I think I expected to wake up the day after hearing it-- the I love you-and feel differently or act differently, or for JC to be different. Not in a bad way, just like we had crossed some kind of bridge or road or taken some fork along a well traveled highway, but we'd done it together. My eyes popped open and I blinked at the ceiling and listened to him sleep, then turned my head just as he awoke, and it felt the same as always. Watching him smile a little and stretch and yawn and then scoot closer, grunting happy sounds like he did just about every morning was comforting to me, a warm glow in my heart. I needed a lot of things to stay the same, because a lot of things were about to change, and in a very dramatic way.

I was surprised he was even awake-- it was still early. My nervousness kept me from sleeping well, even after an eventful evening. Long after JC heaved a sigh and rolled over and laid until his breathing slowed and he was slumbering heavily, I was awake, my heart pounding out of my chest, just not from exertion. I was scared to pieces of my maternal grandparents. Of my father. And his family, of what they must think of me, and in my mind, they resented me. A lot. Charles had three girls, the oldest of which was a young woman, now. 19. If I put myself in her shoes, wouldn't I feel like my life had just been toppled, a deck of cards strewn everywhere, and everyone stepping all over the pieces, like I didn't even matter anymore? What if I was now the middle child, instead of the oldest? Thoughts ran through my head, one right after the other until nearly sunrise, until I wanted to scream.

"You look scared," he whispered into the quiet.

"I am," I whispered back. A muted swish of crisp sheets sounded under the thin blanket as he moved his arm to lay across my belly and dropped his head to my shoulder.

"What are you scared of? Talk to me."

I hesitated, knowing what his reaction would be. "It's not ridiculous, okay? I'm scared that they won't like me. Or, maybe that they'll blame me for not helping Regina more. I mean, look at how long she hung around and didn't get clean and it took one trip to Denver, to see her folks and she went to rehab and stayed in rehab. Maybe they don't think I was very good for her."

Despite my mood, I chuckled a little at his teeth nipping the skin on my shoulder. "I don't think it's ridiculous," he mumbled against my skin, then lifted his head and balanced his chin on my shoulder. "I think that's normal. I also don't think you have anything to worry about."

"You don't? How?" I sat up halfway, leaning on one elbow, the other hand tugging through knots in my hair. I regretted not properly detangling the night before. "How do you say it's normal to feel that way, and then in the next breath say I have nothing to worry about? Be real with me, JC. You know where I'm coming from. Help me."

"Baby, sweetheart," he soothed, rubbing my arm, my belly, any skin he could reach, suppressing a smile. He was laughing at me! "Please, honey, just relax--"

"Don't. Don't call me honey and tell me to just relax! Don't placate me-"

"Serena." He grabbed my chin and turned my head so I could see him and he could see me and look into my eyes. "Stop. Breathe. You will be fine. I meant that the... situation or whatever... will be what it will be. Worry, don't worry, it doesn't matter. It's still going to end up the same. You can't predict the outcome of today by worrying, so stop." He released my chin and gave me a solitary nod. "We should eat something. Hungry?"

"Easier said, than done." I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. "Give me a second, I'll grab the room service menu."

"Well, let's go down to the little café downstairs. Have some coffee, read the paper?"

I shifted on the bed, turning to look back at him. "Are you sure you want to do that? You wouldn't be happier up here in the room, in privacy?"

"Nah. Who knows I'm here?"

"I don't want to hear it," he said an hour later, tossing his keycard onto the desk, grabbing the remote and punching the power button before falling back onto the rumpled sheets and comforter.

"You don't want to hear what?" Smug, I reached into the closet for conservative outfit that I'd chosen for that day-black slacks, button-down white cotton blouse that flared a little as it hit the waist, a bright pink ribbed tank to wear underneath. I hoped it said successful, self assured, confident, but casual and not worried about making a good impression. Breezy. I sure wasn't feeling any of those things.

"You know what I mean." He flipped through channels, rapidly. "I guess we should have ordered in, huh?"

If my mind wasn't so preoccupied, I would have laughed, but since we were just looking for a quick meal and some time to kick back, the throng of people that surrounded him as soon as we entered the café, followed by the endless parade of one person after another stopping at our table wore thin pretty early on. He didn't get to read his paper, we hardly had any conversation, and he was now irritable and wanting to hide. Great fucking idea, Chasez. Who knows you're here? 183 people, now.

"You're saying I told you so, in your head. Stop it."

"Or what?"

"Or... uhm..." He giggled, rocking his foot back and forth, mindlessly staring at the TV screen. "Don't start. You don't have time for me to teach you a lesson." A glance at the tiny clock radio on the bed stand sent me into a panic.

"Shit," I whispered under my breath, and ducked into the bathroom.

###

Neat little suburban homes flanked by well manicured lawns sat close to each other, all in a row along the tree lined street. I counted the numbers as JC drove slowly down the block.

"Uhm, honey," he said as he drove even slower, practically coming to a stop in the middle of the street. "Could it be that big house up there that looks like the freaking Parthenon?"

I glanced up the street and my jaw dropped to my chest. A large, white, stately pillared home sat at the top of the small hill ahead. The hedges were trimmed, shaped perfectly. The steps were red brick, leading up to the front door, through six columns that climbed from the foundation to the roof of the house. A familiar figure stood in the middle of the porch, hands in pockets, watching us approach. When she was sure it was us, she pulled a hand out of her pocket and waved it vigorously in the air.

