, that can wait until later. Just some papers I need to sort through. This news can't wait. Let's go talk to... our son."

Ben tapped on Hunter's door. "Hey, pal, are you busy?"

"Enter at your own risk." Hunter lay on his bed, reading a paperback. When he saw them both standing there, he set it aside, with a wary look. "What'd I do now?"

"You didn't do anything. Ben got some news today that we wanted to tell you." Hunter's eyes flashed concern and Michael realized he might be thinking it was medically related, so he hastened to add, "Good news, from the adoption lawyer."

"I heard from her today. The court terminated your mother's parental rights." Ben waited to let that sink in a few seconds, before continuing. "We're a big step closer to being your legal dads."

Hunter smiled, seeing the happiness on both of their faces, but wasn't quite sure why he wasn't jumping for joy. "I'll bet she couldn't wait to sign the papers." He shook his head, smirking.

Ben moved over to sit on the bed. "You have a lot to be angry at your mother for, but she finally did something right. Remember, she signed, even knowing that you're with people who fought her for you. I think she may have considered your interest, for a change. She sees that you're in a better place than she'll ever be able to offer and that we'll do our best by you."

Michael watched Hunter's face as he mulled over Ben's words, his thoughts hard to read.

"What's next?" he finally asked.

"We let the court continue to make a reasonable effort to locate your father, to let him know about the proceedings. If they can't find him in another month or so, I think we're home free."

"So, let's take advantage of Ben's mushy mood and get something high in sodium for dinner. Sugar too. Take out and dessert of your choice, as long as I agree. You and I can go get it." Michael added, still standing in the doorway. He and Hunter grinned at each other.

"I can feel the heartburn already," Ben moaned.

It was Saturday night and Ben was about to take a hot bath to "soak his achin' bones", after the big match that afternoon.

"Hunter's getting really strong, and he's fast too. I about killed myself."

Apparently, though Ben had won the best two-out-of -three at racquetball, it had cost him.

Watching him drag by, Michael asked, "Why didn't you let him win? You're so competitive."

Ben just looked askance at him as he limped into the bathroom and shook his head. "Why would I do that? He'll beat me fair and square soon enough." He closed the door and Michael heard the overhead fan switch on and water start to fill the tub.

'I guess the honeymoon's over' he thought to himself. There was a time when a bath was only drawn with the two of them sharing it together in mind. Michael was lying in bed, about to pick up a book, when he remembered the box of cards and letters. He leaned over the side and fished it out. The one from D. Devore still lay on top of the pile, where he'd left it.

While he'd been recuperating in the hospital, Ben had brought in the mail for him to open, but when Michael had shown Ben the first hate letter, he'd stopped bringing in any name that he didn't recognize, and just started collecting all of the unopened mail in this box, to be dealt with later. Michael was a little surprised that Ben hadn't recognized the name Devore, but to be fair, there was a lot going on at the time and Ben had not been at his most acute mental state, either.

He opened it. There was a photo of a bird, a pelican, just about to land in a calm lake or pond. The photographer had caught the moment, just before its feet touched the water, capturing a near perfect reflection. The inside had no verse, just hand writing.

There was a P.O. box number and phone number below the note.

Michael looked at the back of the card. No markings. It had not been purchased at a store. He wondered, idly, if Daniel was the photographer. Slipping it back in the envelope, he thought back to the last time he'd seen his father. The 'woman', in heels, the sequined dress, big wig, with thick foundation makeup covering the dark shadow on her face, who had entered the dressing room only to return minutes later, a slightly rumpled man in a sweater and corduroys, a shock of hair falling over his forehead, a pleasant face, probably much like his own face would look in 20 years.

The bathroom door opened and Ben came out, a towel wrapped around him, wiping his glasses with a tissue. "What's all that?"

"It's the letters and cards from the Babylon blast. I found it when I was looking for my racquet, a few days ago. Look at this." He held out the card.

Ben read the card, looked at the envelope, read it again. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry, baby. It didn't register that this was from your... from Danny."

Michael held open the covers, inviting Ben in. "No, it's fine. I was just surprised to see it. It's kind of unexpected that he wrote at all." He put the card on the bedside table and the box on the floor and gratefully let himself be folded into Ben's warm embrace. Ben still had damp hair and the wetness of the bath on his shoulders, but he was warm and smelled good and his back muscles flexed beneath Michael's hands.

"I miss Jenny Rebecca," Michael said into Ben's chest, where he'd buried his head, to kiss him and take in his freshness.

Ben sensed that Michael was feeling sad, about JR, about Hunter, about not knowing his dad, not knowing his dad had written him months ago. Ben felt guilty that he'd passed over the card and tossed it in the box, even though he knew Michael didn't blame him. "We're going to see her in three weeks," he soothed, rubbing Michael's back.

"I know. I just miss being her dad. I feel like... I want to hold her, talk to her, have her see me. A month or two is such a long time in a baby's life. How could Hunter's dad not try to see him in so many years?"

Ben thought Michael wanted to say, 'How could my mother have not told me, for so many years?' He combed his hand through Michael's hair. "We don't know exactly how long it's been, Michael, or even why. Maybe he's tried."

Michael raised his head, pulling it back to focus on Ben. "We know it's been years, and I don't think he's tried very hard. And neither does Hunter."

His eyes were dark and full of emotion: anger, sadness, maybe some regret, and definitely longing. Ben saw lots of things in there. They looked at each other, not knowing what else to say. Finally, Ben just kissed him three times and held him tighter. Sometimes the words 'I love you' were just plain inadequate.

Michael rolled over and turned the light out, pushing his back up against Ben, wanting closeness and comfort, but not sex. "God, grownups are so fucked up, sometimes -- my mother included." He was tired and emotional. Maybe he'd wake Ben up later to make love. Right now he needed to sleep, to 'not' think. He reached back and patted Ben's thigh. "'Night, honey." He hoped Ben knew he wasn't mad at him.

Part 2

Michael frowned at the words he'd just written, erased them, and started again:

The doorbell jangled cheerily before the door swung open. Michael squinted against the blinding sun shrouding the tall, lanky figure in the doorway. "Brian! I wasn't expecting you here."

Brian strolled over and leaned against the counter across from Michael. "You would have if you picked up your voicemail. I called you three times." He looked around the store, which was empty but for one boy searching the shelves in the corner. "You must have been swamped with all these hordes of kids trying to get their grubby hands on all your comics."

"Sorry," Michael said sheepishly. "I had my phone turned off for an hour. I needed to get some stuff done on my lunch break."

Brian watched as the young boy approached the counter. "Aren't you supposed to stop working when you're on your break?"

"Couldn't turn him away. He's a regular." Michael smiled at the boy who handed over two comics and a crumpled five dollar bill. "Got everything you need, Alex?"

The boy nodded wordlessly.

Michael rang up the sale, bagged the comics, and handed them over. "Don't forget. The new 'Green Lantern' is coming next Tuesday."

Alex nodded again. "Thanks, Michael," he added in a voice that cracked and warbled with pubertal strain, before he slipped out of the store, carefully cradling his comics.

Michael got one look at the mockery in Brian's eyes before he pinned his friend with a dark glare and said, "Don't. My customers are off-limits for any jokes, today. Besides, he's a nice kid and I remember when your voice used to crack like the Liberty Bell."

"Low blow, Mikey." Brian sighed. "Well, if you won't oblige me by rediscovering your sense of humor, would you like to grab a real meal? There must be some edible food somewhere nearby."

"I'd love to, but not today. I've got some stuff to work on."

Brian tilted his head to read what Michael had been writing. He only got as far as "Dear Daniel" before Michael turned the paper over. "Secrets, Mikey? Don't tell me. You're writing a passionate love letter to your little something on the side. Your beloved partner will be devastated by the betrayal." Brian laid his hand across his heart and shook his head in mock sympathy for Ben.

"Actually, I'm writing to Danny Devore."

"Really? Your father?"

"Yeah. He wrote to me when he heard about the bombing. I've been trying to figure out what to say to him for days."

"Well, what did he say to you?"

"Oh, nothing special," Michael said airily. "More or less it was 'Heard you almost got killed. Glad you're not dead.'"

Brian gave Michael a knowing look. "I bet you were expecting a long, heartfelt letter."

"No," Michael bit out. "He hardly even knows me. I wasn't expecting a letter at all. I mean, I'm glad I got it, but I don't know what it means."

"Maybe it doesn't mean anything more than what it says."

Michael shrugged. "Maybe." That was also his best guess and a bitter one to accept.

"Or maybe he wants more. If you really want to know, ask him."

"It's not that easy."

"So, sit here and wonder. That's much more productive."

"Look, let's just drop it. I've got enough stress in my life, as it is, without worrying about all the long lost fathers of the world."

"What? You've got more than one?"

"Not mine. Hunter's. Long story."

Brian looked at his watch. "There's a halfway decent deli down the block and I've got forty minutes. That should be plenty of time for a recap."

Later that evening, Ben came home to the ungodly sound of a musical instrument being tortured. He found Hunter in the living room, fiddling with Michael's guitar. "Still plugging away at that, huh?"

Hunter adjusted his fingers on the strings and strummed another sequence of off key notes. "Yeah, it's not as easy it looks."

Ben smiled with encouragement. "I'm sure you'll get it in no time. Is Michael home?"

"In the den," Hunter replied before bending over the guitar and continuing to play.

Ben stowed his coat in the closet before he headed to the den. With his back to the door, Michael was hunched over the desk and scribbling away at something.

"Michael?" Ben was surprised at Michael's lack of response until he noticed the earplugs. He walked around the desk and waited until Michael looked up. "He's not that loud."

Michael's vague frown transformed into a small smile before he removed his earplugs. "Sorry. I just needed to concentrate and I didn't have the heart to make him go upstairs."

Ben leaned down for a quick kiss before saying, "And who's to blame?"

"Believe me, as soon as I get a chance, he's going to get a crash course in playing the guitar. I'm just hoping he doesn't decide he wants to hook up to an amp."

"You and me both." Ben took note of the papers spread across the desk. "Are you working on your correspondence again?" He looked a little closer at the columns of numbers written in a small, open notebook. "Or are you secretly taking a math class?"

"I was just crunching a few numbers, taking a look at our budget."

"I thought we weren't due for that until next week."

"You're right. I wanted to see if we could scrounge up some extra cash."

"Why? You have some unexpected expenses?" Ben crossed his fingers in hope that it wasn't anything too expensive. Between the adoption lawyer and all the traveling they'd been doing to Toronto, their budget was tight.

"Not yet, but we might. I wanted to see if we could afford it, before I brought it up."

Ben sat on the edge of the desk. "It might help if you start from the beginning. What do we need extra money for?"

Michael leaned back in his chair and looked up at Ben. "I was talking to Brian..."

"Somehow, those words make me a little nervous," Ben joked.

"No, this is serious."

Ben wiped the smile from his face. "Sorry. Go on."

"I was talking to him about the adoption and how we..." Michael glanced at the doorway and dropped his voice. "...how I was worried about Hunter's biological father. He mentioned that he knows a private investigator."

"Why would we need that? The state's already looking for him."

Michael sat forward, his voice rising a notch. "That's the thing. How hard are they looking?"

"I don't know, but I assumed--"

"Maybe we shouldn't assume. I spoke to our lawyer and to Hunter's social worker. They told me some interesting things. This 'search' they do for the father doesn't really amount to a whole lot -- his birth records, a few questions to his mom, an ad in the paper, and not much more."

Ben set aside the fact that Michael had been talking to all these people before they had a conversation about it. That could wait until another discussion. For now, he digested Michael's information with a growing sense of unease. "Are you sure? It doesn't sound like they try very hard."

"Exactly! If we really want to know, we need to hire our own investigator."

"Thus, your review of our budget?"

"Yes. What do you think?"

Stalling a little while he considered the ramifications, Ben grabbed another chair and sat down. "And if we find this man and he wants Hunter back? Or if he turns out to be another Rita? Someone who's just going to bring him more pain?"

"I don't know," Michael said in a hoarse whisper, "but don't we owe him to try? If we don't do what we can to give him the choice, how are we any better than his mother?"

Ben wanted to protest that this was as much about Michael, J.R. and Danny as it was about Hunter, but he couldn't because Michael had a valid point: if some father was going to crawl out of the woodwork, wouldn't it be better to face it head on? With great reluctance, he asked, "So, can we afford it? This P.I.?"

"We should both go over the numbers, but I think we can do it if we hold off on buying the car for a few months. And we'll probably need to dip into our emergency funds."

Ben chewed that over. It would mean relying on buses and his own two feet when the weather didn't allow for biking, and running the risk of being short of funds in case of an emergency. On the other hand, this basically was an emergency. If it would buy them all some peace of mind, it might be worth it. "Okay, tell me more about this private investigator."

"You don't need one."

Michael and Ben both whipped around to look towards the den doorway. How they had missed the quiet when Hunter stopped playing the guitar, Ben would never know. Hunter stood there, clutching the guitar in one hand, the other hand shoved in his jeans pocket, and his eyes staring above their heads, as if deliberately avoiding their eyes.

"What do you mean?" Ben asked softly.

Hunter's voice became flat and robotic. "You don't need to hire someone to find my father. I know who he is." And with that blunt announcement, he turned and walked away.

Michael was up and following him in an instant. "What? Do you know something about where he is?"

Hunter slumped on the couch, laying the guitar aside. "He sent me a letter about two and a half years ago, just before I ditched my last foster placement."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Michael's voice was louder than he meant it to be.

Hunter got that 'back off' look on his face, saying, "Chill, dude. It's not like we're pen-pals or anything."

Ben shot Michael a look, telling him to calm down, and interjected, "Hunter, we're glad you're telling us now. Do you remember if he said anything about where he was writing from? Did you keep the letter?"

"Why would I keep his stinkin' letters?"

Michael was in no mood for belligerent Hunter, today. "He didn't ask you that. He asked if you... did you say letters?"

Hunter got up and headed for the stairs, signaling the end of this conversation. "Look, he's a non-issue. I'm not that hard to find. If he wanted to see me, he could have."

"Hunter!" Michael started to follow him, but Ben put a hand out to hold his arm.

"Let him go. He's upset and there's no use trying to force him to talk, right now. You both need to calm down."

Michael had assumed the arms-folded-over-chest stance that Ben had come to know as his 'don't push me' look. "Well, aren't you upset? He's been holding back information that would have helped the case. He knows we've been trying to find his father, so the adoption can proceed, and it's like he's sabotaging it! I thought he wanted us to be his family."

"Michael," Ben drew him into the kitchen where their voices wouldn't be overheard, and spoke more quietly, trying to calm his emotional man. "If it's true, that his father has known where he is, this means both of his parents have willingly abandoned him. We know just some of the abuse Rita encouraged and let happen. Imagine the feelings that our adopting him must bring up."

"Yes, I know all that, Ben, we've been in counseling, he's been in counseling, but..."

"I think he's thrilled that we want him, and we know he loves us, in his way. We just need to give him time. Maybe we're moving too fast on this." Ben sat at the table.

"Well, we have to. What if Prop 14 passes?"

"We still don't sacrifice his emotional health. Let's forget the timetable and just..."

"Forget the timetable? If his father is out there, I think we need to resolve this. Hunter needs to see him."

Now it was Ben who was getting louder. "We are not going to force him to see his father. I agree with Hunter. If the guy's always known where he is, then he's made his choice."

Michael looked incredulous. "We don't know that. What if he's in jail or sick or, I don't know, maybe Hunter told him to 'fuck off'? He's certainly said that to us, plenty! He's written letters." Michael emphasized the pleural.

Ben stopped arguing and looked at Michael a few seconds. "I don't think we should continue this conversation, right now. We're all tired and hungry, at least I am, and you and I need to regroup here." Then he added, "And you need to get clear on whose father your thinking about."

Michael looked confused, then angry. "Why are you bringing my father into this?"

"I'm not -- but I think you are."

"Oh, really? Well while we're throwing our amateur psychological theories on the table, I think you're afraid that this 'father' lurking out there might actually be someone Hunter could come to care about and might choose to have a relationship with, Debbie!"

"What I'm feeling has nothing to do with what your mother did to you. That's more of your stuff."

They sat there, opposite each other at the small kitchen table, glaring. Michael was the first to speak. "Okay, maybe my parent issues are coming up, but that doesn't make what I said, about finding out more about his father, wrong. I shouldn't have gotten so excited though. I'm sorry." He reached across the table and offered his hand, for Ben to take.

Ben couldn't stay mad, especially when Michael was right. He took the offered hand and they each gave the other a crooked smile and squeezed fingers. "Let's have dinner and can this, for tonight. We'll decide how to approach Hunter, in a way that assures him we're on his side. I'm sure he'll eventually tell us what he knows."

Michael nodded and got up to search the fridge for something dinner-ish, to make. It took him a good ten minutes of staring into the lighted interior of the fridge before he could make himself start pulling ingredients off the shelf. In the end, his choice didn't make much difference because none of them had much of an appetite. They ate dinner quietly, the silence in the room interrupted only by the clink of silverware. Before his dinner was half-eaten, Hunter pushed his chair back. Michael laid a hand on his arm. "Wait."

"Can't we do this later? I've got homework." His face was still void of expression, but there was a pleading note in his voice.

"Michael," Ben interjected. "I thought we agreed that this could wait until tomorrow."

Michael shot Ben a pinched look. He turned back to Hunter. "I'm sorry that I jumped all over you, before. I was just surprised by what you said. I'm glad you finally told us."

Hunter gave Michael a quick nod and pulled his arm away from Michael's restraining hand. He spent the minimum amount of time necessary to clean up after his dinner, before leaving the kitchen.

Ben continued to pick at his dinner. He looked up when he felt the weight of Michael's stare. "What?"

Michael shook his head. "Putting this off too long won't help."

"Too long? By giving him time, I meant longer than an hour. We agreed to leave it for tonight."

"And if he doesn't want to talk about it tomorrow? What then?"

"We'll deal with it. Together. I don't want to back him into an impossible corner and make him run away again!"

"Well, he might be here, but he's still running away."

Ben's heart sank at the truth of that statement.

Part 3

As Michael had predicted, the much-needed conversation didn't occur the next night, nor the one after that. Suddenly, it seemed that Hunter was delving into his studies and after-school activities like he never had before, staying after school for extra help and spending long hours at the library. Even when he was home, he managed to make himself nearly invisible.

On the third day, Ben really started to worry that Michael had been right: that they should have pushed Hunter when he first revealed his secret. He and Michael had always intended to have a family conversation, but on Saturday morning, the opportunity presented itself when he caught Hunter yanking his jacket out of the coat closet.

"Hey!"

Hunter's head shot up and his face was a picture of consternation. "I gotta go. I'm meeting--"

"No."

"No?"

"It's Saturday and I know you don't have any tests or major projects coming up. Whatever it is, I'm betting it can wait."

"But, I've--"

"Been avoiding us. I understand why, but it can't continue."

Hunter scowled with resentment. "Don't you want to wait so you can gang up on me? Tell me how I screwed up?"

"Of course not!" Ben exclaimed. "We just want to resolve this the best way possible."

Hunter yanked on the strap of his knapsack, pulling it closer as if trying to shield himself. "So, why are you looking for him? He didn't give a crap about me for years, so why are you both so hot to find him? Why does he get to have any say in my life?"

In the face of Hunter's anger, Ben forced himself to keep an even tone. "We're trying to do this by the book, Hunter. We don't want anything to mess up the adoption."

Hunter stepped up to Ben, red-faced and shouting. "And what if he changed his mind? You guys find him and all of a sudden he wants all that father-son bullshit? Or what if he's like my mom and wants me for other stuff?"

"We can--"

"No! You won't be able to do a thing about it and I'll have to run away again! I can't..." His voice broke and he slumped against the wall, deflated. "I thought it was all over."

Ben reached out to clasp Hunter's shoulder, careful, in case he should be rejected. "It is over."

Hunter shook his head in refutation of Ben's statement. "You don't know that. You don't know crap about him." He was dry-eyed, but his body shook with the force of his emotions. "You don't know how bad it was with her. I'd rather be..."

Ben's imagination filled in the last word and his horror grew. He pulled Hunter into his arms until the boy's stiff posture relaxed in his arms. Hunter was still shaking and breathing too hard, but he didn't push away. "We love you and there's nothing we wouldn't do to keep you safe." He thought about his previous hesitation when Michael had, essentially, kidnapped Hunter rather than turn him over to his abusive mother. Now, more than ever, he could understand how it felt to make such a difficult choice.

When Hunter calmed down, Ben drew away a little, so he could look him in the eye. "You don't have to meet him if you don't want to. We can still get this investigator to find out more about him. We can even meet him first."

"Great," Hunter said dully.

"Look, you're older now -- old enough that there would be no point in this man trying to stop the adoption process. If he's a good person, he'll see that."

"And if he's not?"

"If he's not, he'll probably just sign and let us do it without a problem."

"So, like I said, there's no point in tracking him down."

"But there is."

"What?"

"We want you with us, more than anything, but with the political atmosphere being what it is, we can't afford to skip steps. Hunter, I'd love it if you could make some kind of peace with what your parents have done, but you don't have to do it now. No matter what, Michael and I will be here for you." When Hunter said nothing, Ben said, insistently, "Okay?"

"Okay," Hunter whispered.

Michael folded the freshly laundered shirt and slapped it on top of his growing pile, nearly knocking the whole thing over. "Great! Thanks for waiting for me."

"It was a spur of the moment thing. Maybe it's better this way. He himself said he felt like we were ganging up on him."

"So, I get to be the villain, while you get to swoop in to the rescue?"

"That's not fair. That's not how it was!"

Michael yanked a pair of sweat pants from the washing machine and started folding. "Just tell me what he said."

"Michael--"

"Please don't apologize, again. That's my shtick."

Ben felt an ache in his jaw and realized he'd been clenching his jaw in frustration. Ever since Hunter's revelation, he felt like all his nerves and muscles were being tied into tight knots. He took a deep breath and tried to relax. "I wasn't going to apologize because I don't think I did anything wrong. I'm just sorry that you're upset about it, but you would have done the same, I bet."

"No, I would have waited."

Ben threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine. Shoot me."

Michael mumbled something under his breath, and Ben was sure it wasn't complimentary. "How many times are we going to do this? The whole point is that we want to be a family. We can't keep acting like we're opposing sides in some battle!"

After one of the longest minutes of silence Ben had ever endured, Michael's angry expression eased a fraction. "What did he say?"

"He's afraid that his father might want him."

"I can underst...wait. What?"

"He's afraid his father might want him and that we won't be able to stop him. He's afraid it might be another Rita, all over again, maybe worse."

Michael nodded sadly.

"He didn't exactly say it, but I think he's also afraid of the flipside, that contacting this man will confirm what Hunter told us -- that his father really doesn't want him."

Michael tossed down the shorts he was holding. "We're screwed either way."

"Yup."

"We can't not look for him. Not when we know."

"I agree."

"Worst case scenario, we make a break for Canada," Michael said with a broken laugh.

Ben couldn't find it in himself to laugh. "If necessary."

Michael's eyes widened. "You would? Really?"

"I don't want it to come to that, but if it was a choice between that and letting him get hurt, there would be no choice."

Ben wondered if he looked slightly sick and scared like Michael did in that moment. He took Michael's hand in his and it made him feel a little better. "So, we find out what he can about this guy."

"Right," Michael said while nervously wringing the shorts he was holding into a tight band.

"And whatever we find, we deal with it."

Ben called Michael at the store, on Wednesday. "I think we can forgo the investigator."

"Why? Did you hear something?"

"James Montgomery was located in Galveston, Texas, and he signed the papers."

"Oh. Shit." Again, the heart thumping and sting of tears hit Michael. Poor kid, he thought. He had customers waiting, and there didn't seem to be much to say. "I'll see you tonight and we'll tell him together."

Part 4

Michael walked in the front door to find Ben standing there in his coat, looking worried.

"I just got here and found this on the table." He handed Michael the letter stuffed in the envelope. It was addressed to Hunter and seemed to have come in that day's mail. The return address said J. Montgomery, Galveston, Texas.

"Have you read it?" Michael looked around. "Where is he?" Ben just looked at him shaking his head and he knew they were both thinking that maybe Hunter had taken off. Michael handed the letter back to Ben and started up the stairs, taking them two at a time, intending to check if anything was missing from Hunter's room, when they heard the back door being opened, followed by the familiar clumping of big clunky boots on gangly teenaged legs. They looked at each other, both smiling with relief.

