"It's such a beautiful day today."

Logan agreed with his girlfriend's statement with a nod. "It really is."

They had a good night's sleep, a nice breakfast and were now chilling in the garden on the porch swing, snuggled up close to each other. It seemed like nothing could disturb this peaceful get-together – except for Logan's cell phone. Camille lifted her head a little from his chest. "Who's that?"

"Probably Kendall," Logan said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"If it's really Kendall, call him back later."

Logan glanced at the display and frowned slightly. "Sorry, it's my mom. And one of her conditions for this weekend was that I should always be available and answer when she calls."

"Wow, she really trusts me, doesn't she?"

Logan looked at her sympathetically and stroked her cheek with the palm of his hand. "Don't take it personally. It is her problem, not yours."

Camille nodded silently. Logan answered the call, "Hey Mom . . . Yes, I'm fine . . . Oh, nothing special, we're in the garden right now . . . Yes, exactly . . . How was Dad's speech? . . . Uh uh . . . Really? That's great. Please tell him I'm proud of him . . . Oh, you recorded the speech? Okay, cool, can't wait to see it . . . Yes Mom, I took my medication."

Camille heard a slightly annoyed undertone in Logan's voice. She reached out and stroked the back of his neck reassuringly. Logan commented her gesture with a gentle smile, then turned back to his conversation, "News? What news? . . . You're staying longer?"

"All right, honey. Have a nice day. Love you. Bye." Joanna put her phone down the same moment Jeffrey returned to the hotel room. "Have you talked to Logan?"

Joanna nodded, smiling contentedly. "I told him we're going to stay longer."

Jeffrey frowned. "Um, why?"

"Easy. If he knows when we'll be back, nothing out of the ordinary will happen. But if he thinks we're going to stay longer, but instead coming back exactly on schedule, then we can see if everything is actually okay. I'm kind of unsure, I don't trust the whole thing. And that's why I want certainty."

Jeffrey looked like he had to fight hard against what he would have loved to say out loud. Instead, he said calmly, "Or . . . we finally start believing in our son and stay a little longer for real. It would be good for Logan and good for us."

"You're kidding me, aren't you?"

"No, I'm serious."

Joanna bit her lower lip. "I don't want to be the bad one all the time. But someone has to be in control of everything."

"And no one can do it better than you," Jeffrey replied, walking over to his wife and placing both hands on her shoulders. "And that's exactly why you need a break from it."

She looked at him for a long time without saying anything.

"Well?"

She took a deep breath. "Okay. One day."

"Three days."

She shook her head. "Two days," she said firmly. "And we're driving back Tuesday night."

Jeffrey nodded. "All right, two days, I agree. But we're not going back until Wednesday."

"Wednesday morning."

"Okay."

"Early."

"All right."

Joanna narrowed her eyes. "I feel like I've lost."

Jeffrey smiled. "Don't see it as losing, but as a chance to regain your strength. With a little distance, everything looks completely different."

"And what . . . what should we do now?"

"Everything we want. For example, when was the last time you went to the movies?"

"Haven't we seen this one movie with Logan when he-"

"I meant without Logan."

She shook her head. "I can't remember."

Jeffrey nodded. "Well, I can. And this was a long time ago. So, why don't we just do it?"

"Really?"

"Yes. We'll pick a nice movie, have a good time together, maybe we'll go for a walk afterwards to talk about it."

"We used to do that so often."

"Exactly."

"I just don't want to be a bad mother . . ."

"You're not a bad mother. You're the best mother ever, and the strongest and bravest woman I've ever met."

But Joanna shook her head and turned away from her husband. "I'm not strong. I've already lost one of our children."

"But-"

"And I'm not brave either. Because since that day, I've been constantly afraid of losing Logan as well. I couldn't stand that."

"I'm scared too. Every time he has to go back to that hospital. Every time he has a relapse. But we can't let this fear control us. Fear is the reason why we see our son drifting further and further away from us. If we don't learn to trust, to believe, we will destroy this family. But we still have time to give in and make up for mistakes. We can't be good parents if we're on the verge of a breakdown. And that's why we need this time, time for us, to become the parents Logan deserves and needs. With Camille in the picture, he may now have other priorities and he is no longer so dependent on us, but of course he still needs us. But we have to let him go his way. It won't be easy, but I think this could be our first step towards doing the right thing. For him and for us."