"That's Regina. I guess this is it." JC pulled up to the curb and put the gearshift in park. Regina bounded down the steps toward us and I steeled myself, out of habit. "Okay, so before she freaks out, I'm just gonna get out of the car."

"Hang on. I have something to tell you." He tugged at my arm, holding me in the car. "Take it easy, okay? Take everything they say and do at face value, don't read into anything. Expect it to be weird for a little bit. Remember that they're just as nervous to meet you, as you are to meet them. And have a good time. And I love you."

Those three words still made me giddy and almost want to cry, especially when he said them unexpectedly, out of the blue. I was already a mess of emotion and feeling and my brain was fully engaged with being terrified. I couldn't deal with much more on top of that, but instead of adding more stress, I felt my tight chest loosen up a little and my mind wasn't racing as fast as before.

"Thank you. That helped." A hand found mine, warm fingers intertwining with my cold, shaky ones, and brought them both to his chest. I could feel his heartbeat through the sweatshirt he wore.

"I can't take credit for it" He tipped his head to the side and offered a cheeky grin. "When you were in the shower, I called my mom and asked her what I should say to you. She gave me the right words, I guess. I hope they help."

"Well, thank her for me. I'll take it to heart." I leaned into him, closing the space between us and let him kiss me before giving his hand one last squeeze, then pulling back. "So, if I don't call you by 3:00, come back, okay?"

"Got it, honey. 3:00 unless you call me first. Have fun."

He stared while I sat there, my finger on the door latch, willing myself to open the door and get out of the car. "I have record stores to visit," he said, pushing at me a little with the tips of his fingers. "Get out of the car."

I swatted his hand away and laughed a little. "I'm going! Love you."

"Love you, too."

Regina was patiently waiting on the sidewalk, a polite distance away from the car. I got out and stepped back, waving as he pulled away from the curb. When I couldn't see the plates anymore, I turned around and faced Regina for the first time since she'd hurried into the hotel after our meeting months before.

She looked good. Great, even. Even better than the last time I'd seen her. Her hair was cut and styled, she had put on a little weight, and was wearing a form fitting shirt and slacks instead of the oversized flannel shirt and baggy, worn jeans she wore the last time I saw her. Her eyes were clear and bright, her teeth pearly, her skin luminous. She looked young. She was young.

"Hey Regina." I stepped to her, awkward. Did we hug, or shake hands or do nothing? She opened her arms wide and wrapped them both around me.

Her voice, muffled at first since her head was buried in my shoulder, then clearer as she pulled back, was rich and clear and familiar. "It's so good to see you. I'm glad you're here!" She pulled back, running her hands up and down my sleeves, that ‘proud mom' smile on her face. "You look really good. You're glowing, if that makes sense. Was that your boyfriend? The guy in the car?" She nodded toward the now empty street.

I knew I was beaming, I just couldn't stop it. My face was hot. I felt a few beads of sweat pop up and swiped at them with the back of my hand. "Yeah, that was him." I nodded, looking back at the street, where the car had disappeared.

"You must be in love. It shows." She nervously shifted her weight from one foot to another, her eyes darting around the neighborhood. "So. Uhm. They're ready for you, whenever you are, but just take your time, you know. They figure you're pretty nervous."

"I'm scared out of my mind."

"Well, do you want to just sit out here, for a minute? We can sit on the steps and talk. Catch up."

I walked beside her, up the sidewalk, to the top step and then sat next to her on the cold, red brick porch step, crossing my arms and resting them on my knees. I struggled with what to say, for awhile. Regina wasn't the kind of person I could have ever had a conversation with. After a few tense moments, I just tossed something out there.

"You look really great, Regina. I mean that. I'm so proud of you."

She seemed embarrassed and sheepish, maybe a little shy, twisting the buttons on her shirt, staring down at the red brick under our feet. She shrugged, and then looked up at me. "Thanks. I don't have much choice, but to stay clean," she said, glancing back at the house. "They kind of never take their eyes off of me. Until I can get on my own, I'm here. I feel 14 again, you know? But uhm, truthfully it's nice. Been getting fat off of baklava and pita bread-"

I had only had an English muffin and a cup of tea at the café, watching JC smile and sign autographs and have mindless conversation with person after person. "Are we having Greek food for lunch?"

She nodded, her turn to beam. "It smells amazing." She closed her eyes and breathed in, as if she could smell the food in the air. "Anyway," she continued, "I'm at almost 200 days sober. Pretty proud of that. And studying for my GED. When I pass, Daddy might give me a job and I might go to school."

Two things struck me, just then-first, how easy it was to talk to her now, after listening to senseless ramble for most of my life; second, how humbled and child-like she had become. She could have been my sister, the way she talked and acted. At 47, she was hoping her father might give her a job at one of the Hotels he managed. It was like she'd just picked up where she left off.

"Going to school would be great. But do you think you can handle it?"

"I can handle it," she said, stern and determined. "I want to try, anyway. I need to do something good for myself. I was thinking that you're pretty smart, and that maybe you got your brains from me." We both laughed, and I thanked her for the compliment. "Thinking of Drug Counseling," she added, blushing a little, wrapping her arms around her knees and rocking backward. "Ironic, huh?"

"Not so much," I said with a shrug. "If anyone knows where people are coming from, it's you."

