A/N: I have... a surprise for you this chapt. #throwbacktuesday #IKnowThat'sNotAThing #ohwell

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Chapter Eighteen: Parents

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Melanie:

My baby girl likely touched her boyfriend's penis today.

I need a really stiff drink.

I haven't... talked to her about it.

I feel as though I should, but I'm not sure what I would even say. We certainly haven't been talking to each other very much about dating, about sex.

It's disheartening that she doesn't want to come to me to talk about these things but at the same time, I completely understand why she think I'd... disapprove, perhaps.

I've having a bit of a crisis of conscience about it, I suppose.

Alison, we need to go for
dinner sometime this week
I need to figure out this whole...
teen sex thing

Don't even REMIND me, Mel.
My daughter is a nymphomanic
She's almost as bad as you

Oh shut up
That's... very concerning

They're just at that age, you know?
I find that if you're less strict about it,
they confide in you much more easily
I mean, she isn't gonna stop having sex
any time soon, but if I give her freedom,
she feels... empowered to make safer choices?
Trust me I read whole entire books about it

Shit okay wow
I need to talk to her...
What should I say?

Is she having sex already?
Damn. They grow up so fast

Ikr. It's... hard. But no,
third base apparently
God it's been so long since
I've even thought of the bases
3rd is like handjobs and oral rt?

Lol yeah Mel.
You sure u have a 20yr old son?

Don't talk to me about Darcy,
he's on his own planet.

He's corrupting my daughter

She's driving him to drink

Lol oh my God we're crazy.
It's an easier convo to have in
person. Except I'm w the kids rn,
wanna do a dinner date this week?

Yeah I'd love that. Tuesday?

Perfect. In the mean time just...
Be nice to her about it. Don't make her
feel ashamed. It's normal, yk?
I mean damn, I was sixteen my first time

I was almost eighteen my first time

Yeah well you made up for the lost
couple years, that's for sure

Oh those were the days
The thought of her having sex
actually gives me palpitations

Grow up, mother hen
Birds and the bees, c'est la vie
As long as they're being safe?
And Luke is a very sweet boy.
And, uh, if he's anything like his dad...

Don't say it, you hoe
Twenty plus yrs later and
I still can't believe it

You're just jealous you didn't
hit that when you had the chance

It's a good thing, otherwise this whole
situation would be so incestuous

Well my point was that, Luke's
a good kid, and he cares for Fee
There are definitely much worse
ways for your daughter to explore
her sexuality.
I mean, think about it. She could
end up with a brat like Darcy

Oh hush.
Darce reminds me of Dylan, actually
We have a deal where he promises
to be safe and I promise not to ask
for details about his... escapades
Kids these days

Kids are the absolute worst
Ugh srry gtg, see you Tues

Kk see you

I put my phone down beside my bed and make the decision to grow a pair.

It's nearly ten PM. I was gonna call it a night but I suppose I should go talk to my daughter.

Softly, I rap on her door. Our rule since she started high-school was lights and technology out by eleven on school nights.

Is that too strict?

I didn't think so. Sleep is so important at their age. And she hasn't complained but... now I wonder...

"Yeah?" Ophelia calls.

I push open her door to find her in her pajamas beneath the covers with a book in hand, her cell-phone sitting on the duvet in front of her.

"Hey, pumpkin. Can I come in for a sec?" I give her a smile, hoping to look as least threatening as possible.

She blushes. Oh, baby. She must think I'm here to lecture her about what she doesn't know I know happened today.

Thank goodness Dylan, Vic, Gavin and I have an... understanding when it comes to informing each other of the big milestones in our children's relationship. At least this way I know so I can talk to her about it.

"What's up, Mom?"

She puts her book down and I take a peak at the cover. The Scarlett Letter. Mm, she does love her classics.

"Just wanna chat, sweetheart. I promise you aren't in any trouble."

Her shoulders slump in relief. I come to sit at the edge of her bed, settling beside her thighs. Oh, my sweet girl. I take a good long look at her and notice, with renewed appreciation, how beautiful she's become.

That Luke is a very lucky boy.

I give her delicate hand a soft, reassuring squeeze.

"Oh," she breathes, studying my face, looking sheepish. "Uncle Dylan... told you, didn't he?"

I give her a weak smile and a small wink. "You know how scary I can be."

She giggles. "Yeah, okay, Mom." Her expression sobers and her lips purse a little, and she looks embarrassed.

"Don't be embarrassed, honey. You don't need to be ashamed about anything. This stuff... happens, right?"

She looks surprised for a sec before offering me a hint of that bright, effervescent smile of hers. "I just... don't want you to... you know." Her voices drops to a whisper. "Be disappointed or something."

I swear my heart nearly breaks into two. "Oh, baby. I could never be disappointed in you." I lean forward so I can stroke a crooked finger across the plump, soft flesh of her cheek. "Don't ever think that. I'm just your mom and so of course I worry about you growing up so fast, but that's... a me problem, not a you problem, you know?"

Slowly she nods. "You don't need to worry about me, Mom. I'm being... smart and safe, like you said."

"Good. I trust you to make safe choices for yourself. I just wanna make sure that you know that you can come and ask me, if you ever have any questions. I know..." I give her a wry smile, "It's probably really mortifying to talk to your mom about sex stuff but..." I shrug, wrinkle my nose playfully at her. "I know all about that stuff, so..."

She laughs and shakes her head. "Gross, Mom."

"I'm serious! I've been told I'm very good, so..."

