"Lo, didn't your mama teach you not to leave the front door hanging open? You're..."

"Air conditioning the neighborhood, I know." His friend shut the door behind them. "This may shock you, Hank, but since my Mama is over thirteen-hundred miles away I'm not really worried about her skinning my butt for wasting a couple of bucks of electricity."

"I'm gonna tell her you said that."

They were standing in a long hallway. A tiny woman with bright red hair peeked out of a door near the end, smiling brightly. "Lo, honey, is that...? Oh, I see it is! You can't be anyone but Hank Crank, and that must be Chill Pill in the box. Bring him back, and you can turn him loose in the yard. I bet he'd like to stretch his legs." She popped back out of sight.

Hank gave Logan a questioning look. "Hank, you remember I wrote you that I was seeing someone?"

Hank smiled broadly. "You did, but from the details you gave me it could have been anyone from Madonna to that Keanu Reeves Heloise is so fond of."

Logan laughed as they started down the hall. "Neither one."

The woman was tending a large pot of something that smelled good. "Hank, let me present Miss Tina Bergeron."

Tina put down the wooden spoon and shook hands. Hank was pleased to find that her handshake was firm, but not aggressive. "I'm pleased to meet you. Bergeron--are you a Lou-eez-eanna girl?"

She laughed. "No, but I can play one if that's what they want. I'm from Canada."

Logan put an arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze. "Land of many fine actors. Tina immigrated in hopes of kicking her career into drive."

"It hasn't happened yet," she said wryly.

"But you're on your way, honey. You're on your way."

Hank snapped his fingers. "Say! You're the counter girl in that Dunkin' Donuts commercial--the one who gives a toddler a Munchkin, then turns around to find the place full of Munchkins from The Wizard of Oz, all with their hands out."

Tina grinned in delight. "You saw that? I did it over a year ago."

"Tina, it was about donuts. Hank was a Trooper--of course he'd notice a donut commercial. Yard is through here, Hank."

The yard was smaller than Hank's at home, with less shade, but it was still pleasant. There was a gentle slope leading away from the house, and there was a little boy with hair just as red as Tina's playing near the back fence. When he saw them, he came streaking over, plump legs churning industriously. "Lo!" he said excitedly. "This is Hank, huh? Innt he?" He pointed at the pet taxi. "An' that's Chill Pill." He clapped his hands, hopping up and down.

Hank couldn't help smiling. "Well, Logan still wins, but this is the second most enthusiastic greeting I've gotten. What's your name, partner?"

The boy went still and stuck out his hand. "How-do-you-do-Mister-Crank-my-name-is-Chase-Bergeron-does-he-bite-can-I-pet-him?"

Hank laughed, shaking hands as he set down the taxi. "I'm pleased to meet you, Chase, and I'm pleased to see your mama has taught you to call your elders Mister, but I guess you can call me Hank, if she doesn't mind."

"I don't mind," Tina called through the door.

"Chill Pill hasn't ever bitten anyone, and I don't expect he will, as long as you don't go poking your fingers in his mouth. You're welcome to pet him--he'd like that. He especially likes it if you scratch right behind his ears. In fact, I'm sure he'd like to play with you. My niece Eloise plays with him all the time. Just don't chase him headfirst into a wall, okay? That makes him dizzy."

"No, Sir!" Chase was digging in his pocket as Hank opened the pet taxi. As Chill Pill waddled out, the little boy pulled out a baggie, opened it, and removed something moist, gray, and squashy. He started to hold it toward Chill, then stopped, looking at Hank. "It's just an ol' worm I found. Can he have it?"

"He sure can." Hank patted Chill Pill as the little boy offered the worm. "You're going to get fat, old son."

Chase giggled as the 'dillo nipped the end of the worm, then chomped, slowly drawing it into his mouth, like a strand of spaghetti. "He likes it. I ate a worm onc't, but I didn't like it much."

Logan covered his mouth to stifle a laugh, and Hank said, "Chase, what do you think of Rick Flair?"