"It's been a ride. And it's not over, you know." She rocked forward again, her slipper-clad feet landing back on the step, squinting into the air, her forehead wrinkling up.

"Once an addict, always an addict, they tell you in rehab. It's never over. I have to work at it, everyday, to stay clean. To not drink. I crave it, sometimes, but I'm so embarrassed by the mess I was when I got here. And the same things that made me want to escape..."

I heard her swallow and watched her blink back tears. I ran a hand down her spine, inwardly cringing at the ribs I could feel through her shirt as I tried to comfort her-awkward, but I was trying. She swiped at tears and sniffled.

"Anyway, I've wasted a lot of time. Like my whole life. It's time to get on some kind of track, before I kill myself. I came home at just the right time. And so did you." She glanced back at the house again, then to me, and offered a small smile. "Are you ready to meet your grandparents?"

"I'm ready to eat. If meeting them is what I need to do to get to the food, lead the way." We laughed together, just about the same laugh, linked arms and walked into the house.

An overwhelmingly delicious smell enveloped us, almost knocking us over as soon as we stepped inside. The spacious interior of the home boasted a large amount of stone, ceramic floors, and bright colors from the paintings and framed photos on the walls to the comfortable furniture in hues of blue and orange and yellow. The sun streamed in, illuminating the rooms through large windows on every wall, shaded by sheer draperies that I could just imagine billowing in the summer wind.

Some rooms away, I heard two voices lightly bickering, faint accents going back and forth. Regina grabbed a hand and held it tightly as she led me through the foyer and living room, around to the kitchen and dining room. We stood for a moment, watching them, their backs to us, fussing over an overflowing olive tray. He would reach for one of the plump olives piled high on the tray-- she would smack his hand away, fussing and muttering but smiling. Regina giggled, which caught their attention. They turned, and stood next to each other, leaning against the counter. She ran a hand down her skirt, subconsciously smoothing it down.

"Mama, Daddy." Regina pulled me forward, a little. I had to remind my feet to move, otherwise I would have fallen flat on my face. "This is my daughter, Serena," she said, turning to me, smiling, her face a ray of sunshine, she was so proud. "Serena, these are my parents, your grandparents, Ana and George Karides."

They had to be in their 70's, but looked young and lithe, smooth skin, bright eyes full of sparkle, a glow to olive toned skin. George stepped forward first, pushing Ana close to Regina and I, and then stepped back, bringing his hands together at this chest with a clap. A smile crawled across his face, his stern features softening as it grew.

"Don't move. I take a picture." He shuffled away, and I stood there like a bump on a log, between Regina and Ana, holding onto Regina's hand for dear life. George came back, holding a camera, not one of those point and shoot things but a professional camera.

"Daddy took all of the photos you see framed around here. They're all places in Greece. I'm sure he'll give you the tour, later." We stood still for the photos, the flash blinding as he took several pictures, in several poses. "Good, good," he said, after one set. "Looks nice," he said after another. "Three of a kind."

Ana settled an arm on my shoulder and smiled the most gentle, warming smile I'd ever seen. "It's good to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you. Are you hungry?" I opened my mouth to answer but my stomach rumbled, loudly, answering for me. I laughed, and she laughed with me, glancing over at Regina.

"You were right, Regina. She is beautiful. She favors you."

"She reminds me of you, Ana," said George, sidling up to her, dropping a kiss at her temple and smiling down at me.

"We eat five courses," he explained, holding up five fingers and counting them down. "First, some ouzo and meze-that is drink and a light snack, some olives, some cheese, some bread. Next, Ana serves a great spanakopita. It's like ambrosia--delicious. Then we have salad, and some soup with orzo pasta, then I made roast beef with lemon potatoes. Sound good?"

His brows and mustache were bushy with grey streaks throughout but his smile was warm and wide and youthful. I grinned back and nodded, and let Regina pull me toward the dining room. "I couldn't describe very well what you do, you know-- for work. So I'll let you do it, if you don't mind, Serena."

Those few hours with them seemed to coast right by after that. I gave the usual spiel about the work I did, and the Qwest project, which explained why I had come from LA. I sidestepped most personal questions and answered what I could about my life, about growing up with my family-they seemed to want assurance that I was taken care of as well as they would have taken care of me, given the chance. I picked up on streams of tension between Regina and her father, most especially where my adoption was concerned. There was no imagining that they were still upset that they'd never had the chance to know their granddaughter, nor were they given an opportunity to care and provide for her. For a few reasons, though, I saw why Regina made the choice she made and was secretly very thankful for it.

I could also see how Regina had gained some weight. I think I ate my own weight in kalamata olives and Greek Salad with feta cheese crumbled on top, and then several slices of spanakopita, which tasted better to me than I'd ever had at any restaurant. Fresh vegetables, cooked to perfection, not overpowered with spice or sauce, aromatic, tender cuts of beef and lamb. I ate until I was well past full, then nibbled at the cinnamon and honey donuts that had been set out and slowly sipped at a glass of wine.

Ana and George taught me history-their history, where our family was from- Volos, near the capital city of Athens. George's family worked in imports and exports; Ana's family owned a busy café in the heart of Volos. They had known each other since they were children, grew up together, and fell in love. When George's father was offered an opportunity to move to the US and manage a section of the booming international trade industry, George hurriedly proposed, married Ana, and carted her off with him. They set out on their own soon after. George managed a small hotel, working his way up to Corporate, was transferred to Denver, and now oversaw several large hotels owned by the Hotel group.

