a/n: Had a sudden urge to play with these two again. This is what came out of that. My undying love and thanks to Chicklette, rmhaleff, and fiberkitty for their beta brains, help, advice and support. Seriously ladies, thank you so very much.

As always, I don't own them, I just make them do dirty things.

Edward is a wreck.

He hasn't stopped fidgeting or pulling at the collar of his shirt, while bouncing his leg up and down under the table. I place my hand on his knee and give it a gentle squeeze, hoping to reassure him with my presence. Edward's leg stops bouncing, but he begins to play with the ring on his finger, twisting it over and over and over.

"Edward, calm down."

"I can't," he whispers. "What if they hate me?"

"They won't. No one hates you."

"But what if they do?"

They are Edward's paternal grandparents: Anthony and Elise Masen. Edward was able to find the identities of his birth parents, but his mother didn't want any contact. His father, Edward Masen Sr., was deceased but his parents were still alive, and we're at a restaurant waiting to meet them for the first time.

We are also a good twenty minutes early because of Edward's nerves.

An earlier round in our playroom did nothing to alleviate his anxiety.