"Hey, Hunter."

"Hey, pal." The greetings rang out in unison, as Michael came back down the stairs.

Hunter came through the kitchen, toward them, and nodded at the letter in Ben's hand. "Did you read it?"

"Uh, no, we both just got home and found it laying here," Ben answered. "Where'd you go?"

"Just out riding my bike a while."

Michael couldn't contain himself. "What's he say? Do you want us to read it?"

"Well, I left it there..."

Ben unfolded it and began to read aloud, 'Dear Jimmy, a man from The State of Penn. came by and gave me some papers today that say you are going to be adopted. It seems like the people adopting you are two men. He wouldn't tell me anything much about the details, but just said if I had any problems with it, I should contact some agency. You must be 16 or 17 years old by now, so I figure you must be O.K. with this. But in thinking more about it, I thought I'd write and let you know that if you are not, I'll see what I can do.'

'I am giving the man this letter to send to you. He would not tell me where you are. Just call this number and let me know. Your father, James Montgomery.'

Hunter's face was a study in non-emotion, as Ben finished reading. Both men stared at him, waiting for him to say something, so finally he shrugged, saying, "There. Now you can get on with the adoption."

Michael had to ask, "Don't you want to call him?"

"No."

"But he asked you to. He seems worried."

"Michael..." Ben's voice warned.

"Fuck his worry! He's just worried that you're queer! He never worried when I was with a nice, abusive foster mom and dad."

Michael held up his hand, in a gesture to stop Hunter's anger. "Okay, you're probably right. It just seems like he's trying to reach out, but too ignorant of all of this to know how to communicate with you."

"I can't believe you feel sorry for him!"

Michael suddenly realized how this must sound to Hunter, who was furious and hurt at his seeming concern for James Montgomery. "No, Hunter. I'm not excusing him for leaving and all of his neglect. It's more complicated than that," he struggled to explain, but he hadn't had time to figure it out himself. Shit! He shouldn't have said anything--should have waited until he and Ben had talked. "I'm sorry, Hunter," he finished lamely.

Ben spoke up. "We can proceed with the adoption now. Michael's just talking about what you and I talked about the other day, Hunter, about making peace with the way your father chose to handle his relationship with you." Ben looked pointedly at Michael, when saying the words 'your father chose to handle.'

"I think you're probably right, that his concern is that two men are adopting you. Maybe you can just send him a brief statement that you are part of the whole decision...we don't have to figure it out right now," he hastened to add when Hunter looked as if he might protest again. "Thanks for letting us see the letter. Do you want it?" Ben held it out to him.

"No."

"Okay, but would you mind if I hold onto it for a while?"

"You're not going to contact him behind my back, are you?" Hunter questioned, eying Michael suspiciously.

"No, Hunter, we would never do that," Ben assured him, glancing at Michael for confirmation.

Michael sat on the couch shaking his head, looking miserable. "No, never," he echoed.

"Well, it's my turn to cook, so I'm going to go figure out what's for dinner."

"I'll be in my room." Hunter headed up the stairs.

The tension in the room lingered as Ben left for the kitchen. Michael knew Ben was mad at him. He was right. Michael was letting his feelings about his own 'lost' father and his long distance-fathering of Jenny Rebecca, cloud this whole mess. Things had never been this tense between them all, even when Michael was losing it, over Mel and Lindsay's decision to move.

At least then, Hunter and Ben had been on his side; they weren't arguing every fucking time it came up. But Hunter was so unable to even think about his father. He flew into a rage at the mere mention of dealing with him. Maybe they had to let it go. Let him just go on as fucked up about his parents as so many others were. Look at Brian and his parents, Emmett and his family. Hunter's were worse, by far, but he would either come to some resolution or not, just as everyone else had to.

He heard Ben clanking pans in the kitchen and decided to go face the music. He didn't like feeling on the outs with him -- especially when it came to Hunter.

Michael stood in the doorway. "Are you speaking to me?"

"Not right now."

"I'm sorry. I fucked up, totally. You're right, my own issues are messing me up. I can't think about just Hunter's side in this. I have empathy for his father. I have a kid who could say one day that her father didn't try hard enough to keep her close -- to be there for her."

"Jenny's and your situation is nothing like this."

"Tell that to an angry teenager!"

"Michael, we know Hunter, what he's gone through, and we know that his father has been...ineffectual, at the very least! For you to take his part, in front of Hunter...!"

"I know. It was awful. I feel terrible about it."

"And now he doesn't trust us."

That brought Michael up short. "Do you really think that?"

Ben could see that he'd hit a nerve. He spoke more gently, "I think we need to let this go, for now, maybe forever." He went to face Michael. "Let's just accept that this is a place that is deeply injured in him, and he'll need to come to terms with it, in his own time, in his own way. I want him to know that we'll be here to help in any way we can, when and if he's ready. But I want you to stop pushing him."

Michael just nodded and walked back into the living room. It's a good thing we don't have a dog, he thought, because I'd kick it! He felt estranged from Hunter and Ben. The joy he used to feel at the prospect of adopting Hunter seemed gone. Was he really just projecting all of this? Ben seemed so ready to just move ahead, but did Hunter really want them to be his dads? He needed to be able to talk to Hunter, not have him freak out and have Ben rush in to rescue him from it every time. So what if they yelled at each other? Michael was used to that kind of discussion, growing up with Debbie. He and Hunter had had it out before, when they were on the lam together. Hunter could give as good as he got. Michael didn't think all of this tension, left unresolved, was good for anyone. This felt shitty.

It was another quiet meal, that night.

Michael went to bed early, both to ponder how to best support Hunter and because he was irritated with what he was beginning to think of as Ben's well intentioned but misguided efforts to protect him from the father discussion. He was nearly asleep when he heard Ben come in, take his clothes off and slip into bed. Michael lay on his side, letting Ben think he was asleep, but Ben had other ideas and began to touch him.

Spooning up behind him, he slipped his hand under Michael's tee shirt and began rubbing his chest and stomach. Michael could feel his nakedness.

"Baby, are you awake?" Michael didn't answer.

"Never go to sleep mad, remember?" He slipped his finger tips under the waistband of Michael's shorts, just holding his hip bone as he stroked his thumb over the skin.

"I'm not in the mood." But it would feel wonderful to have his back rubbed.

"Are you sure?" Ben kissed the back of his neck.

"I'm upset." He felt a warm hand glide over his hip and thigh.

"I know. I am too. I don't want us to go to sleep like this. Let me...help...release some of our tension." He kissed Michael's ear and kept up the smooth movements of his strong hands and, in spite of himself, Michael began to respond, moving his arms out of the way to allow better access.

"I'm kind of pissed at you." Regardless, Michael turned over to face him and Ben kissed his lips.

"I know. I'm sorry," Ben sucked the spot just under his ear, murmuring., "but you still love me, right?"

Michael could feel himself starting to thicken and his breath come a little faster. Damn, Ben could play him...He became aware of his own hands rubbing Ben's back. He loved the feel of Ben's body; his muscles were so firm, the skin was taut and smooth.

"Yeah, but..." Ben silenced him, kissed him hard, his tongue stroking Michael's upper lip. A little moan sounded in his throat and Michael answered with one of his own.

Michael's hand slid over Ben's bare thigh and buttock and squeezed, pressing their hips together. "This isn't going to make everything better, but your hands do feel good," Michael allowed. Then he used his teeth a little roughly on Ben's tender neck.

"Take off your...ouch! You feel better now?"

"Sorry." Michael smiled, not really sorry, and kissed the spot, licked and sucked it, beginning to feel very aroused. He raised his arms and sat up part way so Ben could pull his shirt off. Then he let Ben work his shorts off the rest of the way.

He just lay there as Ben made love to him, occasionally initiating a touch of his own, but mostly letting Ben do all of the work. He took it as a peace offering, an unspoken message that Ben understood that Michael might have a point. They would talk more tomorrow.

Emmett leaned over the pool table, the cue stick held loosely in his fingers while he eyed the balls. He took a breath and had just started to make his move, when Brian goosed him and made the shot go wild. The eight ball bounced against the lip of the table before rolling into a corner pocket. "Fuck! What the hell is the matter with you?"

Brian raised his brows. "Moi?"

"Yes, you." Emmett propped one hip against the table. "You know, the older you get, the less you can deal with losing. It's really not attractive."

"Screw you."

"You should be so lucky. Why so grouchy? You didn't get that guy's number, did you?"

Brian only scowled and looked over to where the guy in question was laughing it up with the bartender. "No loss. There are at least half a dozen hotter guys in here, anyway."

"I tried to warn you that he's practically married to his lover. They've been together for almost ten years. Word on the street is that they never cheat."

Brian took a swig of his drink and replied, "Another true love story. Haven't heard that before. Speaking of which..." He snapped his fingers in front of Michael's face. "Hey! You with us?"

Michael nodded. "Sorry. I'm a million miles away."

"You didn't have to tell us that, honey," Emmett quipped. "What's wrong? You've been spacing all night."

"It's nothing."

"Trouble with the hubby?" Emmett guessed.

"Sort of."

"What is it?"

"I don't really want to talk about it." Michael gazed into his empty drink glass and wondered when he'd finished it. He looked up, about to ask his friends if either of them wanted anything while he went for a refill, only to find them both staring at him. "What? Do I have something on my face?" He brushed his own cheek, expecting to find pretzel crumbs.

"You were saying you were having trouble with Ben," Emmett offered helpfully.

"Right. And I also said I don't want to talk about it." At Emmett and Brian's matching looks of disbelief, Michael became exasperated. "I just need to work this out on my own. I don't tell you guys everything." Their disbelief turned to smirks. "Fine. You know what? I don't need to be mocked. If I need to feel worse, I can just go home. Thanks." He grabbed his jacket from where it lay on a nearby table and started working his way through the crowd, to the exit.

He had just reached the sidewalk when someone grabbed his elbow. He whirled, expecting to give Brian a well-deserved tongue lashing, but found a very apologetic-looking Emmett, instead.

"Forgive us? We didn't mean to make you more upset."

At the sincere words, Michael felt a little embarrassed by his reaction. "It's not you guys. I've got some stuff going on and I'm a little grouchy. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

Emmett hooked Michael's arm with his own. "What are friends for? That offer to talk is still open. Or I can just listen."

He really didn't feel like talking about it, but it felt good to know that he had someone who didn't prefer he just keep his big mouth shut. "Thanks, Em. I really appreciate it."

"Nothing to it. Besides, I miss our talks. It feels like it's been forever."

"Yeah. Everything changes so fast," Michael said wistfully. The very thought of how different everything was made him feel much older than his thirty-four years. And yet there was still a part of him that still felt like that little eight-year old who still prayed and wrote letters to Santa and made impossible wishes that went unanswered. "Do you ever think about going back?"

Emmett looked puzzled. "Back to being roomies again?"

"Back home. To Hazelhurst."

"God no!"

"What about the family you left behind?" Michael insisted. "Aren't there any you miss?"

"The ones who were worth going back for have all passed on. As for the others, who needs 'em? I've got my family right here -- you, Ted, Debbie...even Mr. King of Babylon, himself," Emmett said with a jerk of his head towards the bar where he'd left Brian.

"Right. The family you choose." How many times had Michael heard that one?

"Just because it's a cliché, doesn't mean it's not true. You're living proof, hon."

You don't know the half of it! Michael thought to himself. I got a new name and a dead father chosen for me. But all he said was, "I guess."

Emmett's expression became more serious. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me what's bothering you?"

"There's some stuff going on with Hunter and it's just hard to figure out the right thing to do." Michael was tempted to say more, but... "It's a long story and I'm kind of tired. How about if I give you call tomorrow?"

"Great, but make it after six. I'll be doing my nails, so it'll be the perfect time for a heart-to-heart. They talked me into one of those drag contests again. I don't know why I don't say no."

Michael smiled and teased, "Because you love all the adulation?"

"Don't I know it!"

They both fell into laughter and then Michael hugged Em, grateful for the slight lift in his mood. Spying an empty cab coming down the street, he released his friend and waved the cab down. "Tell Brian I said good night and I'll call him tomorrow afternoon."

"Will do, assuming he hasn't disappeared with his latest conquest. You get home safe, okay?"

"Don't worry. I will. Bye." Michael climbed into the taxi and gave the driver the directions for home.

Part 5

The next morning, Michael woke with a headache and an upset stomach. When did Woody's stop watering down the drinks? he wondered. He hadn't had that much. Then he looked at the clock and remembered that he'd stayed up until three, tossing and turning until he'd left the room, afraid of waking Ben. Three hours of half-dozing on their lumpy living room couch had hardly touched the edges of his exhaustion. He stood, feeling every creak and ache deep down the bone, and dragged himself to the shower. On the bathroom mirror, he found a note informing him that Ben had gone to the University library and would be back by lunch.

Downstairs, Michael got the paper and fixed himself a pot of coffee and some toast. He tried to read the local news, but his attention kept wandering to the same thoughts that had been bugging him for days. What to do about Hunter?

Finally, fortified by caffeine and mental resolve, he decided it was time. His stomach lurched with nervousness, but he gripped his coffee mug and climbed the stairs to Hunter's bedroom.

He knocked, pushed the door open and found Hunter sitting on the bed, holding the guitar. "Morning. I'm surprised to see you up this early."

Hunter didn't look at him, but kept fiddling with the guitar strings. "Hey."

"We never got around to that guitar lesson."

Hunter shrugged.

"Would you like me to show you a few chords?"

Abruptly, Hunter set the guitar aside. "I gotta study for my Math test."

"Really? It's seven in the morning."

"So?"

"I'm not used to seeing you awake this early, much less hitting the books."

Again, Hunter said nothing and reached for one of the books stacked on the floor by his bedside. He made a big production of flipping through the book, finding a page, getting his notebook and doing everything to ignore Michael's presence. Finally, he looked up and asked, "Something else you want?"

"Yeah, there is." Michael walked into the room and sat on the bed. "Talk to me. Tell me that you're pissed off or that you're scared or that you want to punch a wall. Just talk to me."

"I got nothin' to say."

Michael thought about the long talk he and Ben had had about the best approach and all the concerns that his husband had raised. He had wracked his brain about the best way to say what needed to be said, but just like his letter to Danny, the words never seemed right. And now he watched as Hunter sat, staring at him with the sullen eyes of an angry stranger. What could possibly get around all the 'go away' signals?

"I never told you about my father," Michael blurted out.

"Thought you never met him."

"No, I didn't," Michael said quietly. "Growing up, we had a picture on the mantel -- it's still there, as a matter of fact -- of this guy who was supposed to be my dad. Big war hero, got awards and everything, died in Vietnam, love of my mom's life." Michael paused at the sudden flare of anger that made it harder to talk. "Except that none of it was true. None of it. Hell, not even my name is real. Novotny," he said with bitterness. "She made that up, just like everything else."

Hunter was still quiet, but now he was staring at Michael, who took a deep breath before continuing.

"Ben and I found my mom's old yearbook and there was a picture of this guy who looked exactly like me. He could have been me. And that's when it hit me that my mother had been lying to me all these years. I confronted her about it."

"What'd she say?" Hunter asked grudgingly.

"Denied it. Danny was in town, so I met him and talked to him. Eventually, the truth came out, but it was too late. We had our own lives and I guess the whole father-son reunion wasn't meant to be. Since then, Ma and I just pretend like none of it ever happened, but sometimes I think about how he's out there and how I don't know him and he doesn't know me, doesn't know Ben or you or Jenny Rebecca and it makes me so..." Michael gulped and tried to find a word that fit the hot mix of feelings that always bubbled up when he thought about this. There were no words. His head started to ache again and it made his eyes water and blur.

"I'm not you," Hunter said after a long, heavy silence. "And James Montgomery sure as fuck isn't Danny."

"Of course. I know that."

"Then quit trying to turn this into some freaking Disney movie! My dad," he said, spitting out the phrase with disgust, "doesn't give a shit about me and he never did! He knew how screwed up my mom was, but he didn't care! He left me with her and he didn't look back until it was too fucking late. I asked him--" Hunter's mouth snapped shut with a choked sob.

Michael held his breath, unreasonably afraid that the slightest movement would shatter this moment. "Asked him what?"

Hunter's fingers were white where they gripped his textbook, and his hands were shaking a little. "Long time ago. Back when he used to send her a check, once in a while. I wrote to him and told him stuff was bad."

Michael inhaled sharply. Stuff had been bad, indeed. He didn't think there was much that could have made it worse.

"I didn't tell him everything." Hunter's voice had gone husky and quiet. "Not all the stuff she made me do, about the johns or anything. I didn't want him to think I was a freak," he added with a humorless snort. "My mom used to give me the letters she wrote to him to drop off in the mail. I stuck my letter in, without telling her. And I waited."

"Did he answer?" Michael asked, though he knew the answer already.

"Nah," Hunter said, too casually. "I know he got it 'cause he answered her letter, but he didn't say anything about mine. The week after that, I took off for the first time. Took 'em a week to find me. After I did that a few times, they stuck me in foster care."

Michael slid across the bed until he was sitting right beside Hunter. He was close enough to feel his heat and the tremors of his body. "I'm so sorry he did that to you. He didn't deserve you."

"Like anyone does?" Hunter's voice cracked. "Seems like they can't get rid of me fast enough."

Michael shook his head emphatically. "We -- Ben and I -- feel lucky to have you, lucky that you trusted enough to give us a chance...even when we screw up royally."

"Yeah, right," Hunter retorted. He sniffed and wiped at his nose with the back of his hand.

"No lie," Michael said with a nudge to Hunter's shoulder.

Hunter nudged back, but then stayed where he was leaning against Michael's shoulder. "Don't go getting mushy on me," he said with a shaky voice.

"No way."

Michael could tell that Hunter had reached his limit and he himself felt a little wiped. "So, about that guitar lesson...?"

"Yeah. Guess so," he said, his whole body sagging against Michael's as if in relief.

Later, when he let himself out of Hunter's room, Michael breathed a sigh of relief that he'd passed this hurdle without falling flat on his face. He felt too antsy to sit around the house, but too... something to talk to Ben or any of his friends.

Deciding that he had to do something or go crazy, he settled on yard work. Unfortunately, raking the leaves and repairing the broken hinge on the mailbox didn't kill nearly as much time as he hoped it would, so he turned his eyes upward.

"Joy of homeowning, my ass," he muttered to himself as he looked at the spot on the roof that needed fixing. He and Ben were supposed to get that done this weekend, but there was no point in putting it off.

He had just settled onto the roof, in a spot where he didn't feel like he'd slide off any second, when he reached for the hammer and realized it was sitting on the ground. Cursing his forgetfulness, he began to make his way down the ladder, wishing he'd waited until he was a little less hungover. The sun was reflecting off the windows, leaving him blinded by flashes of light. He closed his eyes, feeling a mounting dizziness, when sound exploded in his ears. He tried to get his bearings, but his head was pounding and other sounds like yelling and screaming filled his ears. His heart was practically climbing out of his throat, leaving him floundering until his foot slipped and the sky rushed away from him.

Ben rode his bicycle up the street and slowed when their house came into view. Their big ladder was laying on the lawn, surrounded by scattered roof tiles and a few tools. No one was around. A few days ago, he had mentioned that a few of the tiles needed replacing before winter rolled in. Michael must have taken it upon himself.

From where Ben was standing, the job looked finished, so he put his bike against the porch and proceeded to clean up the mess. After he stored the ladder in the garage, he went inside.

Hunter was in his room, sitting on the bed with his headphones on, probably blasting his latest rock song of choice. He tapped a pencil against his book, to the rhythm of whatever he was listening to, while he studied. He looked up and half-smiled at Ben before returning to what he was doing.

Leaving him alone, Ben headed for the bedroom, but got sidetracked when he heard a soft groan come from within the bathroom. He knocked. "Michael? You okay in there?"

"Yeah."

Ben opened the door, stepped into the steamy bathroom, and closed the door behind him. "I'm home," he announced unnecessarily.

"Hey," Michael drowsily responded. He was sitting in a tubful of water, eyes closed, head propped against the rim of the tub.

Ben came closer and sat on the edge of the tub. "That bath looks tempting. Mind if I join you?" He smiled when Michael opened his eyes and raised his brows with surprise. "I know. We haven't done this in a while."

"Come on in. Just be careful."

"Careful?" Ben asked, as he watched Michael try to shift and make room for him. His movements were slow and his brow was creased with pain. "What happened to you?"

"Fell off the roof," Michael said between tiny, pain-filled grunts. He leaned against the side of the tub, winded from his small movement.

"What?" Ben exclaimed. He immediately started running his hands over Michael -- first his head to check for any bumps or cracks, then his arms or legs. He found a small knot on the back of Michael's head and few reddening bruises along his back. "Where does it hurt most? Do you need to go to the hospital? Why didn't you have Hunter call an ambulance?" He checked Michael's chest just as thoroughly. "What if you cracked a rib?" He felt tense, his body poised between the two warring instincts: scoop Michael out of the tub and rush him to the hospital or stay attached at his side, in case anything happened.

"Whoa there! Really, it's not that bad. I was halfway down the ladder and my foot slipped. I'm just bruised up. I took a couple of aspirin. That and this hot bath should take care of it. And a long, long, long nap," he added with a yawn. "It's been a long morning."

Your foot slipped?" Ben rolled up his sleeves and grabbed a big bath sponge. He soaped it up and warned Michael, "I'm just going to wash your back, okay?"

"'Kay."

Michael flinched at the first touch of the sponge, but then relaxed into Ben's touch. "Yeah, it was kind of weird. I heard a bang, maybe a car backfired and I sort of, I don't know, I guess it startled me. Next thing I knew I was on the ground. Oh, that's good."

"God, Michael, you could have been seriously hurt! Didn't you have Hunter holding the ladder for you?"

"But I'm not seriously hurt. Hunter was busy doing homework. Besides, we needed a break from each other. I finally had a talk with him."

Ben wasn't very happy about the change of subject, but since Michael was so determined to downplay the accident, he let it go. He slowed his movements, carefully avoiding the bruises. "You talked to him? How was it?"

"Not as bad as I thought it would be. I think we'll be okay."

"Good," Ben said with a sigh of relief. He moved a little to reach Michael's lower back, freezing when Michael hissed in response.

"Ooh, right there," Michael said. "I think I landed on the freaking hammer."

Ben resumed his movements, concentrating on a particularly stubborn knot of muscle until he felt it ease beneath the gentle massage of his fingertips.

After a while, Michael said, "I got one other thing done."

"What's that?"

"I sent the letter to my father."

Ben dropped the sponge and rubbed at Michael's neck and back with his hand. "What did you say to him?" When Michael didn't answer right away, Ben immediately added, "You don't have to tell me. I know it's kind of personal."

"No, it's okay. I...I just told him how I was doing and thanked him for writing. And..."

"And?"

"You can find anything on the internet, these days. Danny's got a website. According to his show schedule, he'll be in Toronto when we are." Michael wiped the water dripping down his face, took a deep breath and looked up at Ben with wide, unblinking eyes. "I figured it must be a sign, so I asked him if I could visit him."

"Wow," Ben said, absorbing the import of Michael's announcement. Then realizing that his response might have been inadequate, he gave Michael an encouraging hug and kissed the top of his head. "I bet that wasn't easy to do."

"Hardest thing I ever had to write," Michael confessed. "I'm not sure what I'll do if he says yes," he said with a half-laugh.

Ben took careful note of Michael's phrasing. "'I'? You'd rather go by yourself?"

"Well, I didn't want to presume..."

Ben picked up Michael's hand from where it rested on the edge of the tub. He rubbed away the tension he felt in Michael's palm. "If Hunter is up for it, do you want us to go with you?"

Michael stared at their joined hands, lost in his own thoughts for a few moments, before nodding. "Yes, I do."

"If Hunter doesn't want to go, we can probably arrange something with Debbie and Carl to pick him up from the airport, but..." Ben waited until Michael looked him in the eye, "...no matter what, I'm there with you."

"Thanks. I've gotta admit that I'm already freaking out," Michael said with a crooked smile that appeared and disappeared in a flash.

"You? Freak out? Impossible."

Michael chuckled, then moaned and twisted to stretch his back. "That damn shaky ladder."