I hardly noticed it was well past 3:00 when the doorbell rang. Before I could stop her, Regina shot up to answer the door and in seconds, JC was being dragged through the living room to the dining room. She stared up at him, babbling something about me looking happy. JC chuckled nervously, allowing himself to be pulled further into the room. I sat, wide eyed and helpless, as he settled into the chair next to me. I sent him an apologetic look but he seemed amused, taking the situation in stride, winking at me and reaching for my hand under the table.

"So, I guess I should introduce you all," I said, stuttering. Why was I nervous about introducing him to people I barely knew?

"Uhm, so these are my grandparents, George and Ana." I pointed to them, at the end of the table, all smiles and twinkling eyes and knowing glances. "And you were dragged in here by uhm... by my mom. Regina. This is JC, everyone. My uhm... my boyfriend." He squeezed my hand, clasped tightly within his and resting on my thigh. I covered the tangle of fingers with my other hand and just tried to breathe. Their good opinion wasn't necessary, but for some reason I was worried they wouldn't like him.

"Nice to meet everyone," JC said, nodding around. "I just came to pick up Serena, she said 3:00-"

"Are you hungry?" Ana interrupted, pressing her palms against the table and standing up. "There is a lot of lunch leftover." George lifted a finger and stood, leading Ana into the kitchen. "We make you some food."

"Oh, I don't want to impose..." His voice trailed off as he was obviously ignored.

"So. JC, huh?" Regina sat across from him, stars in her eyes. "What does JC stand for?"

JC looked at me, as if the concept of people not knowing his name was foreign. I looked at him, and shrugged. She didn't know who he was, and I hadn't told her.

"Uh. Well, when I was younger, people started calling me JC because I wasn't the only Josh. It stuck, so I've been JC for... a long time." He left it at that, since it seemed to satisfy her question.

"And how long have you two been together?"

"I met JC in October." I shot her a look, one that I hoped said shut up. JC squeezed my hand again and I glanced up at him. Stop, he mouthed. I glared back at him but relented, ready to jump in if Regina and her questions got out of control.

George and Ana filed out of the kitchen with all five courses and a glass of wine, setting the array proudly in front of JC. I watched his eyes grow wide as they bounced from plate to bowl to glass and back to the plate. A small sampling of each dish we'd had and two cinnamon honey donuts sat before him. They stood next to him, looking on, expectant.

"This is where you get your appetite from," he said to me. Then nodding at them, said, "thank you. It smells great." Satisfied, they filed back to their chairs to sit and watch him eat. I tried to keep the conversation going but JC seemed to be the main event. Maybe because he was my love interest but also because he ate faster than anyone I knew, inhaling the soup and spanakopita, stabbing miscellaneously at the salad and bread. He was eating everything all out of turn, but I think they were too amused by watching him eat to educate him.

In short order, most of the food was gone and they sat blinking at the end of the table, smiling and accepting JC's compliments on the food, and then the framed photographs on nearly every wall in sight. George perked then, and stood, waving at us. "Come, I give you the tour of Greece."

He took us through each room, showing off his flair for the art of photography in black and white and vivid color, taking us on a pictorial tour of some of his favorite places in Greece. Some photos were of the Greek Islands, specifically Santorini-"Nice for honeymoon," George said to JC with a wink and a nudge. JC grinned and nodded and waited for him to move on. I squeezed his hand and bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Other photos were of mainland Greece-many, many photos of Athens, Volos, Attika and Ancient Olympia. Some were very old, over 50 years old. Some were new, from recent trips back to Greece.

Ana stood behind us, a hand on my back and murmuring an appreciative word or two at each photo. "You should visit," she urged softly, with a pat on my back. "If you get the chance. Greece is a beautiful country, rich in culture and history-your history. The food is excellent, the modern nightlife is exciting, but really, I feel very spiritual there. Close to God. Close to Mother Earth. I think you would like it."

I was lost in the photos, so larger than life and real, a snapshot of a place half a world away, that sort of tugged at my heart a little, calling me to it. "It looks just beautiful. These pictures are amazing." George seemed proud, clasping his hands behind him, rocking forward and back on his feet.

JC slid an arm around my waist, leaning in close to whisper in my ear. "We have to be downtown in an hour. We'd better go."

I had forgotten all about my meeting with Charles, and the butterflies in my stomach fluttered anew. I made the rounds, hugging Ana and George, giving an especially tight, lingering hug to Regina. In a hushed whisper, I told her to call me if she needed anything. She nodded against my shoulder and when she pulled back her eyes had an unmistakable shine to them. Her bottom lip trembled as I picked up my purse and let JC lead me out the door before I joined her in tears.

It was dark as we marched down the red brick steps together, hand in hand, along the sidewalk, to the car. He unlocked my side and I stepped in, popping the latch on his side and checking the back seat, which was covered in bags.

"JC, what did you buy, and how do you think you're getting those home?"

"Records, baby. Vinyl. The good stuff. And I think I have to ship them from the hotel tomorrow."

The car purred to life as soon as he turned the key and he pulled away from the curb, out onto the street, headed for the highway. I slouched into my seat, as much as I could under the seatbelt, and stared ahead, watching the Denver suburbs race by.

