An hour later, Sam was done with his emails and sat curled into the corner of the couch flicking through the TV channels when she made her appearance dressed as promised, her pajamas barely visible under the oversized hotel robe and her hair up in a messy bun. She looked natural and motherly like she had in the morning. In fact, the relaxed day made her look incredibly young too.

The sight of her made him sit up a little straighter. "Is red okay?"

She nodded and sat cross-legged in the opposite corner of the couch, pulling a cushion onto her lap as and he flicked off the TV and started to pour.

"Just half a glass."

He poured a generous half and leaned towards her to hand it over, catching a familiar scent wafting from her. "You smell like Chey!"

She laughed, "I took the wrong lotion into the bathroom and thought 'what the hell' so I just used it." She stroked the skin on the back of her forearm, "It's actually really nice."

"Oh right. It was just a bit disorientating for a second."

Mercedes silently took a small sip of the wine then smiled. "This is tastes really good."

"I know. It's one of my favorites. I left it to breathe while you took your bath. Do you want some more?"

She shook her head and nervously ran her finger along the rim of the glass. It suddenly occurred to him that she probably didn't want to drink too much around him.

Mercedes took another sip and smiled at him. "So what did you eat?"

"Steak."

"Steak?" Her voice was disbelieving," After everything we already had today?"

He chuckled. "You and I both know those lunch portions were child sized!"

"But you stopped at practically every single snack stall that we passed too!"

That was true! He shrugged, "I think I burned most of the calories running after an excited six year old since the crack of dawn!"

"That's true. We did seem to cram a lot in. Was the steak any good?"

"It was okay for room service. Not a patch on those Mickey Mouse pancakes from this morning though!"

"Yep. They were pretty awesome. But don't think that excludes you from your promise to Chey. She still asks when you're coming to make her pancakes. I told you she doesn't forget stuff like that!"

"Damn! I'll add it to my list." He took a sip of his wine and sank back in his seat. "So how was the whirlpool bath?"

Her lips curved up as she nodded slowly. "Those jets are really good. Especially after a long day."

"In that case I might have to give it a go myself later. I'm not getting any younger and sitting Chey on my shoulders for so long probably wasn't the best idea."

Mercedes shot him a smug I knew it stare. "I said you'd regret doing that and you didn't listen!"

"Yeah well... I was feeling like Superdad at the time. Let an old man have his moment! I've missed out on so much so far…." He fingered his own glass. "It must have been so great watching her grow."

"It was. But time goes really quick. Some days it seems like only five minutes ago she was the tiniest thing in the world!"

"Would you ever have more kids?"

She shrugged. "I enjoy motherhood, but I don't really think more kids on the cards for me."

"Why not? You're an amazing mother!"

She shot him a look of pure disbelief at his response. "If I was to have another child it would only be within in a stable healthy relationship. That's not exactly my life right now." She shifted slightly, "So what about you? At least you've actually got a girlfriend. Would you guys ever think about it?"

Sam was stunned. He hadn't expected her to turn the question right back around on him. "Kirsten's not ready for kids yet. She has her career that she wants to pursue first."

"Ah yes, a career. I used to want one of those."

"So why didn't you?"

She shot him a look that instantly made him realize how stupid he was for even asking the question. For a moment he was lost for words. It was slowly starting to sink in just how much their brief moment had changed her life while his had his had continued as if nothing had happened.

Mercedes broke the resulting awkward silence. "So what's she like?"

"What's who like?"

She rolled her eyes. "Your girlfriend. This Kirsten chick!"

Yet again he shrugged. "She's okay. You might have seen her on TV. She often does the weather report in the mornings on channel 7."

She thought about it for a moment then suddenly a face did start to come to mind. "Wait… Kirsten… You mean Kirsten Kane? The stunning redhead with the really long legs and really short skirts?"

Sam nodded sheepishly.

"But she's like… twelve!"

He laughed. "She's twenty-four!"

"Stop trying to pretend that it doesn't make you sound like a perverted old man!"

"It's not like she's some student or some airhead model. She's a meteorologist! She studied hard and graduated top of her class! And it's only eight years between us! She's a professional, just like me."

Mercedes nodded. "Uh huh. I really hate to say this Sam, but there's a lot of meteorologists out there with more experience and longer skirts who could do the same job as her. But I guess a pretty face and a slim figure gets you much further in the cutthroat world of TV presenting!"

"I'm sure it wasn't like that."

