Chapter 16

The next morning, my eyes popped open and I immediately had a frightening thought: What if Mom and Dad got a divorce? Why hadn’t I been worried about that the night before? I had watched the two of them have sex with other people. True, I’d been a little preoccupied at the time, but the more I thought about it, the more I worried.

Did they not love each other any more? Hold on a second, I thought. The way they’d acted toward each other when they returned to the cabin had been normal, nothing out of the ordinary. How long had they been swinging? If it had been a while, why hadn’t they already gotten a divorce?

Were they just not happy with each other? No, I thought. I hadn’t noticed any change in their behavior. Maybe I’d been in my own little world a lot of the time, and maybe I was kind of dense sometimes, but I did pay attention to some things. Mom and Dad still seemed to love each other. And I knew they had sex, I’d even witnessed some of it.

So why did they have sex with other people? I thought I could answer that question for myself: variety. I knew from personal experience that women were different. Even one woman may be different from one time to the next. I liked having sex with Susan, but it was completely different from sex with Stacy. Sex with Amy had been different as well. I knew Gina would be the same way, different.

But did Mom and Dad still love each other? I thought about that question for a long time and finally came to the conclusion that they probably did. I still had no clue about how long they’d been swinging, but I was pretty sure that it hadn’t changed their relationship much. Unfortunately, I still had a niggling fear that they might not love each other anymore. Instead of dwelling on it, however, I turned my thoughts to something else.

If Gina had known about her parents, that would explain a lot about why she wasn’t jealous of Stacy or Susan. Susan! What had Kara said to Gina? “You know about Susan.” The significance of that statement had completely eluded me at the time. I’d simply thought Kara was telling Gina that I’d told the truth about having sex with Susan.

But that wasn’t what she had meant. Gina knew about Susan swinging with her parents. It was as simple as that. How? Once again, the answer was simple—Gina had been watching her parents. She’d known about my parents too, so she must have seen them with hers.

Or had she seen them with someone else? Who else could it be? I simply didn’t know. I felt kind of embarrassed, too. I hadn’t even noticed that my own parents were swinging, so how could I hope to figure out who else might be involved?

Note to self: Ask Susan about swingers.

As hard as I tried not to, I still worried about the possibility that my parents might get a divorce. I don’t know why, but I did. It was like a genie I’d let out of the bottle—once I started agonizing over it, I couldn’t stop. Why had I begun thinking about it at all?!

I wanted to talk to Mom, I decided. Normally, I would have talked to Susan, but I had a nagging suspicion she’d simply tell me to ask my mom. Besides, I guess I wanted to hear from Mom herself that she and Dad weren’t going to break up. But I’d never talked to her about something this serious before.

So, what was the problem with talking to Mom? I was a little nervous. How exactly do you start a conversation like that? Hi, Mom, are you and Dad going to get a divorce because you want to have sex with other people? No, I thought, definitely not the right opening line.

I also had to figure out where Gina and I could go for a little privacy. As I started to think about the problem, my mind thankfully drifted away from thoughts of my parents and divorce.

Where could Gina and I go? We could take a blanket and simply walk into the woods, but how romantic would that be? About as romantic as ubiquitous pine trees could get—in other words, hopelessly unmemorable. I thought of a few other places, but quickly dismissed them for one reason or another.

Since I was getting nowhere fast with any of my dilemmas, I decided to get up. Before I climbed down the ladder, I looked at my parents. They were spooned together and Dad had his arms around Mom, protecting her and holding her close. Even though she was asleep, I decided she looked happy. Were these two people on the verge of divorce? I sincerely hoped not.

While I was jumping rope after my workout, my mind wandered back to the divorce question. My parents were a team, and they had been as long as I could remember. They had arguments, just like any other couple, but Erin and I rarely saw them. And whenever they had to punish either of us—a thankfully rare occurrence—they both did it.

For instance, when I’d suggested my own weeklong early curfew, Dad hadn’t simply pronounced judgment, he said he’d discuss it with Mom. It was like that with everything.

When we were younger, Erin and I had even learned that we couldn’t use the “if it’s okay with your other parent, then it’s okay with me” ploy. Mom and Dad talked to each other about decisions they made, and I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been grounded because I tried to pit one of them against the other.

Both my sister and I had learned that lesson pretty quickly. Mom and Dad were a unit, and if we tried to manipulate either of them, we got punished. The punishments were always just—I reluctantly had to admit that they were fair—but they were always severe enough to be a deterrent. Pavlov would be very, very proud, I thought with a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Mom asked from the porch.

I almost tripped over my jump rope. (One of the reasons I really liked jumping rope is because it’s repetitive enough that I could think about things while I did it. The problem? Break your rhythm and you’re going to take a nose-dive.)

“Be careful, honey,” she said.

I stopped jumping and coiled the rope. “Yeah,” I said, panting from the exertion.

“So, what were you laughing about?”

“Oh, nothing much,” I half-lied. “I was just thinking about something I remember from Biology class.” Which was more or less true. I had learned about Pavlov in Biology.

