Playdates and Permission Slips

11. Making the Grade

Author: OriginalCeenote

Summary: Logan and Ororo’s exes continue to get in the way of the two of them getting closer.

Author's Note: Poor Logan…

Kids were less complicated than adults. Logan knew there were plenty of people who would disagree with him, but he’d rather suffer a slumber party of Laura’s shrill and giggling friends, or watch one of her soccer games in roasting heat than endure another potluck. Other kids’ parents sucked.

Every time he wanted to talk to Ororo, something got in the way. Scratch that; make that several someones.

All he’d wanted to do last night was bring some chips and dip and let his daughter have a nice night with both of her parents for a change, even if listening to Sil and Vic for an hour felt like chewing his arm out of a trap. She’d been pretty excited from the moment he’d come home, chattering at him the whole way to the convenience store to get some snacks. She filled his ear while he parked his Escort in the back of the surprisingly crowded lot at the school. Great. More people to stumble over when it was time to leave.

Laura was comfortably attired in her favorite jeans with embroidered butterflies. Weekends and shindigs like this were an excuse to hang out uniform-free with her friends.

And off she went. Rachel swooped down and stole her away while Logan ambled through the makeshift buffet. Highbrow offerings like prime rib and shrimp cocktail and several other items lurking in covered chafing dishes piqued his interest and made his mouth water. Who took all the trouble? He loaded his plate and peered around for a free table. Before he could sneak over to the one on the edge of the room with two empty folding chairs, Laura waved over to him from the one where Jean and Scott were holding court. Someone just kill me now…

Summers looked even less enthusiastic about the seating arrangements as suddenly lost interest in a piece of roasted chicken. He gave Logan a stony look until Jean nudged him to get them both something to drink, pleading for a Diet Coke.

“Dad, can we sit here with Rachel?”

“Sure, Punkin, knock yerself out.” When he let his eyes scan the room for another possible table - shoot, someone took those last two damned folding chairs! - Jean intervened. She swept her arm out toward the length of their table and smiled at him.

“Pull up a chair and join us, there’s plenty of room! Make yourself comfortable.” Fat chance. He slid out his chair and hung his jacket over the back of a second chair to reserve it for Laura, who had made herself scarce. He heard Ororo’s low voice murmuring behind him and restrained himself from craning around to watch her. One thought stuck with him: His Royal Highness was her ex. It was consolation enough. Lucas soon undid his efforts.

“Hey, Logan, check out my new video game,” he offered, sidling up to him and nudging his arm, practically shoving his Game Boy at him to peek. Loud, tinny sound effects and a display of digital violence assailed his eyes and ears.

“Looks fun,” Logan mused, lying through his teeth. “Which one is it?”

“Transylvania,” he replied proudly, before he peeked back at the food tables. “What’d you bring?” Logan shrugged lamely.

“Chips and dip. Over on that end.”

“Cool! NATE! They’ve got chips!” He thunked down the Game Boy, and Logan assumed he wanted him to look after it for sakekeeping. Both boys took off to load up their plates with nachos, despite Jean’s injunction for them to eat some real food before the night was out. Scott was taking a surprisingly long time getting drinks. Ororo’s voice was suddenly by his elbow.

“I can take that if you want,” she offered, holding out her hand for the game console. “Lucas’ll be wondering where it went by the end of the night.”

“Sure,” he replied, handing it back to her. He ignored that funny little glow from their fingers touching when he passed it off and cleared his throat. “Might not stay that late tonight. I’ve gotta start my day earlier tomorrow morning to drop Laura off for the field trip.” Better to make his excuses now, he reasoned. It was too hard to have to look at her, knowing how hard it was to not be able to talk to her without and audience. And what a gathering it was…

The big blond showoff in the expensive suit was still hovering over Jean and dancing attendance on her that Summers couldn’t have swallowed too well. The other big showoff in the equally expensive suit was invading Logan’s space.