That achieved the desired effect because she squeezes her eyes shut and claps her hands over her ears and squeals, her cheeks turning pink. "Oh my God, Mom. I really don't need to know about how good Dad thinks you are in bed..."

And then we're both laughing and whatever awkwardness there was before has dissipated.

"So... third base, huh?"

She blushes and nods, biting her bottom lip, and I can see from the dark, faraway look in her eye that she's thinking about whatever happened between her and Luke. Oh, I'm sure that same expression used to be painted across my own face many times in the past.

I lower my voice to a quiet, confiding volume and ask, "So was it... good?"

She stifles a giggle with the palm of her hand and rolls her eyes at me and then finally replies, "It was... perfect."

Perfect, huh?

My first hand-job could hard be described as perfect.

"Aw. I'm glad." And then my lips curve up conspiratorially and I say, "Is Luke being good to you? Because if not, I'll have to castrate Uncle Dylan and..."

"Do you guys like... have a crush on each other or something?" she teases.

Damn, now it's my turn to blush. I give her arm a playful thwack. "You're so bad. I do like to give him a hard time though, don't I?"

"Mhm. It's like how pre-schoolers show their affection for one another."

Oh, she's being so nasty. I can't help but laugh. "Ha ha."

After some more quiet laughter she eventually asks, "Mom? How old were you... your first time?"

Somehow I'm surprised this question hasn't been asked already. "I was eighteen, pumpkin. Summer after I graduated high-school. It was... well, to be honest, there was nothing special about it. I think I just wanted to get it out of the way before I got to university, even if that's a pretty crappy reason."

"Did you love him? Whoever he was?"

"No, sweetheart. The only guy I ever fell in love with was your daddy. And so I married him, and we had two beautiful children who keep making me feel very old..."

Ophelia rests a comforting hand on my forearm and gives me a bright smile. "That's really cute, actually. And you're not old." A shrug. "Maybe a little old, but, you know..."

"I think I should go before you make me cry," I joke dryly. I stand up and lean down to tuck the blankets around her, give her a strong hug. Shoot, I can still remember when she was just a toddler throwing those chubby little arms around my shoulders.

Maybe I really am gonna cry.

"Night, pumpkin. Love you."

"Night, Mom. Love you too."

I close the door behind me on my way out, a bittersweet smile on my face as I make my way into my bedroom, into the walk-in closet to slip into my pyjamas.

Gavin's laying on top of the covers, propped up against the headboard in blue-and-red striped cotton pants and a navy t-shirt.

He has his reading-glasses on as he peers down at the pages of the book in his hand, and as I come to lay beside him, he pulls the glasses off and shuts his book, places them onto the side-table.

Gently, he tugs me close to him with a tired groan and I give his chest a gentle pat. "Did you talk to her?" he asks, his voice rumbling against my temple.

"Yeah. I think we're all good."

"Good." A dry chuckle. "Damn, I feel old."

"Ugh, I know." I can't help the small laugh that falls from my mouth. "Third base. Do you even remember when you made it to third base the first time? I honestly don't."

He shifts a little so I can rest my head in his shoulder, so he can wind an arm around my waist as we sit up against the pillows, our legs brushing together.

Even after nearly twenty-four years, my husband smells the same.

"Uh... I think I was like, fourteen or something stupid like that."

I snort. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Don't act all innocent," he teases, skimming a hand across the top of my knee and up to the middle of my thigh, his fingers scraping my skin and pushing at the white fabric of my nightdress. "You're not exactly the poster-child for chastity, Collins. No wonder your daughter is getting into so much trouble."

I feel an oh-so-familiar rush of heat between my legs at the sensation of his warm, rough palm against the skin of my thighs. "Obviously," I whisper against his neck, my lips grazing his pulse, "She gets it from your side of the family."

"Oh yeah?"

Slowly, our hands start wandering. I scrape my fingertips over the salt-and-pepper bristles coating his jaw and guide our mouths together, kissing him slowly, unhurriedly.

These days when we make love to each other, it's hardly frantic or urgent or feverish as back in the day, but I can't say I mind.

I realize that it's definitely started to take us... longer, over the years, to get ourselves ready. So we kiss for long minutes as his well-worn hand travels between my legs, into my panties, to gently, teasingly stroke the flesh at the centre of me. And I'm very thorough, very tender, as I slip my hand beneath his pyjama pants, pleased that he doesn't wear underwear to bed, and squeeze my fingers around his shaft, rub and massage his sac, knead him until he's hard and pulsing against my palm and we're both grasping for each other.

He rests me onto my back, my head against the pillow, presses a hot, wet kiss to my neck, uses his practiced, loving fingers to slide my dress over my head and then helps me as I rid him of his clothing, too.

Our bodies have undoubtedly changed over the years. But the sound of our combined, relieved exhale when he rocks himself into me is the same, and the way I sigh his name is the same, and the way he strokes a large palm through my hair, caresses the side of my faces, whispers his love for me against my breasts is the same.

When we're done, holding each other beneath the sheets, too lazy to flick the lights out, I admit, "She has our genes, Gavin. I really shouldn't be surprised."

"Mm." A gruff hum of agreement. "Good thing that means she has your brains too, right?"

"I think you're right, Mr. Stone."

"I don't know why you'd ever doubt it, Ms. Collins."

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A/N:

I really did not expect that to get me so emotional but I swear there were tears streaming down my face.

Melvin is just... sigh.

XOXO Ami

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