“Oh?”

“It was funny, but it’d take a long time to explain.”

“Okay.”

I gathered my courage, shifting from foot to foot a little nervously. “Mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Um ... are Dad and Erin up yet?”

She nodded. “Your dad’s in the shower and Erin’s brushing her hair.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Is there something you need?”

I shook my head. I thought for a moment, changed my mind, then nodded. “Um...” I took a deep breath and steeled my nerves, wishing I could will my jittery stomach to relax. “Do you think we could ... I mean you and me ... um ... maybe...”

“Yes?”

“Maybe we could talk ... or something.”

“Sure. Now, or later?”

“Um ... whenever.”

“Now’s fine,” she said. “Just give me a minute.” Then she turned and headed back inside.

Relief washed over me like a cool rain. There, I thought. I’d said it. I’d asked. Whew!

A few moments later, I decided to follow her inside. Once there, I slipped off my workout shorts and dropped them in the hamper.

Dad came out of the bathroom, followed by Mom. He looked at me and smiled, but showed no sign that he knew what I’d asked Mom.

“I feel like pancakes this morning,” he said jovially. “Anybody else up for some banana pancakes?”

Erin piped up immediately. Banana pancakes were her favorite.

“Okay,” Dad said to her. “You wanna be my assistant?”

“Sure.”

“Breakfast in about half an hour?” Dad asked Mom.

She nodded.

“C’mon, kiddo,” Dad said to Erin.

She jumped up and the two of them headed out the door without a backward glance.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Mom turned to me. “Is everything okay?”

I nodded.

She waited patiently for me to speak.

“D’you mind if I shower first?” I asked. I was sweaty and a little rank, but I also hadn’t really figured out what I wanted to say.

“Go ahead. I’ll be here when you get done.”

I showered quickly, my body on autopilot. While I washed, my mind was working a million miles an hour. By the time I got out to dry off, I’d bolstered my courage and I was pretty sure I knew what I wanted to ask. When I emerged from the bathroom, Mom was folding towels. She looked up and smiled.

“Are you and Dad gonna get a divorce?” I blurted. What idiot had gotten control of my mouth? That was not the first question I’d planned to ask.

“Of course not, honey.” She gestured for me to sit next to her on the bed. “What makes you ask that?”

“I saw you last night.” Never in a million years had I planned to say that, either. Some imbecile was clearly using my voice, because I certainly wasn’t saying what I’d planned.

“When?”

How did she sound so calm, so collected? “When you were at Susan’s,” I said. What was I thinking?!

“Ah.”

Ah. Was that all she had to say?!

She turned toward me and put her hand on my thigh. “Did you understand what you saw?”

Duh. Of course I did. They were having sex. In a moment of lucidity, however, I realized that wasn’t what she was asking. I shook my head. Then I nodded. I started to shake my head again, but stopped, clearly confused. “I don’t know,” I said at last.

“That’s okay, honey. It’s all right not to understand.” She paused for a moment and then smiled. “Your dad and I love each other very much, and we’re not going to get a divorce. Not now, not ever.”

I nodded. It was the first thing I’d truly understood all morning.

“I’ve been wondering when I was going to get this question.”

“You have?”

“Mmm hmm. I thought you might’ve figured it out earlier, but you’ve been busy with your own life, haven’t you?”

I nodded.

“How did you see?” she asked calmly.

“We ... um ... I mean, I ... um...” I blushed furiously. Now I’d let the cat out of the bag—I’d said “we.” I mentally cursed myself.

“It’s okay. I’m not angry. I’m just curious.”

For a moment, I studied her face. She didn’t look angry. “I went looking for Susan,” I said at last. “When she didn’t answer the door, I thought she might be in her bedroom, so I went around to knock. I didn’t mean to spy on—”

“It’s okay, Paul. I understand.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mmm hmm. Very sure.”

“So ... why?” I asked.

“Why am I sure?” She took one look at my expression and shook her head. “Oh, why were we doing what we were doing?”

I nodded.

“Because it’s something your dad and I enjoy.”

“Having sex with other people?”

She nodded.

“Does that mean you don’t love each other any more?”

For a moment, she laughed brightly. Then she took one look at my face and quickly caught herself. “No,” she said seriously. “We love each other more than ever.”

“But you have sex with other people.”

“Mmm hmm. But your dad and I love each other very much. We have to, in order to have the kind of relationship we do.”

“Huh?”

“Think about it for a moment,” she said. “You know there’s a difference between love and sex.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“We love each other, Paul.”

“But you don’t like having sex with each other?”

She shook her head and tried not to chuckle. “We enjoy sex with each other. A lot.”

Was she blushing?

“But we also enjoy having sex with other couples.”

“Like the Coulters?”

“Mmm hmm. We trust them, and we enjoy their company.”

“Oh.”

“We also,” she said, “enjoy swinging with them.”

“Do you ... swing ... with just anyone?”