“Mother was wondering when you were planning to keep her company for dinner, and so was I,” T’Challa drawled casually. “Why don’t you gather up Lucas and tell him to come eat?”

“He’s doing a pretty good job of that himself,” Ororo deadpanned, watching her son probe the contents of one tray with a serving fork before snatching up a huge piece of cold ham. Dang, that boy could eat!

“His grandmother wants the pleasure of his company. And yours, before the night is out.” His fingers were gentle but insistent around her elbow as he attempted to pry her away. Her gaze was frosty as she tore it from Logan and aimed it at Lucas’ father. “I’d like to borrow Ororo from you for a while,” he explained to Logan, but his voice held pride and possession, suggesting that he was the one lending Ororo to him. The corners of Ororo’s mouth turned down mulishly. Logan recognized that look as one that Sil used to give just before she was done being polite…

“I wasn’t ready to be borrowed yet,” she informed him quietly. Too quietly. “I’m going to get a plate.” She jerked her arm from him and headed toward the table. She had her back up, and Logan suppressed a tidy smile at her departure. Her walk was sexy when she was mad…

“I’ll leave you to enjoy your dinner with your family,” T’Challa decided. The message was clear. Mind your own business and back off.

“Likewise, bub,” Logan replied dryly, and he had the satisfaction of watching T’Challa’s eyes narrow for a moment before he turned on his heel.

His mother was already seated at the table closest to the buffet, preening like a guest of honor. Like her son, she was fashionably overdressed and overcoifed, but she was still a handsome woman who commanded a lot of attention. Her own smile dropped a notch when she saw him return without her daughter-in-law.

“She’s certainly taking her time,” Ramonda remarked with a sniff. “Perhaps she’s forgotten her manners after living in this country so long. N’Dare would be appalled.”

“She wouldn’t have pictured this for her grandson,” he considered, but he felt a flare of defensiveness toward his ex-wife, just for a moment.

She was just as proud, haughty and beautiful as ever. And if there was anything T’Challa enjoyed, it was the challenge of pursuit and the inevitable conquest. Her profile was still patrician and her figure hadn’t lost any of its lush firmness after having Lucas. She still moved elegantly, and he remembered how gawky and athletic she’d been as a girl when they’d first met. Her mother made progress with whipping her into shape, but she was damned stubborn.

Jean prodded Ororo gently as she helped herself to a couscous salad and some of the shrimp. “Why didn’t you mention T’Challa was coming?”

“I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

“Oh, come on, you, dish! Lucas had to be excited to see his father! It’s been a while since he was stateside,” she cajoled. She peered around the room impatiently as though she were looking for someone.

“That’s the problem. On the one hand, he drives me freaking nuts when he shows up and tries to run my ranch, something he doesn’t have any business doing. On the other hand, I hate it when he leaves Luke waiting on him to visit when he’s busy running a country. He’s so hardheaded,” she griped.

“Pot calling the kettle,” Jean sniffed. Then she scowled. “I asked Scott to bring me a soda a while ago.” She selected a Diet Coke from the trays of cans lined up on the end. “Where did he get off to?”

“Right over there, talking to Ali,” Ororo shrugged. “Try the shrimp, Jean, it’s not bad.” Color flooded Jean’s cheeks.

“What could those two possibly have to talk about? I mean, just look at her! We’re adults now, and she’s a total loose cannon. How can the school let her dress like that?”

“She has tenure. And the kids sure pay attention to her in music class.”

“It’s like trying to ignore a traffic accident.” Meow… Ororo thought. “How can she stand drawing so much attention?” Jean was transparent. Several parents were eyeing the flamboyant teacher and Mr. Summers, well known for having the nicest car when he was volunteer driver. She would have been disappointed if she could hear the conversation they were engaged in.

“Who do you like this season for Fantasy Football?”

“I haven’t entered the pool yet with my bets, but I’ve gotta stand by my Eagles. Just bought myself a lucky shirt to wear on Monday night.”

