Kirsten Cohen sat down next to her son. It was obvious that he was embarrassed about her discovery of the lipstick on his neck, but she knew her son well enough to tell when he wanted to talk to her about something. Sure, their talks had become more infrequent in the past year, but Kirsten still enjoyed the times when Seth opened up to her.

"So, are you going to tell me where this lovely shade of lipstick came from?" Kirsten gestured to the napkin as she settled down on a stool next to Seth's.

"Oh, God, Mom, please," Seth grimaced and put his head down on the counter. Kirsten reached over and ruffled his hair.

"Seth, you can tell me! I can be your mom and your dawg." Kirsten attempted.

"Mom." Seth picked his head up and faced her. "I thought we talked about this after - say it with me - Tee-a-wha-na. No slang for you. No slang, and no cooking - two basic rules that need to be followed by you at all times."

Seth signed and aimlessly swung his legs around the stool. He knew his mom, and she was nothing if not stubborn. "The lipstick - it's Summer's, ok?" He looked down, but he couldn't help himself from grinning.

Kirsten picked up on his happiness. "Oh hon, that's great. You know," Kirsten began to scoop the Chinese take-out onto four plates. "I think that Summer is going to be the talk of your school after she presented her honors project."

"What?" Seth couldn't believe this. Another Summer revelation?

"Oh, yeah, her independent study," Kirsten revealed casually. She paused and looked at Seth. "You know, Summer has been working in the company library - she's doing some great research into formulas of risk."

"Oh.right," Seth recalled Summer mentioning her interest in formulas and theories, but wondered why she hadn't said anything about an independent project. "Cool."

"She's extremely bright, very persistent," Kirsten mused.

"I took her with me to Grandpa's - well, I guess it was Julie Cooper's party - today." Seth popped a potsticker in his mouth as Kirsten playfully swatted his hand away from the food. "Grandpa seemed really impressed. Summer was talking finance with one of his friends, and she knew practically everything. Grandpa even told me that she reminded him of you."

"Of course," Seth added, grabbing another potsticker, "maybe that's just a cue to rethink getting involved with someone who's probably an awful cook."

"Hey!" Kirsten feigned anger. "But seriously, honey, just be careful with Summer. I know she seemed tough, but she's been through a lot. Now c'mon." Kirsten hopped off the stool and began to set out drinks and napkins. "Let's get dinner ready while Ryan and Sandy finish up with the luggage."

Seth slid off the stool and began to reach the top cabinet, handing dishes down to his mom. On an impulse, he kissed her on the cheek. "I love you, Mom."

Kirsten smiled. "Love you too." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------

Ryan and Sandy finished unloading the luggage and carried the matching black bags up to the master bedroom.

When they reached the bedroom, Ryan set the bags down with a sigh. "Hey, Sandy, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure!" Sandy closed the room gently. "What's going on?"

"Well," Ryan struggled with the words. He wasn't used to opening up, especially not to any sort of parental figure. "Marissa and I have been together for a few months now, but lately, things haven't been doing so great." He paused, unsure of how to continue.

"Okay," Sandy prompted him in his friendly voice. "So what seems to be the problem?"

"I feel really bad about it," Ryan admitted, "but Marissa has entered a real downward spiral lately." Sandy nodded. Jimmy Cohen had filled him in on Marissa's problems.

"Son," Sandy patted Ryan's back gently. "When we asked you to live here with us, I have to admit that we hoped that we could give you a new kind of life. I've told you this before - you don't have to be a parent anymore."

Ryan shook his head in agreement. "I don't want to have that responsibility again."

Sandy pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows. "I know that you care for Marissa," he said quietly. "But you need to make sure that you're living the life you want."

Ryan stood quietly, absorbing what Sandy had told him.

"Come on downstairs," Sandy patted Ryan's back again. "There's some pad thai with your name on it."