CHAPTER 8

"Hmm, what?" Logan's mind was obviously still enmeshed in his work. "Oh, the phone call. That wasn't Todd, it was my mother. She and Dad are coming here for Thanksgiving."

Nathaniel stared at him in stricken silence as the plate he was holding slid from suddenly nerveless fingers. It hit the hardwood floor and fractured, sending splinters of stoneware everywhere.

With a muffled oath, he knelt to pick up the larger fragments, grateful for the chance to regain his composure before facing Logan again. He should have expected this, he realized dully. He should have known things were too good to be true, that the appearance of a home of his own where he was loved and wanted was only an illusion.

But it wasn't fair, he thought with a sudden spurt of rebellion. It might be Logan's loft but he lived here, too. Logan could have at least warned him before he invited them!

He unconsciously clenched his fists and a bright welling of blood appeared around the jagged shard of plate he held. The physical pain barely registered against the nearly overwhelming emotional pain and disillusionment.

"Thaniel?" Logan came around the end of the island, broom and dustpan in hand. "What-- Thaniel! Open your hand, babe, and let me see how bad it is." He grabbed the roll of paper towels from the counter and, kneeling beside the younger man, pressed a wad of them against his palm. "And you're barefoot, too. Hold on."

Nathaniel waited mutely as Logan quickly pulled a barstool over to the sink, then perched on it as directed.

"Do you feel dizzy? Do you need to put your head down?" Logan asked. "You're pale as a ghost."

Nathaniel shook his head miserably, barely hearing the questions as he leaned against the back of the wooden stool and allowed Logan to hold his hand under a stream of cold water. His mind was already engrossed, frantically running down a list of his options. He had already given up his apartment so that was out. Damn it, he knew he should have held onto it longer! But he had been so sure-- He jerked his mind back to the task at hand. First, he should call around and see if he could stay with one of his friends. None of them would have an extra bed but it wouldn't be the first time he had slept on the floor. He could buy a cheap sleeping bag and maybe a foam pad to put under it or even an air mattress.

"Wiggle your fingers for me, Thaniel," Logan ordered.

He automatically obeyed as his thoughts continued. Maybe he wouldn't even have to do that. Maybe he could afford a motel if it wasn't for too long. He had some money saved now and it didn't have to be a good one or an expensive one. He didn't need much, just a place to sleep and power for his laptop.

"When do I have to get out?" he asked as Logan rolled a clean cloth into a cylinder and gently wrapped his fingers around it. "And when can I come back?"

"Keep pressure on that while I sweep this up," Logan ordered. "Out of what?"

"Out of the loft. Ow! That hurts!" he yelped as he made a fist and suddenly became aware of the painful cuts scoring his palm and fingers.

"Nathaniel, what are you talking about?" Logan stopped what he was doing to stare at the younger man. "I'm not going to throw you out of the loft because you broke a plate. We'll just buy another one."

"No, because of your parents coming," Nathaniel corrected. "When are they going to get here? And I am still working for you, right?" he added anxiously as another possibility struck him. "Even if I'm not living here?"

"What do you mean, if you're not living here? You think I'm going to kick you out because my parents are coming?" Logan asked in disbelief.

Nathaniel ducked his head at the tone but Logan put one finger beneath his chin and raised it again. "You did think that. Oh, Thaniel."

His tone was more sorrowful than angry, leaving Nathaniel utterly confused. What else was he supposed to think? That Logan would openly live with him - sleep with him - while his parents were there?

He couldn't picture casually explaining to his own parents that he was sleeping with another man, but it didn't take much imagination to know exactly what the results would be. First would come the shouting and the crying, the accusations and incriminations. Then his mother would start wringing her hands and praying while his father took off his belt and-- He cut off that thought with the ease of long practice as another possibility occurred to him. "They are staying here, aren't they?" he asked uncertainly. "They'll be using the guest room?"

"Yes, but that shouldn't be a problem. It's not like you sleep in it anymore," Logan teased as he got the first aid kit from the cupboard. "Let me see your hand."

Nathaniel held it out obediently, still confused. "But-- I guess I can sleep on the couch while they're here," he said doubtfully. "So they'll think I usually sleep in the guest room. Ouch! That hurts, Logan!" He tried to snatch his hand back as the other man opened his fingers and spread ointment across the cuts.