“You guys and lucky shirts. It’s like football game voodoo. You wear the shirt when you watch it at home, or you jinx your team?”

“It’s an unwritten rule,” he confirmed, and his lips twitched. He changed subjects. “Did you bring anything for the shindig?”

“Bagged salad. That’s the best I do on any day of the week.” Jean had brought a tamale pie casserole that, despite the more elaborate buffet, was being quickly dispatched. “I’m not always home at night, so my oven practically has cobwebs in it.”

“Where do you go?”

“My rented studio. Just kick around.” She didn’t elaborate, and he didn’t ask, even though he wanted to pepper her with questions. More importantly, he wanted to eventually hear her sing. But back to pleasantries. She helped him with her efforts. “Jean looks great. She hasn’t changed a bit. And your kids take after you both.”

“Nope, she hasn’t really changed that much.” His stomach roiled uncomfortably when the words left his mouth. I never really knew her at all. Ali noticed the uneasy set of his brows and shoulders, and she was interrupted when Jean appeared, a civil smile pasted onto her face.

“I was wondering where you were,” she accused him as she threaded her arm through Scott’s, pressing her breast against it.

“I’m right here where you left me,” he beamed goodnaturedly. “Ali, have a good time.”

“You too,” she waved, taking her leave to talk to some of the other parents. Jean’s voice was cold as she tugged him aside, all friendliness gone.

“What were you pulling, Scott?”

“I was being polite and talking to Nate’s teacher. It’s a Meet and Greet, Jean. It doesn’t hurt to get to know the faculty.”

“You already know Ali. Mingle with some of the other ones,” she snapped.

“Warren’s on the school board, honey, so why don’t you take your own advice? We see him often enough. Don’t monopolize his time.” He followed her slowly back to the table, taking his sweet time as he nodded hellos to the soccer parents he recognized from the first practice.

Lucas looked anxious at the dinner table as his grandmother fussed over him. She’d already snatched away his Game Boy, and he was scowling fit to freeze his face that way.

“Sit up straight, and don’t maul your food like a beast,” she nagged, physically prying him up into suitable posture from where he’d been bent over his plate. “You don’t see your father behaving like that, Lucas! Look how you’ve learned to act since your mother dragged you here! And look at that plate,” she tsked, before her eyes softened. “T’Challa, your boy takes after you, he’s got the same hollow leg. And look at how big he’s grown.” She affectionately tweaked his ear and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, and Luke felt a flush of warmth toward her until she pronounced, “We need to do something about this dreadful baseball cap. Take it off, we’re inside.”

Ororo was held captive at the table, since she wanted to maintain good form. Ramonda and her hardheaded son were making that next to impossible. Her clothes were “outrageous,” her business was “unnecessary,” and her son was “underprivileged” living away from his father. Just keep getting up in my face, woman. Ororo forked up some couscous to keep her mouth full to avoid having to talk. Every time T’Challa turned to ask her a question, she nodded around another mouthful, confirming Ramonda’s assumption that Ororo was responsible for her grandson’s ill manners.

Jean was driving him nuts.

“Don’t forget Rachel’s birthday party. Didn’t you get the invitation?” She picked that time to remind him just as Laura and Rachel showed up at the table, both smuggling cookies in folded napkins.

“Pleasepleaseplease, can she come, pleeeeeeeease?” Rachel cried, bouncing up and down on her feet. Laura’s arm was hooked into hers and her face was expectant. He sighed heavily, trying to ignore Summers at the edge of the table, who seemed to wait for his reaction.

“Sure, darlin’,” he replied as he braced himself for the screams.

“YAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY!” He rocked back in his seat with amusement as they jumped up and down. A rousing tumble of “oh my God’s” and “I can’t waits” ensued while Rachel bragged on and on - much like her mother - about her party. Logan mentally counted his money and planned out the inevitable gift. Then he had a brainstorm: Silver was going to have Laura that week before the party. She could shell out a few bucks for a gift.

