Matthew groaned as he shuffled into the kitchen, eyes narrowed against the bright light streaming in the wide window behind the sink. "I think I'm dying..." he mumbled, scrubbing a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

Emily had apparently been waiting for him to wake up because she had prepared an array of hangover remedies and a plate of breakfast in anticipation of him waking up feeling the effects of the previous night.

(She'd been hungover enough times to know better than to say anything in response...the pounding in his head was likely punishment enough.)

He grabbed for the bottle of Gatorade and the painkillers, tossing them back with a generous swallow of the drink, then flopped down on the couch, covering his eyes. "Why did I let Chloe talk me into those tequila shots?" he lamented.

"You drank tequila?" Emily asked, surprised. "I've barely ever seen you drink a beer..."

He shrugged, but didn't seem to have a good excuse for his newfound drinking habits. Aside from the fact that Chloe had asked and he was apparently helpless against her whims. "If it makes you feel any better, I may never drink again..." He paused, thought. "Assuming I survive this hangover."

She just smiled, shook her head. "Eat," she commanded, setting a plate of pancakes on the coffee table in front of him. "It'll help," she added. As he tucked into the stack of pancakes with obvious gusto, she said leadingly, "So... You and Chloe again?"

"Apparently." The word came out accompanied by a spray of crumbs. He couldn't help the wide, almost dreamy, grin that split his face as he reminisced on the night's surprising turn of events.

She just shook her head, smiling softly because he was her son and seeing him happy was the source of her greatest happiness. A beat. She sighed, asked, "Why are you so head over heels for her? You could have any girl..."

"Mom," he griped, rolling his eyes because they'd had this conversation at least a thousand times before.

She held up her hands in self-defence, already knowing where his rebuttal was going. "I know, I know...you've loved her since you were kids, I just don't understand why..."

He cut her off, "I want Celeste to have a family – a whole family – with her mom and dad together." Then, seeing the way Emily's face fell, he quickly backpedalled, "I don't mean that as a judgment against the way you raised me. I had a great childhood. It's just not what I want for Celeste."

"So, are you officially back together?" Emily queried, rather than open that particular can of worms. "Or was this just a one-time thing?" She'd seen her son go down this road more than once before and it always ended badly – she just didn't want to see him heartbroken again, forced to pick up all the pieces that Chloe always seemed to leave in her wake.

"I think this is the real thing, Mom," he insisted. "The way she kissed me...it felt different. Like it meant something." He got a far-off dreamy look on his face. "Maybe we could even give Celeste a sibling."

Emily made a little alarmed squeaking sound. Then, realizing how incriminating that reaction was, she tried to cover it with a cough, deliberately avoiding Matthew's eyes.

Matthew raised a brow at her reaction. "Something wrong?" he asked, not falling for her lame cover attempt.

"No, nothing," she was quick to insist, though her voice was an octave too high-pitched to be believable.

Matthew obviously didn't believe that, though. "Did something happen last night?" he asked, "I saw you talking to Clyde... He didn't break up with you, did he?" The idea produced an obvious note of anger in him (though he was far too hungover to act on it...).

"Sort of the opposite, actually," she admitted under her breath.

"Mom?"

She sighed, not entirely sure why she was opening up to him about such a private matter, but knowing that she trusted him explicitly... "Clyde kind of...suggested that we have a baby."

Matthew blinked in silent surprise for a few moments before finding his voice again. "Oh... Umm... Is that what you want?"

"I have no idea," she admitted. "When you were growing up, that's all I wanted. But I'm not exactly young anymore and Clyde is, well...Clyde."

"Mom, the only thing that matters is whether or not having another baby would make you happy," Matthew said. "You deserve to be happy."

She smiled softly. "I am happy," she insisted, "Being your mother."

He raised a brow. "But?" he prompted.

"But I always wanted a big family..." she confessed.

Matthew nodded slowly, obviously thinking something over. Finally, he said, "Clyde is a good man and he obviously loves you very much. I think he'd be a good father."

It was Emily's turn to prompt, "But?"

"I don't want to lose you," he said gently. At her confused look, he explained, "You told me that you almost died when you were pregnant with me – if anything were to happen to you this time..." He trailed off sadly.

"You're never going to lose me," she insisted. She settled next to him on the couch, gently stroking the wispy hair on the back of his neck that always seemed to be just a tad too long.

Smiling softly, Matthew leaned into her touch, eyes falling shut. "Good," he murmured, "Because I want you around for Celeste for a very long time."

She laughed a little. "Hey, do you really think the two of you could get rid of me this easily?" When her words failed to produce a smile on his face, she added, "Look, I know there's no certainty about the future, but I promise you I'll do my best to be there for a long long time."

He opened his eyes, met her gaze. "Thank you, Mom," he said sincerely. He heaved a sigh borne of weariness and pounding headache. "Maybe before you and Clyde have a baby, you should try adopting a cat..." It wasn't entirely clear from his tone whether it was intended to be a joke or not.

She nodded, gaze unfocused and thoughtful. "Yeah," she said on an exhale. "Yeah, maybe."