"So, you don't want to talk about it?" His voice was gentle, on the quiet side as he shot a glance over to me.

I was in the middle of a tug-of-war inside. I wanted to reflect on the day, but I still had more to be nervous about. I wasn't sure which emotion I should be feeling- I was trying not to feel any of them.

"You're quiet," he said, looking over at me again. "Talk. Let it out."

"Well. I mean..." I stopped, searching for words that evaded me. My emotions were still such a jumble. I didn't much like to emote on cue. "It was a little weird, at first. Like you said it would be. But then the food came out and, I was at home. I just..."

"You just..."

"I'm just... starting to see why Regina left. I mean, they are nice people. Just old world. Some of the things George said-he's very ‘my way or the highway'. And the way he talked to Regina and how she reacts to him. She like, shrinks in his presence. He seems domineering. If I put myself in her shoes, as a 13 year old, I'm rebelling, you know?"

"So, you're starting to see things from her perspective."

"I just finally get it, why she did what she did for me. She could have just as easily ran home and let her parents rescue her, but she didn't. I would have missed out on so much and been so sheltered and so smothered-what they did to her they would have done to me. She didn't want that, for me. I totally get it, now."

I tapped him on the arm and grinned. "She wants to go to school for Drug Counseling. Isn't that awesome?"

"It's more awesome that you sound proud of her." He laughed a little and his voice took on a light, teasing tone. "Like really proud, not that ‘I'm so happy you're not high today' proud."

"Shut up, JC." I rolled my eyes and turned my head toward the view out of the window so he wouldn't see me laughing.

"It's the truth. Anyway. I'm happy it went well. I told you it would."

"Oh, you did not. You said it would go how it went, whether I worried or not, so stop worrying."

"Well, I also said you didn't have anything to worry about. That's the same as saying it'll go well."

"JC. It isn't'," I said, shaking my head and stifling laughter. "But I'll let it slide, because you love me and you told me so."

"Oh, lucky me."

Charles and I agreed to meet at 6pm in the bar of a trendy downtown Denver restaurant. His directions were easy to follow, and a few minutes before 6 JC and I snuck into the side entrance. He found an empty booth in a dark corner while I walked around the bar. It was one long continuous circle, surrounded by high backed bar stools with seats upholstered in brightly colored fabric. The room seemed awash in a haze of reds and oranges, lit by oddly shaped geometric lamps hanging from the ceiling over each table and every few feet around the bar.

I saw him as I made my way around, seated in front of a tall, bulbous glass of golden ale with a light head of foam. The sight of his dark hair combed back from his face, his hunched shoulders, the way his fingers toyed with the edges of his cocktail napkin made my heart slam against my chest so hard I could barely breathe. I reached out and made contact with the back of a bar stool and tried to steady myself, breathing in and breathing out.

"You okay miss?" I heard the voice from far away, inside a fog, under a pillow. I slowly turned my head toward the voice and found the bartender leaning over the thick wood bar, staring. I weaved a little, then regained my footing and my head cleared. I offered the friendliest smile I could muster and made my way around the rest of the bar, clinging to chairs as I went, until I was a few feet away from him.

"Charles..." I managed to eek out. His head popped up and he swiveled in his seat. His forehead, previously creased with worry lines, cleared as a nervous smile appeared. I was gripping the back of the chair so hard that my knuckles were white, I was light headed and not entirely sure I could take another step, so I just stood there.

"Hey. Hey you." He climbed down off of the stool and pulled out the chair next to him, offering a hand to me. "You alright? You look pale."

"Ye-yeah," I stuttered, wiping at the sweat popping up along my hairline under my bangs and above my collar. "I'm just..uhm. Kind of lightheaded."

He motioned to the bartender. "Barkeep, a bottle of water and a glass of ice, over here?"

The water had not been in the glass a full minute before I sucked it down completely and asked for another. It felt good on my throat, which was threatening to close up, and cooled me down, since I was burning up, and helped stall for time, so I could get my wits about me again. I glanced around the bar, looking for JC. I saw a thumb sticking up in a far off corner and felt better, knowing he was there.

I inhaled deeply and blew the breath out, then lifted my eyes to him. Concern clouded a thin, handsome face, his blue eyes and deep laugh lines around his mouth softening the severity of angular jaw. He was tall-he towered over me when he stood up-with broad shoulders and giant hands.

"So, uh. I understand you met the grandparents today." I nodded a few times, stealing a glance up at his face. He seemed mildly amused, turning his glass of beer on the wood surface, watching it make wet rings that overlapped themselves. "Yeah, they're uhm. I remember them being pretty strict, with Regina. She just couldn't take it and split."

"Yeah. They're kind of still the same."

I played with the now empty water bottle, peeling the label off of it, trying to remember all of the questions I wanted to ask and all of the things I wanted to say, but I was drawing a blank.

"Well, so..." He paused, cleared his throat, and continued. "So, how long are you in town? You came with your uh... your boyfriend, right?"

Again, I nodded. "Yeah, he came with me. For moral support." I smiled up at him, briefly, and then went back to peeling paper. "We fly out Monday."

"Nice of him to come with you. It's kind of a big moment for you but not much for him."

"Well, a big moment for me is a big moment for him, so..." I shrugged, and tossed the bottle into the garbage can under the register. "Uhm, so. Your wife and your... your daughters. They know you're here, I imagine?"