"You can sleep upstairs where you belong," Logan told him firmly, taking a roll of gauze from the kit and beginning to wrap it around his hand.

"But there's only one bed. They'll know we're sleeping together!"

"Would you stop arguing?" Logan asked in exasperation. "They already know we're sleeping together. I've told them all about you."

"All?" Nathaniel blanched.

"Well, not all," Logan amended. "But I've told them a lot about you." He taped the end of the gauze, then held out his hand. "Let's go sit down and talk for a few minutes, ok?"

"But I need to finish sweeping up the mess I made and make your lunch--"

"Thaniel, you're arguing again."

"Sorry," Nathaniel apologized sheepishly as he followed Logan to the brown leather sofa in front of the fireplace.

Logan sat down and, when Thaniel sat on the other end, reached out and drew him closer. Nathaniel resisted for a moment and then, with a small sigh, slid down and put his head on Logan's chest.

Hinx immediately leaped up onto Logan's lap and Nathaniel stroked the thick, soft fur as he asked, "How much did you tell them about me?"

"Not what you're thinking," Logan assured him. "I've mentioned you in a lot of our conversations but I haven't told them anything about your past. They know that you're my research assistant, that we're living together and that you're very special to me." He stroked the blond head resting on his chest. "Don't worry so much, Thaniel. They won't bite. They know you make me happy and they want to meet you, that's all."

"They probably want to see if I'm taking advantage of you," Nathaniel contradicted gloomily.

Logan chuckled. "Given the difference in age, they're probably coming to see if I'm taking advantage of you."

"Does that bother you?" Nathaniel twisted to see Logan's face. "That I'm so much younger than you?"

"No, not really." Logan shrugged. "I don't think age is a good indicator of maturity or compatibility. Todd is closer to my age than yours but I think you're a better, more interesting person than he is. Does it bother you that I'm so much older than you?"

"No. Guys my age are boring," Nathaniel replied simply. "When will they get here?"

"They're arriving the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and they'll be staying through Sunday. Mom's going to send us a grocery list so we can do the shopping for her and she'll do the baking on Wednesday."

"So they'll be here five days? What about Thanksgiving dinner?" Nathaniel found something else to worry about. "I've never done anything that complicated before; have you?"

"Mom's going to cook it and probably every other meal while she's here, as well as filling the freezer with casseroles for later." Logan laughed affectionately. "I keep trying to tell her that going on vacation doesn't mean simply switching kitchens but she never listens. She enjoys taking care of people. And Dad is just as bad. He'll find enough odd jobs around the loft to keep himself busy while he's here."

"They sound nice," Nathaniel commented softly, mentally comparing them to his own parents. "What does your dad do? You haven't talked about them very much."

"I wasn't sure how much you would want to hear about them," Logan said tactfully. "My dad owns his own hardware store. My sister and brother-in-law are being groomed to take over when my dad retires but he still goes to work every day, and some of his customers refuse to be waited on by anyone else. He likes to work with his hands and stay busy and he does a lot of volunteer work in his spare time."

"What about your mom?"

"She's a homemaker. She helped out in the store when we were kids but she was always home whenever we were and she mothered all our friends as well. It wasn't exactly a Norman Rockwell upbringing; they've had their share of difficult times, but it was a good one."

"And they don't mind that you're gay?"

"I wouldn't go that far. I think it's always hard to accept that your son isn't going to marry, have children and carry on the family name. It was difficult for them at first but they came around. They're good people, Thaniel," he reiterated. "And they're going to love you."

"If you say so," Nathaniel still sounded doubtful.

"I say so," Logan assured him with a smile. "Feel better now? How's your hand?"

"It's fine," Nathaniel replied as he sat up. "I don't really need this bandage, you know."

"I know," Logan agreed. "But Band-Aids won't stick to your palm very well and you're going to reopen those cuts every time you use your hand unless they're covered. So humor me, ok?"

"Ok," Thaniel agreed. As he stood up and went into the kitchen he added under his breath, "Clu-uck, cluck, cluck, cluck."

