They were exhausted. Organized, but exhausted. Caroline's master calendar for life, at least for Spring Term, was fully loaded and color coded. Her meetings and school events, Kate's choir practices and doctor appointments, Laurence's rugby matches and training. Just looking at some weeks on the calendar app on her phone made Kate dizzy. She reflected, not for the first time, that her life with Caroline seemed to operate either in fifth gear or sleep. She decided she would need to spend some time thinking about how best to resist this reality and when best to graciously yield to it.

Caroline, closing her laptop looked over to Laurence. "One more item." she said. "It only goes on the shared calendar if you want it to."

"I know, I know." he sighed.

"What?" asked Kate. "I thought we were done."

"School project calendars." said Laurence, with no small distaste in his voice.

"Oh." said Kate, not sure what minefield of family drama lay ahead.

"What's on this semester?" Caroline asked, neutrally. Mother and son were in unchartered territory. Laurence knew his mother knew, or could easily find out, what the term projects were. John used to ask the question, but John wasn't there anymore. If Laurence were honest, the last year or two, John hadn't really been focused on Laurence's projects either. But Laurence didn't want to think too deeply on the topic of his father's parenting. So he pretended a bit that his Mum didn't know, just as she pretended.

"History." he said. "That's a group project. Angus will probably want to build a trebuchet or a crossbow or something. That will be fine. He paused. "And biology." He sighed. "I think that's a solo job. I'm buggered if I'm going to survive the term."

"Why?" asked Caroline. The question was sincere. She was often a judge for the various competitions at school around student work. John had coached the boys and she had consciously held herself back from the effort, both to salve her conscience and to leave father and sons some space."

"Biology's not my subject." Laurence said shortly.

"Well, you always do well enough in it." she observed.

"Yes, but, it's fine when your just memorizing stuff for tests. But I don't find myself thinking very creatively about it." He sighed again. "Part of the project is a proposal for the project itself. It's so unfair. I have to come up with idea for the project, not just do one."

"I take it," asked Caroline, "we're a bit beyond cutting up worms to see if they'll regrow.

"God, Mum," Laurence snorted. "What century do you live in? It's all "active and engaged learning" now. Bloody flipped classrooms."

Kate considered that Caroline had been a leader in the curricular revolution that led to Laurence's predicament. Caroline had published articles, organized conference and been invited to give talks on inquiry based learning even in the foundational years of disciplinary curricula. The look on Caroline's face informed her that now would not be the best time to share the knowledge with Laurence.

"When's the proposal due?" asked Caroline.

"Next Monday." He offered an almost tragic sigh that required both Kate and Caroline to steel their smiles into submission. There was a pause as the three considered Laurence's dilemma. Finally, Kate stood up and began to gather mugs and plates to take to the dishwasher.

"Laurence," she said. "I don't think I'd be much good to you in the science department in general. But I can give you a backup plan in case you don't think of something by Monday."

"Kate," said Laurence kindly, "I don't think a comparative history of French and British biology will cut it."

"No, no. Not that." said Kate. "But," she wandered away from the main topic as Laurence had come to realize, she often did on subjects that engaged her imagination, "there's more than a small amount of interesting stuff about the exchange between British and French naturalists in the late 18th and early 19th centuries." Her voice seemed to soften in wonder as she thought a moment. "Joseph Banks and Kew Gardens, Leclerc and le Jardin du Roi - they'd make an interesting comparison. I'm sure somebody's done something on it." She came back to herself. "I'm sorry, I digress. What was I saying?"

Caroline hid a second smile as Laurence patiently prompted her, "Plan B?"

"Oh yes. Yes. Well, if you haven't come up with anything else, you could always do bread."

Now Caroline did not restrain her smile. But she did bite back the word 'brilliant.' She knew this was Kate's idea to sell. She hoped Kate was game to shepherd Laurence for the term if followed her lead.

"Bread?" Laurence asked.

"Bread." said Kate firmly. "Best biology project in human history. Unless you count beer, which really was genius. But I doubt the Head's going to let Year 11s doing home-brew projects for credit."

Caroline laughed. "Your doubts are deserved. She's a really stick in the mud from what I hear."

Laurence groaned. "My chance for glory dashed again. Do you realize how popular I'd be?"

"I'd rather you earn your glory on the playing field like an Englishman," his mother laughed.

"Actually," said Kate, "bread and beer have far more in common than you'd think. The key is yeast."

"Yeast?" asked Laurence.

"Yes, yeast. Now there's a fungus for the ages for you, Laurence. Caroline," she seemed to switch gears suddenly, "what did we do with the books I bought in Leeds?"

"Still in the bag on the floor of my office, I think." said Caroline.

"Hang on, Laurence," said Kate, dropping the mugs and plates on the counter, disappearing into Caroline's office. Mother and son looked at each other in shared confusion.

"Here we go," said Kate returning, three books in one hand and the empty bag swinging from the other. She dropped the bag and carried the books over to the table.

"Almost everything worth knowing about bread, right here." She pointed to her purchases, "English Bread and Yeast Cookery," "Crust and Crumb," and "Flour, Water, Salt, Yeast." Turning to Caroline, she said, "Not to get off topic, but you have a national library of cookbooks here and you don't have Elizabeth David or Peter Reinhart or Ken Forkish." Digressing again she said, "Reinhart, even Forkish, I see. If you're not much of a bread maker you wouldn't have to know him, but Davis - really Caroline, what happened?"

Caroline felt oddly defensive in her own kitchen. "I, don't bake bread," she half asked, half asserted.

Kate looked at her with genuine puzzlement. "I find that baffling." she admitted. "Anyway, these are my contribution to your collection. I meant to wrap them for you, but I think, Laurence needs them more urgently than you."

Turning to Laurence, she added. "Read the introductions - they have great overviews on the history of bread, on the absolute primacy of yeast in the story of human survival, some good stuff on grain cultivation, too. It's epic, really. If you want to do a project on it, come with me to the Farmer's Market on Saturday. We can get supplies for the hunting of the yeast."

Laurence wasn't sure if she was trying to help or convert him, but thought it best to take the books.

"If you're interested, I can lend you my H. E. Jacobs. That's the gospel on bread history."

Laurence nodded, somewhat bravely, Caroline thought, and cleared his throat. "How are you going to hunt yeast?" he asked cautiously.

"With apples, of course." she said.

"Right." said Laurence. "Of course."

Kate smiled at him and laughed at herself. "It's brilliant, trust me."

"You wouldn't consider a trip to the baking supplies aisle at Sainsbury's?" asked Caroline, a bit alarmed at the fervor that had seemed to take possession of Kate.

"Would you buy your footwear at Schus? asked Kate, scornfully. Caroline, as Kate knew, wouldn't. So she thought it best to leave the ball in Laurence's court. Laurence, thinking Kate had dealt his mother a rather harsh blow was surprised to see his mother gaze at her with unguarded affection.