"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 sounded 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 surprise