"Maybe it's time you got out of the tub." Ben tested the water with his hand. "Water's getting cold." And he was itching to do something to help Michael feel better.

"I'd rather not have to move, thank you." Michael settled into the tub as if he was, indeed, planning on staying there for a good long time.

Ben started a trickle of hot water running into the tub to warm it up and stroked back the wet hair strands curling across Michael's brow. He watched the furrows across Michael's brow smooth away, watched him drift into a half-sleep. Michael, with his eyes closed, found Ben's hand and held it tight in his own. "Don't worry. I'm made of tough stuff. I always bounce back."

Ben chuckled, with a surge of feeling for him. "Yes, you do."

Part 6

Michael could hardly move the next day. "It's like a full-body whiplash," he muttered, trying to get his pants on.

"Maybe you should stay home and relax," Ben suggested, taking another look at the bruises on his back and side. "You're lucky you didn't break anything."

"I won't move around too much, it'll be okay. I need to work out the kinks. How about a massage tonight...a gentle one?" Michael tipped his face up for a kiss and Ben obliged.

"Sure. I'd be glad to." Michael started to chuckle as he buckled his belt.

"What's funny?"

"I was just thinking of how it must have looked as I went over on the ladder." He started laughing harder and groaning as he held his ribs, "Oh...ha, ha... it was like one of those slow motion things." He slapped his leg, trying to stop." Oh shit, ha, ha, ha, this hurts!"

Ben was chuckling along at the sight of Michael when Hunter came by their bedroom door on his way downstairs. "What so funny?"

"Ha, ha...I fell off the roof, yesterday..." Tears were streaming down his face.

Hunter raised his eyebrows in surprise and just looked at Ben, who shrugged. "You know how his mind sometimes works. Everything's in cartoony pictures, like a comic book."

"I could have been laying dead out there, when Ben came home...ha, ha, ha... and you were up here...listening to music!" Michael gasped, hysterical with laughter.

"He must have hit his head. I'm going to make breakfast. Anyone want oatmeal?" Hunter backed out of the room, smirking, and went down the stairs.

"I do," Ben called after him.

Michael fell back on the bed, his mirth subsiding as the aches took over. He groaned, "Do you realize that we leave for Toronto in just over a week? I can't believe there's so much going on -- all this stuff with Hunter, the adoption going through, getting to see Jenny, and now Danny might call any day."

"Are you going to tell your mother that you're seeing him?"

Michael still lay prone on the bed. "There's nothing to tell, yet. What if he says he's too busy or doesn't contact me at all?"

"I think he'll call." Ben gave him a hand up as he struggled to a sitting position again.

"Well, it's nothing she needs to know. She wanted him out of her life and that's where he'll stay. But that doesn't mean I have to keep him out of mine." Ben just looked at him. Michael rolled his eyes. "Anyway, let's just wait and see if there's even anything to ever tell. Right now, I'm not saying a word, and don't you either." Ben held up his hands in complete surrender. Michael knew his warning was unnecessary. Ben would rather walk barefoot on glass than involve himself in anything between his mother and him. Too bad. He could use someone to run interference. "If it's okay with you, I'm gonna call and beg us off of dinner tonight. I didn't sleep very well and by tonight I think I'll hardly be able to move. She's gonna kill me when she finds out we can't make it to dinner tonight. I think she's got some big news."

"And she didn't tell you? Your mom's keeping secrets?"

"I know. It's so unlike her to keep quiet," Michael replied. "I guess it'll have to wait a couple of days."

Later that evening, Michael sat in bed, propped up against a hill of pillows and sweating under too many blankets. He held an enormous bowl of minestrone while he wondered who on earth would want to drink this much soup in one day.

Debbie slapped her own brow. "I forgot your tea! Be right back." She hustled out of the bedroom, leaving Michael and Ben alone.

As soon as he heard her footsteps on the stairs, Michael glared at Ben. "Why'd you tell her?"

"I thought you already did when you called her!"

"Are you kidding? Of course I didn't tell her. I knew she'd be over here in a heartbeat, smothering me with food and advice."

"You should have given me a heads up."

"A heads up about what?" Debbie asked from the doorway.

Michael and Ben were struck dumb, but Debbie hardly seemed to notice. "Honey, don't slump down like that." She handed the teacup to Ben with a warning about its scalding contents before shifting her attention to her son. "Your back'll turn into a pretzel. Here, let me..."

She fussed with the pillows, only stopping when Michael exclaimed, "Watch it! The soup!"

"You didn't finish it yet?"

"It takes me a while to drink a gallon."

"Don't be silly. It's not that much."

"Ma, I'm fine. You don't have to fuss over me. I'm sure Carl would prefer it if you were home."

"Oh, don't worry about him. Since we canceled dinner, he decided to join a few of his buddies for poker. He'll be at it all night, so I'm all yours."

"Great," Michael said with zero enthusiasm.

Debbie took the spoon from Michael's bowl and scooped up some minestrone. Before she could feed it to Michael, he took the spoon back from her and resigned himself to eating his own weight in soup.

"Seems like you'd be more careful on a ladder. You almost broke your neck before."

Ben perked up. "What's this?"

Debbie settled into a chair. "He never told you?"

"Ben doesn't want to be bored by old history."

"Oh, this actually sounds interesting, Michael."

Debbie shook her head. "I swear that he's never had a head for heights. A few years back, he almost broke his neck falling off a ladder at work. Always had two left feet," she said with a fond pat to Michael's knee.

"Ma, you're killing me with the flattery, but really--"

"And that's how he met David."

"Ma..."

"Your ex?" Ben asked of Michael.

"Yes," Debbie said. "David was a doctor."

"A chiropractor. Ben knows the story. Enough already."

"Same thing."

"It's not exactly the same. If you're gonna tell it, get the facts straight."

"And if you're going to climb on ladders, maybe you should watch where the hell you're going!"

Michael was startled by the non sequitur. "The sun was in my eyes!"

Ben became quizzical at Michael's words. "Sun? I thought you said--" Debbie's strident voice cut his question off.

"What the hell were you doing up there alone?"

Michael sagged against the pillows. "Can we save this for another day? I can feel a migraine coming on." Actually, he could see the migraine, sitting right next to his bed, with a disapproving look on her face.

"Well, I don't know why you're upset with me. I just wanted to check on you and to give you some good news."

"News?" Ben asked, hoping that the diversion would cool the situation between mother and son.

"The best news. What do we want more than anything?"

For you to leave, Michael thought. "I don't know. Peace on Earth?"

"How about if Jenny Rebecca were back in Pittsburgh?"

Michael's smile evaporated. "That isn't funny."

"It's no joke!"

"Michael," Ben said. "Let's give her a chance to talk."

"Thank you, Ben," Debbie said with a gracious nod of her head. The moment passed in a flash and then she was out of her chair, speaking with excitement, her bangles clicking away. "Carl still has his house and it's been in his family for a while, so he didn't want to sell it. I told him that he should hold onto it and rent it." She sat down again, grinning with pride.

Michael was bewildered. "So?"

"So, the girls can rent it and move back here with the kids!"

Ben was disturbed by Michael's suddenly bleak expression. "That's a wonderful idea, Debbie, but I think they're set on making a go of it in Canada."

"You think they want to freeze their asses up there, miles away from anyone who knows them? They just need some incentive."

Michael still wasn't saying anything, just stirring his soup and looking unhappy. Again, Ben tried to reign in Debbie's enthusiasm. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Have you told them about it yet? Because we can bring this up to them when we're there, but I think we need to be ready for them to turn it down."

"Phooey. Why the hell would they?"

Michael put his soup aside, leaned back and closed his eyes. "I could really use a nap," he said to no one in particular.

Debbie's jaw dropped. "Aren't you gonna say something about my idea?"

"No."

Ben decided to put an end to things. He stood and said, "It's getting late and we all have an early start in the morning. Debbie, how about if we sleep on it and we'll talk more about it before we leave?"

"Well... okay..." She stood and looked around. "If you need anything--"

"We'll call you," Ben reassured her. "Let me get your coat."

In short order, he had her out of the house and the house locked up for the night. Upon his return to the bedroom, he found Michael fast asleep.

For a couple of hours, Ben kept himself busy, grading essays until his vision went blurry and he nodded off and almost hit the desk. He called it quits and prepared for bed, all the while wishing he'd had a chance to talk to Michael. He was slipping under the covers when Michael's voice surprised him.

"Think we should bother mentioning it?"

Ben settled into place beside Michael while he considered his answer. "There is the risk of them getting upset, but if we just make the offer without any pressure--"

"They'll come running home," Michael said, his voice loaded with sarcasm.

"If we make it easy for them, they might consider." Ben touched Michael's back, feeling the renewed tension in it. "Worrying about it isn't going to change anything. I think I promised you a massage -- a gentle one."

"Yeah, you did."

"How about I do that and we sleep on it like I told your mother?"

"I'll try," Michael replied with resignation.

Ben pulled Michael to his chest, so he could reach his back for that massage. "And maybe you can tell me a little more about this thing with you and ladders."

"Oh, lord," Michael groaned, "Not that again."

The call came three days later, just as they were sitting down to dinner.

Hunter handed Michael the phone. "It's for you."

"Hello?" Michael caught Ben's eye and his face told Ben this was the call he'd been waiting for.

"Oh, ah, no. This is fine. How are you? I guess you got my letter."

As Michael walked into the living room with the phone, Ben and Hunter looked at each other, wide eyed and excited for him. They could only hear Michael's side of the conversation, but they made no pretense about not listening in, trying to figure out what was being said.

"Actually, I'd like to bring my family -- my husband and son," he was saying, "I wanted you to meet them and them you." A small smile touched Hunter's eyes at Michael's choice of words.

Michael let out a laugh. "My life never seems dull anymore, that's for sure."

"Oh, he's not little -- he's 17. That was him, who answered the phone."

"We're staying at some friends' house in Toronto. Let me give you my cell phone number and the number where we'll be, and you can call once you're there and tell us where to meet you." Michael gave Danny the phone numbers. "Well, no, our friends have only lived there a few months, so they probably don't know about the hotels all that well, but I could ask them. I don't know it at all. We've been there a few times, but we usually stick to their neighborhood."

"We'll probably get there Wednesday afternoon and head back Sunday morning -- don't want to wear out our welcome." Michael looked over at Ben for confirmation and Ben nodded that he'd assumed that as well.

"Yeah, me too. I'm really glad you called."

"Bye, Danny."

"He sounds kind of like you," Hunter remarked, as Michael returned the phone to its cradle, in the kitchen.

"You think?"

"Have you met him yet?" Hunter asked Ben, who just shook his head. "Why did you say he's going to be in Toronto? I thought he lived in New York City." Ben took a mouthful of fried rice, deciding to let Michael field this one.

"Does anyone want a glass of something?" Michael stalled from the kitchen, at a loss for words, knowing he had to tell Hunter about Davina sometime. Michael couldn't be sure if it would be her or Danny, who greeted them next week. But since Danny had been in his street clothes the last time Michael had seen him and had been referring to himself as 'Danny' to Michael, he supposed he would appear as Danny when they met him. But still, he was a little disconcerted about the whole cross-dressing thing. He didn't know enough about Danny to know which 'world' he preferred to live in. He thought Davina was his job, his stage character, but he really didn't know. At any rate, Hunter had to be prepared for which ever persona might present her/himself and it might as well be now.

"We've all got a glass of water already," Hunter informed him.

"Oh. I forgot." He spoke as he came back to the table. "Danny's a performer. He's a cabaret singer, like ah, Darrin what's his name." Now Michael took a large mouthful of his dinner, his eyes flickering over to Ben. Hunter chewed, obviously trying to remember who Darrin was, then his eyes widened a bit.

"You mean that... person who performed at Vick's Christmas Wake?!"

Michael remained mute, chewing, looking right at him.

"Your father's a drag queen?" The silence was deafening.

Ben's face grew very red, his eyes started to water and he began to cough. He pushed himself away from the table. Both Michael and Hunter looked at him with alarm, thinking he was choking, but soon it became clear that he was only at risk of choking from being unable to swallow around the convulsive laughter he was trying to hold back.

Michael just narrowed his eyes, shook his head, and held up his middle finger. Ben got up and left the table, gasping, "I'm so sorry," as he made his way to the bathroom.

True to form, Hunter just rolled his eyes heavenward and kept on eating, albeit with a smirk on his face.

"Unbelievable, isn't it?" Michael commented, still shaking his head.

He waited a few moments before continuing. "They met in high school, before he came out. He never knew my mom was pregnant until I met him a few years ago."

Ben came back to the table and sat down. Michael resumed his tale: "I think 'Davina', the female alter-ego thing, is just his stage act -- his business, but I really don't know. I don't know him at all. He seems like a regular guy when he gets out of costume." Hunter said nothing.

"If you don't want to meet him, you don't have to." Hunter looked up, surprised. "I mean if you think you'd be uncomfortable..."

"Why wouldn't I want to meet my future grandfather?"

Michael just shrugged and gave him a grateful smile. "For now, don't mention any of this to your future grandmother."

Hunter nodded his head. "Got'cha."

Gus opened the door and Michael squatted down, holding his arms out, not sure if the boy would remember him well enough for the familiarity of a hug, but offering it, nonetheless. Gus grinned and walked into his arms, turning his head shyly.

"Hey, Gus, how are you, buddy?" Michael bussed his cheek and picked him up, walking into Lindsay's embrace, with the boy in his arms. Gus struggled to get down as Michael moved further into the room, making way for to Ben and Hunter to get their hugs.

"Mel and J.R. are in the kitchen," Lindsay said. "I don't think they heard Gus say you were here."

"We heard. We just had to clean up a little," Mel said as she came in carrying Jenny, whose cheeks were bright red, having just had her face wiped clean of banana. "Look who's here, honey. It's your daddy." Mel held her out to Michael, who was beaming, with outstretched arms.

"Here's my sweetheart! Geez, she's gotten so big!" Michael kissed her neck and held her so she could see Mel, afraid she'd cry. "Look at her, Ben!"

Ben said, "Hey, you," and took her little hand. Jenny looked at him with big brown eyes, smiled, then just as quickly, whipped her head around squealing and reached for Mel. Michael gave her back.

"We're so glad you're all here! Come sit. Have you had lunch? How was the drive?" Lindsay ushered them into the living room, which was strewn with an assortment of baby toys and Gus's building things.

They spent the next two hours doing a quick catch up on everyone, bringing in their things from the car, and sorting out who was sleeping where. Once that was done, Gus latched on to Hunter, wanting to show him his room and all his stuff.

Michael sat next to Mel on the couch and Ben sat in a nearby chair as they took turns helping Jenny Rebecca travel back and forth. She was almost a year old now and pretty active, holding on to knees and furniture legs to get around, crawling when nothing for support presented itself. Every time she'd head out of the room, Ben or Michael would make a game out of going after her and bringing her back, walking, upside down, or flying through the air, giggling or protesting.

"Why don't I put the fence up in the doorway so she can't get out?" Lindsay suggested.

"No, I don't mind getting her," Michael said, as he got up for what seemed like the hundredth time to fetch her. "Do you, Ben?"

"Nope. We just like to hold her and right now this seems like the only way."

"You wouldn't say that if you were with her all the time..." Mel said before realizing how that might sound to them.

Lindsay shot her a look and tried to cover the blunder. "Mel, it's almost 2:30, why don't I fix her a snack and put her down for a nap. I'm sure she's tuckered out. Do you think Hunter would like something?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," Ben answered.

"I'll go ask him and Gus -- see what those two are up to," Michael said before heading up the stairs.

"I'm sorry. That was thoughtless of me," Mel said to Ben, when the others had left the room. "I'm so used to just blurting that she tires us out."

"We realize that. It's just a little tender, especially right now. We miss her -- he does especially -- and she's changing so much each time we see her. He's always worried that she doesn't remember him."

"Wait 'till you see the fridge and her room. Your faces are everywhere. We read those stories he writes all of the time -- they're Gus' favorites -- and we talk about him... but I know it's not the same."

Ben wanted to move on. It was a tough situation for all of them and he and Michael were there for only a few days. He didn't want the visit to be tense. "So, are you happy here? Glad you made the move?" He watched a multitude of expressions cross her face while she contemplated her answer.

Finally, she smiled tiredly and said, "That question deserves a cup of coffee and a comfortable seat. Are you sure you're up for it?"

Her prologue didn't sound promising, but since he'd asked, it was a little late to retract the question. "I take my coffee black with two sugars."

Hyped up by the extra guests and attention, Jenny was hard to pin down. Filling the room with her high-pitched giggles, she evaded Lindsay and Michael's hands, dropped to a crawl and wriggled under Gus' bed.

A moment later, her face popped out under the far edge, close to where Hunter and Gus were constructing an elaborate and futuristic building out of multicolored Lego bricks.

"Gus," Lindsay called.

The little boy turned around and caught sight of his sister peering out from under the bed. He dropped his handful of Lego bricks and made a dive for Jenny, who squealed and tried to retreat, without success. "Got her, Mommy!"

Jenny, protesting Gus' rough handling, looked towards Lindsay and started whimpering while her eyes filled with tears.

Michael gave Lindsay a silent look, asking without words. Lindsay nodded and took a step back

Crouched at Gus' side, Michael said quietly, "You can let her go, now. I've got her."

Whether it was relief or exhaustion setting in, Jenny fell into Michael's arms and sighed deeply when he picked her up and held her close. Her thumb found it's way into her mouth and she looked around the room, with drowsy eyes that fought to stay wide open.

"Think she'll stay awake long enough to get that snack?" Michael asked.

"I doubt it. Which means she'll wake up hungry and crabby."

"I can feed her, if you'd like."

"Oh, of course, Michael! Whatever you want."

He gave her a long look, but he didn't say that what he really wanted was to be able to do this type of thing all the time: cleaning up the mess, dealing with her crabbiness... even changing the dirty diapers. He could feel the tight, dry feeling of his eyes and how his hands shook a little. Jenny squirmed in his hold, so Michael had to take a deep breath and let go of this urge to start making demands. He had promised himself that he would approach them calmly. Lindsay was staring at him, quiet, contemplative... waiting. At the last second, Michael backed down. Any confrontation could wait until they had a chance to talk alone.

He turned away from her. "Hunter? Gus? We came up here to ask if you two are hungry."

"I am!" Gus said and jumped up and ran to Lindsay. "Mommy, Hunter wants cookies and milk! And grilled cheese."

Lindsay smiled at him with fondness and brushed a gentle hand over his hair. "Is that right?"

"Uh huh," Gus replied with an emphatic nod.

"Well, it's a good thing those are your favorites, too, isn't it?"

"It's a co... co..." He scrunched up his face and yanked on the hem of Lindsay's shirt. "What is it?"

"A coincidence, honey. Okay, let's go to the kitchen and get your snacks. Hunter? You coming?"

"Sure. In a minute." Hunter started picking up the toys that were strewn around the small play table.

"Oh, you don't have to do that!" Lindsay exclaimed.

"No problem. It'll only take a sec. I'll be right down."

"Okay, thank you." To Gus, she said, "Come on, young man. It's time to wash your hands." She led Gus out of the room, ignoring his grumbling and whining.

It only took a couple of minutes to pile all the toys into Gus' toy trunk. He watched Michael cuddling the baby. "I think she's asleep."

Michael tried to look without jostling her too much. "Yup," he whispered. He dared to hold her a little tighter against his shoulder. "I guess I should put her down," he said with reluctance.

"Her crib's still in the next room," Hunter said, walking to a door that Gus' room to the nursery.

Michael followed him in and, after Hunter turned down the blanket, tucked Jenny into her crib. Hunter drew the shades, then walked around the room, examining the pictures that decorated the walls. "Hey, this one's of me!"

"Yeah, we've been sending pictures every month."

"Lots of new ones of you and Ben, too," Hunter noted. "Looks like you mailed 'em a whole album." He made a circuit around the nursery until he came back to Michael's side. "You must miss her a whole bunch."

"More than I ever imagined," Michael admitted. Jenny stirred and Michael immediately resumed rubbing soft circles on her back while she settled.

Hunter leaned his folded his arms against the crib railing and propped his chin up. "Can't remember seeing family pictures when I was a little kid. Can't remember much at all. Except chicken soup."

"Chicken soup?"

"Yeah, I think our neighbor used to babysit me and her place always smelled like chicken soup." His eyes lost focus. "And when it was cold, she'd make hot chocolate with marshmallows. Real ones."

"Whatever happened to her?" Michael asked, while getting over his surprise that Hunter actually had some good memories from his childhood.

"Don't know." Hunter straightened up and stepped away from the kid. "One night, my mom packed all our stuff and we snuck out of our apartment. We always made tracks whenever Rita couldn't swing the rent -- and I kept asking about our neighbor..." He kicked at a small toy truck that one of the children had left in the middle of the room and watched it tumble across the floor. "I think her name was Mrs. Duncan. Anyway, one day my mother said she was dead. I don't know if was true. I think she just got sick of me asking."

"I'm sorry."

"No big deal. It was a long time ago and she was just some neighbor."

But to Michael, it was a big deal, and to Hunter, too, he was sure. Why else dredge up such an old memory? He wanted to tell him how he wished he and Ben had been able to find him years ago, before everything -- wished they could have given him more good memories. But looking at the crib, he realized the words were pointless. Can't even be there when I promised myself I would. Maybe some day Jenny would look around her room and these pictures would be all she would remember of him, just like Hunter's faded memories of chicken soup.

Michael suddenly needed to get out of this room and its monument to his absence. "Come on. All this talk about food is making me hungry." They left Jenny's room and headed back to the others.

"I see," was all Ben could say after listening to Melanie's outpouring. "I hope our being here isn't an imposition."

"Oh no. All that stuff is behind us. We're doing okay. But what about you?" Melanie asked. She looked at Ben with serious eyes. "Is this weekend going to be a problem?"

"Of course not. We've been looking forward to this."

"I only ask because Michael seems sort of... on edge."

"All three of us are, to tell the truth. There's been some family stuff going on back home that we have to deal with."

"Nothing too serious, I hope."

"Serious enough, but manageable. We're dealing with it." Ben smiled. "None of us can skate through life without facing some challenges, right? Even under the best of circumstances."

"No kidding. We never expected this move to be perfect. We've had to make adjustments and it's hard being away from our friends and family." Melanie's face became pinched. "I just wish it didn't feel like people are waiting for us to fail."

As she spoke, Ben really looked at Melanie. For the first time during this visit, he saw how she had changed--her face a little thinner, a few extra lines at the corners of her eyes, an air of fatigue that bowed her shoulders--not a lot, but noticeable. He felt guilty adding to her burden, but some things needed to be said. "No one wants to make life more difficult for you and Lindsay. We care about you and want you all to be happy, but you're not the only ones who have to adjust. I just hope you can see our side of it and have a little patience, I guess."

She fiddled with her coffee which had remained untouched during their conversation. "We've been trying to. We know that Michael's not totally happy with this, but..." She shrugged. "We all have to keep trying. In spite of everyone else's doubts, Lindsay and I still believe we needed to do this."

Before either of them could say more, Lindsay breezed into the kitchen with Gus skipping at her side.

"I'm starved," she announced, "and Gus came up with a brilliant menu."

All traces of the seriousness of a moment ago disappeared from Melanie's face. She grinned. "Don't tell me. Grilled cheese?"

"Yeah!" Gus said with bubbly cheer. He raced to the fridge and flung its door open hard enough to make a loud crack against the counter.

Ben steered the little boy away from the kitchen appliances and kept him occupied with a piece of paper and a handful of crayons, while Mel and Lindsay puttered around the kitchen, preparing the sandwiches, tomato soup, and green salad. The conversation returned to mundane things: how often it had snowed and how driving had become more of an adventure than Mel or Lindsay cared for; how Babylon had reopened and was thriving, how the children had enjoyed going for their first (and likely last) camping trip the month prior.

Lindsay was in the middle of regaling them with a story about a curious bear cub when Michael and Hunter came into the kitchen. Michael made her start from the beginning, laughed in all the right places, and added a wildlife story of his own, from one of his childhood summer trips to the Poconos. They were all laughing to the point of tears when Jenny's sharp, distraught cries reached them.

"Guess she wasn't ready for that nap," Michael said. He rescued her from her room and sat her on his lap, where she happily settled for her meal, getting almost as much food on herself and her father as she did in her mouth.

