The bedroom door slowly eased open and Jay peeked out from a two-inch crack. "Is she gone?" He couldn't believe what had just happened; how stupid could he be? After waking alone he'd become concerned that his lover was having some morning-after regrets and patiently waited, hoping to at least talk it out.

Only when he couldn't stand it anymore did he leave the bedroom, hoping to ensure last night was a beginning and not the end. As he walked out into the living room, stark naked, he never considered that anyone else might be there. Angie's look of glee had done nothing to offset the horror on the face of her sibling. He closed his eyes and sighed. This was not the way it was supposed to be; he'd just outed Michael to his sister in a manner that couldn't be explained away. He'd be lucky if the guy still spoke to him.

Hastily donning his jeans, he waited for the other shoe to fall, for Michael to renounce him and ask him to leave. But as the door eased further open, warm hands caressed his bare sides then enfolded him in a tender embrace. Warm, soft lips traced a path up his neck before descending onto his for a chaste kiss. "Good morning, Jay. Did you sleep well?" was breathed against his skin.

Finding his voice, Jay asked in shaky tones, "Sssooo, you're not mad?"

Soft chuckles brushed against his skin, along with the faint rasp of day-old beard. "No, I'm not mad. I wouldn't have chosen for her to find out that way, but I have to admit that it's a relief, no longer having to worry about how to tell her."

"How'd she take it?"

When Michael gazed into his eyes, those twinkling baby blues were alight with humor. "Let's just say that I don't think Mom's gonna try to fix you up anymore." Snagging Jay's hand, Michael led the way into the kitchen area. "Come on, let's eat."

* * *

Both men had been to that particular house for many a Sunday dinner and normally considered it a treat, but today they were dreading what might happen. Jay was verbally agonizing about being tossed out while facing accusations of corrupting the elderly couple's only grandson. Michael was afraid of being kicked out of the family after hearing a sermon similar to the one the reverend had delivered on that not-so-long-ago Sunday. But this time, he feared the words would have more impact, delivered by someone whom he loved and respected, who'd be renouncing him from the family.

Although he loathed the things, Michael took one of the 'emergency pills' his doctor had prescribed for him. With his nerves in an uproar, he'd never make it to the car without help. As it was, Jay brought the car to the front of the store, making up the excuse that he was ready to go and Michael wasn't and pulling it around would be a time saver. Right.

Once tucked safely in the vehicle, Jay's hand found his, their entwined fingers shifting the gears. Michael knew that if he and Jay were going to see each other that he'd need to tell his grandparents. He didn't like keeping secrets from his loved ones and, while Grandma might tend to conveniently ignore things she didn't want to acknowledge, Grandpa made a point of knowing what was going on around him and would see through any attempts to hide something of this nature. But if nothing were going to develop between him and Jay, well then, there was no point in opening that particular can of worms.

He was wrapped up in an attempt to carefully construct what he wanted to say when Jay voiced the very questions Michael needed answered.

"Do you think you'd like to give it a shot with me? I know you're not out, but from what I've seen you don't seem entirely opposed the idea. Do you think you'd like to maybe go out?" He hastened to add, "…when you're better, that is. If you're not comfortable here where you know everybody we could always go out of town." With a quick glance to his quiet passenger he explained, "I don't like hiding who or what I am, but I've been out for a very long time. I want to get to know you, let you know me. You don't have to answer right now; I just want you to think about it."

Michael couldn't fight a relieved smile. Carefully phrasing his response, he replied, "I can't promise you anything, and I know I'm nobody's bargain right now, but I think I'd like that." Actually, he liked it a lot. Jay had complimented his cooking over breakfast and had jokingly asked, "Can I keep you?" Michael didn't want it to stay just a joke.

While Jay appeared cool and confident, the deep breath he exhaled let Michael know just how nervous he'd been. "That's good enough for me." He brought their joined hands up to his mouth and planted a kiss on the back of Michael's hand, sealing the deal. "Will your mom and sister tell your grandparents?"

Michael had every confidence that the women wouldn't disclose information that was his to share; however, they could be smugly annoying until he did make the information public; at least to the family, anyway. To their way of thinking if you weren't a blood relative it was none of your business. Furthermore, they would never say anything if they felt it might harm him. It was with a fair amount of certainty that he answered, "No."

"Will you tell them?"

Michael couldn't help but notice the hopeful look in his lover's eyes. "Do you want them to know?"

Jay paused thoughtfully before answering, "Not if it's going to upset them or put a strain on your relationship. But I gotta tell ya, I personally don't care who knows. I'm tickled to death, though I'll understand if you want to keep it quiet. It is okay if I tell my folks, right?"

That was something Michael had never even considered. "How do you think they'll take it?"

Jay grinned at him, all confidence returned. "They came to terms with my being gay a long time ago and they'll be happy for me. Although, I might have to keep my eye on you around my Aunt Angelica; she likes big blond men."

"Well, it just so happens that I like dark skin, eyes, hair, and a smooth Texas drawl." Michael lifted his chin and looked at Jay a bit sideways.

"I think I know someone who fits that description."

"Not your Aunt Angelica, I hope."

Wrinkling his nose, Jay replied, "Nah, Aunt Angelica is a gringa from my mom's side of the family. Pale skin, red hair, smokes, drinks, and cusses like a sailor." He winked at Michael, who jumped away in mock horror, forming a cross with his fingers and brandishing them as if warding off bloodsucking fiends.

"Then by all means, please keep an eye on me around your aunt!" he exclaimed.

Jay's laughter was deep and throaty, like a quick, discreet grope in a public place--exciting and erotic. "Don't worry, Querido, I will. How do you think your grandparents are going to react?" Worry replaced the sunny smile.