"I heard that!' Logan called with a laugh. "And if you think I'm a mother hen, wait until you meet my mom. I learned from an expert."

~~~~~~~~

Wearing only a pair of well-washed jeans, blond hair still damp from his shower, Nathaniel rummaged fitfully through his wardrobe. Pulling out a black, long-sleeved Henley, he put it on and stared critically at his image in the full-length oval mirror.

"I don't think I should go to the airport," he said again as he made a face, stripped the shirt off and threw it on the bed.

"I think you should," Logan replied again, his voice patient but implacable.

"I think--" Nathaniel's voice was slightly muffled by the thick wool sweater he was pulling over his head. He frowned at his reflection, pushing the sleeves up, then yanking them back down over his wrists. "I think they'll want to be alone with you, without me hanging around."

"I think they'll want to be welcomed by you." Logan said as he tucked his burgundy button-down shirt into black jeans and got his shoes from the closet.

"They don't even know me!" And they aren't going to like me when they do, he added silently, knowing better than to say it out loud. Why the hell couldn't Logan understand that? He jerked the sweater over his head and flung it toward the growing pile on the bed.

Hinx, who had been napping in a patch of pale sunlight, crawled out from under the sweater with an irritable snort, jumped down and stalked away.

"Sorry, Hinx," Nathaniel called after the disgruntled cat, then turned back to the task at hand. He sank his teeth into his lower lip as he surveyed the shirts he hadn't tried yet. Why couldn't Logan just leave him alone? Why did he have to make it so *hard*?

Of course his parents didn't have a problem with Logan and they probably wouldn't have a problem with someone like Todd - rich, successful, somebody from their own world. But they were going to take one look at Nathaniel and see that he didn't fit in, that he didn't belong in their world. They were going to inspect him and judge him and he wouldn't measure up because he never measured up; he was never good enough, he never got it right and he never fit in, it was why he always had to be punished so much - because he was such a--

Strong arms wrapped around him from behind; strong hands held him close and Logan's breath was warm against his cheek. "Shh, it's all right, Thaniel. I'm here, I've got you. Settle down now. You're all right."

He leaned back against Logan's chest, fighting back the panic, focusing on the physical sensations instead; the soft flannel of Logan's shirt against his bare back, the feel of Logan's comforting hand spread across his abdomen, the soft litany of reassurance being whispered in his ear.

Finally, he turned to rest his head on Logan's shoulder, his arms encircling the other man. "Thanks, boss," he said shakily.

"No problem," Logan replied, running one hand gently up and down his back. "They aren't going to judge you, Thaniel. They're going to be as nervous as you are."

Nathaniel lifted his head. "They are? Why?" The thought was incomprehensible to him.

"Because you're part of my life. You're important to me and they want you to think well of them. I'll make a deal with you, Thaniel. Give them 24 hours. Then if you don't like them or you still think they don't like you, I'll tell them to go home."

"Really?" Nathaniel asked hopefully, then huffed in exasperation. "Logan, you can't invite them here and then tell them to leave! They're your parents!"

"And this is your home. You need to feel safe here." He pulled the younger man to him for a long, reassuring kiss and then released him with a pat to his butt. "It's going to be fine, Thaniel, and if it isn't I'll ask them to go home. Wear the black Henley and your new boots. I'm going to do a couple of things downstairs and then I'll be ready to go."

As Logan went down the stairs, Nathaniel put his shirt back on, tucked it into his jeans and buckled his black leather belt. He shook his head as he sat down on the bed to put on his socks and lace up his new Doc Martens. He really didn't understand Logan sometimes.

He lovingly stroked one of the new boots before he put it on, savoring the feel of the supple black leather. He put part of every check into a savings account and continued to shop at secondhand stores for a lot of his clothes but there were a few things he couldn't resist. He still felt a little guilty about spending so much on a pair of shoes but Logan had agreed they were a good deal. The thick tread would provide stable footing in the winter's ice and snow and they would last him for years.

"You ready to go, Thaniel?" Logan called a few minutes later.

"Yeah, just about," Nathaniel called back as he put the last of his clothes away and went downstairs. "As soon as I check the guest room."