Ben noticed that despite Michael's genuine happiness with Jenny, his manner had cooled a little toward Mel and Lindsay. His voice seemed forced and his smiles didn't always reach his eyes. After dinner, Ben thanked their hosts and asked Michael, "Are you up to a little walk around the block?"

"I wanted to help put Jenny to bed."

Mel stood. "We moved stuff around a little, since you're last visit. Let me show you."

"Thanks."

"After?" Ben asked Michael.

"Sure. Give me half an hour or so."

Melanie warned them, "Since she's all revved up, you might want to make that an hour."

"No problem," Michael said, with the tiniest hints of defiance ] in his voice. He carried Jenny out of the kitchen, with Mel walking closely behind.

Part 7

The streets were dark and quiet, highlighting the hollow echo of their footsteps. "Neighborhood hasn't changed much," Ben commented.

"Yeah."

"Except it looks like they added a new jungle gym to that park."

"Uh huh."

"Maybe we could take the kids down there after breakfast. Jenny's big enough, now, to..." Ben could have kicked himself when he saw Michael's pained expression at that offhand observation. He quickly continued, "and remember how much Gus likes the swings?"

"Gus has school tomorrow" Michael said dully.

Michael's pace doubled and Ben had to break into a small jog to keep up. "I just wanted to get some fresh air, not prepare for a marathon."

"Sorry." Michael slowed down, but he still seemed so far away, enveloped in his own misery.

"I didn't think it would be so cold this time of year, did you?"

"I hate to be a wet blanket, but can we just not talk for a while?"

"We've been doing a lot of that."

Michael halted and faced Ben. "What do you want from me? Everyone keeps looking at me like I'm some ticking bomb! I hate this, okay. It sucks!"

"I know."

"And I just want to march back to that house and make them come back to Pittsburgh!"

"I know."

"Stop saying that!"

Ben replied honestly, "I don't know what else to say... except that I'm with you on all this."

Michael nodded jerkily and expelled a shaky breath. "I don't think I could stand this, otherwise."

Ben wrapped his arms around Michael and wished for the ability to manipulate time--turn it back to those moments before the bombing and Melanie and Lindsay's big move, and the snafus in the adoption, but after the bitter custody trial that had nearly ripped them all apart. Somewhere in that brief interim, they'd been happy.

Michael's voice was muffled against Ben's jacket. "Maybe they secretly hate it here and we can talk them into coming back."

Ben rubbed Michael's back. "They've been having some problems, but they seem to be handling it."

Michael leaned back. "What? What problems? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just found out. I was talking to Mel while you were upstairs." Ben winced when Michael's hold around his waist tightened painfully.

"What did she say?"

"Let's walk while I tell you this." Ben held Michael close against his side, for comfort as much as for warmth. "It took a while for Melanie to get all her papers in order so she could practice law here."

"But she's been working, hasn't she? She said she had a job with some law firm."

"That's true, but she started as a sort of legal assistant. By the time she was certified, the position they had offered her dried up."

"Oh shit."

"She's got a few prospects lined up and a couple of them seem very promising, but in the meanwhile, they still have to deal with house payments and other bills."

"I knew it," Michael spat. "I had a feeling she was dodging my questions, but I figured it was because she thought I was prying."

"They haven't been on the brink of starvation--just having to tighten their belts. We've been there ourselves," Ben pointed out.

"But not when we're living in a foreign country, where we refuse help that's offered." His face settled into grim lines. "So, what other disasters are they hiding?"

"Michael..." Ben hesitated. "Maybe I should let them tell you the rest."

"No way! She had to know you would tell me. Just spit it out."

"Okay, but try not to overreact."

Michael frowned with suspicion. "Overreact to what?"

"There was an... incident... with one of the neighbors." Ben chanced a look at Michael and was unsurprised to find that his husband's cheeks had gone red and his eyes were spitting flames. He wanted to tell Michael to calm down, but he had a feeling those words would set him off even more. "It was only one neighbor. It was nothing but words, but it seems that this person didn't care for what was 'going on' in the house."

"And?"

"And she reported them to some child welfare bureau." With that, Michael was off, yanking away from Ben to make an about face and storm back to the house, muttering curses and dire warnings with every few steps. Ben tried to catch up to him, but Michael shrugged him off and only shook his head at all of Ben's entreaties.

Before Ben knew it, they were in the front yard. "Nothing happened! Michael, don't make a scene!"

"Why not? That's just the kind of crappy thing they thought they were leaving, when they moved here. They might as well move home!" Michael shouted.

He felt low using the kids against Michael, but it was either that or stand ringside while this whole weekend imploded. "If you go in there with guns blazing, you're going to upset the kids!" Just as Ben anticipated, the thought of scaring the kids cooled Michael's temper down like a dash of cold water.

"I can't just let this go," Michael said hoarsely.

"I'm not saying you should, but maybe wait until you're not so upset? They have the advantage. Nothing good can come of putting them on the defensive. Before approaching them, we can talk about it. Maybe there's some compromise we can come up with."

"I'm sick of compromising! I don't want to compromise anymore. I want her back."

Ben stopped short. Surely Michael couldn't mean that literally. "You want to take her away from her mother?" A flash of--something--went through Michael's eyes, but then Michael was shaking his head in denial.

"I would never do that. The custody thing was hell and it would have been a disaster. To do that again... They love her and it wouldn't change anything except our roles would be reversed." Michael's eyes flitted between Ben and the front door. His hands clenched at his side and he pounded on his thigh, just once, but hard enough that Ben winced in empathy. "Fuck!

"Wait 'til Danny finds out what a mess my life is. He'll probably be relieved my mom didn't tell him about me."

"Mess? This is our life, and I don't think it's that much of a mess. Maybe a little untidy, but no worse than anyone else." When Michael didn't say anything, Ben said, "Even with all we've been through, my life is definitely better with you in it. Danny would be a fool not to feel the same."

Michael shrugged and turned away, burying his hands a little deeper in his pockets and curling his shoulders so he seemed to shrink on himself.

"Let's go inside, okay?" Ben waited until Michael started walking to the door, then followed him in.

They must have been out longer than they thought because the house was quiet and only a small lamp burned in the living room. But a flicker of bluish light came from the den. They peeked in and discovered Mel and Lindsay cuddled on the couch, in front of the glow of the television.

"We're back," Michael said. His voice was surprisingly calm. "Hope we didn't keep you up."

"Oh no. Gus suckered Hunter into reading him a bedtime story and Jenny's asleep. Mel and I figured we'd catch a movie. Want to join us? We made popcorn."

He looked at Ben for confirmation before telling them, "No thanks. We were going to turn in early. Traveling must have worn us out."

"We left extra blankets in the bedroom and towels in the bathroom. If you need anything, just let us know."

"We will," Ben replied.

"One thing," Michael said. "What time do the kids usually get up?"

"Around seven. Why?" Melanie asked. "Did you want to do something early?"

"Actually, I thought it would be nice if we could have some grownup talk without the kids underfoot." His mouth widened and his teeth flashed white and it almost looked like a convincing smile.

Ben waited for either Melanie or Lindsay to respond to Michael's obvious strain. They both looked concerned, but only politely agreed to meet early in the morning.

"Have a good night, you two. See you in the morning," Lindsay said gently.

After getting ready for bed, Ben sat in the guest room's small love seat and waited for Michael to finish brushing his teeth, so they could talk and come up with some sort of game plan. He didn't know how tired he was until the creak of the floor woke him up, followed by the shift of the cushions when Michael sat beside him. He opened his eyes when he felt the weight and softness of a blanket cover him. "I should get in bed," he said, though he felt too heavy and slow to move.

"I'm not ready to sleep yet," Michael said in a low voice. With one hand, he rubbed Ben's thigh. "Too worked up."

A rush of heat swept through Ben, starting where the heat of Michael's hand seeped through his pajama pants and spreading like quicksilver to every point of contact between his and Michael's bodies. He dropped a hand to Michael's head, combing through the thick strands with his fingers, until Michael leaned more heavily against him. Their warmth mingled under the blanket, taking the edge off his desire and leaving Ben lax and sleepy. "Sorry. I didn't mean to doze off on you."

"It's okay," Michael whispered. He snuggled close against Ben's side. "Do you mind? I'm cold." He tucked his free hand against Ben's waist.

Ben slid a little further down the chair, so they were face-to-face. "Want me to warm you up?"

"Please," Michael said, the politeness of the word at odds with the subtle demand in his tone.

Michael's cheeks were like ice against Ben's face, but his mouth was as warm as ever against Ben's mouth, gentle despite his earlier anger. Ben sipped at the traces of mint from Michael's toothpaste. So sweet that it made him feel happy and sad, all at once, and want to hold on and never let go.

Ben waited for it to turn quick and furious, but Michael had different ideas. He took his time, licking at Ben's lips, sucking on his tongue, undulating against Ben's body until the heat under the blanket became nearly unbearable.

"Touch me," Michael gasped, but his impatience didn't let him wait. He took Ben's hand in his and drew it to his crotch, grinding against Ben's palm with desperation. "Please," he said, begging this time, in a voice that had gone thin and breathless.

In the back of Ben's mind, niggled a small thought that they should be quiet. The house was small and carried sound all too well. But with Michael moaning and urging him on, that thought became less and less important until Ben didn't remember thinking it at all.

"I didn't unpack everything yet," he said. He tried to slide away from Michael. "Just let me get..."

Michael made a wordless sound of protest and only held him tighter. In a lightning fast move, he straddled Ben's lap, clutched his waist and kept rubbing their bodies together. "Wait... I'm almost... Don't go away yet."

Ben cupped Michael's face with both hands and kissed him--a long, lingering taste that left him tingling from head to foot. "I'm not going anywhere," he said fiercely against Michael's mouth. If they had a little more time... but Hunter would be coming to bed soon, so this was their window of opportunity. He leaned his head against the back of the love seat, held Michael by the hips and let him take what he needed. Afterwards, he could worry about the reason Michael was so frantic and about how tomorrow morning would go. For now, he wanted to pretend that this moment was all that mattered.

In the next room, a heavy lidded Gus was trying not to close his eyes while Hunter read a story about two mice who rescue a neglected dog. It was a homemade book, written and illustrated by Michael Novotny. The laminated pages were well used -- curled and stained by small, grimy fingers. Hunter got a kick out of the crude drawings. Michael was no Justin, but there was something sweet in the expressions of the mice. It was kind of cool that he did this for the kids.

Hunter slowly became aware of low sounds, indistinct words, carrying through the thin wall that Gus's bed was against.

"What's that?" Gus asked, hearing the sounds, but still half asleep.

"That's Uncle Michael and Uncle Ben getting ready for bed. They're just talking about how their day went, like you and your mom do." There was a thump of furniture bumping the wall, and what Hunter knew was Michael's pleasured moan, then muffled sounds again. "Now they're moving some stuff around to set my bed up, so I can sleep there too."

"Why can't you sleep in here with me?"

"Maybe tomorrow night. Now do you want me to finish this?" Hunter read a little louder, hoping Gus wouldn't ask more questions about the noises.

"Is Uncle Mikey and Uncle Ben your uncles too?"

Hunter hesitated only a moment, "No. They're my dads."

"Do you see my dad?"

"Brian? Yeah, sometimes. Not very much."

"Me either." Gus said, sadly.

"Mel, it's almost six. Michael and Ben must be up already. I smell coffee," Lindsay murmured, sitting next to the sleeping form. Mel rolled over and groaned. "I've had my shower. I'll go down and keep them company while you get ready for work."

"Morning."

"Morning, Ben. How'd you guys sleep?"

"Great."

"Do you think Hunter did okay on the floor? I wish we had another room."

"I think we'd have trouble finding a place for all of you in our house, too. The sleeping bag and camping pad is fine. He was sawing logs when we left him. Coffee?" Ben was pouring himself and Michael a second cup. Michael was fiddling with a screwdriver at the back door, trying to reattach the doorknob which had come off in his hand a few moments earlier. He looked apologetically at her.

"Oh, that damn thing. It's so old. I've asked the landlord to replace the entire knob and lock mechanism, but he just keeps putting that one back on and it only lasts a few weeks before it's off again.

"Yeah, it's pretty much worn out. There's nothing much left of this nub for the screw to grab hold of."

"Leave it. I'll call him, later. This whole house is falling down, from disrepair, but we like the neighborhood. Well, we like the park, so we're hoping to find something better to rent or buy."

"What time does Mel have to leave for work?" Michael asked to cover his alarm at the thought of them becoming further committed to the move by buying a home here.

"At seven thirty. She carpools with a group from the office. She'll be down in a few minutes."

"There. That might hold for a little while, if no one pulls too hard on it." Michael got the knob reattached, just as Mel came into the kitchen. He went back and sat at the table.

"I'll just get my breakfast and make a lunch while we talk," she launched right in. "The kids will be up soon and it gets pretty hectic. Then I'll have to leave. So, what's up?"

Michael picked the less difficult of the topics to start with. "Well, a couple of things. You remember that picture of my father on the mantle at my mom's place?"

She turned, exchanging puzzled looks with Lindsay. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Turns out, that isn't my dad. It's a long story, but my dad is alive and he happens to be here in Toronto this weekend, on business."

"Oh my gosh, Michael!" Lindsay burst out.

Michael rolled his eyes and shook his head, "I know, it's surreal, but we have a plan to meet up with him, probably on Saturday." He stopped for a moment, then continued, "He'll be calling here, to tell us what hotel he's in, today or tomorrow. I'd like to bring Jenny Rebecca with us, so he could see her, since he's, you know, her... grandfather."

The girls looked at each other. Michael went on. "It would only be for a couple of hours, tops."

Mel's discomfort was immediately obvious. "You mean you and Ben want to take her? We've never let anyone else take her in their car before."

"We'll use the car seat. We used to take her when she was little..." Michael began.

"Well, I mean since we moved here. You don't really know the city or this guy..."

"I'm sure it will be fine." Lindsay waded in, as the tension wafted into the room. "Let us just get used to the idea. We can figure out the details later. This must be so exciting for you. When did you meet him? How did you find out?"

"It was a couple of years ago. I've never met him either," Ben answered, as he could see that Michael was staring at Melanie, struggling to remain cool. She'd turned back to making her breakfast. Damn it. Nothing was ever easy with Mel. Ben continued, "We can tell you more of the story later, tonight, but time's running out here this morning and we also wanted you both to be thinking about something else that has come up."

Ben glanced over at Michael, who very evenly stated, "Carl Horvath needs to do something with his house. He realizes that my mom is never going to leave hers, and his is just sitting there full of his stuff, but vacant."

"We've all been working on Deb to go ahead and marry him, and give up this marriage protest thing. It doesn't really have an impact on the powers that be and it doesn't make good financial sense for them," Ben filled in.

Lindsey and Mel looked at each other again. "What does that have to do with us?" Mel asked around a bite of peanut butter and banana toast.

"Carl doesn't want to be a landlord, but he said he'd work with you if you wanted to rent or buy it. He'd even rent to you with the intent to own, if you needed time to try it out," Michael answered.

"We've barely been here six months," Mel defended.

"But do you both feel like your reasons are still as compelling as they were?" Ben asked gently, hoping to avoid tempers flaring. "Given the incident with the neighbor and the struggle you've had getting good paying jobs, we just wanted you to hear of the opportunity. Because we would do anything we could to help you get settled back in the Pitts."

"I knew you were going to try to pressure us," Melanie shot at Michael.

"Look, I was barely out of the hospital from being blown up, when you made me decide to let her go. Talk about pressure!"

Melanie looked shocked. "Are you suggesting that we used that tragedy against you?"

"Not intentionally, no, but we were all scared. If I'd had a few more months, even weeks, I don't think I'd have said yes, and I don't think you would have wanted to leave.

"Christ, Mel, this is such a good offer to help you resettle, to come back home, into a house, a nice house. It doesn't mean you've failed at anything, if you decide to move back. All of your friends and family--we miss you. What the hell are you trying to prove?"

Melanie looked at Lindsay for support, but Lindsay didn't meet her eyes. Everyone was silent for a moment.

Michael lowered his voice. "Yes, I desperately want you to move back. This visiting every few weeks is only marginally workable, at best, for all of us. We're in your way, it's not often enough for me, but it's too often for you and it's hard on us all. We're all on eggshells, trying not to offend. It's no one's fault. I really have tried to feel okay about it, but I don't. I know you're both doing everything you can to keep us real in JR's mind, but it's not working. You said I'd be her father. That's all I want. Just think about Carl's offer. That's all I'm asking."

Gus came into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. "Jenny's crying, Mommy."

"Would you like to get her, Michael?" Lindsay asked. He stood and headed for the stairs.

Ben felt sure there was a routine here that was being interrupted, and a conversation that needed to start, so he opted for getting out of the way. "I'm going to go look for a newspaper. Isn't there a little store about three blocks that way?" he pointed.

Lindsay shook her head, "It's not open this early. But there's a gas station one block further that has a couple of newspaper stands in front of it."

"I'll just tell Michael where I'm going."

Upstairs, Michael was wiping Jenny dry and trying to pin her into a clean diaper. The front of his tee shirt was soaking wet and Jenny was fussing loudly.

"Do you need a hand?"

"God, yes. Could you rinse and get rid of this wash cloth? Drop it in the bucket next to the toilet. I tried to clean her up, but she's wiggling all over the place and I made a mess in the bathroom. This is all going so well, isn't it? It's our first full day of three and we're already... Ouch!" he poked himself with a diaper pin.

Ben deposited the soiled washcloth in the diaper pail and used a towel to wipe up the bathroom counter and floor. He came back just in time to see the baby powder fly off of the changing table.

"Wow! Did you see her fling that? I tried Ben. Was I demanding? Was I accusing? Jenny, honey, we're almost done." Michael had gotten the diaper pinned and the rubber pants on her, but she was working herself into a real fit. "Want to hold her while I look for clothes?"

Ben picked up the poor, angry child and tried to sooth her, cooing and speaking softly, but she would have none of it.

"Jenny, Jenny, Jenny," Gus came into the room singing her name and she stopped yelling long enough to take a couple of breaths. "Mommy said to come help you." Gus grinned up at Ben, and held Jenny's kicking foot.

Ben squatted and let her down to grab on to her brother. He made goofy faces and her tear streaked one broke into a sniffly smile. "Ma, ma, ma," she fussed at him.

"Gus, my man!" Ben high-fived him, as Michael came over with her shirt and pants. He slipped the top over her head, and Ben maneuvered her chubby arms into the sleeves, which got her angry again, but not for long.

"Enough," Michael said. "Let's go find mommy, okay? She'll put your pants on. Jeez, I'm sweating bullets! I need a shower."

They met Melanie coming up the stairs. "I've got to run. My ride is here. Give me a kiss, Gus, bye-bye, sweetie." She kissed both children. "See you all tonight." She waved back at Ben and Michael."

"Bye," they both called to her retreating form. When she realized that her mother was not going to rescue her, Jenny Rebecca started crying again.

They all made their way to the kitchen, where Lindsay had some breakfast waiting for both children. "Oh, what's the matter, little one?" She snuggled JR, who calmed immediately, and put her in her highchair. Michael draped the tiny pants over the back of another chair and fell into the seat, with a great show of exhaustion.

"Well, that was a bonding experience," he said grimly.

Lindsay started to chuckle. "She hates the morning wash-up and dress-up routine. It was mean to put you through it, but Mel made me promise I'd offer it to you." Her eyes sparkled, mischievously.

Ben's face split into a grin, "Oh, really!?"

"What? I can't hear you very well. I think I've gone deaf in this ear," Michael said, shaking his head, but smiling at Lindsay's playfulness. Most likely it was the truth, meant to show him that parenting wasn't all hugs and kisses. While part of him resented that, another part had to admit that the fiasco upstairs was disconcerting, even though he knew that it would have gone more smoothly if they'd had some practice and a routine down with JR.

"I can't believe Hunter slept through that," Lindsay marveled.

Ben chuckled. "It may have roused him, but only partially. We won't see him until at least nine, nine-thirty."

"So, before we leave this mornings topic, completely, I suppose the old divide and conquer strategy wouldn't work on you, huh?" Michael asked.

"Do you mean to get me on your side, so I'll chip away at Mel for you? No way. Don't do it. I will tell you this--she and I will be talking about it. It's no secret that things have not gone as planned here."

"Okay." He looked at Ben. "I'm thinking you'd like to take a run or something, right about now."

Ben squeezed his knee. "You know me so well. Want to come?"

"No, thanks." He gave him a 'not in this life' look. Michael hated jogging. "I'll stay and see what Hunter's up for today. We should make an effort to find something fun for him to do. Gus has to go to school, right?"

"Yup. Speaking of school, you'd better finish up your toast and go get dressed, honey." Gus nodded and shoved his toast into his mouth.

"Can I take a shower?" Michael asked.

"Sure. I'll finish with Jenny and then we'll walk Gus to school. Ben, want to eat something before you go?"

"No, I'll get a bite after my run." He kissed Michael. "I might not get back for the walk to school." Michael nodded that he knew as much.

Ben headed out and Michael lightly poked Gus in the ribs. "Come show me what you're gonna wear today."

Lindsay watched them go, suddenly missing Brian, realizing she hadn't even asked Michael about him yet. She knew she could admit that the move had been impetuous and was ready to go back to the states. This house of Carl's might just be the 'practical' solution to their problem. Mel had to consider it. She just had to.

Part 8

"But you can go to the mall any time," Michael protested to Hunter. "I think we can find something more interesting to do."

Hunter shrugged and shoveled a mouthful of cornflakes into his mouth, mumbling around it some garbled words that sounded like: "That's okay. I can go by myself."

"No way. This isn't Pittsburgh."

Hunter gulped down his hastily chewed cereal and said, "Don't worry. If a stranger comes up to me, I'll shout 'no' really loud and run away."

"Don't be such a smartass," Ben warned. "This is a family trip and we're staying together."

"Oh, come on! I only asked for one thing."

Michael and Ben looked at each other for support. "He did keep Gus company for a good part of the day," Michael admitted.

"True," Ben said. "And he only snored half as loud as he usually does."

Hunter was obviously trying not to look too eager, but failing miserably.

"How about this?" Michael asked. "We go to the mall together, but split up for a couple of hours. You swear on your life that you won't get into trouble and you can have a couple hours free from us old folks."

"Sweet!" Hunter said with a smile. He started eating faster. "What time?" he asked between inhalations of his breakfast.

"Never if you choke to death at the breakfast table."

Hunter obediently slowed down. "I'm gonna need a little cash to spend."

Ben gave him a 'cautioning look. "Twenty dollars. No, don't complain or it goes down to fifteen."

Hunter pouted, but kept quiet.

Michael turned to Lindsay, who had been quietly sitting and listening. "Would you like to join us?"

"Me?" She sighed. "I really wish I could, but I'm a little swamped. There's so much stuff to do in the house and I have a proposal I need to finish up for my supervisor at work. We're applying for funding for our summer exhibit."

"Oh," Michael said. "I didn't realize. We probably can't help with the proposal, but some of the household things..."

Lindsay's face flushed pink. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed. "I wasn't trying to enlist you. Please, go out and have some fun. You don't want to be stuck in the house doing chores."

"It's still pretty early," Ben said. "If we all chip in for a couple of hours, we can get a lot done and still have time to get out of your hair for a few hours. And we could take Jenny with us."

"I don't know..." Lindsay said, looking between them.

"Or," Hunter injected with dramatic flair. "I could go by myself and you all can spend some quality time together."

"Nice try, Hunter, but the answer's still no." Ben's tone brooked no further argument.

"Had to give it a shot," Hunter replied with casual acceptance.

In the end, they plowed away at the bulk of the housework: mostly cleaning up after the children, a few minor repairs (Michael jokingly explained why he refused to climb any ladders), a ton of laundry, and a few odds and ends. Throughout, Lindsay was mostly quiet until even Michael stopped chattering and focused on getting the work done. By the time he had washed the last dish, Jenny had been fed and dressed and was ready for her trip to the mall.

Lindsay waved them goodbye, then sank into the sofa, head in her hands, overcome by a wave of fatigue. After allowing herself to wallow for a few minutes, she pulled her phone from her pocket and checked her messages. Four phone calls and all of them were from Melanie. I wonder how long I can put this off, she thought. She'd much rather work on that proposal than start another conversation fraught with emotion.