And speak of the she-devil…

“I was looking for you, Logan, where the heck did you park?” She looked good, he thought grudgingly, and she smelled expensive. She checked the time on her slim platinum Rolex and chided, “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough. Get yerself a plate before it’s all gone. Vic,” he nodded bluntly.

“Hey,” was the gruff reply. There was no love lost. “Where’s the squirt?” he asked, even though Laura was right that at the table.

“I’m right over here!” she cried, and she launched herself at her mother in a strangling hug. Silver smiled at the top of her head before glaring at her ex. “What did you bring?” He noticed with satisfaction that Laura only gave her stepfather a perfunctory hug.

“We just dropped a dessert off at the table. I’m glad I didn’t bring more, I thought this was a potluck?”

“So did everybody else. Just check the garbage for all the other shit folks brought.”

“God, you’re such a potty mouth,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. “Vic, sit down. I’ll grab us a couple of plates.”

“Still fixin’ cars?” rumbled the blond mountain of a man.

“Yup. Still got the Hummer?” He tried to keep the faint sneer out of his voice.

“Yep. She’s runnin’ pretty sweet,” he bragged. “Just got a new set of rims.” Both men’s eyes followed Silver as she perused the offerings, loading up plates for herself and her second husband. “We’re takin’ Laura this weekend,” he announced. “Hope ya don’t mind.”

“Laura’s the one who might mind. She’s got her heart set on goin’ to a birthday party.”

“There’ll be other parties,” Vic shrugged. “Talk it over with Silver.” He’d passed the buck. Logan wasn’t surprised. Asshole.

“Pullin’ her away from this one’ll be like pulling teeth. Good luck.” Logan didn’t plan on making it easy for either of them. He could suck it up to take his daughter to Jean’s if he had to. He wasn’t in the mood to make anything easier for Sil and Vic. She returned to the table and imperiously nagged him to make room.

“Hello,” Jean offered, rising to shake her hand. Silver looked surprised and took it, measuring her.

“And you are?”

“Jean. Rachel and Nate’s mom. The girls play soccer together.” She peered at Logan as if to seek his support and her smile was almost too bright. Silver released her hand quickly and sat down. “I’m holding Rachel’s birthday party this weekend. We’d love it if she could come.”

“We’ll see. I didn’t want to rearrange my plans. Victor and I had something planned for Laura already.” She glared at Logan silently, not liking his accomplice in his blackmail. Her only comfort was that Logan looked slightly uncomfortable. The redhead was still staring at him through most of the meal. Silver was ensconced close to Vic, leaning against him like a cat. Some man whom she assumed was Jean’s husband was watching the conversation dispassionately as he finished the rest of his chicken.

A rock and a hard place. When the heck would the dinner end?

His plate was conveniently empty, and he saw a brief opportunity open up, spying Ororo moving toward the hallway. He made his excuses to Silver, practically stumbling over her and Vic on his to the trash. He pitched his plate and made a beeline to the cafeteria exit.

She wasn’t at the rest room. He found her staring at the trophy case with her arms folded, looking cross and frustrated.

“You and Luke stayin’ long?”

“That depends on his dad,” she replied. She found the trophy case pretty interesting, if the way she kept avoiding his eyes was any indication. “He came to see him.”

“Guess I got the impression he wanted to see you, too.” She sighed and rubbed her nape. “I didn’t wanna intrude.”

“You weren’t.”

“Couldn’t tell. Felt like I was gettin’ the bum’s rush when he came over.”

“He’s good at making people feel that way. That’s why I’m not with him anymore.”

“Yer not, huh?”

“I haven’t been for some time. Things didn’t work out.” She eyed him askance. “He doesn’t live locally, Logan.”