"Nathaniel, you've checked the room three times already," Logan informed him. "You don't need to check it again."

"But--"

"Get your jacket."

"Yes, boss." Nathaniel got the black leather bomber he had purchased along with the boots and handed Logan the dark blue ski-jacket hanging next to it. He put the jacket on, hung the band of his earbuds around his neck, put his iPod in his pocket and checked for his wallet and keys. "Ready to go," he said with a sigh.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and whistled idly as they walked the few short blocks to the parking garage. The afternoon was clear but the temperature had dropped and he was grateful for his new jacket. His good mood lasted until they were about halfway to the garage.

That was when it occurred to him that he couldn't take Logan up on his offer, even if he hated the older Bradleys. Logan obviously loved his parents and expected them to accept Nathaniel without question. He couldn't disappoint or disillusion the other man. It was only five days, he told himself desperately. He could endure it for five days.

"Nathaniel!"

"What?" he asked, suddenly aware that Logan had spoken his name several times.

"Angel is waving at you."

"Oh." He smiled and waved at the young hooker across the street. "Do you mind if I talk to her for a minute and then catch up with you?"

"No, go ahead," Logan replied. "I'll pick you up in a few minutes."

"Hey, Dallas!" she called as he crossed the street.

"Hi, Angel. How's it going?" he replied as he stepped up onto the curb next to her.

She shrugged. "Could be better." In spite of the cold, she was wearing a brief scarlet dress that appeared to be glued on, fishnet stockings and red stiletto heels. Scarlet earrings dangled beneath her upswept hair and her only concession to the weather was a short black imitation leather jacket that hung open to show off her cleavage.

"Nice bomber," she said, reaching out to touch it admiringly. "Did Logan buy it for you?"

"Nope," he said proudly. "I bought it out of my last paycheck."

"Wow." She rubbed the leather between her fingers enviously and then hunched her shoulders and pulled her own jacket more tightly around herself, shivering as she shoved her hands into its inadequate pockets.

"You must be freezing," Nathaniel observed, feeling a rush of compassion for her, followed by a wave of gratitude toward Logan. He could have been reduced to standing on a street corner like this, pinched with cold and hunger, consumed by worry. Logan had not only saved him from that fate but allowed him to keep his pride while doing it. "Have you eaten today?"

She shook her head. "No, I've been a little short lately and I can't afford to miss any johns. I'll get something later."

"Here." He took a couple of bills from his wallet and pressed them into her hand. "That's enough to cover a couple tricks. Use the time to warm up and get something to eat."

Her eyes widened as she stared at the money. "Thanks, Dallas! Are you sure you can spare that much?"

"Yeah," he said with pride. "I'm earning really good money now."

"Thank you." She reached out to him, then hesitated as if no longer sure it would be acceptable.

"Any time, Angel," he told her, pulling her into the tight, enthusiastic hug she had started to offer.

"I think I have a customer," she said after a moment, looking over his shoulder at a car idling by the curb.

He glanced back. "No, that's my boss. I'll talk to you later. Go get warm, ok?"

"Ok." She waved as he got into the car and then turned to go into the little market on the corner.

He stared out the window as Logan pulled out into traffic, counting his blessings, wondering when he had turned into such a pathetic wuss, when he had started taking an easy life for granted. It didn't matter what Logan's parents said or did, he realized. He had been through a lot worse than a visit by the parents, both physically and emotionally, and he had survived just fine. Even if they didn't like him, they couldn't really do anything to him. All he had to do was nod and smile and ignore them. And it was only for five days.

"You're worrying again, aren't you?" Logan asked.

"Not anymore," he replied. "How long will it take us to get to the airport?"

The airport parking garage was overflowing, awash in holiday travelers. Logan spiraled through the garage several times before he finally saw a car backing out a few spaces ahead of him and stopped to wait for it.

"I think that SUV behind us is pissed," Nathaniel told him, turning to glance over his shoulder at the monster vehicle whose driver was impatiently honking his horn.

"Too bad," Logan retorted. "He's too big for a compact space and he can wait two minutes while I take it."