Joanna stared at him for a long time.

"What are you thinking about?"

"About the fact that you really have a gift for convincing other people."

"Does that mean yes?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes."

Logan put his phone away and looked at Camille. "Okay, my dad just confirmed it. They're staying until Wednesday."

"So, that means instead of one day, we have two more days to ourselves?"

Logan smiled, took Camille's hand and kissed the back of her hand. "Exactly."

"Well, in this case . . . how would you feel going out for lunch? Down at the beach is a really great place to eat."

Logan nodded. "Yes, great. I'm in. I guess we have to do such things from time to time. You're probably starting to get bored, because we're always doing things at home."

Camille's eyes widened a little. "No, of course not. I just thought it might be a nice idea."

Logan gave the back of her hand another kiss. "It is."

"Okay, great." Camille slipped off the swing and apparently wanted to go back into the house. Before Logan could follow her, she turned around and said, "Oh, and while we're there, we can meet my parents, yes?"

"What?!"

Camille opened the car door, but Logan remained seated. "Okay, help me, why are we doing this all of a sudden?"

Camille sighed. "I told you that my parents hold me back yesterday. I had to tell them that your parents wouldn't be home, and they have only allowed me to spend the weekend alone with you when they finally get to know you. I couldn't say no."

Logan frowned. "But . . . the weekends at your place . . ."

Camille grabbed his hand. "Come on, I'm sure they're already waiting."

"So, Logan, tell me, what do your parents do for a living?" Cassie Roberts asked, beaming at Logan. Logan felt more than uncomfortable, but for Camille's sake, he pulled himself together. "Well, my dad is a doctor and-"

"Oh, that's practical."

Logan paused. "Practical?"

Mrs. Roberts nodded. "Yes, I mean, of course no one wants their child to be born with a disease, but in this case, it might not be that tragic, because the doctor in charge is always within reach, right?"

Logan exchanged a quick glance with Camille. She looked like she was ashamed of her mother's comment. Logan felt sorry for her, and wished he could make things easier for her. He put on a smile and nodded to Camille's mother. "Yes, it is a great help, that's for sure. My dad also teaches students at various universities from time to time."

"That's really interesting," Mrs. Roberts said, leaning forward. "And what about your mother?"

"She's a real estate agent."

"Oh, really?" She turned to her daughter, smiling broadly. "Well Camille, I have to say, I'm a little disappointed that you didn't introduce us to this lovely young man much earlier. He is a real keeper. He's sweet, kind, polite, smart, rich-"

"Oh no," Logan interjected quickly, raising his hands. "Just because my parents have successful jobs doesn't mean we're rich. In fact, when it comes to money, we're a pretty normal family."

Mrs. Roberts beamed. "You see, Camille, he's also modest. I couldn't imagine a better boy for you. " She turned to her husband. " Now say something too, honey."

Marc Roberts looked at Logan thoughtfully. "Do you have a favorite sport, son?"

Logan noticed how not only Camille, but also her mother rolled their eyes. He cleared his throat. "Oh, um, that's a tough one, sir. As you can imagine, my parents never allowed me to play a sport, I guess I just don't have the necessary fitness for it. So, I don't do sports myself, but my best friend Kendall plays ice hockey, and he often shows me recordings of his games, and I think it's really interesting. So, I guess I'm gonna say ice hockey."

Mr. Roberts nodded slowly, seemed to be wondering if he liked Logan's answer or not. Finally, he said, "My heart belongs to football, always has, always will. I played during my college days. But now I only play with my sons in our garden."

"Yes, we have a really great garden," Mrs. Roberts interrupted her husband. Apparently, she was done with the sport-talking. "It's a lot of work to take care of, but it's also really rewarding."

Logan took his glass of orange juice to take a sip. He nodded. "Yes, I've seen it, it is really - ouch!" He flinched so violently that he dropped his glass, and the juice spread across the table. Camille quickly put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay, honey?"

