Gillian didn't wait for the light to go out before turning to her husband and demanding: "So what did you tell Lewis about religion?"
Cal popped open the catch of his watch, not even seeing the faint white scar that ringed his wrist anymore, and put the item on his bedside table, checking his phone was there too and then putting out his light. He shifted down the bed to rest his head on his pillow and pulled the cover up to his chin, turning on his side to face his wife, who was waiting patiently, who knew better than demanding answers before he was ready because he tended towards whimsical responses designed to frustrate her.
"I think I tried to convey that some people believed in a god or gods but that I didn't."
"You think?"
"Trust me, that kind of convasation is really hard when you're havin' it with a five year old. Which means we should figa out what it is that we want to teach him. Cos I don't believe in a Christian god, nor any of the otha world religions but does that mean you don't? And what does that mean about what we're gonna tell him when he asks? Cos obviously he's askin'. His friend tells him there's a god. And I don't want to just decide what Lewis is gonna grow up believin' in; he should be able to make up his own mind right?"
Gillian placed a hand on the curve of his cheek, knowing instinctively where he was. "He's five. Doesn't he already believe what we tell him? Santa? The tooth fairy?"
Cal pouted a little, even though she couldn't see him; probably because she couldn't see him. "Isn't that different?"
"How?"
"Cos with religion it's like a dictataship of how you're meant to behave to get rewarded in the afta life."
"Ok I have two questions about that statement," Gillian told him softly. "The first is, how is that any different from being a good boy so Santa will bring him a present? And do you not believe there's a life after this one?"
"No I don't."
"At all?"
"No."
"Ok."
A pause.
"Then what do you think happens to us when we die?" Gillian asked curiously.
Cal shrugged, dislodging her hand from his cheek. She withdrew it. "We die and that's it."
"Then... what about your Mom and Dad? You think they're just in the ground?" She wasn't accusing, she was asking, trying to understand him.
Cal's eyes slid to the side a little, looking over her shoulder at the glow of the moon through the curtains, as he thought. "I guess. I mean, I don't think we're just a body. I think we have a soul but I don't think it goes up to heaven or hell or purgatory. I think it just goes into anotha body."
"Like reincarnation?"
"Yeah. Sort of I guess. But without that karma stuff."
"Ok," Gillian acknowledged and that was better to her than him thinking there was just a nothingness after the soul left the body. She felt sad if that was what he thought.
"Can't say I spend too much time thinkin' about this kind of thing Gill."
Gillian gave a slight nod of understanding that Cal could see now his eyes had adjusted. "What would you want to tell Lewis?"
"How do you explain the concept of religion and god to a five year old?" Cal repeated.
"What do you want him to believe in?" Gillian stressed.
Cal thought for a moment and brought his eyes back to the general shape of her head, knowing she was watching him. "Is there a particula reason why you've not given your opinion on this subject?"
Gillian gave the ghost of an amused smile to herself. "I wanted to hear what was in your head." He didn't always tell her and nor was it always very clear.
"What's in your head?" Cal gave a slightly defiant tilt of his head. "You told me you don't believe in god."
"No I don't particularly," Gillian answered slowly. "But I do believe in some greater power. I can't say I've spent much time thinking about it either. I was taught to merely deal with whatever was handed to me in life."
'And you've had your share to deal with,' Cal thought.
"I think we mostly agreed," Gillian went on. "About what we believe in. The question is what do we tell our children? What do we want them to believe in? And I'm not just talking about religion but morally as well."
"This is gettin' heavy," Cal almost sighed.
"You would have gone through this with Emily though," Gillian pointed out lightly.
"Well... not really. Zoe did most of the actual parentin'. By the time Em was old enough for those kinds of convasations I was..." He didn't finish but Gillian knew. He had checked out of his marriage and then Zoe left and he was off the hook with being a father too.
"This time then," Gillian suggested.
"All right," Cal agreed.
"I uh," Gillian hesitated a little. "I was doing some research when we were talking to Lewis about how babies are made." Cal gave a slightly amused chuckle; telling her he wasn't surprised she had bothered to look into the right way to talk to a child while also encouraging her to tell him what she had found. "We could look at it together."
"Sure," Cal agreed, knowing she meant in the morning, or the weekend.
"Just tips on how to broach a subject."
Cal nodded he was ok with that, his head rustling against the pillow case. His technique the first time had not been particularly effective and he knew enough this second time to trust in his wife's ideas. "What are our morals?"
Gillian was silent for a second. "I don't know. Don't kill anybody?"
"That's a good one," Cal agreed, the mood between them light again. "Don't do the dumb shit I did when I was a kid."
Gillian laughed. "That's a long list."
"Oi!"
She laughed again and leaned in to plant a kiss quickly on his nose. "Don't hurt people."
"Yes."
"Or yourself."
"Yes. That's a good one."
"I want our kids to be able to come to us and talk to us about something, no matter what it is, and for that to be true. My Mom always said it to me but it was never true. If I dared to ask her why Dad drank or didn't love us she would get upset and tell me not to ask the difficult questions."
Cal gave a nod. "I'd agree with that one. My Mum was the same. So was my Dad."
Gillian nodded this time and felt the need to touch him. She slid a hand along the mattress to find his arm. He shifted his hand within hers, linking their pinkies. "No matter what they ask?"
"Yeah," Cal agreed softly. "Even if it's tough."
"It will be tough," Gillian mused and Cal wondered what she was thinking about specifically. There really was so much.
"I want our boys to be in the right place to find love."
Cal felt his wife suddenly tense, even though it was subtle, which meant she had been surprised by his comment. She didn't have to ask what he meant because Cal went on anyway. "I think we can't be with the person who's the most right for us, the same person you love more than anythin' else in the world, unless we are... in the right place." Cal gave a little wince. "Did that make sense?"
"Maybe," Gillian hedged.
"I mean, when you met me, I was a mess and my life was a mess and then watchin' you I wanted to be betta, a betta man, and finally, when I got there, you and I could be togetha cos we were in the same place at the same time."
"Emotionally?"
"Yeah emotionally but also... mentally and spiritually," here, he winced again because a part of him was using Gillian's concept and it didn't entirely sit comfortably for him. Spirituality. Well, technically, he was saying the same thing as she was. He had grown. Inside. As a person. His soul?
Gillian reached out with her other hand to brush against his cheek, shifting closer to him so she could feel the warmth of him on the bed sheet. "You're so... sweet sometimes."
"Just sometimes?"
"Well, you are Cal Lightman after all."
Cal laughed, surprised and impressed and pleased that she felt she could tease him like that in the midst of this. He shifted forward abruptly and captured her mouth with his own; a hot, wet kiss. When he shifted back again he could hear her breathing was that little bit more pronounced.
"I wanted to give you everythin," Cal went on.
"You have," Gillian murmured.
"I want our boys to find someone they love as much as I love you and I want them to be the best men that they can be because then they'll be happy."
Gillian leaned forward to kiss him again. "I want that for our boys too."