Actually, she'd rather scrub the grout in the bathroom than make this call. She gave a passing thought to calling back home. She missed being able to bounce her frustrations off a willing sounding board like Brian or Debbie or some of her other friends.

But that was the whole point, wasn't it? It still felt like home was the place they had left behind. She dialed the number and wasn't surprised when Melanie picked up on the second ring and barked, "What the hell took you so long?"

Lindsay pursed her lips. She was not going to blow up, even if it killed her. Instead, she recited the words to one of her favorite poems and let her anger simmer down.

The silence must have clued Melanie in. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay," Lindsay said magnanimously. "They just left to do some shopping and sightseeing. They should be back in the afternoon."

"Why didn't you go with them? Didn't you say you needed a pair of shoes?"

"I don't get my check until next week."

"I told you I'd cover it."

"And I told you I'm not spending money we don't have." Melanie swore under her breath, prompting Lindsay to continue. "I'm still on probation and we don't have much of a nest egg if this funding doesn't come through and they start cutting staff."

"I know."

"I assume the main reason you've been calling is to discuss what Michael and Ben proposed."

Melanie's outrage was nearly palpable. "Can you believe the fucking gall of those two to sit in our house and start doling out demands?"

"They weren't exactly demands..."

"Well, that makes it so much better," Melanie spat. "Why don't we just give them J.R. and call it a day?"

"My God, Melanie, will you get a grip?"

"As soon as you stop bending over backward to make them happy! I thought, for once, that we were seeing things eye-to-eye. Now you want to pack it in and run back to Pittsburgh just because Michael freaks out?"

"I'm not the one who freaked them out. If I recall correctly, you did that."

"I only said those things to Ben to show that we were handling things just fine. It's not my fault that he decided to spin it in the worst way possible. And here I thought he was the reasonable one, but I sure got that one wrong."

The irony of Melanie, in full rant, deciding who was reasonable struck Lindsay as amusing, but she was too upset to laugh. She rubbed at her brow to ward away an oncoming headache. "Regardless, just discussing this doesn't mean that we have to make any immediate decisions."

"They shouldn't have even asked!"

"Wouldn't you?" Lindsay shouted in frustration. "If you were in Michael's position, wouldn't you do all you could to keep her close to you?"

"You agreed with me! This wasn't just my idea!"

Lindsay swallowed back a sob. "I'm not denying that, but Mel, I'm not sure that this..." She paused, searching for the right word. "...illusion of security is worth separating her from her family."

"We're her family."

"But so are they."

"I just can't talk to you when you're like this," Melanie declared. "We can finish this when I get home."

Lindsay held the phone and listened to the beep as the call disconnected. With tremulous hands, she folded the phone and put it in her pocket. On any other day, she would have let herself cry it out, then reminded herself why this was the best choice for them all.

Now, facing only the empty house and her own regrets, she wasn't sure it had been the right decision. She wasn't sure at all.

"Hey, that looks like some of the same guys we had a game with last time we were here. Want to come back down and join them, if we can?" Ben asked Hunter as he spied the basketball game going at the park.

The trip to the mall had been uneventful. Hunter had his alone time and Ben and Michael had poked into a few stores, messed around with Jenny in the kiddie area, fed her some lunch, and now she was nodding off in her car-seat as they neared Melanie and Lindsay's. Ben was a bit antsy and figured he and Hunter could use some more vigorous exercise.

"Yeah, okay," Hunter agreed, not really wanting to just hang out in the house with Gus all afternoon.

"I'll get Jenny down for her nap,' n see what Linds is up to. If you're still playing when Gus gets out of school, I'll bring him down. He'd probably get a kick out of watching you," Michael said.

They pulled in front of the house and Hunter headed out with his packages to get ready. "Here, just stick this in the kitchen for me, would you, honey?" Michael handed Ben the diaper bag, while unbuckling and untangling a sleepy Jenny from the seat.

Lindsay came out of the den, meeting Michael coming in the front door. "How'd it go?" He stuck his thumb up indicating a positive, and headed upstairs to lay Jenny in her crib.

"Hunter and I are going to try to play basketball with some fellows who have a game going in the park," Ben told her as he came down the stairs, passing Michael who gave him a quick kiss.

"Oh, okay. You had lunch, I take it."

"Yup, at the mall. We aren't spoiling any plans you had, are we?"

"No. I got a bit of work done and the house is all picked up, thanks to you. I was thinking you'd like to relax a minute while JR's napping. I have to get Gus in about half an hour."

"I'll relax later," he began as they heard Hunter clomping down the stairs, in his big running shoes. "Hey, pal, pipe down. The baby's asleep," Ben warned him lightly. "All ready?" They went out, jostling and shoving as Hunter feigned throwing a basket.

Michael joined her and they watched them jog down the block. "They get along pretty well, don't they?" she remarked to him.

"Yeah. Who doesn't get along with Ben?"

"I didn't realize how active he is. Jogging this morning, basketball this afternoon."

"And I wouldn't be surprised if he finds a gym to work out in, tomorrow. You don't think he stays looking that way from sitting around on his ass like me, do you?" Michael grinned at her.

"You look fine, but he is in amazing shape."

"He's got Hunter working weights with him at the gym, but Hunter doesn't like to jog, and Ben wants him to have a good cardio workout, so their new thing is racquetball."

"So how are things between you two?"

Michael gave her a quizzical look. "Great. Why?"

"Oh, Mel mentioned that Ben said you'd been having some rough times."

"Ben said that he and I were having rough times?" Michael's face told her that was news to him. "He must have meant with the adoption and Hunter's parents. We're okay…we're good."

"And he's healthy?" Michael nodded and knocked on the wooden chair arm.

Lindsay laughed. "That was so your mother!" She paused a minute then asked, "How's Brian?"

"He's good. Babylon keeps him pretty busy, and things are going well with his business. He's gone to New York a few times to see Justin. He's pretty tight lipped about that -- not sure what's going on there. He comes to our house for dinner now and then. We go dancing a couple of times a month. I meet him for lunch. Do you hear from him much?"

"I call every week and a half or so to let Gus say hi and tell him what's up. He came here once, with Justin, actually. They didn't stay here, wanted a hotel room -- can't blame them."

Michael felt a little uncomfortable, since they all descended on their house when he and Ben came. But they didn't feel they could afford, nor did Michael want to stay in a hotel for three nights, where they'd likely miss out on the beginning and end of Jenny's days.

"But Gus was thrilled," Lindsay was saying. "It was nice. Oh, it's almost three. Speaking of Gus, I have to go pick him up. Do you mind staying here with J.R.?"

Michael just gave her an 'is the Pope Catholic?' look.

"Eat up so we can go watch Uncle Ben and Hunter play basketball," Michael urged Gus who was dawdling over his peanut butter and honey.

"Just take it with you. I'll put the milk in the fridge and give you a water bottle to take," Lindsay suggested.

"Make that two or three if you have them. I'll bet they'll be thirsty."

Just then the front door opened and Hunter came in holding his arm, which was bleeding.

"Oh no! What happened?" Lindsay jumped up.

Ben held up his hand gesturing for them to stay back. "Go to the sink, Hunter. Lindz, do you have gauze pads and tape…and antiseptic?" he yelled after her, as she headed up the stairs. To Michael he said, "It's just a bad scrape, no broken bones, no deep cuts to stitch. He and I can handle it."

"I made the shot though," Hunter said proudly.

Ben nodded, smiling. "He sure did!" Then he noticed Gus standing there looking a little frightened. "He's okay, Gus. It's just a scrape, like when you fall on your knee."

"Does it hurt?" Gus asked Hunter with concern.

"Yeah!"

Lindsay arrived with the supplies. "Can I help?"

"No," both Ben and Hunter answered her.

"Not without gloves on," Michael reminded her.

Gus was fascinated. He pulled a chair over to watch them wash the arm and spray on the antibiotic. Hunter held the bandages in place while Ben wrapped. "You might have a doctor or nurse on your hands here," Ben commented to Lindsay.

"There's Jenny," Lindsay said, as a now familiar cry carried down from upstairs. "Would you like me to get her this time, Michael? She'll be wet and crabby again."

"Well, since you haven't seen her since this morning…" Michael nodded, smiling his thanks for sparing both he and Jenny the upset.

As she changed Jenny, she thought about what it must be like for Michael to know that he would likely have to watch both his adopted son and his husband become debilitated and die, well before him, just as Debbie and he had seen Vic go. She'd known Ben and Hunter were both HIV positive before, but had never actually thought through what it meant for Michael. No wonder having Jenny Rebecca in his life was so important. And she and Mel were important, too. They were going to have to be there for him, to help him through it, god forbid, when it happened.

Gus's laughter echoed across the small lawn as he stumbled after the ball. He threw his whole body across it, a moment later jumping up and holding it high like a prize. "Got it!" Sitting on a nearby patch of grass, Jenny stretched her hands out as if she could catch the ball, too. When Gus passed her by, she turned her attention to her own ball--a large, plush yellow one--and batted it across the tall grass.

"Throw it on back!" Michael called. It was no challenge to play this and keep an eye on the baby, since Gus was better at running after the dropped ball than in trying to catch it in mid-air. Anything was better than being inside the house, right now. Inside, behind their closed bedroom door, Melanie and Lindsay were doing that funny whisper/shout thing that people did when their tempers were out of control, but they were trying to keep their voices down. Hardly ever worked and it wasn't working out now.

So, Hunter and Ben had gone off to the grocery store, while Michael had escaped to the backyard, with Gus and Jenny in tow, leaving the two women to hash out their latest argument.

The porch door creaked behind and, a moment later, hesitant footsteps walked up behind him. He turned and found Melanie looking at him. He didn't know what to say that hadn't been said already, so he turned back just in time to see the ball coming straight at him. No danger. He caught it easily in his hands and lobbed it back to Gus. This, he could do. No thinking involved. No accusing eyes or hidden arguments. If only the rest could be so simple.

"I take it that Hunter's okay, since he and Ben took off somewhere," Melanie finally said. Her voice was scratchy. He wondered if she'd been crying. She didn't look like she had, but for all her temper, she didn't usually broadcast her more vulnerable emotions to the world. Maybe only Lindsay and the kids got to see that softer side.

He realized his silence had stretched on too long when she cocked her head and frowned with worry. "Yeah, it was just a scrape. It takes a lot more than that to knock him down."

"I'm not surprised, considering everything he's been through."

"Mm hmm," Michael replied. He squinted up at the sky and basked in the cool breeze across his face. "It's getting cooler already. I can't believe the holidays are just around the corner."

"I know what you mean. Lindsay and I still haven't decided if we should celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving or the American one or both."

"I'd go for both. We all have a lot to be thankful for." As he said the words, he knew how trite and insincere they might sound, but he really meant them. They were lucky. They might be scattered to the four winds, but at least most of the people he loved were alive, healthy and relatively happy.

"I bet Debbie's planning a huge thing, like always."

"Probably, but I'm not sure." He stopped, wondering if he should be honest, then decided he was sick of censoring himself to protect everyone. "She's down about Uncle Vic of course. This is... wow, this is our first real holiday season without him..." His thoughts drifted away from him. He waited out the tight feeling in his throat until he could speak again. "...and she was really disappointed that she can't make it up here until January."

Gus caught the last throw, then ran up to the porch. "I gotta go!" he said before darting past them into the house.

Melanie smiled and whispered, "He always waits until he can't hold it, then sprints to the bathroom. He hates to stop when he's having fun."

"You never know when the good times will end," Michael said. There had been so many endings, he had lost count. If he'd known then, he wouldn't have wasted a minute of them. He sat on the porch step and held his arms out for Jenny, who crawled over to join them. Beside him, Melanie watched Jenny's progress. After a hug from each of them, Jenny was content to sit between them and examine the tuft of grass clutched in her fist as if it held some deep secrets.

Michael ruffled Jenny's hair, and looked around the backyard again. Last time he'd been there, Jenny was just learning to stand. Before you knew it, she'd be old enough to really play catch or run around and play tag with her friends or dolls or whatever. Time was slipping away much faster than he thought it would. "This place is starting to remind me of our house." He said it both with relief that the kids had a home that allowed them room to grow and sadness that it was here.

"What? Is your place falling apart, too?"

They both laughed. "No, not anymore," Michael said. "We put a lot of work into it, so it really feels like ours. We even put up one of those tree swings, so when you all come to visit, it'll be there for the kids."

"Michael, about what you said this morning, you don't know what you're asking--"

"Yeah, I do. I'm asking to be able to be a part of my daughter's life."

"It's more complicated than that."

"You don't need to teach me about what's complicated or about doing things that aren't easy. I know. You don't think I wonder if her moving back would be the right thing? You don't think I worry that I'm thinking more of myself than her?"

"I wasn't trying to imply that."

"That's what it sounds like. I thought about this for so long, but it was Danny that finally triggered it."

"Danny? Your father, you mean?"

"No," Michael said vehemently. "I mean Danny. My mother decided, unilaterally, to cut him out of my life, so he's practically a stranger to me. I know you and her have this bond over motherhood and you think I don't understand, but you're both wrong."

"Michael," Melanie said helplessly.

He shook his head. With every word, he knew things might get worse and he didn't want to do this in front of Jenny, but the need to speak his peace was too huge to resist. "You asked me to do something that, if you were honest with yourself, know you wouldn't' be willing to do yourself."

"You're painting this into an entirely different situation than it really is."

"What is the situation? Do you even like it here? Is it as much of a haven as you thought? What about your family? You never talk about them."

"My cousin has been up here a couple of times and I talk to my aunt on the phone and exchange letters. As for the rest... we don't talk."

"And you like it that way?"

"Of course not! But it's their decision to cut me out of their lives."

"And this thing -- with Jenny -- that's your decision. I'll admit that right after the bombing, when we were all so scared, it felt like the best thing to do, but now that time has passed, I realize that this solution was too much. Taking Jenny and Gus away from all the people who love them was too much." He turned from her distraught face and stared into space. "If you can't see that, then I don't know what else I can say to make you see it." He looked down at Jenny and find her looking back and forth at them, with wide-eyed confusion.

The back door creaked and swung open again. Lindsay stuck her head out and cautiously looked at them. She opened the door wider to allow Jenny to crawl to her and use her leg to pull to a stand. "Melanie? Michael? You two all right out here?"

The polite response would have been to smile and nod and reassure her that they were fine, just fine. Michael glanced at Melanie, who looked like one giant knot: arms wrapped around herself like she was freezing to death, brows knitted in a frown to the point of looking painful, and her shoulders squared as if she was braced for an attack.

"Are you both okay?" Lindsay asked again, sounding more worried.

"No," Michael said, with a heaviness that weighed down his whole body. "We're not."

Just then, the phone rang. Lindsay gave them a sad look and backed inside to answer it then reappeared a moment later. "It's for you, Michael."

Michael walked past Melanie without another word and went into the house.

Part 9

"Michael, it's Danny."

Michael struggled to sound happy, to push back the irritation and sadness that was blanketing him and feel something other than anxiety at the thought of meeting Daniel Devore. "Hi, Danny. Did you make it up to Toronto all right?"

"Yes, I got in earlier this afternoon."

"Good. Where are you staying?"

"It's a small hotel downtown, called The Murdock."

"What street is it on? Oh, never mind, I can look it up."

"No, hold on. I'm sure there is something in this room with an address on it...oh here, 117 Baylor Ave."

Michael felt tongue tied from his argument with Melanie. He said nothing.

"Well, I was thinking we could meet for lunch here in the hotel restaurant on Saturday afternoon. It looks passable, though I may have jumped the gun a bit. I'll know more about its quality tomorrow, I guess."

"That sounds fine." Michael thought about what would be the best time for Jenny, so she would be less likely to be cranky; that is if Mel would let a him and Ben take her. "Does noon work for you?"

"That would be perfect."

"All right. Well, uh, we'll see you then, okay?" He knew he should try to chat more but he couldn't think of anything to say.

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too."

"Goodbye, Michael."

"Bye." Michael sat with the disconnected phone in his hand. He looked at his watch; four-thirty. He was exhausted. He noticed that the sun was setting and everyone would be coming inside any minute. He decided to go upstairs for a while. He wasn't in the mood to make small talk with them either.

Michael made himself scarce after dinner and Ben found him sitting on the floor of JR's room, as she handed him toys, one after another. "Dat!" she'd say and drop it in his lap.

"Hey, where've you been?" Michael asked, reaching back his hand for Ben to squeeze.

Just chatting with the girls, cleaning up the dinner. Is she saying 'dad'?" Ben asked, feeling a thrill.

"No, I was asking 'what's that?' and I think she's saying it back to me. What's that? Dat." Jenny moved a stuffed pig from her pile to her father's, and Michael grabbed her round the middle and tipped her upside down saying, "Come here, you." She squealed her delight as he kissed her belly and blew a raspberry on it, making her giggle. Gus came pounding up the stairs and, as soon as he saw some floor play going on, jumped on Michael's back, wanting to get in on the rough and tumble.

When he tired of their play, Gus ran off to the next distraction, leaving Michael winded and recovering. Jenny sat herself in Ben's lap and sucked her thumb, while valiantly fighting off the call of sleep. In that quiet time, Michael said, "I talked to Danny. Looks like we're really on for Saturday."

"That's good," Ben said with cautious happiness. "Where are we meeting him?"

"Lunch downtown, at his hotel." Michael looked up, his mouth making a small 'o'."

"What is it?"

"I never told him about Jenny. At least I don't think I did."

"I can't imagine it would be a problem for him. Did Mel and Lindsay say anything about us taking Jenny along?"

"It wasn't a good time to ask. Mel and I butted heads again."

Ben leaned forward to softly caress Michael's scalp. "Good thing yours is so hard," he said teasingly. They both realized what he'd just said and , Ben quickly added, "I know how that sounds and the pun was not intended, I swear."

They shared a smile and a quiet laugh over that, before Ben sobered. "What did she say?"

Michael shrugged. "Nothing new. It didn't go well. At this rate, we'll be semi-strangers in her life. One day she'll be sitting here, like me, worrying about meeting these guys who are supposed to be her dad and uncle."

"It won't come to that," Ben said, hoping he conveyed confidence.

"I'm not so sure about that. We visit when we can, but you know we can't afford to do this forever -- not this often, anyway. And if they can't come to Pittsburgh, it's not like we can stick Jenny on a plane and shuffle her back and forth."

Ben looked down at the little girl who had finally nodded off in his lap. Even after all these months, it was difficult to absorb how much turmoil swirled around her. "I think they just need some time to themselves, to think this over. After we leave, I mean. We're not that bad off and if I get tenure, we'll have more money coming in." There was no point even mentioning his manuscript that was making the rounds of various publishing houses. It might be months before it was accepted--if at all.

"You told me yourself that making tenure can take years and that you have to publish lots and make all these connections. With us traveling back and forth and dealing with everything else, how are you going to find the time you need?"

"Baby, there are so many things that I didn't think I'd have time to do --find someone to love, have a family, look forward to the future. As complicated as it may be, I refuse to believe it's impossible."

Michael looked tenderly at his eternal optimist and half smiled. . Ben embodied hope. He had to -- and really, what choice did they have? "I hope you're right."

"We still have two more nights and we should be enjoying it as much as we can."

"Enjoy. Right."

"Yes, enjoy." Ben reached out and took Michael's hand. "It's not every week I get to meet my... well, I guess he's my father-in-law, isn't he? If not for him, you wouldn't be here. I feel like I should thank the man."

Michael's face turned pink. "Don't joke about it. This is already going to be weird enough. I sort of wish it were over with. Another whole day before it happens? The waiting is killing me!"

Michael got his wish, but not the way either of them were expecting. Ben came out of the shower and nearly fell on his behind when Michael accosted him.

"Oh god!" was all Michael could say. "Tomorrow!"

Ben maneuvered them both away from the wet, slippery tiles of the bathroom, back into the bedroom. He pushed Michael into a chair and then continued to dry off and get into his sleep clothes. "What happened? What's going on tomorrow?"

"Remember how I was saying I couldn't wait to meet Danny?"

"Yes. Did something go wrong? Did he call?"

"No. Yes."

"Care to elaborate?"

"No, nothing went wrong. At least not if you look at in a certain way. In another way, this may turn out to be the worst thing ever, but..."

"Michael!"

"Yeah?"

"Slow down. Tell me everything."

"Danny called. He wants to change our plans to tomorrow."

Ben eyed Michael, trying to judge how much of this was panic and how much was excitement. "Are you okay with that?"

"I guess I have to be. I can't put it off, after all this time." He hopped out of the chair and strode to the small wardrobe in the corner. "What should I wear? He said he thought the restaurant was 'passable', butI forgot to ask him how formal the restaurant is. Did I even bring any dress shoes? I can't remember packing them."

Ben walked over to Michael and hugged him from behind. "Why don't you shower first and try to unwind? This can wait half an hour."

Michael looked up and back at Ben, smiling ruefully. "I'm acting like I'm going out on my first date or something. Sorry."

"Hey, on my first date, I was sweating so much, I looked like I was having a heart attack. Not my finest hour."

"Yeah, but you were going out with a girl. That's understandable."

"Let's not rehash my checkered past. Comparatively speaking, you're cool as a cucumber."

"Tell that to my knees. I think they're knocking. And now I have to go another round with Mel and Lindsay, either tonight or early in the morning," he moaned.

"I will tell your knees anything they want to hear, after you take a deep breath and relax."

Michael did so, then hiccuped. He leaned back against Ben. "You'd think I'd remember all that breathing stuff from Lamaze. I promise to not freak out again... tonight."

Ben placed a soft kiss on his neck. "Deal."

"I think I will go take that shower."

"You want some tea when you're done? Or hot chocolate?"

"Hot chocolate, please."

"You got it." As soon as Ben heard the shower going, he pulled on a sweatshirt and left in search of Melanie and Lindsay.

"I don't know..." Melanie started.

Ben cut her off, probably more abruptly than etiquette demanded, but he wanted this conversation over before Michael was out of the shower. "I know we kind of sprang this on you both, but events aren't going to fall into place like this every day. This is extremely important to him...and to me."

Lindsay took Melanie's hand in hers. "We did talk about it. When we agreed to have Michael father the baby, we knew Debbie and Vic would be a part of her life. We really didn't think beyond that. Allowing this isn't just a simple of matter of a one-time meeting. What if he wants more? We don't even know this man and neither does Michael, to tell the truth."

Ben agreed, to a point, but not enough to be talked out of his position. "Some things are worth risking. Are you willing to risk what will happen, how much it will hurt him, if you say no? We're not talking about sending Jenny to live with the man. We'll all be together, in a nice public place. This is his father," Ben stressed. "and her grandfather. Frankly, I don't think we should have to beg for this."

When Michael came out of the shower, he was surprised to return to an empty bedroom. He checked the den first, but only found Hunter asleep on the couch, his face lit up by the flickering glow of the TV. Light was coming from the kitchen and Michael suddenly remembered the hot chocolate Ben had promised him.

Ben was standing over the stove, pouring steaming hot milk into a big mug. He wasn't alone. Melanie and Lindsay were sipping from their own mugs. They were quiet, but Michael sensed that he'd just walked into something. "What did I miss?"

Melanie waved him toward one of the chairs. "Sit. Ben makes a mean cup of hot chocolate."

"Yes," Michael agreed, "he does." He was uneasy, but in spite of the reserve on Melanie's face, her welcome seemed genuine. He took a seat. "Lots of cinnamon and marshmallows, just the way I like it."

Lindsay smiled at Ben. "I've made him swear to leave me a couple of recipes this time."

"Only if you promise to make that Chicken Marsala." Ben rubbed his stomach in fond memory.

"Deal."

Michael cleared his throat and sat up, holding his mug a little tighter. "Look, I hate to interrupt this conversation, but we need to discuss--"

Melanie jumped in. "Before you say anything, Ben already shared the news about Danny."

"He did?" Michael looked at his husband, who seemed to be avoiding his eyes and sitting more stiffly than a few seconds ago.

"Yes," Melanie said. "We were sort of surprised--"

"Surprised," Lindsay inserted, "because, of course, we hardly have time to pick out something special for Jenny to wear." She gave Melanie a pointed look. "We want her to look nice when she meets her grandfather for the first time."