Before Logan could answer, she turned to her parents, who both looked confused. "It's okay, sometimes he gets cramps, then it can happen that he drops things. Dad, could you bring him another juice, please?"

Looking a little suspicious, her father got up and went to the counter.

"I'll get some more napkins," Mrs. Roberts said, following her husband. As soon as they were out of earshot, Camille turned to Logan, who looked at her angrily, rubbing his aching shin. "Why did you do that?"

Camille leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "I'm sorry honey, I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted you to stop talking."

"But why?"

When she didn't answer right away, Logan understood the situation. "You didn't tell them? They don't know?"

With a quick glance, Camille made sure her parents were still distracted, then she said, "If my parents, especially my dad, find out that a boy they've never seen before has already spent several nights alone with me in our house, then . . . trust me, it was easier that way."

"Come on, it can't be that bad."

Camille raised her eyebrows. "Let me put it this way. You think your mom is complicated? Well, that's nothing compared to my parents."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

She looked down. "I . . . I don't know. I'm sorry."

Logan let go of his leg. Once again, he felt sorry for Camille. Her parents really seemed to be a little special. He shook his head, then he grinned. "Cramps, huh?"

Camille rolled her eyes. "Yes, I had to think quickly . . . They're coming back."

"Are you sure you're okay, honey?" Mrs. Roberts asked as she and her husband sat back down at the table. Logan nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Roberts. I'm fine. I'm sorry if I caused you any inconvenience. Unfortunately, there can't be only good days."

"Awww, what a poor and brave boy you are," Camille's mother said, and began to wipe the juice off the table. "I'm sure your parents are very proud of you for getting through everything so confidently."

"They are," Camille said, taking Logan's hand in hers. "So am I."

Logan smiled and intertwined his fingers with hers. Mrs. Roberts beamed, but her husband looked at the whole scene with a very neutral face.

"I'm so sorry for this afternoon," Camile said as she and Logan got out of her car. Logan waved off. "Oh, it's all right. It wasn't that bad."

"Liar," she replied with a smirk, stepping a little closer and putting her arms around his neck. "You know . . . after everything that happened today, I'd imagine your muscles could use another cheer up, don't you think?"

Logan frowned at her. "Um, no, not really. I feel good."

"Are you sure?" she asked, her fingers starting to rub the back of his neck. "Because I wouldn't mind."

Logan enjoyed that gentle stroking on his neck, but her words continued to puzzle him. "Um, yes, pretty much. I mean, it is a nice offer, but not necessary at the moment. I-" His cell phone got alive. "This is Kendall. Should I-?"

"No, it's all right." She let go and moved away from him. "Take your time to make your call. I'm going to take a shower."

Logan thought he heard disappointment in her voice but wasn't quite sure. She turned away and went into the house. For a moment, Logan felt the urge to follow her, but his cell phone distracted him, so he answered the call. "Hey Kendall . . ."

"Hey man. So, tell me, how was it?"

"Weird," Logan replies, still thinking about the events of the afternoon.

"Oh . . . that's not exactly the answer I was hoping for."

"What kind of answer do you expect when she's attacking me with it and hasn't told me anything about it. Her parents probably weren't too keen on it either. Okay, maybe her mom, but definitely not her dad."

"Um, okay . . . just one question . . . What?!"

"Camille introduced me to her parents . . . What were you talking about?"

"I was talking about last night."

Logan frowned. "Last night? Why? . . . Oh, right. Yes, it was, it was good."

"Seriously, that's all I get? It was good?"

"What's wrong with good?"

Kendall sighed. "Okay, I can hear that you're thinking about something else right now. So tell me about it."

And Logan did, while Kendall listened to him in silence. Finally, he said, "So she kind of tricked you to introduce you to her parents?"

"She also kicked me, did I mention that?"

"She . . . kicked you?"

"Yes, it really hurt."

"Oookaaay . . . What happened then?"

Logan looked over at the house, shaking his head. "I don't know, Kendall. I kind of feel like I did something wrong, but I don't know what it was."

"What do you mean?"

"We just got back. And Camille said she was sorry, and then she asked me something really weird, which didn't make any sense at all."

"What was that?"

"She asked me if my muscles were hurting again . . . Strange, right? I told her that this wasn't the case and that I didn't need to accept her offer. For some reason, it seems to have upset her."