Inside the airport was just as crowded. Due to security precautions, people could no longer go out to the gates so they all thronged together in the baggage claims area of the terminal. All of the activity reminded Nathaniel of an enormous beehive that had just lost its queen.

"Ok?" Logan asked, pausing when Nathaniel fell behind while sidestepping a cranky five-year-old who had broken away from his mother.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Ouch," Nathaniel replied as an errant suitcase ricocheted off his knee.

"Sorry," the woman called after them.

"I'm going to get coffee and a newspaper," Logan said as he stopped in line at a Starbucks cart. "Why don't you see if you can find a couple of seats for us?"

"All right. Get me an espresso brownie, too, ok?" Nathaniel wandered aimlessly at first, convinced that it was hopeless. Rows of plastic chairs filled every available space but there still weren't enough to go around. There was no empty seat anywhere, much less two. People crowded the aisles and leaned against walls; as soon as a chair emptied, it was snatched up by someone nearby. Gradually he saw a pattern, though. First you watched for people glancing anxiously from their watches to the concourse and back again. Then you went and hovered nearby and as soon as they stood up you slid in behind them and sat down before anyone else could get there.

By the time Logan arrived with their coffee he had scored two chairs near the end of a fairly quiet row. On one side a skinny woman in bright yellow was knitting something in a dazzling shade of purple, her lips moving silently as she counted stitches. On the other side a fat man in faded overalls slept, a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes and his legs outstretched to discourage the children racing through the aisles.

The woman looked up at he sat next to her and draped his jacket over the remaining chair. "Hi. Knit 2, purl 4."

"Hi," Nathaniel replied. "Nice color."

"Thank you. It's for my ferret, Bruno. Yarn over, knit 3, purl 2. He gets cold so easily in the winter. Knit 2, purl 5."

He stood up as Logan approached, took his latte and brownie with a sigh of relief and sat down in the other chair. Pulling out his iPod and putting in his earbuds, he settled down to watch the people streaming by, leaving Logan to read his newspaper and deal with the knitter.

He was still nervous despite his earlier resolve. He considered everything Logan had told him, trying to figure out what approach he should take, what behavior would be most likely to please them. He shifted in his seat and smoothed the front of his shirt. Maybe he should have worn something else.

"You look fine."

"What?" He pulled his earbuds off and looked inquiringly at the older man.

"You look fine," Logan repeated with a smile. "Stop worrying."

Wondering how on earth Logan could read his thoughts, Thaniel gave him a nervous smile and sighed as he put his earbuds back in. That was easy to say, a lot harder to do.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't realize Logan’s parents had arrived until Logan stood up to greet them. His mouth went dry as he stood as well, hastily tugging the earbuds off and shoving his iPod in his pocket as Logan wrapped his arms around his mother.

"Mom, Dad," he said after the first hugs and kisses were over, "I'd like you to meet Nathaniel. Thaniel, this is my mother, Phyllis."

Nathaniel stared at her in surprise. The woman he had come to picture as a 6 foot, fire-breathing ogre was... Short.

Short and plump, with ash blonde hair that swept away from her face in a mass of feathery curls, revealing a splash of color at each ear lobe that matched a vivid pink shirt of soft scarf-like fabric. Her make-up was tastefully applied, not too heavy, just enough color to complement her blue eyes and delicate peaches and cream complexion.

She didn't look at all like Logan. She looked like... Mrs. Claus after a makeover, Nathaniel thought blankly, staring at her until Logan elbowed him in the ribs.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Bradley." He held out his hand but to his consternation she ignored it, enveloping him in the same warm, enthusiastic embrace she had just given Logan.

"Call me Phyllis, dear," she urged, standing on her toes to give him a firm kiss on one cheek and enveloping him in the scent of something soft and floral. She brushed the pad of her thumb over his cheek, firmly rubbing away the pink lipstick. "You're exactly the way I pictured you."

"And this is my father, Bob."

Nathaniel turned to the man with some trepidation. It was easy to see the relationship here; Bob looked like an older version of Logan, one with silvery hair and without the beard. Even his dress mimicked Logan's, the dark pants and casual flannel shirt a calm contrast to his wife's more colorful attire. To Nathaniel's relief, he seemed content with a warm hello and hearty handshake.