Michael took a sip of his chocolate and tried to work through his shock. He didn't taste it and he thought it was possible he had burned his tongue. Didn't feel it though. "So, it's okay?"

Melanie spoke up. "Yes, it's definitely okay. The other stuff, we can talk about later, but yes, we want Jenny to meet Danny. And we're sorry we left you hanging about something so important."

"Thanks," Michael said, at a loss for anything more to say.

"Do you have a camera?" Lindsay asked.

"Yes," Ben said. "We always bring one."

"Take lots of shots. I think Jenny could use a few new pictures on her wall."

"Yeah. I'm thinking of bringing some photo albums next time, to cull some of the ones off the wall and sort of make the whole thing more... manageable. What do you think?" After a round of jokes about when JR would realize that her wall paper was decidedly different than most, Michael suddenly changed the subject.

"Remember that weekend a few years ago, you went out of town to visit some relatives and missed the big Angels Over Pittsburgh fundraiser that Ted was in charge of finding entertainment for?"

To Ben's surprise, Michael launched into the story of meeting Davina Devore, finding the yearbook, confronting his mom--the whole thing. Up until now, Brian and Ben had been the only ones that knew that Davina was Michael's father. Michael was a good story teller, when he put his mind to it. Soon the room filled with laughter and gasps as he described Davina, and everyone's various reactions as he figured out his mother's secret. The cocoa was long gone and the girls were shaking their heads in amazement that Debbie did such a thing and sympathy over how Michael handled the whole episode.

"Oh Michael, that must have been so hard," Lindsay said empathetically. "I'm crazy about your mother, but Deb's love is... almost a burden for you sometimes." She watched his face closely, to see if she had offended him, but he seemed to understand that she was complimenting him on handling it so well.

"I guess all of us can do some life altering things to our kids when we're trying to protect them," Mel mused, "change names, change countries."

Everyone looked at her, each startled at what she might be admitting.

She continued, "Danny sounds like a nice person. Now we want to meet him too." Lindsay smiled, reaching across the table to take Michael's hand and nodded in agreement.

"Let's see how this goes tomorrow. I'm already a nervous wreck and I have no idea how he's feeling, having to meet the four of us at once."

Ben stood. "I'm going to check on the kids -- make sure everyone's tucked in and sleeping soundly. Last we saw, Hunter was sacked out in the den. Is it a problem if he stays there for the night?"

"No, that's fine," Mel said. "I've ended up on that couch a time or two, when I've stayed up too late working. It's comfortable."

Michael gave Ben's hand a squeeze and a slight nod of his head, indicating that he was ready to call it a night. After goodnight wishes to the girls and making sure Hunter had a blanket and a pillow, Michael took Ben's hand and led him to their room.

Once there, Michael walked to the bed and turned the covers down.

Ben felt good. This had been, by far, the best evening of their visit.

"That went well, don't you think? It felt like old times, just sitting around and talking."

"Uh huh." Michael turned, smiling at him and began to unbutton Ben's shirt.

"You were brilliant. Are you tired?"

"Not really." He stepped in close and continued, "I think I burnt my tongue, on your hot, hot..." Michael tipped his face up and gently kissed Ben as he undid his belt and jeans, "...chocolate." Ben returned the kiss and Michael used his tongue to flick then stroke Ben's lips. "I guess it's okay, though."

"No, wait," Ben finally caught on as the tingling sensation spread hot tendrils up through his abdomen. "Let me check it again." He proceeded to give Michael's tongue a thorough going over, as they helped each other out of their clothes.

"I just wanted to thank you," Michael murmured, between kisses, as he encouraged Ben back onto the pillows and straddled him.

"What for? Mmm, somebody is feeling much better." Michael's hands were everywhere.

"For getting the Jenny Rebecca discussion... out of the way while I was in the shower."

"I'm just glad you didn't think I weighed in--oh, that feels good--to something that wasn't my... business."

"Of course it's your business. I'm... your... business."

"I sort of -- baby, you'd better get a condom on me... oooh... oh, yeah... if you're going to... ahhh... keep... doing... that..."

"Did you bring some un-lubed ones? Oh, here they are. Now, where were we? You sort of...?"

"Mmm... guilted them into it." A sharp intake of breath.

"Guilted them?"

"But you, telling your story... shit, oh yeah..."

"Mmm... What was that?"

"You had them, begging... you, ahhh, had them... begging..."

"Begging?"

"To... oh, yeah, oh, Michael... come... come... come!"

Michael smiled. He wasn't always the noisy one.

Part 10

Hunter yanked at the fabric that was slowly strangling him. "What?" he groused, when Michael smacked his hand away. "Why do I need to wear this thing?"

"Because I want you to look nice when we meet him!" Michael said in a hushed, tight voice, straightening the tie for practically the hundredth time.

Hunter looked Michael over. With the jacket and tie and his hair slicked down like that, Michael looked more like he was going to a funeral... his own. Why oh why hadn't he asked to stay back in Pittsburgh with Debbie? He opened his mouth to complain again, but stopped at the dark look Ben was aiming his way, the look that said he was about to take a step over the line. Crap, if those two were any more uptight, they were going to explode.

Jenny was the only one of them who actually looked happy to be there. She gripped Ben's shoulder and looked right and left, tracking all the noise and movement as they crossed the lobby to the dining room entrance.

And she got to wear her comfortable clothes. Lucky brat.

"Do you see him?" Michael asked Ben anxiously, scanning the roomful of diners.

Ben gave him a funny smile, "I've only seen his yearbook picture, babe."

"Oh, yeah." Michael shook his head, as if to clear it.

All the people blended into a faceless crowd until one stood and waved in their direction. Even from a few yards away, the face seemed a little familiar. Hunter nudged Michael and nodded towards the waver. "That him?"

Michael froze. "Yeah," he said. "Okay, remember..."

"You're not gonna tell me to chew my food with my mouth closed are you?" At Michael's guilty look, Hunter sighed. "Guess I can't put my feet on the table and pick my toenails, either."

"Hunter!" Ben said sternly.

"Sorry, but give me a break already. It's not like I'm some wild dog."

Michael eyes went wide. "Have I been that bad?"

Knowing how nervous Michael was, Hunter decided to take pity. "Only all morning. I'll get over it. But, uh, maybe we should go over there before he thinks we're planning to bolt."

Indeed, Danny's happy expression had transformed to one of concern and he was walking towards them. They met each other halfway. Danny took Michael's hand in both of his, in a warm handshake.

"Michael, it's wonderful to see you again."

"You too. Danny, this is my husband, Ben, and our son, Hunter."

"Nice to meet you, Ben, Hunter," Daniel said, shaking their hands.

"And who is this little beauty?" He took her hand for moment, but JR pulled back from the stranger.

"This is the reason we come up to Toronto every few weeks -- my daughter, Jenny Rebecca. Her moms live here."

"My goodness, what a lovely family. You've certainly been busy since we last met."

Michael thought Danny seemed slightly overwhelmed and genuinely happy at not only meeting a ready made extended family, but realizing he actually had a biological granddaughter. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment. Danny finally covered his emotion by joking, "All this and time to get blown-up too?"

That cut the emotional tension and they all laughed at the unexpected reference to the bombing, and sat down.

As the others studied their menus, Hunter watched the entire scene with curiosity. Up close, it was easier to see how much Michael and his dad looked alike. They were both dark eyed and had similar hair, though the older man's was streaked with grey. They were about the same height, and Danny had a nice smile, like Michael, though the lips weren't exactly the same. He tried, but had a hard time imagining the guy in drag. He looked more like somebody's uncle.

The waiter, a man named Henry, came over, with big, toothy smiles for all of them, a high chair for Jenny, and a pen and pad ready. After he had taken their orders and left, Michael, Ben, and Danny started talking all at once.

"How, have you..."

"It's so good to..."

"You look wonderful..."

They stopped at the same time, as if it was all on purpose, then Danny said, "Please, go on. I'd love to hear all about how you've been doing." Hunter would have laughed at the whole thing, except he suspected it would get him grounded for acting up. Instead, he watched the looks on their faces.

Once Michael started talking, the constipated look on his face faded away. While he recited some of the highlights from the past year, Ben had a mushy smile on his face and Danny listened like his life depended on catching every word. It was even weirder than dinner with Debbie. Since he'd heard all this stuff before, Hunter mentally checked out and let the conversation flow past him. The arrival of the appetizers was a relief: something to do, plus he was starving. Michael had been on his back so much today, he'd barely had time to finish his second bowl of breakfast cereal.

He took a bite and caught Jenny staring at him with her mouth open and a hopeful look in her eye. She stretched her hand out and said, "Dat!"

Of course, the adults went all goo goo eyed.

"She's talking already?" Danny said with delight.

"Just a few words... mostly 'no' and demands for what she wants," Michael admitted.

"Well, it sounds like she's well on her way to becoming a little diva. Must take after our side of the family."

As far as Hunter could see, there were plenty of divas on both sides of Jenny's family, but that was another thing he couldn't say without getting into trouble. He dipped a tortilla chip into the spinach cheese sauce and kept his opinions to himself.

He probably wouldn't have said much if Danny hadn't turned to him and asked, "So, what's your story, young man?"

Caught off guard, Hunter tried to stall for time. "Uh... story?"

"Michael and I haven't talked much, but he did mention the adoption and that you've all become a family.

"Nothing else to tell," Hunter said with a shrug. He shoved another chip in his mouth, hoping it would discourage more questions. But when he tried to swallow, it felt like his neck tie was tightening. He wondered how much Danny wanted to know. It would probably turn his salt and pepper hair all white.

"You know kids," Ben interjected easily. "Sometimes they act like they're being interrogated if you just ask 'how are you?'"

"Oh, boy do I remember those rebellious days," Danny said. By the look on his face, the memories were good ones. "In fact, that's probably how I ended up with your mother."

Michael's expression turned thoughtful. "My mom was an act of rebellion? Yeah, I could see that."

"Oh, I don't mean that in a bad way. She was a wonderful girl -- so brash and full of life. She was always one to speak her mind. My parents didn't know what to make of her. Years after I'd left, I regretted not keeping in touch with her." He looked at Michael with sadness. "I missed out on a lot more than I thought."

That created another pause in the conversation that was only cured by Henry's arrival with the main entrees. Danny declared that the Shrimp Alfredo was "perfection".

"But it doesn't beat Vic's," Michael remarked.

"Oh, does he still cook? I used to bribe Debbie into sharing whenever Vic made her lunch. He had the makings of a culinary genius."

Michael looked like he'd been sucker punched. Hunter hoped he wouldn't throw up right here at the table. Ben patted Michael's arm and informed Danny about Vic's passing. "We all still miss him a lot," Ben said quietly, splitting his focus between Danny's shocked expression and Michael's sad one.

"Of course," Danny said. "Forgive me. You told me he was sick, back when we met, but he was doing well then."

"Please don't feel bad. How could you know? The past couple of years has brought so many changes in our lives. It's hard to remember that most of this is news to you. I don't know that I'd take it half so well."

"Thank you, Ben. You're very kind. A life in the theater does train one to deal with the unexpected, but some things are still... difficult." He took a sip of wine, set the glass down with precision and said, "I hate to do this, but I wonder if you all might excuse me?"

"Oh, absolutely!" Ben replied. "Would you like us to order you another drink while you're gone?"

"Some coffee would be wonderful." He excused himself and disappeared towards the rest rooms.

"Are you okay?" Ben asked of Michael.

Michael looked up, a little dazed. "I hope I didn't scare him off with all the doom and gloom. I should have realized... Vic told me they were friends, but I didn't even think to tell Danny when it happened."

"You'd barely met him. And recently you've only talked to him for a few minutes. It's unreasonable to expect that you could have told him everything."

"I should have told him that. Maybe I should check on him?"

Jenny conveniently made it easy for him. Tired of being ignored, she had been entertaining herself with a glob of mashed peas. Unfortunately, she decided to wipe her hand on Michael's sleeve.

"It could have been worse," Ben offered. "It could have been... um..."

"A crappy diaper?" Hunter quipped. They both made faces at him. No sense of humor.

Michael stood. "I'll be back in a few," he said before leaving the table.

Ben eyed Hunter. "Are you guys all right?"

"Sure," Hunter said. As long as the spotlight was off him, he was happy to just stuff his face. "I could use dessert, though."

"Sure, let's just clean up Jenny's mess."

Hunter circled the table to help, so he was holding a damp napkin in one hand and a handful of peas in the other, when he asked, "This is all pretty fucked, right?"

"Don't swear in front of the baby," Ben responded absently. He kept looking in the direction that Michael and Danny had gone. He shook himself and turned to Hunter. "Did Danny's questions make you uncomfortable?"

"No, they didn't."

"Come on, Hunter. Something was going on."

"I dunno. What was I supposed to say?" It was the first time in a while, this stuff had come up with someone who didn't already know the story. The thought of telling it all again actually made Hunter sick to his stomach. "Hey, Gramps, I used to turn tricks. Pass the salt, please."

"You don't have to share details if you'd prefer not to."

"So, it's okay for me to lie? Get some cover story going?"

""Come up with a simplified version. 'I was in and out of foster homes until I met Michael and Ben,' or something like that. I don't know what sort of relationship we'll eventually have, but this man is our family. Lies aren't really a good way to start things. I don't think he'll ask any more. I think he realized it was a touchy subject."

"Fine," Hunter said. He frowned at Ben. "So, when are we gonna meet your family?"

With trepidation, Michael pushed the restroom door open. He was expecting the worst, so he was relieved that all he found was Danny standing at one of the row of sinks, patting his flushed face with a damp paper towel. Their eyes met in the mirror.

"I should have had fruit juice with lunch instead of that wine. The cheap stuff always goes straight to my head."

Michael nodded. "Yeah, I get drunk pretty easy too. My friends always make fun of me."

"Yet another thing we have in common." Danny discarded the paper towel. "Well, um, what is appropriate conversation for a public restroom? I have some ideas, but they all involve handsome men who are most definitely not blood relations."

Michael made himself laugh along with Danny. "I don't know about that." He held up his arm. "I just came because Jenny got a little artistic with her lunch." He got to work cleaning himself up. "I always have to bring twice as many clothes as I need."

"It must be difficult with her living so far away."

"Very."

The door swung open, admitting another man who headed to one of the stalls.

Michael twisted his faucet off. "Look, do you mind if we sit and talk somewhere? Maybe the bar or something? I just... it won't be too long if you need to go."

"Of course. While you finish up here, I can go on ahead and let Ben and Hunter know where we'll be, then find us a spot at the bar."

"Great." He watched until his father was gone and the door had stopped swinging on its hinges. He didn't really need the extra-time; his jacket had cleaned up pretty easily. However, after making the offer to talk, he appreciated having a few more minutes to think about what he had to say.

The walk to the bar felt like it took forever. It seemed like every table was filled with men, women, children--all eating and talking as if they didn't have a thing to worry about.

He tried to scoot past one table, where a crowd had gathered. Someone bumped into him at the same time that a series of bright lights flashed, blinding Michael for a few seconds. He gasped, frozen to the spot, waiting for the fist-like pressure to flatten him, for the heat that seared his skin until it felt like he was on fire. But there was no heat, no concussive wave, nothing but a chorus of off-key voices singing 'Happy Birthday' and a round of applause.

Breathe. Keep walking. Simple things, but it felt like he'd forgotten how to do them. He reached Danny and slid onto a bar stool, grateful that his rubbery legs hadn't given out on him. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, but they still felt shaky, so he didn't reach for the glass that Danny pushed across the counter towards him.

"I ordered some fruit juice," Danny said, "but you look like you could use something a little stronger."

Michael blinked away the blurry edges of his vision and said, "Please." Even to him, his voice sounded hoarse. He cleared his throat. "Flashbacks. I've been getting them every once in a while. A noise or bright light... stress.""

"I know just the thing." Danny hailed the bartender, who, after a few words between them, took away the fruit juice. She returned and set the glass back in front of Michael.

"Enjoy, sir."

Michael raised an eyebrow at the returned glass of fruit juice.

Danny leaned towards him and said, "I asked her to give it a little kick. Just enough whiskey to take the edge off."

It was smooth, going down, warming the pit of his stomach and chasing away the clamminess of his hands. "Thanks. I needed that."

"It has been rather an eventful afternoon, hasn't it?"

"You're telling me," Michael said with a grimace. He straightened up and looked at Danny. "I feel like I should apologize."

"Please, don't. I'm only grateful that you asked me to meet you and your family. I'm not sure I would have had the courage to ask. Any moments of... discomfort... are certainly not your fault."

"You opened the door by sending me that card. I just wish I'd seen it sooner. There's just so much to say, but I wanted us to have a good time and get to know each other a little. Maybe I was expecting too much for one time," Michael confessed.

"If you did, you're not the only one. With all my questions, I've put your family in an awkward position. That was never my intention."

"We know. It's just..." Michael paused to take another drink. "Maybe it would be best if I just tell you about Hunter and Ben. It wasn't the kind of thing I could just say on the phone, even if I had thought about it."

"Go on."

Michael took a deep breath and proceeded to fill Danny in: how they'd found Hunter, the trouble with the adoption, his and Ben's positive status, and the custody battle over Jenny. "I never even thought I'd have kids, but when the opportunity was there, I just wanted to do it right. I want my kids to be happy, but I also want to be a part of their lives. It was bearable when I thought that my dad was... when I thought you couldn't be around. When I found out I was wrong and that you had been out there all that time, that maybe you and I could have known each other, everything changed. I won't let anybody do to my daughter what my mother did to me."

Danny squirmed in his seat and fiddled with his glass. He looked very unhappy, making Michael wish he could have said what he'd said in some better, more tactful way.

"I can't begin to know what your mother went through, but I hope you won't judge her too harshly."

"I know she loves me, but she had no right."

"Or maybe she knew, back then, what I was only starting to realize. Maybe she saw that I wasn't meant for the white house, picket fence, and all the other trappings of the American dream."

An image of Brian lept to his mind with those words, though Brian and Danny couldn't be more different. Michael bit his lip and held back his response to that. He didn't agree that his mother had been that insightful, but he didn't want to argue with Danny the first time they sat and really talked.

Danny laid a hand over Michael's and squeezed. "Whatever mistakes she might have made, I can already see she raised a heck of a man."

Michael stared at their joined hands, his mind gone blank at the unexpected compliment. How he wanted to turn his hand over and squeeze back, make up for all the times he wished his father had been there. Then Danny took his hand away and the moment was lost. "Thank you," Michael finally said. "You don't know how much that means to me."

"I think I have an inkling, if you're feeling anything like I am."

"So, I didn't scare you off with my thousand and one horror stories?"

"Absolutely not. I admire what you've done with your life."

Michael blushed. "It wasn't..." He was about to say 'a big deal' but that was wrong. It was a big deal, at least to him. "...just me. I had a lot of people around to help me get through it."

"You're lucky, then. I've had loved ones, but I've lost so many of them over the years." He clasped Michael's shoulder, searching his face with eyes that were too old, too sad. "Hold onto the ones you have. Don't let them slip away until it's too late."

This time, Michael reached up and covered Danny's hand with his own. "I won't. I promise."

Ben and Hunter were halfway through dessert when Michael and Danny rejoined them. Jenny had put her head down on the high chair tray and dozed off. "I guess that's our signal to go," Michael said with disappointment.

Danny reached out and stroked her hair. "She was an angel through all that talk."

They settled the check, after a mini tug-of-war that Danny won. "Call it a grandfather's prerogative. It's not every day I get to be the benevolent patriarch." He patted Hunter's shoulder.

They walked to the lobby where Ben and Hunter left to get the car while Michael and Danny discussed their next meeting.

"After tomorrow's show, I'll be leaving for Italy for a week, but my manager insists that she have at least seventeen means of contacting me. You have my phone number and email?"

Michael patted his pocket. "Got 'em."

Ben and Hunter rejoined them. Ben reached into his pocket and pulled out the camera. "We never did use this."

Michael clapped a hand over his brow. "Shit." He shot a quick glance at Jenny, but she was still sleeping. "I forgot."

Danny grinned. "Never let it be said that I turned down a photo op. How's my face? Oh, wait. Don't answer that. We performers have egos that are as fragile as they are large."

"You look great," Ben said. "Why don't you all get together and I'll grab a few shots?"

"Oh, no, Ben. I want you in these too," Michael insisted.

Danny stepped over to the front desk. "Excuse me, would you take a couple of pictures of me with my family?" he asked the receptionist.

"Great idea," Ben smiled at him. "Danny, would you mind holding Jenny?" Ben stepped between Michael and Hunter, slinging his arm over Hunter's shoulders and giving him a playful rib-poke. "Hunter, stop slouching. Everyone smile!" Danny moved to Michael's other side.

Michael blinked against the flash, flinching each time the shutter clicked. A heavy warmth settled around his shoulders. Danny's arm. He gulped and whispered, "Thanks."

Danny turned and looked at him. "My pleasure... son."

Part 11

As soon as they got in the car, Hunter yanked off the tie and stuffed it in his pocket.

"I'm with you," Ben said, loosening his tie, too.

"You both looked great. Thanks," Michael said as he steered the car into traffic.

"What do you say, once we get Jenny situated, we all go to that gym we found last time, work out and have a good steam?" Ben figured Michael needed to decompress a little, before any more drama occurred. He certainly did and Hunter could probably stand it. "How's your arm feeling, by the way?" he asked Hunter, who was in the back seat, next to a sleeping J.R.

"S'okay. It's a little sore when I bend it. They have a pool there. I think a swim sounds good."

Ben looked over at Michael and massaged the back of his neck as he drove, "How 'bout you, baby?"

Michael nodded and glanced at him with a grateful smile. "I've hardly moved since we got here. That would feel great."

"So, are you gonna see him again?" Hunter asked.

"He's off to Italy for a week and he lives in New York."

"But, do you want to see him again?"

"I have his email and phone number... I'll keep in touch."

Ben shot Hunter a look, signaling him to drop it. "Let's just let the whole thing settle for a while."

"Fine, whatever." First, Michael can't stop talking about all this father shit, now he won't talk. Hunter shut his eyes and dozed off for the rest of the ride home.

When they got back to the house, there was a note from Lindsay saying she was getting Gus from school and picking up a few groceries after that. Jenny got a little fussy as they moved her again, from car to crib, but she settled down pretty quickly. They all changed into gym clothes, but Lindsay still wasn't back, so Michael told them to go ahead. Now that he'd had a few minutes for everything to sink in, he didn't really care that much about going.

He made a cup of tea and thought about Danny Devore, at eighteen, probably a pretty 'bright flame' -- someone more like Emmett, than himself. Would Danny have stayed around to be in Michael's life? Pretty unlikely. Would he have kept in touch, if his mom had encouraged it? Probably not, or barely--just enough to make Michael feel bad. So, instead of a dead father, he'd have had a missing father. An absent, gay father who lived in New York City and didn't seem to care about him. He might have dropped in and out of Michael's life, over the years. How would that have been? Shitty. He thought of Brian and Gus.

So, what did he have now? A pleasant, older man who was in the theatre, seemed glad to know him, could tell him stories of a younger, healthy Vic and a carefree Debbie. Michael could hear about his other grandparents, maybe aunts or uncles and any genetic issues he should know about. Danny might turn out to be a colorful and, hopefully, loving grandfather for Jenny Rebecca. And best of all, Michael didn't have anger towards him or pain to forgive him for causing. That was something.

The front door blew open and Gus came flying in. "Uncle Mikey! I have Jervis for the weekend!"

Michael got up, seeing Lindsay coming along behind with grocery bags. "Who's Jervis, a friend from school?" Michael couldn't believe Lindsay would add another person to the already bursting household.

"Our gerbil, who lives at my class. It's my turn to have him. Will you write a story about him?"

He took one of the bags from Lindsay. "Well, I'll have to get to know him a little. I can't write about someone I don't know. Let's help your mom with these bags."

"This is it. Gus, go put newspaper down on your dresser, so he doesn't make a mess in your room. Jervis is still in the back seat." She turned to Michael, with an excited, anticipatory look. "So? Mel wants you to wait to tell the details, but you can tell me a little. How'd it go?"

