An early May Saturday morning found the Busby-Mount house in a serene state. All the windows were open, letting in cool air and the scent of early-blooming lilacs. The only sounds were the wind rustling the freshly unfurled tree leaves, and the soft tone of Ray Charles echoing around the house.

Patsy dozed lightly in a reclining chair after getting home at four in the morning from a delivery. As she did this, she marveled at Delia's mood, which she managed to gauge by the music she was listening to. Delia was a music nut. She knew Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" like the back of her hand, as well as Led Zeppelin's fifth album, "Houses of the Holy". She would belt out Cage the Elephant before humming the tune to Tommy Dorsey's "Song of India".

All in all, she was a nerd.

But, she was Patsy's nerd.

And as Patsy slipped in and out of consciousness, she was lulled by the sound of Delia starting the washing machine as she softly sang along with Ray Charles, obviously in a cleaning mood. All was in its place, all was perfect, and all was at peace.

Well, until…

"ELIZABETH. MARIE. BUSBY. MOUNT."

Patsy jerked up with a jolt, disoriented and still half-asleep. Delia wasn't normally a shouter; she hardly ever raised her voice, even when mad. In fact, she was normally the calmer of the two. Normally.

Bewildered, Patsy sat up and tried to ponder what on earth could possibly be wrong before placing herself in the direct line of fire. She was about to draw a blank when a movement on the stairwell caught her attention.

Her thirteen year-old daughter, Ellie, gazed warily back at her as she sat perched on the top of the stairwell. Mother and daughter stared at each other in silence, both in extreme confusion and vague panic. It was at times like these that Patsy felt a strange sense of comradery with her daughter; because now they shared an equal amount of fright and confusion.

'What did you do?' Patsy silently mouthed to her daughter. The situation had a strange hilarity about it, but at the time, neither was aware of it.

'I don't know', Ellie responded, panic spreading across her face.

Patsy opened her mouth to say something else, but broke off when the dreaded sound of Delia marching towards the living room cut her off. With a scurry of movement, Ellie ascended back up the stairs, probably posting herself just beyond the line of sight. Delia entered the living room, looking like a storm of rage. She clutched a wad of bedsheets in her hands.

"Deels?" Patsy asked tentatively. Delia rounded on her wife.

"Patience," Delia thundered, whipping out her full name, "do you know what your daughter did?!"

Disgruntled, Patsy said, "I…uh…no, I do not."

Delia lowered her voice and whispered through clenched teeth, "There is blood on these sheets!"

It took a moment for Patsy to register what that meant.

"…oh…" Patsy said, eyes widening.

"Oh," Delia echoed, suddenly looking defeated, "…why didn't she tell us?"

Patsy stood, shaking the rest of her sleep away before calling softly, "Ellie, get down here."

There was a moment of silence before their daughter cautiously slunk down the stairs, looking both frightened and guilty.

"Why didn't you tell either of us that you started your period?" Patsy asked bluntly, crossing her arms. She was sleep-deprived and wasn't in the mood to beat around the bush.

Ellie looked down and kicked at the ground as she muttered, "I knew you would freak out."

Silence fell between the trio, Delia gaping at their daughter, looking as if she was going to cry, blow a gasket, or both. And then…

"Patsy, go get The Book," Delia said in a dark tone. It was Patsy's turn to gaze incredulously at her wife.

"Deels, she's only thirteen-" Patsy stammered, though she soon regretted muttering the statement. If looks could kill, Patsy would have been incinerated.

"…and I am getting the book," Patsy placated hurriedly, heading towards their bedroom.

The family of three sat out on the patio, giving Patsy a chance to smoke a rare cigarette to calm her nerves, albeit in vain. The Book in question lay open on the table, to a rather scandalous page depicting and comparing both the female and male reproductive anatomy. Patsy found it in her closet, on the top shelf, under a thick layer of dust. It was a college textbook, one she used while training for midwifery.

As soon as it was plopped in front of Ellie, the girl recoiled.

"No, no, no, we are NOT having this conversation," Ellie exclaimed mutinously, slinking down, almost under the table.

"Yes, we are," Delia responded sternly, turning to said page. Repulsed, Ellie forced her gaze away and crossed her arms.

"Ellie," Patsy intervened, drawing her attention in a soft voice, "We can either have this conversation now, get it over with, or you could be having this conversation a few years from now, with someone else." The cloaked threat took a moment to sink in.

And without further ado, Patsy and Delia began explaining the birds and the bees.

"Why do…I mean… why do I need to know that?" Ellie queried, a long hour later. They had discussed at length, menstruation, ovulation, sex, fertilization, and pregnancy. They had now moved on to contraception, and the topic was how to properly put on condoms.

Patsy let out a sigh, snubbing out her fifth cigarette as she gathered her thoughts. Delia sat across from her, pen and paper in hand, where she had roughly sketched the application process on a male appendage.

"To begin with, your school will not teach you this," Patsy said, letting irritation seep into her voice, "They will teach you abstinence, not actual contraception. We don't want you getting the wrong idea about sexual intercourse." Ellie's face contorted into confusion at this vague statement.

"What your mum is trying to say, Ellie," Delia intervened, "is that the school with try to give you the wrong idea, because they don't want you having sex in the first place. But in doing so, they fail to teach you the necessary means of contraception. By under-educating you, you might try having sex without fully understanding what you are doing, or what you can do to prevent an unplanned pregnancy. We are showing you how to put a condom on because your partner might not know how to properly put one on. We are trying to prepare you for decisions like these, because we know we will not be involved in these situations."

"…but what's the 'wrong idea' about sex?" Ellie asked, with a blush, having never undergone a school sex-education class.

Patsy and Delia shared a dark look. Patsy decided to take a stab at it.

"We are not saying we want you to have sex…well, at least, not now. Your body is physically not ready. Not only that, but you would be taking a lot of risks. However, your mam and I are not going to pretend that you won't want to try it when you get older. We want you to be able to be comfortable with whatever decision you make, and part of that is giving you the knowledge of what you are doing. Your school believes that it is best if you abstain completely from sex, so they don't teach you contraception, thinking that it will give you ideas. They won't acknowledge that sex is just as emotional as it is physical; they make it sound bad or dirty. They will tell you how groping or any other form of sex apart from vaginal is wrong. We don't want that for you. You have to know that we trust you to make the right choices, and that we will support you, whatever happens."

For a while the only sound was Patsy lighting another cigarette and birds chirping. Somewhere, someone was mowing their lawn. Ellie fidgeted in her chair, staring blankly at her hands as she absorbed Patsy's speech. Sensing the end of the conversation, Delia gathered up the book and closed it, hiding its shocking contents from view. Standing up, Delia addressed the two of them.

"Pats, why don't you take Ellie to the store and pick out some pads for her…I doubt we have much left and I don't think she should be experimenting with tampons right now." Patsy nodded, cigarette hanging loosely from her lips.

"C'mom, let's go," Patsy said, standing.

Ellie went to follow her through the patio doors, before Delia called after her.

"Hey, Ellie."

Ellie turned around to face her Welsh mother.

The brunette winked and cracked a smile before saying, "Welcome to womanhood."

From inside the house, the two heard Patsy's snort of laughter.