"Okay, so . . . she felt lousy about what happened this afternoon and apparently wanted to make things up, right?"

"But she didn't say anything about that. She just said she really wouldn't mind taking care of my muscles again."

"So, she was sorry . . . And she offered you to do . . . what? To massage you?"

"I think so, that's what she did yesterday. But why would she want to massage me again when I'm not in pain?"

"So she offered to massage you again . . . Because she was sorry . . .?"

"Yes! Why-? Why do you keep asking the same questions?"

"Because I'm waiting for the light bulb above your head to start glowing."

"I'm standing outside, there is no light-"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Logan! Camille just wants to make it up to you. She doesn't want to massage you because you're in pain, but to apologize to you."

"But why did she ask-?"

"She used hints to make the situation more interesting. She just wanted to do something good for you."

"And I turned her down . . ."

"Unknowingly, but yes."

"That hurt her."

"Probably."

Logan sighed. "I'm a bad boyfriend."

"No, you're not. You're just not used to situations like that. But don't worry, I think I know exactly what to do to get you back into the game."

"What game?"

". . ."

"Oh! Right . . . sorry, I'm not quite familiar with all these sports metaphors."

"You know what, next time we see each other, I'll teach you all the terms you need to know."

"Yes, that would be a great help."

"I . . . I was joking, but . . . All right. So, do you want to know what to do?"

Lost in thought, Logan entered his room . . . and almost went out again. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were-"

"What do you apologize for?" Camille asked, who was standing in his room, only dressed in a t-shirt and panties. "This is your room."

"Um, right. But I can still go out if you want some privacy."

"Logan, if I wanted privacy, I would have changed in the bathroom."

Logan didn't know what to say. So, he just watched as Camille turned around and searched for something in her bag. When she leaned forward, he could see a small strip of skin between her t-shirt and panties. Unconsciously, he ran his tongue over his dry lips. 'Stop staring at her like that!' a voice in his head yelled at him, but he just couldn't take his eyes off her. More than that, he felt this intense urge to walk up to her and run his fingers over that very spot on her lower back. But wouldn't that be more than inappropriate? Did he have the right to do such a thing? He was her boyfriend, but still . . . His palms got sweaty. 'Oh, what the heck-', he thought, and made a decision.

Logan did what his instincts told him and walked up to Camille, who still seemed to be looking for something, and therefore paid no attention to him. As he stood next to her, the smell of freshly washed hair hit his nose. He took a deep breath of this scent, and slowly ran two fingers over this seductive narrow strip of skin. Camille's movements slowed, and Logan stopped immediately, fearing she might get angry. But when nothing happened, he continued to stroke her skin.

"So it worked, huh?" Camille said contentedly, straightening up a little.

"I think so," Logan replied quietly. When she stood upright again, he put his arms around her, pulled her close to his body, kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry . . . I should have known what you were just trying to-"

"Forget about it."

"You know, I think you're right. This day was a lot for me. My muscles and I could really use some attention."

"I know that you're not telling the truth," she said softly, giving him a light and sweet peck on the lips. "But I appreciate your efforts." She put her arms around his neck, scratching him gently. Logan closed his eyes for a moment. Yes, he really began to enjoy this feeling. "How about we lie down for a while and . . . cuddle?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Well, it might be my turn now to use hints and terms for something that actually stands for something completely different."

"A simple yes would have been enough for an answer."

Logan smiled, put a hand to her cheek and kissed her gently. "Yes," he whispered afterwards, "I have a good feeling about this." He sat down on his bed, grabbed her hand, and pulled her towards him so that she was sitting on his lap. "What are you doing?" she asked him, smiling.

"It's more comfortable this way," Logan replied quietly, his arms holding her tightly and his hands tenderly stroking her delicate skin down her back. Something was different. Last night he had been so nervous, excited, but still on the verge of freaking out. But now there was no trace of nervousness, all he felt was anticipation, excitement, and . . . there was something else too. A new feeling, strong and engaging. He couldn't name it, but it gave him confidence and courage, and that was exactly what he usually lacked. And for the sake of their current situation, he hoped it would last for quite a while . . .