"Evenin'," Cal greeted Owen and Gillian, who were preparing dinner. Owen was at the sink peeling potatoes and Gillian was crumbing chicken thighs.

"Hi Dad," ten-year-old Owen responded, concentrating on his task.

Cal gave Gillian a kiss on the cheek, hand in the small of her back. She gave him a smile. "How was school?" He asked his youngest.

"Good," Owen looked up, blue eyes that beautiful shade of his mother's. His hair was still bright blonde, worse in the summer. "How was your school?"

Cal gave a grin. "Good. And you?" He turned to his wife, his hand still against her. He leaned against the bench next to where she was working, careful not to put his sleeve in flour or breadcrumbs.

"It was good thank you," she smiled again. "I need to talk to you about something," she added lightly.

"Go ahead," Cal inclined his head, curious.

'Alone,' she mouthed.

"How far away is dinna Wen?"

"Ages," Owen muttered.

"All right, then I'll go up and get changed," Cal informed them. "Where's the teenaga?"

"In his room," Gillian answered giving a funny roll of her eye to say she would be up in a second and he should wait for her in their room. Lewis was on table and dishes after dinner, while Owen helped cooked. Tomorrow they would swap.

Cal pushed away from the bench and headed up the stairs to the master bedroom. He kicked off his work shoes and started to loosen his tie. On Tuesday and Thursday afternoon's he took a lecture at George Washington University, Emily's old alma mata of all places, in body language and psychology; he was a Collegiate Professor. Gillian was at the practice Monday's, and half days Wednesday's and Thursday's. Owen played baseball and had practice, in the right season of course, on a Wednesday; in the winter it was basketball and practices were on a Thursday. Lewis played tennis, but that was only because Cal insisted he do something that required physical activity. Owen actually volunteered to play both his sports.

Cal was pulling on a t-shirt when Gillian entered. She gave him a once over then sat at the chest at the end of their bed, where the boys' cribs had once stood, so long ago now. "Well?" Cal prompted. "What's this thing you need to talk to me about?"

"Lewis has a girlfriend."

Cal gave her a surprised expression. "Really? Since when?"

"I don't know. She got off the bus with him today and he so casually introduced us. He's just like you..."

"Is she nice?" Cal cut her off approaching where she sat.

"I don't really know," Gillian hesitated. "I barely met her."

"What's her name then?"

"Hollie."

"Cute name," Cal noted.

"She was cute. Black hair, blue eyes, petite."

Cal watched his wife as she talked. It was hard to tell... "Are you all right with the fact Lewis has a girlfriend? Did he say she was his girlfriend?"

"Yes, he said 'Mum this is my girlfriend Hollie'."

"Right. And so you're...?" Cal searched her face, getting closer.

"It's... I mean he is fifteen," Gillian looked up at him.

"Yes," Cal agreed.

"I don't know. I just wonder sometimes what goes on with him. He always talks to you."

"Come on," Cal brought a hand to her neck.

"No I don't mean that," Gillian protested. "I just meant, this is the age where you start to lose your kids. They follow you around like little puppies and then they get older and suddenly you're not so cool to talk to anymore."

Oh ouch.

Cal pulled her against him. That was true actually. With Em it had happened so abruptly and Cal had always slightly been out of the loop because she was a girl. He'd been pretty good at keeping her at a distance, not realising how she was turning into her own person, not wanting to get to her know her as a little adult; she had only come back to him after she had left high school.

"We won't let that happen," Cal reassured her. "That hasn't happened. Maybe they just started goin' out. Maybe that's why you just met her. Maybe it wasn't a secret at all."

"Maybe."

"Besides," Cal went on, taking a seat next to her. "Maybe Lew just didn't know how to say it. He's the eldest, he doesn't have a reference point." He paused. "It's not like I'm bringin' home a string of women to introduce to him, show him how's it done."

Gillian gave a snort. "I should hope not."

"Who would want me at this age?"

"I want you," Gillian responded meekly. She paused. "Ok so you'll talk to him?"

"Huh?" Cal did a double take. "What am I talkin' to him about?"

"Hollie."

Cal drew away from her again. "What about Hollie?"

"You know," Gillian stared at him meaningfully.

"I don't. Spell it out."

"What they're up to."

"You want me to pry?"

"I want you to make sure they're being... safe."

"Safe?" Cal was feeling particularly dense. And then he clicked. He got to his feet. "You think they're?"

"I don't know."

"Geeze he's fifteen."

"Didn't stop you," Gillian shot back. "In fact, weren't you younger?"

"Yeah but," Cal went to their bedroom door and closed it. "I was different. Lew's not as..."

"Horny?"

"Mature," Cal finished with an embarrassed smirk at his wife's leering.

"Lewis is mature," Gillian countered.

"Yeah but not in that way," Cal crossed to stand in front of her again. The kid was still turning into a man.

"It wouldn't hurt," Gillian also stood. She had just turned sixty and her hair was streaked with silver, while Cal's was a light grey now. She was aging better than he was and he was jealous. "To maybe just talk to him about it."

"He knows all about sex," Cal countered. "We've talked about it."

"That was years ago, when he started going through puberty."

"We talked about condoms then too."

"Yeah well a refresher wouldn't hurt," Gillian told him pointedly.

"Fine," Cal sighed. "I'll talk to him."

"Let's do it now, Owen's going to put the potatoes on. The chicken's ready to go in the oven."

"Hold up," Cal caught her hand as she went to walk by. "You're not comin'."

She gave him started blue eyes. "Why not?"

"I'm not doin' it if you're listenin' in."

"Oh come on," Gillian gave him an unimpressed expression. "You're not going to say anything I don't already know. Right?"

"I might."

"What are you going to talk about?" Gillian gave a frown of curiosity.

"You want me to have a chat about girlfriends... I might impart some male wisdom that's just for the male species to know," Cal shot back.

"He's fifteen. Keep your male species corruption to yourself," she narrowed her eyes slightly and Cal fought back a grin. "And stop smirking about it."

"Stop pressurin' me," Cal whined.

"You're stalling."

"I've not done this before," Cal groused. "I'm nervous."

"You're such a baby."

"Why don't you do it then?" Cal shot back.

"Cos you're his father."

"Allegedly."

Gillian smacked his upper arm. "And it will be better coming from you. Considering you have a penis and I don't."

Cal bit back the smart-mouthed retort he had for that comment.

"Fine I'll leave you to it."

"Thank you," Cal responded with a tone that suggested he wasn't entirely happy with his win. He caught his wife's sleeve before she could get out of reach. "If I'm gonna do it then I wanna have a fatha-son chat about girlfriends and first time's and bein' safe and I'll tell you all about it tonight. Afta. All right?"

"That's fine," Gillian responded but her tone had lost its edge and her eyes had softened from their hardness.

Cal gave her a quick kiss. "All right." Then he strolled from the room.