"So Dad," Sydney asked, testing her new found knowledge, "who called you this morning?"

"Called? This morning?" Jack responded flatly.  "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Three am.  Ring, ring." Sydney reminded him helpfully.

"I'm sure you were dreaming, Sydney." Jack allowed a slight annoyance to creep into his voice.

"Nice try, Dad.  It woke me up...and I heard you talking."

Jack paled slightly.  "You heard ..."

"Oh, don't worry.  I couldn't make out what you were saying."

Jack was silent for a moment.  "Why did you ask, if you already knew?"

"I didn't.  I don't.  At least, not for certain.  It was Mom, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

Sydney sighed.  Sometimes, talking with her father was like pulling teeth.  "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"What did she have to say?"

Jack considered this, then smiled slightly.  "She was concerned about my lawn care."

"She called you all the way from where ever she is to ask you about the lawn?!" Sydney was incredulous. Her father must be holding something back. 

"That's what I said," Jack answered smugly.

"Anything else?"

"Er, nothing of interest," Jack mumbled.

Her father was mumbling.  Mumbling, for god's sake.  One thing was for sure, Sydney realized, her father was a completely different person whenever her mother was involved. 

"Why don't we watch the next video, Sydney?" Her father was obviously trying to deflect her. She considered pushing him a little further, but decided on a better tactic.  A more subtle approach was required.

"Sydney? The video? " Jack prompted, pointedly.

Sydney complied, hitting the play button on the remote.  The scene flicking before them showed her mother, receiving a teacher of the year award.  She had the award hanging in her bedroom, one of the many of her mother's things her father had given to her.

The phone rang.  When her father made no move to answer it, Sydney paused the video and picked up the closest extension.  "Bristow residence.  Sydney speaking."  She felt like she was back in Junior High school.  The nanny she had for her three years in middle school had been very proper, very old school.  There was a proper way to sit, to eat, and to answer the telephone.  Nanny Jenkins would be suitably horrified at her current telephone habits, but at least the sitting and eating manners had stuck.

"Sydney? Kendall asked me to call your father.  There's been a new development.  We need you both right away."

"Okay, Weiss.  Thanks, I'll tell my Dad."  She replaced the phone into its cradle and gently touched her father's shoulder.  He had been pretty deeply lost in thought, so her touch startled him.  "Weiss called.  We have to go."

"You go on ahead, sweetheart.  I need to change into something more suitable."

"Dad, you look fine. It's not like you are wearing jeans." 

"Thanks honey, but I'll be more comfortable in a suit and tie."

His suit of armor, she realized.  The formality of the suit and tie kept people from getting too close.  "Okay.  I'll see you there."

Jack listened as the door closed behind his daughter, then leaned back into the sofa.  Sydney had paused the video somewhere in the middle of 'Laura's' acceptance speech.  He remembered that night very well.  It was the first time he'd met her UCLA colleagues. She hadn't wanted him to attend and that had bothered him.  They argued about it for days.  Finally, he exploded. 

"What is it Laura?  Are you so ashamed of me, you don't want me around your college buddies?" Goaded by an anger he couldn't explain, he pushed her even further.  "Or are you having an affair and you're afraid I'll find out?  Is that it?"

Laura slapped him, hard.  "How dare you say such a thing.  How dare you even think such a thing!"

"Then why, Laura?" Anger and hurt warred equally within him.  If she wasn't having an affair, then she must not want to be seen with him.  It was the only conclusion he could reach.  And that hurt.

"Jack."  Her voice was now soft and tender. She reached for his hand and caressed it softly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you by not having you come with me."  He tried to pull away, but she held fast.  "I don't want to share," she told him finally.

"Share? I don't want to share your award.  I just want to be a part of you receiving it."

"No, sweetheart.  Not the award.  There's a dance following the presentation.  You'll have to dance with all the women and I don't want you to."

"Laura, you're telling me that we've been fighting because you don't want me to dance with a few women?"

"Don't say you haven't been warned."

The phone rang again, interrupting his thoughts. 

"Bristow."

"I had a feeling you hadn't left yet.  Dad, Weiss said it was urgent."

"I'm on my way."  Reminiscing would have to wait until later.