She arched an eyebrow. "You think?" He looked at her, daring her to continue with her thoughts so dhe did. "Hey, I'm not saying I'm casting shade here, but surely you must know what I mean."

"Nope. I don't know that you mean!"

"I mean do you really think she'd have that job if she had exactly the same qualifications but looked like me?"

"But you're gor-"

"I wasn't fishing for a compliment Sam, I was stating a fact." She took another sip of her wine, "But your love life is none of my business unless it directly involves Chey so I'll drop the subject."

"Okay…"

"And anyway, aren't you supposed to be loading me with questions?"

"Ha! Yes… alright!" Sam poured himself a second glass of wine and offered more to Mercedes but she shook her head. Despite her sips her wine still looked barely touched. "First question… What's your favorite color?"

Mercedes frowned. "Really Sam? You say you have all these questions and you ask my favorite color?"

He grinned. "I'm starting you off gently."

"Okay, we'll start this easy. My favorite color is purple. What's your favorite food?"

"That depends on my mood. I love pizza at Stevie's and Rosa makes the most amazing Mexican and Thai food. Plus I'm now suddenly developing an obsession with homemade cookies…"

She laughed. "I wonder why that might be? Ha! So it looks like even though you can eat in the priciest of restaurants you're still a home food boy?"

"Definitely! If you'd grown up around Rosa's food you'd understand why. It makes no sense at all that I was scrawny as shit. My turn… what was Chey's first word?"

They perched on the couch, each curled up at their respective ends, asking each other the stupidest questions they could think of and laughing like a pair of children. Sam watched as Mercedes became more and more animated as she relaxed. Her eyes shone and there was an occasional dimple in her left cheek whenever she smiled a certain way. But only when she smiled that certain way. He learned the most embarrassing thing Chey'd said in public while Mercedes learned Sam had three scars from football and one from surgery following a burst appendix at the age of nine. Twenty questions became 'never have I ever' where it was revealed Sam had never tasted Kool-Aid and Mercedes had never played Spin The Bottle. Several rounds of that evolved into 'what was the name of'. That's where the questions became slightly more interesting. First pet and favorite teacher soon turned to naming the first movie star crush (Sam to Mercedes) first real crush (Mercedes to Sam) first person to send you a Valentine's card (Sam to Mercedes) then she asked him something that initially made him choke on his sip of wine.

"What was the name of the third girl you ever slept with?"

"Hey! That's a very personal question!"

She shrugged unapologetically, "Stop deflecting."

Sam sighed. "Third?"

"Yeah. I want to know if a lothario like you would still remember."

He didn't even miss a beat. "Third girl I ever slept with was called Shelby. Shelby Corchoran. It was a few weeks after I started college and I was still trying to find my feet and make friends in a new environment. We met at a party on campus and she was a year ahead of me. It was the usual story, she was cute and I enjoyed the attention. We exchanged numbers and I thought nothing of it but then she spent the next few days hotly pursuing me. To be honest I was pretty flattered. Girls who didn't know my surname didn't pursue me at that point in my life because I was still growing out of being a geek, and single hotshot businessman Stevie was getting all the female attention. But she was relentless and I was a spotty nineteen year old boy with no girlfriend and plenty of hormones. I simply thought my luck was in and we spent one awkward fumbling night together. Then two weeks later she came out as gay and I realized I was just a test to see if she swung towards boys or girls. Somehow my manhood had failed and it knocked my confidence for a really long time."

Mercedes was stunned. It wasn't the kind of story she was expecting. "Wow!"

"Wow for what? Remembering or being used as a sex toy?"

"Both I guess. I suppose having an experience like that makes your playboy reputation make more sense."

Sam said nothing. He didn't want to continue that line of conversation. "My turn. What was the name of… of the first boy you kissed?"

"The first boy I kissed?" The question was repeated more to herself than it was to him. Sam was about to mock her for not even being able to remember when he noticed a change in her expression that stopped his words before they came out.

"The first boy I ever kissed was called Riley." Her voice was quiet and it took him a moment for the significance of the works to sink in. Suddenly the mood changed from light and fun to extremely heavy.

"Riley? As in Chey's middle name?"

She nodded.

He opened his mouth to ask another question but quickly realized that if he stayed quiet she'd probably continue on her own. She'd already said this much and for her to name her child after the first boy she kissed meant that there was definitely one hell of a story behind it. There was no way she would just leave it there.

And he was right.

She didn't.