"Pretty well, I guess. Jenny was a sweetheart, only threw a couple of things, charmed him totally, then fell asleep over dessert!" he said, grinning. Then he took a deep breath. "It was kinda weird. Some awkward moments... he asked Hunter what his story was and of course, Hunter clammed up." Lindsay made an understanding face. "Then he asked about Vic -- naturally, he hadn't heard -- and I got a little choked up. That kind of threw him. He probably thought he couldn't ask anything without stepping on a land mine."

"Oh, dear." They heard Gus go out the door, presumably to get Jervis.

"Thank goodness, Ben was there. He bailed us both out and kept the conversation going. Later, Danny and I had a few minutes alone, to talk. It all went pretty fast. I hardly learned anything about him." Michael's face took on a peculiar look as he realized, "I don't even know if he lives alone or has a partner!"

"Well, it was one meal. You'll learn more about him as time goes on." The door slammed again. Gus appeared around the corner, struggling with a large cage.

"Oh, here, bud, let me help you with that." Michael took the cage. "Are you bringing him up to your room?"

"Yup. See him? Isn't he cute?" Michael peered into the cage and could barely make out a furry form tucked in the corner.

"When do you think you'll see him again?" Lindsay asked, as she put the groceries away.

"Don't know. He travels a lot and he lives in New York, so we may just be pen-pals for the foreseeable future." He thought of Hunter making the pen-pal comment about his dad. Geez, that seemed like ages ago.

"Who? What's a pen-pal?" Gus asked.

Michael wondered, for a split second, if he should answer directly, then said, "Pen-pals are people who keep in touch by writing letters -- like I do you and J.R. I'd like to do the same with my dad."

"Oh. My dad lives in Pittsburgh."

"I know." Michael smiled at him. "Your dad is my best friend, remember? I live in Pittsburgh, too." Michael glanced at Lindsay, wondering what she thought of this conversation.

"Oh, yeah." Gus fell silent, just looking up at Michael. "Can I go to Pittsburgh to see my dad?"

"We can talk about that later, Gus. Why don't you bring Jervis up to your room, honey." Lindsay said, a little too quickly.

"You need help?" Michael asked. Gus shook his head and took the bulky cage. Michael guessed the creature was used to being bumped and jostled around. As they heard him thump up the stairs, Michael turned to Lindsay. "Does he ask about Brian, much?"

"Oh, now and then -- mostly after a phone call or something." She looked uncomfortable.

Michael pushed. "Do you think if no one mentions him, Gus won't think about him? 'Cause, believe me, boys talk about their dads. And in school, moms and dads come up all the time."

"He's come to visit once," she said in a hurt tone. "There's no point in getting Gus' hopes up by talking about things that won't happen."

"You're mad at Brian, so you punish Gus? How many times have you and Mel been back to the Pitts?"

"We have a baby. You know how hard that would be."

Michael was nodding in agreement. "I do know, but Lindz, we all have lots of good reasons that make this a difficult trip."

They faced each other, both looking more sad than angry. Finally, Lindsay just nodded. They heard the front door again. Ben and Hunter came into the kitchen.

"Your car door was wide open," Hunter announced as he went to the fridge.

"Gus brought his class gerbil home and must have forgotten to close it. I was just going up to check on Jenny. Help yourself, Hunter. Anything is fair game in there." Lindsay excused herself.

Ben gave Michael a 'hello' kiss. Hunter got a spoon for his yogurt and said, "You missed a good workout," as he headed for the den to watch television.

"Oh, yeah, well, it's not like I could go."

"Sorry. You doin' okay?" Ben asked.

"I guess." Michael lowered his voice. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can't wait to leave." Ben raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Hasn't his been the longest, fucking three days of your life?"

"Let me get some water and let's go out to the back porch to talk."

Outside, they sat on the steps. "I think you're right. Once we're out of here, they can start to talk."

"What brought this on?"

"I can't seem to have more than a five minute conversation with either of them, without wanting to... scream! What the fuck are they doing here!? They aren't happy, Lindsay, especially." He dropped his head into his hands. "I reminded Gus that I'm good friends with his dad and I thought Lindsay was going to clap her hand over my mouth. She sent him out of the room! Signaling me not to bring it up, as if Gus won't think about him, if no one mentions him."

"Well, you've got to admit, Brian isn't the long-distance father you are."

"We're not talking about what kind of father Brian is. This is about Gus. Can you imagine Brian coming here? Staying here? Christ, he and Mel would be at each others throats. If they were in Pittsburgh, he'd see plenty, well... a lot more of Gus."

"Look, let's stick with our own problems and let Brian deal with his."

What the fuck was with Ben? "Fine. You asked me what happened."

"You tried to get at Mel by using Lindsay's guilt over Gus and Brian's situation."

"What?" Michael rounded on Ben, clearly angry. "So, what if I did?"

"Oh, so now I'm the enemy? Enough already, Michael-- you've got to calm down." Ben's jaw was clenched. God damn it, he was tired of this.

"Don't tell me to fuckin' calm down!"

When Ben just looked at him, Michael raised his voice even higher, fuming, fists balled. "This isn't about Brian's problem. This is Gus' problem, Jenny Rebecca's problem, Hunter's problem. This is my problem! News flash, Ben, We have no fuckin' power here!" He jumped up from the step, unable to just sit there. Noise rushed past his ears, but he shook it off. "Yes, I'll use any goddamned weapon, a stone, a stick, to drive a wedge..." Ben's face swam before him and seemed to flicker, like clouds drifting across the sun, only it was too fast to for that. "...to sh... to shove either of them to my side..." He staggered back, then stopped abruptly, gasping and shaking. There it was -- the light, the pressure, the heat -- it all hit him, full force.

Ben had been stunned by the anger in his tirade, but stopped listening when Michael stumbled. He leapt up as he watched the blood drain from Michael's face, like it had gone down a pipe, and his eyes roll back. Ben caught him as he crumpled, going down on his knees himself, with the dead weight, but easing the fall. "Jesus! Michael, Michael," he said holding him, letting him down onto the grass and smoothing his hair back on his damp forehead, saying his name, over and over. Suddenly, Gus appeared at his side. "Gus, get your mom, quickly. Tell her something's wrong. Run." He tried not to scare the kid, but his own heart was pounding.

Gus was barely inside when Michael started to moan and come around. "Michael, shhh. You're all right. I've got you." Michael's eyes fluttered open, then closed again.

"Oh, no, no..." Michael moaned and put out his palm, pushing against Ben's chest, then brought his hand to his own face, feeling for blistered, peeling skin. "I'm... burning."

Ben just repeated, "No, Michael, you're all right. I've got you." Finally, his eyes opened and focused.

Lindsay's face appeared over him. "Should I call 911?" She was holding Jenny Rebecca.

"No," Michael said, struggling to sit.

"Michael, maybe you should let someone check you out." Ben's face was taut, fear in his eyes.

"No. I'm okay. Help me sit up. I'm just a little dizzy." But when he sat up, he thought he might puke. He lay back again, but he wasn't going to a damn hospital. "I'm okay, Ben, just let me... rest." He felt incredibly tired. He closed his eyes, when he heard Mel asking, "What the hell is going on?"

"It's getting chilly out here. Can you sit up?" Ben was still by his side. Now Hunter was there too, looking scared. Someone had balled up a sweatshirt and put it under his head.

"I think so. Can I have a drink of water?" The nausea was gone. The sweat was drying and he was getting cold. Michael wondered how long they'd been there. It couldn't be long, it was still late afternoon. His sense of time was all fucked up. He sat up.

"You're shivering. Can you walk? I'll help you, baby, come on."

The girls were hovering. What was wrong with him? Why had he gotten so mad at Ben? He just wanted to go to bed. "Let's go upstairs. I can walk," he said in a low voice. Ben helped him up and he went into the house, with everyone following him, watching.

They passed Gus' bedroom. The little boy flicked a glance at the procession before his attention to returned to the caged gerbil who was scurrying around. Michael felt a flash of empathy for the creature--boxed in, the limits of his life defined for him.

He sat on the bed and started to untie his running shoes. He was still in his work out clothes, from his aborted trip to the gym. He was shivering in earnest now. Thoughts pushed into his consciousness; thoughts he tried to keep at bay. Michael felt miserable, unable to meet his eyes. "I'm so sorry. I don't know why I yelled at you," he said softly. He felt so ashamed. He didn't deserve this man.

"Come on, baby. Get under the covers." Ben was treating him kindly, carefully, like a fragile thing. Indeed, he felt that he might shatter into pieces, the chill went so deep. Ben shucked off his own tee-shirt and climbed in behind him, molding to his body, rubbing his arms and legs to warm him up.

"I'm telling the girls that we're leaving tomorrow." Michael nodded his head. At least Ben didn't say that only he and Hunter were leaving tomorrow. Oh shit. Now he really was losing it. The tears leaked out. Downstairs, he could hear his daughter fussing.

Ben hugged him closer. "We have to go, Michael. This visit is tearing you up -- and now this. You had a huge panic attack, flashback, whatever you call it, out there. You're scaring the shit out of me." Ben's voice cracked--he was breaking, too. "We have to get some perspective on this thing with Jenny. And we're going to get you checked out. This isn't just some sort of startle reflex. You actually blacked out for a couple of minutes. Has this happened before?"

Michael shook his head. Not like this, it hadn't.

Ben continued quietly, patiently. "I do see all the same things you're seeing. I am on your side. They aren't happy here. We've told them about the house, you've told them how you feel and made a good argument for them to come back home. But now, they have to process it all, just like we do. You can't force them to make a decision this weekend."

Michael finally turned around. The mix of emotions -- love, concern and hurt -- on Ben's face about broke his heart. He was right. This had to stop. "Ben, I..." His voice, his air, clog the back of his throat, so he stopped, swallowed and started again. "Ben, I'm sorry..."

"What are you sorry for? This isn't your fault."

"I'm sorry I got so out of control. It's just that when you said I was playing Lindsay against Melanie, I just... lost it." It was much worse than he was admitting. He'd been livid, almost ready to hit Ben. All of his frustration over everything, aimed at the one person who stood by him through all of it. "I'm not exactly in the running for Parent or Husband of the Year," he said. He wanted to laugh, show that he was all right, but the stark truth of this statement was so blatant that he couldn't muster up any fake humor.

He wished he could explain to Ben how it had been, how the anger had washed over him. It suddenly struck him that he was becoming something ugly, someone that Ben wouldn't continue to emotionally support, might stop loving, someone you wouldn't want influencing a child. What would become of him, if he lost Ben, Hunter, lost Jenny, his integrity, his self-respect? The answer to that question -- the aching loneliness, the dreadful, emptiness -- had literally, brought him to his knees.

He was in a very dangerous place. He had to back off or there was a chance he could lose everything. They couldn't sort it all out now, but he knew he couldn't go on like this.

Ben touched his face and scattered those dark thoughts. "I'm sorry, too. I feel for Gus and I know he misses Brian." Ben's voice was quiet and full of apology. "I don't blame you for trying to talk to Lindsay. I took a cheap shot at you. This is such a fucking mess and I can't stand how bad this makes you feel... and I don't know how to fix it." Ben cleared his throat. "I seem to recall a time when I was losing it and you were the one who made me face up to that and stood by me. Let me do the same for you. You and I have a life to get back to. Hunter needs us, too."

Michael nodded and hugged Ben, hard, trying to convey his love, to ask for forgiveness. Not trusting his voice, they just lay quietly, holding each other for a few minutes. To his relief, when he finally opened his mouth, normal sounding words came out. "You should go have some dinner and let them know about tomorrow. Hunter might be feeling worried. Tell everyone I needed to sleep or tell them I have the flu. Tell them... whatever..." He was too tired to think.

"I'll handle it. You rest." Ben kissed him, but made no move to leave. Michael was grateful for Ben's arms around him, relaxing into his loving embrace until sleep overtook him.

Ben tiptoed out of the room and quietly closed the door behind him, holding his breath lest he wake Michael. He turned and the air left his lungs in a rush.

"Hunter. You startled me."

"Is he okay?" Hunter asked. "He looked like hell."

With a hand on Hunter's shoulder, Ben directed them both away from the door. "Let's go. I don't want to wake him." He really wanted to step out of the house and clear his head of all the emotional garbage, but he was reluctant to be that far from Michael. Instead, he ducked into Gus' room, sitting on a chair only to realize how drained he was by the tension of the past few days.. He shivered and looked down at himself. He almost laughed when he realized he'd forgotten to put a shirt on. Good thing he'd left his pants on, otherwise everyone would be getting quite a show.

"What happened?" Hunter asked.

For all of Hunter's gangly height, the deepening of his voice and the experience in his eyes, he could still look and sound so young. Ben wished he could shield him from this, from further proof that time didn't necessarily impart the wisdom to solve all problems. That 'maturity' didn't make life less screwed up.

"I'm not sure," Ben said at first, but the increased distress on Hunter's face prompted him to continue. "He didn't get much sleep and you know how stressed out he's been. Come to think of it, he hardly ate anything at lunch today, after he went off with Danny. I guess it all caught up with him." He didn't mention the argument, though it would have been hard for anyone within a one-block radius to miss it. "He'll get some sleep and he'll feel much better."

Hunter looked more than a little skeptical. "You sure that's all it is, 'cause the last time he did this--"

Ben's head jerked up with his astonishment. "The last time? What do you mean the 'last' time?"

Hunter looked startled. "You know. When he fell off the ladder."

Of course. Ben had never been totally satisfied with the 'foot slipping' scenario. People who weren't used to climbing ladders tended to be extra careful and Michael always seemed vague about the reason for his fall. With this information, Ben could better understand why. He made himself respond calmly.

"He told me a noise startled him and that's why he fell. You're saying he told you something different?"

"I dunno. Maybe you should just ask him."

"I did ask him, but there seems to be more that I should know. Has this type of thing happened before? Other than those two times?" At Hunter's look of stubborn resistance, Ben had his answer. "Why would he hide it from me? Why would both of you?"

"Maybe he thought you'd flip out."

"I'm not flipping out!" Ben stopped when he realized he'd raised his voice again. "Look, I don't mean to take this out on you. These past few weeks have been a lot to digest."

"No shit," Hunter rejoined with a flippant quirk of his eyebrow.

"We've decided to head home tomorrow morning, so, take a look around tonight and gather your stuff. If you don't mind, would you sleep in the den again? I don't want to wake him up putting your bed together."

"No problem." Hunter agreed. He didn't look disappointed with the news that he'd be back home for part of the weekend.

Ben stood and squeezed his shoulder. "He's going to be fine, don't worry. I'm going to get a shirt on and head downstairs. It smells like dinner is almost ready."

Down in the kitchen, Lindsay was putting the finishing touches on dinner. Mel sat with Gus and Jenny while they finished their dinners. "How's he doing?" Mel asked when Ben walked in.

"He's resting. Okay if Hunter sleeps in the den again?"

"I want Hunter to sleep in my room!" Gus piped up.

"Not this time, sweetie," Mel directed at Gus. "If you're done eating, go get into your PJs." Gus bolted from the table. "And be quiet. Uncle Michael is trying to sleep," she called after him. "Sure, he can stay there. So what happened? Did he just...pass out?"

"We're not really sure. Apparently he's had a couple of episodes this month.

"Episodes? Do you think they're seizures?" Lindsay wondered aloud. "I've heard that can mean a brain injury, like a tumor or lesion" She looked with worry at Ben. He shrugged, looking grim -- the thought had already crossed his mind, but he didn't want to go there.

Mel put her hand on his arm. "I'm sure it's not anything like that. The guy is wound up tighter than a drum! We were talking last night about what a hell of a year you've had: Vic dying, our baby troubles, the bomb, your struggles with Hunter and this thing with his dad. It's not all bad stress, necessarily, but stress none the less. And he's not exactly the most mild-natured person, to begin with. We're so glad you have each other to go through it all with."

He could have pointed out that Melanie was none too mild natured herself, but he was touched that she was able to express such frank caring and understanding. There was hope for them all yet. He smiled at her and squeezed her hand. "Thanks, Mel. You know, despite everything, you both have been wonderful, true friends. We try to never lose sight of that." There was a moment of shiny-eyed looks exchanged, between the three of them, when J.R. decided she'd had enough dinner and picked up her sippy cup, tossing it off her tray.

"Oh, no, Jenny. Don't throw things." Mel retrieved it and looked Ben over. "Did she get you? I don't know why she does that."

"I think it's from Michael's side," Ben said with a grin.

"You're right!" Lindsay giggled. "I've seen Deb throw stuff at the diner on a couple of occasions."

"Michael too," Ben confided a little guiltily, "when he can't get my attention, he'll pitch stuff at me." They all laughed. Ben's smile faded a little. "Listen, we're going to head home tomorrow morning. I want to get him checked out as soon as possible and you could probably use a couple of quiet days."

"Does Michael know that's the plan?"

Ben nodded, trying to convey how unhappy Michael was at the thought of leaving. "Believe it or not. We don't want to cut our time short with Jenny Rebecca, but we know you have important issues to work on and..." He didn't know how blunt he should be. To hell with it; he was too tired and upset to tip-toe around this issue anymore. "Neither of us is happy about it, but, look, we want you to have some time alone to think about Carl's offer of the house. You know how anxious we are for you to reconsider this move. I forgot to tell you, there are pictures online that you can go to, to see some exterior and interior photos. We put them up, thinking you might like to see it. I'll give you the address after dinner."

Lindsay and Mel looked at each other, then at Ben, and nodded, He took the neutral looks to mean they had every intention of talking. "Dinner's ready," Lindsay said, turning of all of the burners. "We'll just let it set while you change Jenny into her pajamas. Ben and I will clear these dishes and get the table set.

The next thing Michael was aware of was the dim, early morning light. He'd slept hard. Never felt Ben come to bed, never conscious of waking even once during the night.

This morning, the situation seemed clear. By devoting all of this energy to keeping Jenny, he might actually lose everything he loved most. It was right out of the 'I Ching' or one of those Eastern philosophy books--the harder you hold on, the looser your grip or something like that.

He got up to use the bathroom then climbed back in bed to hold Ben.

Ben folded him into an embrace in his half sleep state. Michael kissed his chest and neck. "Hey, you," he whispered, when he saw Ben's eyes open.

"Hey, yourself. How are you feelin'?"

"Just fine. Can't you tell?" He kissed Ben's lips, gently, lingeringly.

"You've brushed. Want me to?"

"I'm minty enough for both of us."

"Uh, maybe we shouldn't push our luck here, baby."

"What? It's early and no one's awake yet."

"No, I mean, your attacks or whatever..."

"Honey, you are a fantastic lover, but I don't think you've ever fucked me into unconsciousness." Ben smirked. "But let's go for it. I'm game."

"Very funny, but I'm serious."

Michael's smile faded and he spoke deliberately. He wanted Ben to understand that he too was concerned about the blackout and his other spells. And they both knew, with Ben's HIV, there was a real possibility that a day would soon come when Michael would worry that touching Ben might hurt him. He was damned if he'd let Ben pull away from him now. "Let's make a pact, Ben. If there ever comes a day when I think making love with you might hurt me, I'll tell you. And you promise the same to me, okay?"

A small, sincere smile played on Ben's face, he looked into Michael's eyes and said, "My plan has always been to die in your arms."

Michael was taken aback by the sobriety of the comment, but nodded his understanding. He found Ben's hand, under the covers and interlaced their fingers, murmuring, "Deal." Snuggling closer, he nudged the pillow talk in a lighter direction. "Hopefully, we'll be two very old geezers who make a lover's death pledge and take the leap together. But until then," he pulled his hand free and traced circles around Ben's nipple with his fingertip, "don't ever hold off from touching me 'cause you think I'm too fragile. I'm not going to break." Michael nuzzled his neck. "I know you're concerned and so am I, but..." he whispered with hot breath in Ben's ear. "We're alone in bed and it's too early to get up." With the tip of his tongue, he traced it's contours. "I love you so much." He sucked the earlobe. Ben moaned and turned his head, seeking Michael's warm mouth again with more urgency than before. "You know I wasn't mad at you last night, don't you?"

"'Course I do. Don't talk about that right now."

"We don't have to talk at all," Michael promised. He cupped the nape of Ben's neck and pulled them together for another kiss. He could live on this -- the feel of Ben's lips on his, the scrape of morning stubble that left his face singing, the way Ben moaned into his mouth. It all sent a thrill to the pit of his stomach.

And then Ben was touching him and that was even better. Just on his hip, but with a sure, soothing hand that made it feel like Ben was stroking the most sensitive erogenous zone. More, Michael thought, almost begged out loud, but he'd said no talking, so he bit his lip and pushed into Ben's hand, touched Ben in the same way, only harder, molding the flesh beneath his hand, willing Ben to understand.

Ben must have gotten the message because he urged Michael onto his stomach and kneaded Michael's back, interspersing his touch with kisses, before offering the same to Michael's arms and legs.

Michael groaned. This was good, but not enough and he almost said so, but then Ben was lying on top of him, grinding into him and there was no need to break the silence. Michael felt weightless... except that wasn't exactly right. No, what he felt was grounded. Ben's body was anchoring him. Ben's tongue down his spine felt huge and hot, like it would never let him up.

The solidness of Ben -- his hot skin, the weight of his muscled arms and legs, seemed to reach into Michael until he felt like his own body didn't exist by itself. And then Ben was inside him, slippery and cool at first, but not for long. The thin barrier of latex didn't mask Ben's heat and Michael moved into it, letting it warm and fill him until he felt like he was overflowing.

He must have fallen asleep again, because the next time he opened his eyes, the sun was brighter and Ben was already up and dressed. He sat up and accepted the coffee that Ben offered him, savoring the caffeine and sugar like a lifeline. When he noticed Ben's grin, he croaked, "What?" in a sleep-hoarsened voice.

"Nothing," Ben responded, though his grin stretched wider.

Michael's suspicion grew. "You're not smiling like that over nothing. What is it?"

"Just something you said."

"I don't remember half of what I said, so just tell me. Was I talking in my sleep or something?"

Ben sat on the bed, dropped a kiss on Michael's nose, and said, "You were wrong."

"About...?"

Ben leaned forward and whispered something into Michael's ear.

Michael's jaw dropped and he remained speechless while he watched the smug grin that didn't leave Ben's face and his confident swagger as he crossed the room toward the dresser. Ben had the suitcase out and was starting to pack, by the time Michael regained his wits. "I was not unconscious. I fell asleep!"

"Sure, honey."

Michael growled, "Yeah, you wish!" and tossed a pillow at Ben, who ducked and promptly burst into laughter. "Oh, what are you laughing at now? I know my aim isn't the best, but it wasn't that funny."

Ben got his laughter under control and returned to Michael's side. "Sorry. I'm just happy to see you acting like yourself." He plucked a feather from Michael's hair. "And these aren't our pillows so you'd better quit throwing them around. I was listening."

"Well, maybe you should stop laughing at me if you're not going to fill me in on the joke," Michael grumbled, though his upset was all for show. Just like he hoped, Ben hugged him and rubbed his back in apology.

"No joke. I'm just glad to see you look a little more relaxed. And this morning was very... uh, relaxing for me too."

Michael nuzzled his lips against Ben's neck. "Just wait 'til we get home and I'll show you relaxed."

Part 12

Ben did a final visual sweep of the room before picking up the last bag. He brought it out to the car, where he found Hunter loading up the trunk. "Are you sure you got everything?"

"Yup. I'm ready to roll."

"Good. If we get on the road within the next half an hour, we should be home before five."

"Where's Michael?"

"Backyard. With Jenny -- doin' the long goodbye." They exchanged a knowing look at this, usually the hardest part of the trip for Michael, but this visit had been hard from start to finish. "Do you think Michael is glad he got to see his father?" Hunter asked, his eyes downcast as if examining something on his shoe.

"Yeah, I do, but it wasn't easy. I think he'll talk about it with you, after he's had a chance to absorb it."

"I'm not ready to talk to mine."

Ben was surprised that Hunter would choose this time to bring up his father, but wanted to make space for what ever was on his mind to come out. He nodded his understanding. "Your situation is much more complex. Danny never knew about Michael, so Michael has no issues with him, directly."

"I could barely talk to Danny, just knowing how freaked out Michael was about the whole thing. And I don't really care about him, one way or the other. The thought of talking to my father makes me feel... kind of... " he expelled his breath, "awful."

"No one is going to force you to have a close relationship with Danny. Just be pleasant and respectful, like you would to any of our friends." He put his arm around Hunter's shoulder. "And we've already told you, contact with either of your parents is going to be entirely on your terms from now on."