“Sounds like that’s gonna change pretty soon. I heard the announcement inside a little while ago.” He still felt a flicker of satisfaction. She had him at “Things didn’t work out.”

“That has nothing to do with me. He’ll see Luke more often. That’s all.” Logan didn’t look convinced.

“Ya never know.”

“I was married to him at a young age, and it took several years to get away from him and have my own life. I know him pretty well, Logan.” She was beautiful, this time wearing a striking red sweater and black skirt. “I’d better get back inside. I just needed some air.”

“Ro…wait.” He caught her arm before she could dash off. “Please.” She looked down at his hand, which channeled warmth that pooled all the way down to her toes. Darn him, she thought indignantly. “I know this ain’t the time or the place, but I haven’t had much time t’talk with ya…ya know what I’m tryin’ ta say.” Her blue eyes softened.

“What are you trying to say, Logan?”

“I wanna see ya. I know yer busy, but I wouldn’t mind spendin’ a little more time with you, ‘Ro.” She smiled at the nickname, quickly growing fond of it.

“You’ll see me. You’ve got yard duty this week?” He nodded his assent. “I’ll be taking a shift on Friday. The rest of the week I volunteered to grade papers.” Before he could reply, Laura came running out of the cafeteria, looking for him.

“Dad, let’s have dessert!” she piped up. “Hi, Mrs. Munroe.” She darted off. Ororo chuckled.

“The natives are getting restless.”

“Ya give folks free food, and it’s every man and women fer themselves.” He was smiling behind her as she held open the door to let her enter first. Sure enough, there was a bottleneck of parents attacking chilled mousse and pans of tiramisu. For the rest of the night, he was cornered by Laura’s friends’ parents from her soccer team. Ororo had disappeared.


~0~

On the one hand, he griped to himself, it wasn’t Toys R Us. On the other hand, it was ‘tween girl hell. Everything in the damned store was pink and covered in sparkles, not to mention it all cost as much as real bling. Laura talked him into Limited Too as much for Rachel’s benefit as her own. She drooled over accessories and sweaters while he nearly had a coronary at the price tags, warning her to pick out something small. She had a pink mohair sweater with a mock marabou collar in mind; he nudged her toward the earrings. They gradually settled on a tee shirt with rhinestones that spelled out “Spoiled Rotten.” Logan couldn’t agree more.

Silver was much better at this. She begged off taking Laura shopping for the gift, much to Logan’s frustration, but, he rationalized, he was the one taking her to Jean’s. He took small consolation at fortifying himself with a corn dog at the food court while Laura cajoled him out of his quarters for the arcade.

The next few days were a blur. Field trip. Yard duty. Body work on a sweet Lincoln they were restoring. And no sign of Ororo on Friday. That sucked. It was the only thing he’d looked forward to all week.

He bounced possible scenarios around in his head. She could have been busy at work. She could have picked out a different lunch shift for yard duty. Yeah, that could have happened. Despite the logical conclusions he tried to draw, he kept coming back to the last, worst option. Ororo had stood him up. And that hadn’t even had a date yet!

He was deep in his musings and making his way down the hall when a familiar voice stopped him. The kids were rushing down the hall, and he scolded two boys who nearly barreled into him for running, growling at them to walk. A brisk tap landed on his shoulder.

“Hey, Logan!” Luke greeted him. “Saw you at the playground today.”

“Where are you s’posed t’be, bub?” He rolled his eyes in good humor.

“Study hall,” he shrugged.

“Then what’re ya doin’ here talkin’ t’me?” Luke grinned and held out his hands helplessly.

“Just wanted to say hi. I’m not gonna be at soccer practice today.” Logan’s brow furrowed.

“Why not?”

“Mom’s sick. She can’t take me, and she doesn’t want me to go without her.” Logan felt hot prickles at this revelation. She hadn’t stood him up. And opportunity had just knocked.

“Why don’t we give yer mom a call, Luke. Let’s see if she needs me ta fill in for her.”