He nodded, slowly, his lips pressed together. "They do know I'm here. They'll want the whole story, when I get home."

"Will they?" I asked, head tilted, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"What do you mean?"

"Well I mean if my dad told me he had a child out there somewhere that he just found out about, I think I'd be kind of pissed." He shifted uncomfortably under the weight of my stare. A few tense seconds ticked by, and then I softened. "You know, I guess I'm expecting the worst, here. I'm expecting your family to already hate me, so if they do, you don't have to sugarcoat it for me."

"No, no. It's not like that," he said, reassuring. "It's been awhile since I found out about you, and they know we've talked. I've shared all I can, and emotions have run the gamut but I basically said, you know, I didn't know." He flailed his arms in frustration. "If I knew, they would have known, but I had a daughter out there and I wanted to meet her and know her. It hasn't been a walk in the park, but they've come around."

"I just don't want them to hate me over things I couldn't control," I mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear.

"They don't. I think the jury's out on me, though. You know, the absentee parent, the sperm donor, the birth father. Or whatever."

"How can anyone blame you? You just said you didn't know--"

"Oh, I know, I know. But, I'm just saying, there's lots of stuff out there that's basically focused on the birth mom and the kids-how to get back child support, how to find a deadbeat dad, things like that. There's not a lot of resources out there for honest to goodness real good dads out there who just never knew they had another kid. It's like a... what's that word... a... bad reputation sorta thing?"

"Stigma?"

"Yeah. That. That's always gonna hang over me."

"Not to me." I laid a gentle hand on his arm and he covered it with his. "And I'm sure not to your family, and definitely not to Regina. She knows she was wrong."

"I appreciate knowing that. That you feel that way." He started to say something and hesitated, then started again, his blue eyes deep and earnest. "I uh... you know, I definitely want a relationship with you, Serena. I mean you can define it, if you want. I know you have a dad but I can't imagine not being in your life. Now that I've met you."

"Oh, well yeah. Of course. I mean, I'm not ready to dive in and call you daddy or anything but I'd like to see where it goes. Not stand in the way of anything good happening." We both nodded, and then, in an attempt to avoid becoming overwhelmed with emotion, looked away at the same time.

"So tell me-"

"Do you want anything to-" He stopped, and gestured for me to go ahead.

"I was going to ask you to tell me about your girls and your wife and your job and... everything about you. I want to know everything. "

We talked, for a good long while, about anything he was willing to share. From meeting his wife in college-he went back to school after Regina left, got his diploma, and went to University of Denver-to the births of his daughters, to the new Auto Supply stores he was planning to open. Business and Marketing were my bread and butter, so I was touched and a little impressed that he asked my opinion on a few things. I gave them honestly and fully, but really without any background in the industry I didn't think I was much help. At least it gave him a place to start.

I opened up a little about life with Regina all those years. He paid rapt attention to story after story of how we managed to keep her alive but couldn't keep her in one place for very long. I didn't know what kind of stronghold Denver had on her, but it seemed to be working, for the time being, and I was crossing my fingers that she would make it this time. Honestly, I didn't think I could take another relapse. I had so much hope riding on this time around.

"You've got to be tired," he said, after I had finished my long series of stories.

I sank forward, onto my crossed arms. "You don't even know the half of it. But you know, if she stays sober a year, maybe two, I think she'll be out of the woods and then I can relax. Until then, I feel like I always have to be ready for a four alarm fire with her."

"Well yeah and... I mean, it's stopped you from being able to live a full life, having to worry about her. I hope you take the chance now, to live for you. Do what you want to do, when you want to do it, without worrying if she'll be okay. You deserve to be happy, too. She's not your job anymore."

I turned, just then, to find JC just around the bend of the bar, about 10 seats away, his head angled up and watching an episode of Sports Center. I pointed at him, and smiled at Charles. "That's my boyfriend, over there. He's amazing. You should meet him."

He dipped his head to see past me and laughed. "Yeah right. You and about a billion other girls."

Shocked, my jaw dropped and I laughed. "You know who he is?"

"What, are you kidding?" He waived an arm and winced. "I have three teenage girls. They hog the TV every Thursday watching that dance show he's on. And I think I know every word to that song by his friend the other one. You the one with the...you know, the sexy back...." He burst into song, snapping his fingers and bumping his shoulders to some random beat that didn't match the song he was singing-badly.

"Justin," I said, giggling. "And I'm serious, that's my boyfriend. I met him, last year."

He rolled his eyes and picked up his nearly empty glass of beer. "Right. Yeah, okay."

"JC," I called out softly, across the bar. His head turned and he perked up, his eyebrows raised. I waved him over with a nod and he picked up his bottle and sauntered over, his eyes on the giant screen above the bar.

"Shit," said Charles, under his breath. "You do know that guy."

"I do know that guy," I said, sliding an arm around JC, and smiling up at him. "This is Charles, my dad. Charles, this is JC. He's made it his personal mission to make sure I'm happy." They exchanged strong handshakes and polite pleasantries. "So, I think we're going to head out. It's been a long day and you have a family to get back to."

"Yeah, I better get going. Let me get your drinks for you, at least. And uh, I hope you'll keep in touch. Come out to Denver every once in awhile."

"I go out to Vail twice a year, so it wouldn't be that hard to swing through. I'll call you when I'm out this summer."