"Nice to meet you," Nathaniel told him.

"Nice to meet you, too," Bob replied. "We've heard a lot about you."

Nathaniel glanced over to Logan and the other man raised his hands defensively. "All good, I swear," he said with a laugh.

Phyllis slung the strap of a large purse over one shoulder, clasping it to her with her elbow while slipping her other arm through Logan's. "Of course it was all good," she said warmly. "Shall we get our luggage and get out of this crowd?"

The conversation on the way to the car was filled with family news and messages from the sisters and Nathaniel hung back a little, watching their comfortable interaction with fascination and a little envy. Their easy banter and casual pats on the back or gentle hugs about the waist were unlike anything he had ever seen in his own family.

At the car Nathaniel automatically deferred to Logan's father, getting into the backseat and leaving the shotgun position for the older man. As the others got in, he fingered his earbuds longingly. It would be rude to isolate himself in his music, though, so he reluctantly turned to Phyllis and searched for a suitable topic of conversation.

"Logan says you're taking some classes online," she said before he could speak.

He nodded. "For this year, I am. Next year I'd like to go to community college."

"Good for you. That's what Kimberly did," she said, patting his knee with a hand that was finely manicured, the nails painted in a pink similar to the color that adorned her lips. "Kelly and Logan both went away to college but Kimmy stayed home and went to our community college. She took some business and accounting classes and does the books for the store now. Logan and Kelly are so busy with their lives and careers; we hardly ever get to see them. I'm glad she's close, especially with the grandchildren. Do you enjoy working for Logan? Is it interesting work?"

Logan and work were easy subjects and Nathaniel relaxed a little as Phyllis drew him out with more questions. He could do this, he thought confidently.

Logan pulled the car into a parking space in front of their building and turned off the engine.

"Should you leave the car on the street?" Bob asked. "Don't you rent space in a parking garage?"

"I don't leave it on the street overnight," Logan replied easily. "But we won't be here that long and we'll need it when we go out for dinner. It will be ok until then. Just be sure to lock the doors when you get out."

"What time are we going to have dinner?" Phyllis asked before Bob could say anything else.

"In about an hour," Logan replied, checking his watch as he got out of the car. "That should give you time to freshen up a little if you want to."

They got the luggage from the trunk and he led the way up to the loft. "Here we are," he announced unnecessarily as he unlocked the door and stepped back for them to enter. "Just toss your coats over the couch while I put your suitcases in the guest room for you."

"I see you still have Hinx," Bob observed as the big gray cat sauntered into the room.

"Hello, baby!" Phyllis cried as she dropped her coat to bend over and pick him up. She held him against her chest, nuzzling his fur and cooing to him.

Nathaniel cringed, expecting a flash of claws, but Hinx surprised him with a deep rumbling purr.

"You're so big," Phyllis continued, laughing as he tried to wash her hand. "Yes, you are. I think even bigger than last time I saw you."

"Mom has a way with animals," Logan murmured into Nathaniel's ears as Phyllis put the cat down and brushed futilely at the stray hair on the front of her blouse.

"He's such a sweet cat but I think I need to go change."

"That isn't something he's usually accused of," Logan said wryly as she left the room.

"The place is looking good, son," Bob said, glancing around the room. "How's the faucet in the bathroom doing? Have you had any problems since I replaced it last trip?"

As they went to have a look at the faucet in question, Nathaniel looked wistfully toward the workroom. As nice as Logan's parents were - so far - they were still a little overwhelming and he longed for the solace and privacy of his workspace. He knew that Logan wouldn't let him opt out of the family dinner, though, and he couldn't be rude.

Hinx rubbed against his ankles and then started for the kitchen suggestively and Nathaniel laughed.

"I know. Feed the cat." He picked the cat up and rubbed his cheek against the warm, gray fur. Hinx immediately struggled to get down and went to sit by his dish demandingly.

"Sweet cat, my ass." Nathaniel laughed again as he got the cat food from the cupboard. "She just doesn't know you." Not quite sure what to do after he fed the cat, he went in and sat on the sofa to wait for the others.