The boy responded promptly. "He's a poopy-head. C'mon, Chill Pill, I'll race you to the back!" He took off running. Chill Pill, perhaps hoping for another worm, followed at what was for him a brisk pace.

Hank shook his head. "I may have just met my future nephew-in-law."

"He's something else," agreed Logan fondly. "I like him an awful lot." His voice softened. "Just as much as I like his mama."

Hank gave his friend a shrewd look. "It's that way, is it?" Logan nodded. "Good. I was sorry when Janelle passed away--she was a good old girl. But I know darn good and well she'd have wanted you to have someone else in your life. You never were good at being alone, Logan." Logan had married his high school sweetheart, and they had been blissfully happy--right up until breast cancer claimed her six years before.

"You're right, Hank," he said quietly. "Just before she slipped away she made me promise I wouldn't wall myself up. She said she wanted the chance to look down from heaven and watch over me and a new family. Since we never could have kids, if I had a baby with someone else, she'd be its guardian angel."

"I bet she's real tickled with Chase."

"I'm sure she is. But Hank?" He cut eyes at his friend. "It looks like she's going to get that baby to watch over after all."

Hank's jaw dropped. "Logan!" He glanced toward the kitchen.

Logan smiled. "How would you feel about being my best man, Hank?"

He lost his breath when the bigger man enveloped him in a bear hug.

Dinner was Newfoundland Cod Chowder with crusty French bread, and rice. Tina watched, shaking her head as Hank spooned a generous helping of rice into his bowl before filling it with chowder. "When Logan told me to fix the rice, I thought he was being crazy. I've never heard of eating rice with chowder."

Hank spread butter on a chunk of bread. "I suppose it comes from being so close to Louisiana, but we pretty much eat rice with anything that's got enough liquid to make it worthwhile. Tina, I'm pleased to see that Logan has found himself a lady friend who can cook. I figured all the women he'd run into here in California wouldn't know how to do more than boil an egg or microwave a Weight Watchers dinner."

"Are you kidding? My Nana Dilly always said 'never mind learning to cook to please a man. You're going to be eating your own cooking all your life.' I learned."

"Sounds like my kind of lady."

"Hank," said Logan, "I have to meet with a couple of clients tomorrow, and I won't be free till the afternoon. How would you like to go have a tour of the television studio where Tina works?"

"Say, I'd like that just fine! Are you filming a program there, Tina?"

She snorted. "I wish. I'm currently between acting gigs. I'm working as production assistant for a couple of the shows."

Hank frowned. "A couple? I would've thought being production assistant for one was a full time job."

"So would I," said Logan, his expression irritated. "I keep telling her she needs to tell them to cut her back to a decent number of hours, or at least give her a raise."

"Logan, we've discussed this. Right now this is my best opportunity. All I've been getting lately is audience work for infomercials and trade show demonstrations. At least at BLAB! I have a chance to run into people who might be able to give me a chance at some screen time. Besides," she reached over and rumpled Chase's hair. "I get free daycare at the studio. Chase is right there, and I can drop by and see him during the day, have lunch with him."

Logan sighed. "Can't argue with that, I suppose. There aren't many jobs that offer that sort of perk."

"I have to warn you, Hank," cautioned Tina. "You'll need to be up early. The studio is located here in Glendale..."

"Not fashionable, but a good choice for a new station," commented Logan. "It's close to Hollywood, but the rent and taxes are a lot less."

"As I was saying before I was interrupted, the studio is close-by, but the first show is at eight, and I need to be there by seven-thirty, so you'll have to be ready by seven. I'm sorry."

Hank waved. "That's all right, Tina. I suppose I could sleep late, since I'm on vacation, but I'll probably be up at my usual time."

Tina looked blank, the looked at Logan. "Hank usually gets up around five-thirty," Logan informed her. "Hold over from being in the Corps."

Tina shook her head. "I certainly am glad you managed to break yourself of that habit, Logan, or it would have played havoc with our domestic happiness."