"That'd be great. Maybe you could meet the girls. They'd like that. I'd like that." He signed the credit card slip and slid it back across the counter to the bartender, and then climbed down from the stool. "It was a pleasure, finally meeting you, Serena. I'm glad we did this." With that, he gave a single nod and backed away, then turned and headed toward the exit.

"Charles!" I hopped down from the chair, broke past JC, marched right up to him and stood on my tiptoes, arms extended. He bent to my level and closed both arms around me, holding me tight in a long bear hug. He smelled of cologne and aftershave and hair products and hugging him felt oddly comfortable, like my body had always been craving that feeling. Once it was satisfied, I was at such peace inside myself. I sighed deeply, hugging him as tightly as I could.

He pulled away, grabbed both of my hands and squeezed them in his, then leaned forward and dropped a kiss on my forehead. "You are the first best thing I ever did with my life." His voice caught in his throat and he choked a little, his face turning a deep pink. "You take care of yourself and keep in touch. I hope to see you this summer. Don't let me down, alright?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, and squeezed his hands before he let go and walked out of the front door of the restaurant. I stood at the door and watched him walk to his truck, unlock the cab, climb in and shut the door. After a minute, the truck rumbled loudly, exhaust pluming out into the night air, and he drove away.

I could smell JC before I heard him, before I felt arms around my waist and a chin on my shoulder, his head leaning against mine.

"That was my dad," I whispered, tears streaking a wet path down each cheek, dripping off of my chin, onto my shirt. "I can't believe I just met my dad. That was the most awesome thing, ever."

"It was so awesome, honey. I'm proud of you," he whispered, so close to my ear that his breath tickled, his arms tight around me, swaying slightly while I sniffled and watched the retreating tail lights. He pushed the door open, the cool air shocking me back into reality, pushing me toward the warm car.

I sat in my seat and pulled the seatbelt across me, snapping the belt into place. "I don't want to talk, okay? I just want to think."

JC didn't say a word. Instead he started the car and pulled out into light traffic, then reached across the seat for my hand, offering quiet comfort in the best possible way.

The sleepless night and the long day caught up with me in the elevator, on the way to our room. JC was practically carrying me down the long hallway, leaning me up against the wall while he dug out his keycard and slid it through the card reader, then ushered me inside, where I fell face forward onto the bed.

He shrugged off his jacket, eyeing me from the closet. "I don't know why you're tired. It hasn't been a very exciting day."

"Hmm-mmm," I mumbled. "Not exciting at all."

I felt the bed dip as he sat next to me and a warm, heavy hand on my back, rubbing in a soothing, circular pattern. "So, I know you said you don't want to talk, but you're okay, right? Not like messed up and need to get stuff out?"

"I'm okay. I just wanted some time with it, to myself."

"Good. Can I get you anything? A drink? If you're hungry, I will laugh out loud."

I laughed into the mattress. "I'm not thirsty. And I'm never eating again. I'm so full. It was good though, huh?"

"Mmhmm." His hand moved slower and moved to the small of my back, crawling under the hem of my shirt and caressing skin. He bent toward me and laid soft kisses from my cheek to my ear and down my neck. After a while, he laid next to me, an arm slung across my back. He watched me and I watched him and we listened to the lights hum and the traffic on the street from 30 feet below.

"Regina didn't want me to leave."

"Hmmm-mm," he said, shaking his head slowly. "I don't blame her. You're pretty awesome."

That made me smile. "You're a suck up."

"You can't ever just take a compliment. I have to be sucking up; I can't just say you're awesome?"

"You usually want something when you start complimenting me."

"That's not true. At least I don't mean it to be, so just in case it is, here I am, saying you're awesome and I don't want anything." He leaned forward and pecked at the corner of my mouth.

"Except that kiss," I said with a laugh.

His eyes rolled to the ceiling and he tossed up an arm in mock frustration. "Argh, there's no winning with you. Good thing I love ya."

"Good thing," I agreed, rising up onto my elbows. "So, I've been thinking about stuff."

"Okay. Stuff like what?"

"Stuff like..." I paused, laying a hand out, palm up. He laid a hand on top of mine and intertwined his fingers with mine. "Like when I used to say that she sold me and that she embarrassed me and didn't want me and I had stopped loving her..."

"Mmmhmm..."

"And then you used to say, you know, ‘you should still love her', and ‘think positively and just support her', and Dr Brown used to say ‘she hangs around for a reason, find out what that reason is."

He nodded. "I give good advice. Yeah?"

I cut my eyes at him and squeezed his hand, wrapped around mine. "Yeah. So. I guess I haven't figured it all out yet but... she was my mom, all along, wasn't she?"

He nodded again, slower, angling his head so he could see my eyes. "Yeah. Always watching over you, always sticking close by. Maybe she just needed to know that you were being taken care of."

"Your mom did the same thing, huh?"

"Yeah. And really..." He stopped to think, rubbing at the shadow that had grown on his chin, his eyes taking on a dark, faraway look. "Really, I think our moms must have loved us, like an extraordinary amount, to give us up. To want better for us than they could give. And what should have been a relief was like the other side of a nightmare, maybe. It wasn't like she could keep you, but it must have killed her to give you up and to finally sign the papers."

"Yeah. Brave lady. I'm happy she did, though."