Michael sighed and rubbed his free hand through his hair. "I have no idea." It was then that he noticed that Jay had once again called him something he didn't understand. "I've been meaning to ask you; why do you call me 'Querido'?"

They pulled into the yard of the white frame farmhouse and Jay turned toward his lover. "Well, I didn't know how you'd react to 'baby', 'darling', or 'studmuffin', so I use an endearment that I've heard since I was a child."

"So it's Spanish?"

Jay nodded. "Yes, it's what my mother calls my father; she got it from my grandmother. If you don't like it…"

"No, it's not that; I'd just never heard it before, is all, and wondered what it meant."

"It means 'beloved,'" Jay said, releasing Michael's hand to exit the vehicle, leaving a shocked Michael to contemplate those words. Beloved?

Realizing Jay was waiting, Michael got out and joined him, mulling that word over in his mind like a mantra. Beloved, beloved, beloved. Together they crossed the yard and climbed the steps, pausing to gaze at each other for a long moment before Michael opened the door. Here goes nothing…

They followed the smell of roast beef down the long hallway that led from the front porch to the back, stopping briefly in the bathroom to wash their hands and exchange a quick kiss behind closed doors.

"Ready?" Michael asked.

"As I'll ever be," replied Jay.

The last door on the right opened into a bright, sunlit kitchen, in stark contrast to the darkness of the unwindowed hallway. As the two men entered the warm, welcoming room, they were greeted by a fond smile.

They leaned in and each kissed a soft, wrinkled cheek, saying, "Hi, Grandma!"

"Hello, boys," the elderly woman greeted. "How are you this fine sunny Sunday?"

"Fine, Grandma," they answered.

She narrowed her eyes and looked them up and down. "You boys wash your hands?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The old lady smiled and turned back to the stove. "I hope you're hungry, I made pot roast with all the trimmings. Here, make yourselves useful," she said, handing Jay a pot of steaming green beans and Michael an oblong glass dish filled with potatoes. She shooed then in the direction of the dining room, picking up the remaining casserole dish and following in their wake.

Michael's mother, grandfather, and sister were already seated at the table, chatting quietly.

"Hey, you're just in time," Gramps remarked, beckoning them to sit.

Michael and Jay dropped down, side by side, into the chairs they had occupied the last time they'd both been at that table, and Grandma Eileen took her place at the end. The family joined hands and Gramps blessed the food.

Michael could feel eyes on him even before he heard, "Amen." He looked up see a grinning Angie.

Apparently, his sister couldn't wait to share her news, as Michael's mom was smirking over her cup of coffee, looking like the cat that got the cream. Oh well, he'd expected it. He knew they wouldn't make any announcements before he had a chance to talk to Grandpa, and was grateful.

Dinner was a lively affair, everyone taking the opportunity to catch up on what all the others had been doing. Jay sat beside Michael once again, but this time he seemed to enjoy the meal more, eating heartily, smiling, and talking animatedly. He also discreetly brushed his hand against Michael's thigh under the guise wiping his fingers on the napkin draped across his lap.

Michael carefully schooled his features to keep those moments private but, truth be told, after last night and then the conversation they'd had on the way over, he had to practice restraint to keep from acknowledging how happy he was and why. Watching from the corner of his eye he waited patiently, and when Jay's hand made its next 'accidental' pass over his thigh he briefly caught the man's little finger with his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. He knew Jay understood the need for discretion, but with their newly voiced intentions they were both anxious to find some time alone to explore the possibilities.

After dinner the men normally retired to the living room to watch television while the women cleaned the kitchen. Jay stayed behind to help, allowing Michael some time alone with his grandfather to talk. He had reservations about telling Gramps of his intentions toward Jay, but needed to so that the man learned accurate information from the right source.

The NASCAR race was just beginning and several times Michael tried to begin a conversation, only to be interrupted by, "Did you see that?", "Hey, watch where you're going!", or "You call yourself a driver?" Michael sighed and decided to wait for a commercial.

When the first advertisement began he tugged the remote from his Grandpa's hand, muting the TV. "Gramps? Can we talk?"

The old man looked confusedly between the now-silent television and his grandson, as though he couldn't figure out why the noise had stopped or when Michael had appeared beside him on the couch. A look of understanding settled over his features and he suddenly seemed to realize where he was and what was happening. "Sure, son," he replied. "I'm all ears." He reached into his ear and adjusted the volume on his hearing aid. "Shoot."

"Well, Grandpa; it's like this," Michael began. Somehow all of his well-rehearsed words flew out the window, reminding him of just how terrible he was at self expression. He suddenly wished his had sent Angie instead. That girl had no problem at all getting her point across. 'Oh, well,' Michael thought to himself, 'I'm the one here, it's my secret to tell, and I need to be a man about it.'

To his patiently waiting grandfather he said, "You know about Jay, right?"

Momentary confusion crossed his grandfather's wrinkled face before it relaxed into comprehension. "Sure I do; ain't like it's no secret around here. I mean, it's so obvious. Anyone looking at him could tell."

Michael took it as a positive but puzzling sign that Gramps was so accepting of Jay and his orientation. Maybe this was going to be easier that he thought. Hopefully he asked, "And you're okay with it?"

Gramps made a shooing motion with his hands. "What's there to be okay with? That's the way he is and there's nothing can be done about it. It ain't like the boy can change now, is it?"

"Wow, Gramps, you are amazing, you know that?"

He wasn't sure if the wrinkled, age-spotted skin was still capable of a blush, but he could have sworn the man reddened at the compliment. Things were going so great! Better even than when he'd talked to his mother. Finally, in true Michael Ritter fashion, he opened his mouth and blurted the first thing that came to mind, "So, it doesn't bother you that I'm like him?"

Gramps stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "But you ain't Mexican!"