Phyllis came out of the bedroom a few minutes later, dressed in a fresh pair of black Alfred Dunner pants and a matching black top with a loose, brightly flowered blouse over it.

"That's much better," she said, sitting on the other side of Thaniel and patting his leg. "I just needed to freshen up before dinner."

"Ready to go?" Logan asked as he and his father came in, apparently satisfied that the plumbing was working just as it should. "I'll drop you all off at the restaurant and then take the car to the garage. We can get a cab home from the restaurant."

Before Nathaniel had time to panic at the idea of being left alone with the parents, Bob spoke up. "Is it far from the garage to the restaurant?"

"No, only about three blocks," Logan replied.

"Then why don't we all walk? I'd like a chance to stretch my legs."

"That's a wonderful idea," Phyllis said. She took Nathaniel's hand as he stood up, allowing him to pull her up with him.

He tensed and then relaxed, resisting the urge to hide behind Logan as she released her grip to put on her coat. At least the route from the garage to the restaurant was through a good neighborhood, Nathaniel thought gratefully. As nice as they seemed, he didn't think Bob and Phyllis were quite ready to meet Angel or some of his other friends.

Mama Rosa was seated at her regular post when they entered the restaurant. "Ah, Logan and Nathaniel! They're clearing your favorite booth now. It will be ready for you in one minute."

"Thanks," Logan told her. "Mom, Dad, this is Mama Rosa, co-owner of the best Italian restaurant in town."

By the time they had exchanged greetings, their booth was ready and Phyllis and Bob were sliding into the seat across from Logan and Thaniel. Phyllis pulled a pair of glasses from her purse and opened the menu.

.

"So much to choose from," she said. She looked over the rims of the bifocals perched on the end of her nose at Logan and Nathaniel. "What's good?"

"Everything," Logan told her. "What are the specials today, Tony?" he asked as the dark-haired waiter set a basket of warm rolls on the table.

"Tortelli Tre Formaggi or Seafood Ravioli. Grandpa was in the mood to stuff things today," he explained cheerfully. "The Veal Marsala and Rotolini di Pollo are excellent, too. The chicken is a new variation of Uncle Vito's recipe; it's rolled with sausage, prosciutto and sage, in a mushroom-sherry wine sauce."

"I think I'll try the chicken," Phyllis decided, while Logan and Bob both chose the veal.

Nathaniel ordered the ravioli and sat back quietly as the others discussed antipasto and wine selections.

"How is your work going?" Bob asked as Tony left with their orders. "What does your schedule look like while we're here?"

"My schedule is open," Logan replied. "I'm not going to work while you're here, so we can do whatever you want to."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Bob frowned. "You don't want to get behind, especially when you have an employee depending on you now."

"Actually," Logan began, then paused as Tony returned with a carafe of wine and three glasses, "thanks to Thaniel, I'm well ahead of schedule. I can afford to take a few days off now and then again at Christmas without getting behind at all."

"Then maybe you should--"

"Why don't we have a toast?" Phyllis diverted the conversation. "To-- Logan, the waiter didn't bring a glass for Nathaniel."

"I have water, ma'am."

"That's all you're drinking? Logan, ask for a glass for him."

"I'm fine, ma'am," Nathaniel said uncomfortably. "I don't want any wine. Really."

"But--"

"Mom," Logan intervened as she persisted. "Nathaniel can't drink in public. He's underage."

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey. I forgot," Phyllis apologized. "What about a coke? Or iced tea?"

"I'm fine, ma'am," Nathaniel repeated yet again. "Thank you."

"Phyllis, leave the boy alone," Bob ordered. "He's old enough to order a coke if he wants one."

Tony appeared with the antipasto platter and in the flurry of making room on the table and getting it placed, Logan leaned over and whispered in Nathaniel's ear, "Cluck, cluck, cluck."

As they ate, Nathaniel was entertained by stories of Logan's childhood.

"Logan said to me, 'I've spit on all her clothes and now I'm just sitting here waiting for more spit so I can spit on her shoes, too'," Phyllis said, wiping tears from her eyes as she told the story. "He told me outright. Didn't even try to hide it."

"You can't believe everything she says," Logan told Thaniel.

"Logan and Kelly fought all the time," Bob said. "One is as stubborn as the other."

"It's not my fault she wouldn't share," Logan protested. "Besides, I was only six. I didn't know any better."