"Me too. I'd have never met you, if she didn't. I wouldn't be where I am, if my mom hadn't have given me up. That's why I never have regrets, you know? Some awesome things have happened to me, and some not-so-awesome things have happened, but if I could have undone any of them, who knows what I might have missed out on? I can't even imagine not knowing you, right now."

I rolled to my back, scooting close to him as he propped himself up on one arm. "I feel like I've known you forever," I said, smiling up at him.

"You haven't though, you know. You're just getting started."

"Yay," I said, an instant before soft lips brushed against mine, the kiss slowly turning from light and airy to deeply passionate, almost needy. I released the grip I had on his hand and buried my fingers in his hair. He'd been letting it grow a little longer and it was starting to curl up, much to my delight.

"So, are we done talking about your parents, because it'll kill the mood if you start talking about your dad while I bend down and start nibbling on this ear, right here."

I giggled and squirmed but I couldn't escape the ticklish feeling of his teeth on my earlobe. "If I wasn't done before I am, now. Come here." I pulled at him, pulling him on top of me, sighing with satisfaction as soon as I felt his weight on me and the unmistakable bulge pressed against my belly. "Are you... ever... not ready?"

"Nope," he mumbled against my neck, his breath hot on my skin there. "Anytime, anyplace, at your service."

"How about right here, right now?"

Before I could get the statement out of my mouth, he sat up on his knees and pulled his sweatshirt and t-shirt up over his head, unbuttoned his jeans and leaned over me as he kicked them. Wearing only his briefs, he resumed his previous spot, breathing hard with the exertion of undressing in mere seconds.

"You drive a hard bargain, Miss Willis," he said, heaving, pulling at the buttons on my blouse.

"Mr. Chasez, you're doing a lot of talking. The only hard thing I want to hear about driving is-" He cut me off with a kiss while nimble fingers undid each button on my blouse and pulled it open, then rolled the tank top up and over my bra.

"Fuck," he whispered, rocking his head back, a look of bliss upon his face. "I forgot you wore lace today."

"I'm gonna let you in on a little secret, JC. Whenever I'm with you, I'm wearing lace. Because you like it." I pushed his head between the full cups. "Don't stop."

"I-you're just--fuck," he mumbled, growling and licking and moving from mound to mound, lightly biting at one nipple poking through the delicate fabric, and then the other. "Take it off. I can't handle it, take it off."

He sat up so I could pull both shirts off and unbutton my pants. In the blink of an eye they were gone, in a pile on the floor next to the bed. My panties followed, and then his briefs. I breathed a contented sigh as he settled on top of me again, his lips taking possession of mine again, his hands roaming freely and unobstructed again. My legs tangled with his, my hands full of soft, silky hair and my body arched up toward him.

His head tilted to the side and found his favorite spot, where my shoulder met my neck. It was sweet torture, feeling wet lips and hot breath and his heart racing, as his chest pressed against mine.

"Don't make me beg," I breathed. "I need you. Please?"

"Okay, okay." He lifted himself up on his hands and knees and crawled over me, to the mini fridge. "Just hold on a minute, I'll be right back."

From the fridge, he pulled two bottles of water and set them on the nightstand next to the small clock radio. Then, he disappeared into the bathroom, where I heard him rummaging through his toiletry kit. On his way back, he snapped the overhead light off, and the small lamp next to bed on. He dropped a few of the familiar silver foil packets next to the bottles of water, but kept one, ripping it open and pulling out the thin film and rolling it onto himself.

"Don't suppose you want to do this for me, do you?"

I rolled to my side, propping myself on an arm. "I like to watch you do it. Do you need me to?"

"I'm kind of in a hurry," he said with a chuckle, checking, adjusting, and then stretching out next to me. "Keep me in mind for later, though."

His skin sort of glowed, in the soft, low light. Every time he moved, a different muscle rippled in his arm or his shoulder or his abdomen, and I wanted to run my hands over each and every one of them. I had a deep appreciation for his build and never missed an opportunity to tell him so. He played with the waves in my hair, pushing it back off of my forehead, where it would fall again, and he would push it back again.

"Did you have a good day, sweetie?"

I smiled and nodded and closed my eyes as his hand traveled around to the back of my neck, gently pulling me forward until my lips met his. "Thank you for coming. I couldn't have done this without you."

"Mmmm," he hummed. "I was happy to. Thank you for sharing it with me."

My smile grew wider as I sat up and straddled his midsection, feeling him under me, pulsing and throbbing. "You wanna share something else with me?"

Large, strong, warm hands made their way up my thighs and around my waist. "Waiting on you, mama. You said not to make you beg and I'm not. It's all you." I rose up on my knees and moments later sank down onto him, blowing out a long, low sigh of relief.

Every care in the world that I ever had was gone, in that moment. Every need I ever had that needed satisfying was taken care of. Every urge I ever thought of acting out was being played out in every touch, every breath, every thrust of hip and lick of tongue and cry of pleasure and urgent whisper of ‘I love you'. Any perfect moment that I could have ever imagined paled in comparison to the feeling of being loved by him, making love to him, falling over the edge of something intense and powerful, bringing him with me seconds later.

For the first time in...well, probably ever, I felt whole, and I liked that feeling. In the foggy moments right before I descended into sleep, wrapped up in him, surrounded by him, loved by him, A most wonderful last thought raced through my mind.

This is what happy feels like.