Hunter was silent but didn't seem quite at the stopping point yet, so Ben offered the only advice he really knew to. "One thing I've done, since I was your age, when I had a lot of strong feelings or was confused about something, is to just write it out." He waited for the eye roll that would say 'That's dumb. I'm not like you,' but it didn't come, so he continued. "Anything that came to my mind about it, no grammar, no holds barred, no matter how disgusting, angry or stupid it might sound to someone else, I put it down. It was just a way for me to get it out. No one else ever saw it. Sometimes I'd keep those things around to look at again or sometimes I'd actually burn 'em." He paused only a moment. "We have a nice burn barrel in our backyard." Hunter finally looked up at him, with his understanding smirk. "I'm going to get Michael." He gave Hunter's shoulders an extra squeeze and released him.

"Why don't you start the car in a few minutes and let the engine warm up?" At the light in Hunter's eyes, he cautioned, "You are not, under any circumstances, to take it out of park."

"Who me?" Hunter said, batting his eyes with innocence.

"Yes, you. I aim to get this rental back in one piece," Ben joked before leaving. Intending to take the quickest way, straight through the house, he jogged up the front steps, only stopping when he spied Gus sitting on a small bench, in a far corner of the porch. The little boy was balancing Jervis' cage on his knee and staring into it with a morose expression. Ben went over and sat beside him. He reached out and brushed the hair out of Gus' eyes. "You're looking kind of sad there. Are you all right? " Gus nodded, but his pout grew and, if Ben wasn't mistaken, those were tears tipping the ends of Gus' lashes.

"You know we'll be back to visit, right? Until then, we'll send lots of letters and pictures."

Gus sniffed and hugged the cage tighter. "Uncle Mikey was supposed to write Jervis a story, but he forgot."

Ben felt another pang of regret about their aborted visit. "Uncle Mikey didn't get a chance to because he wasn't feeling very well, but I'm sure he didn't forget."

"He said he had to get to know Jervis, but now he's goin' home and Jervis is going back to school."

Wow! Two chances to inspire the use and love of the written word, in young minds. The teacher in Ben couldn't resist. "I'll bet you can think of all sorts of things that you can write to help tell the story, couldn't you?"

"Uh uh. I only know how to write my name."

Okay, so the journal idea wasn't a perfect fit for everyone, but years working with students had taught Ben to improvise. "I'm sure your moms will help you when they can and when they can't, you could draw a picture, instead. You could even make a book."

Gus tilted his head, clearly intrigued by this new idea. "Like Uncle Mikey?"

"Yes."

"And Uncle Justin?"

"Sure, but you could do it your way."

"Can I send you pictures, too, Uncle Ben?"

"Absolutely. We have the perfect place to put them, so everyone can see."

"And my dad? Can I send him one?"

Ben nodded, moved by the longing in Gus' voice. He didn't think he was making false promises when he replied, "I'm sure he'd love it." He and Brian might have had their rough moments and he didn't think of Brian as a model father, but he knew the man cared about his son.

Gus pressed his face against the cage, sending Jervis scurrying to the other side when the cage tilted. "I wish Jervis could draw, too."

Ben rubbed Gus' back. "You can do it for him. You can help him just like your family helps you."

Gus turned to face Ben and smiled. "I can do that."

Crisis averted. Ben smiled back, stood and stretched his legs. "You want some help putting that cage back in your room? I think Jervis has had enough fresh air for the day and I bet Uncle Mikey wants to give you a goodbye hug."

They got Jervis squared away and headed to the backyard. Ben stood for a moment, watching. Michael was walking the length of the small yard, holding Jenny in his arms and talking to her. He always did this, at the end of every visit. Ben often wondered what he said, but he figured Michael needed a few moments to impart whatever fatherly wisdom he thought she needed. Or maybe he was telling her silly jokes. Either way, she seemed to be content there and Ben never intruded until he absolutely had to. He squatted to Gus' level. "Looks like Uncle Mikey needs a few more minutes with your sister. If you want, you can make a picture for your dad, now, so we can bring it to him."

"Okay! My crayons are in my room!" Gus tore off to make his picture, leaving Ben who sat on the steps and waited.

His rear end had gone numb before Michael finally traced his steps back to the porch. His nose and cheeks were red, but he was dry-eyed and smiling.

"I'm ready to go. You?" he said, as he nuzzled his cheek against the baby's.

Ben stood and wrapped them both in his arms. He kissed the top of Jenny's head, then Michael's brow. "Whenever you are."

Inside, they handed Jenny off to Lindsay. Then it was time for another round of noisy kisses and heartfelt bear hugs. Gus pressed a large envelope containing his newly drawn picture into Ben's hand, extracting a solemn promise that his father would get it as soon as they saw him.

Melanie took Michael's hands. "We'll call you," she said with emphasis. She didn't say a word about Carl's house or about moving, but Ben could see a new thoughtfulness in her eyes that hadn't been there a few days ago. He could only hope it was a harbinger of a decision that would make them all happy.

The women huddled together with the kids, standing in front of the house and waving until they were mere specks through the rear windshield. Michael waved one last time, though they couldn't possibly see him, and settled in his seat. "Thanks for driving," he told Ben. "I can take the wheel after an hour." He reclined the seat so he could lean back. "I could use a nap," he said around a yawn.

"Nap?" Hunter said. "You slept all morning!"

Michael coughed. "I must have been tossing and turning," he said.

Ben couldn't resist. "I'm surprised. It looked to me like you were knocked out -- practically unconscious." Michael's glare promised retribution so Ben didn't push it. It was enough that he could take secret pleasure in the blush on Michael's face. "Don't worry, baby. The weather's nice and the traffic is light. I can probably drive straight through without a problem." While this was all true, he wasn't about to let Michael drive after blacking out the way he did, but if he didn't have to tell him that, he wouldn't.

From the back seat, Hunter piped in with, "I offered to do some driving, but someone said no."

Ben eyed Hunter in the rear view mirror. "I know you've got your permit, but you haven't started Driver's Ed."

"No time like the present, I always say."

"Funny. You never say that when we ask you to clean your room."

"Oh, forget it," Hunter grumbled, slumping back in the seat and picking up his magazine. "You guys are totally obsessed with housework. It's like a sickness. You'd think I had two moms instead of two dads."

Two dads. Ben held the steering wheel a little tighter, wishing he could pull over and hug Hunter without the boy complaining loud and long about how sappy he was being. He looked over at Michael, hoping he wasn't the only one who had caught the offhand remark.

Michael was leaning back against the headrest, lids at half-mast. A small smile broke across his face before he turned away to gaze at the passing scenery. But his hand crept across the seat and he laid it on Ben's thigh, squeezing in a quiet moment of shared understanding.

Michael leaned in the doorway of Brian's office, watching his friend swivel in his chair while sweet talking a client on the phone. Brian hung up the phone and shook his head. "They make it too easy sometimes," he said with a smug grin.

"Show off," Michael accused.

"Is it showing off if it's the truth?"

"Yes."

Brian stood and circled his desk to give Michael a hug. "Get in here. Sit. How was the trip? Want something to drink?"

"Eventful," Michael replied after a loaded silence. "Just water, please."

Brian pulled a bottle of Pellegrino from the small fridge in his office, poured Michael a glass, and handed it over. "Melanie was her usual bitchy self, I take it?"

"She had her moments, but it wasn't all her. I got in a few licks."

"You? The original Mary Sunshine?"

"Save the Sunshine nicknames for your... what is Justin now? Your long-distance...?"

"My business," Brian said without hostility. "Let me worry about the labels." He sat on the edge of the desk. "So spill."

Between sips of water, Michael told Brian about the tug of war with Melanie and Lindsay, the blackouts and their meeting with Danny. By the time he was done, his mouth was so dry, he asked for more water.

Brian offered him the second glass and said, "That was... eventful."

"Told you."

"And what's with the swooning? Do I need to stock up on smelling salts?"

Beneath the casual way he asked, Michael could sense Brian's concern. "It's not really all that serious." He looked up and was surprised to see what could only be described as worry in Brian's expression. "Honestly! I would have told you."

"Right. You've had how many of them?"

"Hey, when you had cancer, I had to find out from Justin, so don't give me hard time about this!"

Brian nodded in concession. "Touché. Now that we've exchanged mutual digs, tell me what the hell is going on."

"I have some tests scheduled."

Brian accepted this explanation without argument. After a moment, he commented. "I'm surprised."

"By what?"

"I knew you didn't like the whole Toronto thing, but I didn't think you'd face off with them about it -- not after you gave them your blessing the first time around."

"Trust me, I've been regretting that for a while. I was just so fucking scared about what was going on here that I couldn't fight them on it."

"And you're not anymore?"

"Things aren't perfect. Far from it. But they're not so bad as to make it worth sending her to another country. I don't want her growing up thinking that running away is the best choice. And I don't want her growing up without me."

"Daddy dearest."

"Don't tell me that you're still totally fine with it."

"If I did, would you believe me?"

"No." While he tended to charge in, Brian had made a strategic retreat. Others might read that as disinterest, but Michael knew that it was self-protection. "I know you."

"Guess there's no point in trying to fool you, then."

Michael looked fondly at his, at times, exasperating friend. "Nope, there isn't. Gus was asking about you."

"Here we go."

"No guilt trips this time, I swear. I just had a message for you." He handed Brian the manila envelope. "Ben and I promised to hand deliver this one. Expect more in the mail."

Brian opened the envelope and pulled out a sheet of beige construction paper. He stared at it for a long time, in silence, before he asked, "Did you see it?"

"No. Ben said it might be sort of personal."

Brian handed it over. Michael examined the colorful drawing. On one side, two skirted stick figures stood, one with yellow hair and the other with dark brown. Between them, they held a smaller female with curly, light brown hair. A tall, masculine figure, topped with brown hair, filled the other side of the paper. Between the two sides, a younger male stood, holding hands with the man and one of the women. He had brown eyes and brown hair, just like his namesake, and a big smile covered his face. Scrawled across the top, in childish letters, were the words "My Family."

Michael looked up at Brian's grave expression. "I think Lindsay helped him with the spelling."

"Probably. Last time I saw him, he could only write the letter 'g'."

"It's a nice picture."

Brian's eyes left Michael's and focused on the paper in Michael's hands. "Of course it is. He's a bright kid. Takes after his old man."

"Yup, he sure does. He reminds me a lot of you as a kid."

"Michael..."

"I'm not here to give you a hard time. If you're really okay with things the way they are, then... I guess that's the way it is, but I have to try."

"Okay. Good luck."

"That's it? You're not gonna tell me I should back off?"

"No way. Besides, if you talk them into it... I guess I wouldn't mind. I might even owe you."

It might not be the full concession he'd hoped for, but Michael couldn't have been happier. "I'll hold you to that."

Brian smiled. "You're on."

Grouchy with hunger and fatigue, Michael searched his pockets for his keys. "Did I ever tell you how much I hate tests?"

"Only three or four times since I picked you up," Ted replied cheerfully. "You okay, there? You look a little woozy. Are you sure they didn't let you go too early?"

Michael leaned against the porch railing and took a breather before resuming his pocket search. "I'm fine. That sedative was great stuff. I just feel a little drunk." After having an attack when they had tried the MRI the first time, Dr. Tyler had insisted that Michael take something to keep him calm. That also meant he had to do the test on an empty stomach. His stomach growled as if to remind him. "Thanks for picking me up, by the way. It was the only way I could get Ben to stay home and get Hunter's dinner ready instead of watching him pace at the hospital for hours. Besides, I'd hate to throw up in a cab."

"What are friends for? Any time you need transportation slash vomit basin, I'm your man."

"Just be thankful it didn't come to that." Michael giggled, rummaging through his pocket for the elusive house key.

"Believe me, I'm very thankful. So is my upholstery." Ted watched him, thinking how much he cared for him and hoping like hell all of this testing would yield nothing ominous. "Why don't you just knock -- Ben's home, right?"

Just then, the front door swung open, throwing off Michael's balance again. He grabbed the storm door handle to help steady himself.

Ben stood there in an apron and a concerned face. "Where have you been? Sorry, I didn't realize I never unlocked the front door. Why didn't you just ring the bell? I've been worried about you! How did it go?"

Michael gave him a quizzical smile, as his mind worked on the answer to 'Where have you been?' But all of Ben's other questions were mixing him up so, instead he just asked two of his own. "Where's Hunter? Still in school?"

"School? It's almost five. He's probably with some friends or something. You were supposed to be here over an hour ago!" He stepped back to let them in, throwing a questioning look at Ted.

"Oh, my God, it smells good in here." Michael eased past him and headed straight for the kitchen, while Ted explained to Ben, "I tried to call once, but for some reason I couldn't use the cell phone in the hospital. We kept thinking it would just be a few more minutes but the radiology department was backed up, so we had to wait around quite a while. And then they made him wait until the sedative wore off... or mostly wore off."

Ted smiled, nodding in Michael's direction so Ben would notice that he was still pretty wobbly.

Michael was at the stove, lifting pan lids as he stood there, trying to decide which pot to eat out of. "I'm so hungry."

Ben stepped over to him and steered him to the table to sit down. "Hunter should be here any minute. We'll be eating really soon. So, what did they say? Could they tell you anything?"

"No. The doctor has to read the results. It'll be at least three days, the technician said. Could I please have some water?"

Ted interjected. "Well, I'm going to take off and let Michael give you the blow-by-blow account. I know you two have a big celebration to get ready for. Too bad this all had to happen on the same day." He gave Michael an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder. "I can see myself out. Talk to you later, Michael. Let us know all your good news when you get it."

"Bye, Teddy," Michael said, stifling a yawn and patting Ted's hand.

"Thanks so much, Ted, for going with him," Ben called over his shoulder as he got a glass of water for Michael. Handing Michael the glass, he noticed how worn out he looked. "Why don't you rest on the couch until Hunter gets here. I have a sauce to make and then we'll set the table and eat as soon as he gets home."

"Okay, but I hope he gets here soon." Michael headed for the living room and Ben looked up at the clock.

They'd planned a special dinner tonight to celebrate the official declaration of his adoption. Deb and Carl were planning a big deal, whole-family dinner for the weekend but Michael and Ben wanted this to just be the three of them, all happy and hopeful. He was dreading it.

Ben was making his favorite foods and Michael had made that mess of a Betty Crocker, triple-layer, Chocolate Cake that he'd first made for Hunter's birthday. He'd seen it in the refrigerator when he'd gone home. Michael must have made it this morning, after he'd left for school. It looked like a disaster but nothing like the disaster he'd seen on Michael's computer screen, a few minutes later, when the monitor had snapped back 'awake' at a touch of the mouse.

It was late, but he'd decided to go home and face them, before he packed his stuff and left. As he rode his bike through the dark, Hunter thought, for the umpteenth time, about the words he'd seen:

Dizziness: Lightheadedness and Vertigo

You have answered "Yes" to a question that indicates you may need immediate care. Call your health professional now to discuss your symptoms and arrange for your care.

• Symptoms are likely to worsen without medical care.
• If you do not have a health professional, seek emergency care.
• Emergency transportation is not needed. However, if you are not able to travel safely either by driving yourself or having someone else drive you, call an ambulance.

Alarmed, he'd hit the 'undo' arrow and seen the previous page that Michael and/or Ben had been looking at. It was a page headed: What tests are used to find and diagnose adult brain tumors? followed by a list of tests used for diagnosis. Michael was having some kind of a test today. Suddenly, it had all clicked -- the fall off the ladder and passing out at J.R.'s house. It still made him sick to his stomach, just thinking about it. Michael had a brain tumor. And they were trying to hide it from him!

He'd left the house terrified and over the past couple of hours his fear had morphed into fury. Fuckin' Ben and his 'write it out' bullshit! he thought. He wanted to scream, hit somebody and just... his life was cursed! He'd never trust anyone again. He rode harder, the icy wind stinging his tear stained cheeks and freezing the snot that was streaming down his face. He was almost there. He threw his bike into the garage and mopped his face. He'd been right all along. Life sucked!

"He just rode in. He's only forty-five minutes late. Don't make a big deal out of it." Ben put the heat on under the sauce he'd let cool, when Hunter didn't show up at the appointed dinner hour.

"But I'm starving!" Michael had actually slept for most of the time, but now he was ravenous. "He knew about tonight! Why of all times, does he have to pick this day to be late? This is just like something Brian would... " the words died on his lips as they got a look at Hunter coming in the back door. He stood facing them, with his jaw muscles working, his eyes hard, filled with anger. "Hunter, what's the matter?" Ben moved towards him, reaching his hand to touch him.

He stepped back, shouting in their faces in a futile attempt to avoid the sob that escaped him. "That's what I want to know! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Michael looked scared.

"The fuckin' brain tumor!"

Ben and Michael looked at each other and Ben explained, "We don't know anything yet, Hunter. Michael's got some tests scheduled to rule that possibility out."

Now Hunter was confused and pitched his voice a notch lower. "But I saw the site on the computer... "

Michael looked guilty but relieved, "Oh, that. I was just sort of checking stuff out -- reading up on symptoms and what the tests were going to be like. It's really just a precaution. We don't know anything for sure yet, but the doctor doesn't think that's what it is. I was still on the computer when Ted got here and I ran out. I must have forgotten to close the window." It dawned on him that one of the few people who had cared for Hunter -- the neighbor woman -- had disappeared from his life. And there was no telling how many other connections Hunter had made -- on the street, in foster care -- that had been permanently severed without warning or explanation. No wonder seeing those pages had scared him so much. "I'm sorry that it... I'm sorry."

Hunter stood there looking shaken. Ben turned the sauce off again, saying, "Come sit down in the living room and we'll tell you all we know."

Much later, after enjoying the delicious dinner that had gotten kind of dried out and devouring an amazing chunk of the big chocolate lump whose top layer had finally slide right off the side of the plate, Hunter lay in bed thinking. Once he'd realized they really only knew what he knew -- that Michael had had a few of these weird spells and his doctor was running some tests -- his anger had dissipated. But he was still upset. Worry was normal, wasn't it? They were worried too, but they promised that from now on, he'd be told, as every bit of new information was given.

He thought how ready he'd been, to leave them again, earlier. But this time he was surprised to find how very, very relieved he was to still be here, in his bed, feeling a lot of things, including sadness and fear, but not the same sort of sad or fear that living in all of the other places, including with his mother, had made him feel.

He smiled, thinking about how at one point, before dinner, Michael had joked, 'Why should I be the only one in the family without a life threatening disease?' and Ben had responded that "living was life-threatening. The best we can do is to reduce the threat to a minimum, surround ourselves with people we love and make the most of the time we have." Michael had leaned over to him and said, in this hokey, hillbilly voice, "I'm sure glad I hitched ma wagon to yers," then his stomach had let out this huge growl and they'd all laughed and Ben said they'd better feed him because low blood-sugar was addling his brain.

Hunter smiled in the dark, as a tear slipped down the side of his face and he decided not to wipe it off. He'd hitched his wagon to these two, gay, guys -- a crazy, little Italian, who liked the same movies he did, and a calm, super-man with a potentially, deadly disease -- the same one he had -- and he was... happy. He felt safe and loved. He got up and wrote two words in the journal they'd given him, when they'd asked him if they could be his legal dads.

Love hurts.

Epilogue

"Hey, I'm home." Ben called with his usual greeting as he came through the back door and into the front room. "Are you cleaning out that closet?" Michael was sitting on the floor in a tee-shirt and sweats, amongst the clutter of the front hall closet. Vacuum parts, boxes of Christmas decorations and tangled strings of colored lights spread around him.

Looking up, a little bleary eyed, he held up a mess of knotted wires. "Is it after four already? I've been working on these ever since I got back from the doctor's office."

Ben draped his coat and scarf over a chair and bent over to give him a kiss. "So, how'd it go? I got your message, but my phone battery was dying. I can't believe I forgot to charge it!"

"They tried, but they couldn't break me," Michael responded, triumphantly. "She used flashing lights and loud noises -- the works!"

"Oh baby, I'm so glad." The relief in Ben's voice was audible. This was the latest, in a series of tests that had all gone well. They'd both been thrilled when neither the CAT scan nor the MRI had turned up anything. Michael's doctor had a few more tests to run, hoping to rule out all other possibilities for his 'vapors' -- as Michael had taken to calling them. But since there had been no further incidents, emotional stress now seemed the likely culprit.

"Today, she cleared me to drive and operate heavy equipment."

"That is truly good news." Ben kissed him again to seal the statement. "Though I don't think either of us is going to see much of the new car, now that Hunter's driving." Ben plopped on the couch, watching Michael continue to fiddle with the lights.

"You need to be stronger, Ben, learn to say 'no'. I've told him you get first dibs on it for work. Anyway, he can't drive at night yet." Michael grinned over at him. "It's awful sweet how you keep calling that jalopy 'the new car'.

"Well, it's new to us. And it's not a jalopy. She's more of a Tin Lizzy and she runs great." Ben was already fond of the twelve year old Honda wagon that a colleague had practically given them. He'd been the sole owner, taken good care of it and it was the perfect car for Hunter to share with them. Not cool and not enough power to get too crazy with.

Michael just nodded and went back to the tangle. "Moving on to more important matters, Carl told the girls they could start bringing stuff to the house anytime. We should ask them if they'd like us to rent a truck on our next visit and bring a load back with us. And we need to get our tree up this weekend."

"I thought we were all going to your mom and Carl's for Christmas."

"Well, yeah, but don't you think it would be nice for Hunter and the kids to have one here, too? Mel, Linds and the kids will be visiting. And Brian never does any decorating. Besides, we have all this cool stuff." He held up a sprig of fake mistletoe.

"I think I know who it is that wants the Christmas tree -- and it isn't Hunter, Gus or Jenny Rebecca," Ben teased.

"Are you kidding? This is going to be the best Christmas ever -- Hunter's finally an official Novotny-Bruckner and J.R.'ll be back in a few months -- our life, our family is finally all coming together." Michael's happiness was palpable. "Last year was so crappy, I don't even want to think about it. Ahh, success." He tossed Ben one end of a newly freed string of lights. "Plug this in, will ya honey?" The string lit up. "There. Three strings ought to do it." He put the rest back in the box.

"Why don't you just pitch those?"

Michael shrugged, shoving the box aside. "I'll take 'em to the store and sort out the rest. I can use the good ones there." The phone started ringing. Ben answered it.

"Hi, pal. What's up? Hold on -- I'll let him tell you. He's right here." Ben turned, handing the phone to Michael.

"Hey. Yeah, it went great. They really pushed me, but nothing bad happened. I'm cleared to drive." Michael smiled at something Hunter said. "Don't worry, you'll get your time behind the wheel."

"Hold on, let me check with your father." Michael grinned over at Ben. "I love saying that! He wants to know if he can have dinner at Jess'. He'll be home by nine."

"It's okay with me. No later than nine though -- school tomorrow and I'll bet he has homework."

Michael put the phone back to his ear. "Sure, but nine's the limit. Can somebody bring you home? Thank you for letting us know. See you later." He put the phone down and went over to where Ben was looking through the decoration box.

"So, does this work like the real stuff?" Ben asked, picking up the phony mistletoe.

"I don't know." Michael took it from him and held it aloft, letting it dangle over his own head. Ben leaned in and gave him a long kiss, working his hands up under the tee-shirt, then down into the waistband of the sweats. "Oh," Michael said, a little breathless, when Ben momentarily released him. "I guess it does." He flipped the mistletoe into the box and put his arms around Ben's neck saying, "More, please."

"Let's go upstairs and celebrate our nearly normal, calm, relatively stress-free, state," Ben said, kissing his ear and giving it a soft nip.

"How about a glass of wine to toast it with? Is red good?" Michael headed to the kitchen.

"Perfect. I'll meet you in bed." Ben started up the stairs, when the phone rang again. "I'll get this one then let's let the machine pick up. Hello? Hi, Danny. I'm fine and you? Yup, he's right here."

Michael took the phone, "Hey," and held up two fingers to indicate that he'd make it quick. "How was Chicago? Great! You what? You and Kevin are coming to Pittsburgh for Christmas? We'd love it if you stayed with us."

Ben just shook his head and headed for the kitchen to pour the wine. So much for normal, calm and stress-free.

Deb was going to freak!