"You knew better," Bob disagreed with a laugh. "Just like you knew better when you and Jordan climbed on the roof and dropped water balloons on Kelly and her friends when they walked by."

"Ok, that's enough of my nefarious childhood," Logan ordered good-naturedly as he finished his dessert. "I think we need to talk about something else now."

"I think we need to go home," Phyllis contradicted. "We're almost the last customers here and it has been a long day."

"Coffee, anyone?" Logan asked a short while later.

"That sounds good," Bob said as he sank onto the sofa.

"Make it decaf, dear," his wife told him as she sat down and leaned comfortably against him.

"A little caffeine won't kill me," Bob countered.

"Decaf, Logan," Phyllis repeated. "Otherwise, he'll toss and turn all night."

"I won't toss and turn," Bob told her grumpily, "but you'd better make it decaf, Logan. Otherwise, she'll be waking me up to tell me I'm not asleep all night."

Nathaniel followed the conversation as if he were at a tennis match, turning his head back and forth as each one spoke. He tried to imagine this conversation happening in his family and failed dismally. Mama would never contradict his father or tell him he couldn't have something he wanted, especially in front of other people. If she did, he sure wouldn't laugh and go along with it. He'd assert his authority right then and she would pay for her temerity after everyone had left.

"Coffee, Thaniel?" Logan interrupted his thoughts.

"I'll make it," he offered. "You sit down and talk to your parents."

As soon as they finished their drinks, Thaniel stood up and carried the cups into the kitchen. "I need to go do homework," he explained apologetically when he returned to the living room.

"It's time for us to hit the sack," Bob said. "It's been a long day."

"It has," Phyllis agreed. "And I need to be up early in the morning to start the baking."

Hugs and kisses were exchanged between parents and son as Thaniel watched wistfully. Mama had stopped hugging and kissing him long before he had outgrown the need for it, after his father had insisted that it would make a sissy out of him.

It would be nice to be hugged and kissed goodnight, though.

No, it wouldn't. He rapidly changed his mind as Phyllis turned to him, smothering him in the same hugs and kisses she had just given Logan.

"Goodnight, Nathaniel," she said with a final pat on his cheek.

"I'm going to bed, too," Logan said after they had closed the door of the guest room behind them. "Don't stay up too late, ok? Mom and Dad are early risers, too; we'll try to keep the noise down but I don't know how late you'll be able to sleep."

"I won't be long," Nathaniel promised, "I just need some time to--" he rocked his hand, unsure how to put his feelings into words.

"Decompress." Logan nodded understandingly.

Nathaniel managed to read through a half-dozen pages before his eyelids grew too heavy to stay open.

"I'm not getting anywhere, Hinx," he finally admitted to the cat sleeping on his lap. "Let's go to bed."

Logan was lying in bed reading when he dumped the heavy cat on the end of the bed. "You didn't work long."

Nathaniel's shrug was somewhat hampered by the shirt he was pulling off. "I was tired all of a sudden."

"You did very well tonight," Logan praised, laying the book to one side as Nathaniel removed his jeans, pulled on sleep pants and slid under the covers. "I know it was hard for you, especially when Mom put you on the spot. I'm proud of the way you handled it."

Nathaniel smiled shyly as Logan's arm went around him, pulling him close. "They're nice. A lot easier to talk to than I thought they'd be. It's just--"

"What?" Logan asked when he didn't continue.

"Does your mother *have* to touch people so much?" he asked, half-laughing, half-whining.

Logan laughed as well. "She's a very tactile person but I'll talk to her about it," he promised. He ran his hand over Nathaniel's hip, slipping the younger man's sleep pants down to caress the curve of his butt. "Speaking of touching..."

Thaniel pushed the roving hand away. "We can't, Logan; your parents are here."

"So? They're downstairs, not in bed with us."

"But they'll hear!"

"Thaniel, they're asleep downstairs with the door closed. They aren't going to hear us."

"What if they wake up? What if they have to go to the bathroom or something?"

"What if they do? They still aren't going to come up here."

"No."

"Thaniel, they have three kids. I'm pretty sure they know what sex is." Logan tried a different tactic. "And since we're sleeping in the same bed, I'm pretty sure they've figured out that we do it, too."

"No. We can't, Logan," Nathaniel repeated stubbornly. "I can't do it while they're here. I'll keep thinking about them."

Logan sighed and turned off the light, knowing there was no point in arguing anymore.

It was going to be a long five days.

tbc