“No,” she said gently. “We’re very selective. Chris and Elizabeth are a lot like your dad and me.”

I nodded absently.

“They’re smart, healthy, clean, and attractive. So we enjoy swinging with them.”

“Oh.”

“And your dad and I don’t have sex with anyone if the other one doesn’t know about it.”

“But what about... ?” I worked my jaw soundlessly, panic gnawing at my belly.

She waited patiently for me to finish my question.

“What about... ?” I looked at her and gulped. “What about me? When we ... um ... I mean ... you know.”

“What we did was experimentation. There was nothing wrong with it, but we both know we can’t do it again.”

I swallowed hard and nodded.

“But if I’m going to be with another couple, if we’re swinging, then your father knows about it.”

“What about that night at Susan’s house?” I whispered hoarsely. “With Susan, Stacy, and me?”

“What about it?” she asked coolly.

“You were ... swinging. Right? Does Dad know?” I croaked. “Does he know about me?”

She shook her head. “He knows I was there with Susan and Stacy.”

“But not me?” Some of the tightness in my chest eased off, but not all of it.

“No, not you.” She smiled tenderly. “That’s between you and me.”

“And Susan and Stacy.”

“Mmm hmm. Do you trust Susan?”

I nodded.

“I trust her too. And Susan trusts Stacy, so I do too. Do you?”

I thought about it for a moment. I knew without a doubt that Stacy would never do anything to hurt me. “Yes,” I said evenly. “I trust her.”

“I know you do.” She looked at me seriously. “That night is the one time in all the years your dad and I have been married that I didn’t tell him the whole truth about one of my liaisons.”

“Is that what you call them?” I asked. “Liaisons.”

“Sometimes. Usually they’re just ‘get-togethers.’”

“Oh.”

“So your dad always knows about it when I’m with another couple. Normally, however, we’re there together.”

“Like last night?”

“Like last night,” she said.

“How long have you been ... um ... swinging with the Coulters?”

“Since we met them.”

I stared at her in shock. Gina’s family had been coming here when we first joined the camp, more than four years ago! “That long?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“How come I never figured it out?” I asked. I tried not to sound plaintive, but I don’t think I did that well.

“Well, honey, we’re pretty discreet.”

I nodded. “No kidding.”

“Although I thought you had it figured out last year,” she said.

“Huh?”

“You asked about swingers a couple of times, but neither Susan nor I would tell you anything. I thought you’d figured it out when you brought it up, but Susan didn’t think you had.”

“I hadn’t,” I said humbly.

“I know.”

“So why tell me the truth now?” I asked suddenly.

“It’d be hard to deny it after you saw us last night,” she said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, I guess so. Does Erin know?”

“No. I don’t think so. If she does, she’s been very circumspect about it.”

I nodded.

“Gina knows, though,” Mom said.

“Yeah, she was there with me—”

She smirked.

“Oh. Yeah. You probably already knew that.”

“You didn’t think I caught it when you said ‘we’ earlier, did you?”

I blushed and shook my head.

“Gina was with you, right?”

“More or less,” I said.

Mom arched an eyebrow at me inquisitively.

“I ... um ... I kinda found her there.”

“Yes, that makes sense.”

“It does?”

She nodded. “Gina enjoys voyeurism,” she said. “That’s what it’s called when you get excited watching other people.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t know she was there, though.”

“Hey,” I said suddenly. “How’d you know Gina’s a ... um... ?”

“Voyeur,” she said helpfully. “Well—”

“Her mother,” I said.

Mom nodded.

“You two talk a lot, don’t you?”

“Mmm hmm. Where our children are concerned, certainly.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

She merely smiled.

“While we’re on the subject... , “ I said. I tried not to blush, but my face and ears heated anyway.

“Yes?”

“Um ... well ... Gina and I kinda wanted to ... um ... maybe ... well, we wanted to maybe go somewhere today.”

“Oh?”

I looked up and nodded.

“And?”

“Well ... we were thinking ... um ... you know.”

“I do?” Her eyes sparkled mischievously.

Was she being obtuse on purpose? “Mom,” I said pleadingly. I even rolled my eyes for effect.

“I’m sorry, honey,” she said. “Sometimes I forget you’re no longer my little boy. I can’t resist teasing you, just a little bit.”

“I guess.”

“Are you and Gina ready to have sex?” she asked frankly.

I looked up sharply and blushed again.

“I take it that means yes?”

I nodded mutely.

“Well,” she said seriously, “I don’t think her mother will let her go anywhere today.”

“Why not?”

“She’s got to do the dishes today.”

“You know about that?” I asked.

Her look answered me better than any words could.

“Oh. Yeah. You and Elizabeth talk to each other.”

“Mmm hmm. And if Gina’s being punished, then her mom won’t let her trade off with one of her sisters.”

“Do you think her mom’ll let her go with me? Tomorrow, I mean? I don’t know where, but do you think she’ll let us go?”

Mom nodded thoughtfully. “It’s up to Chris and Elizabeth. And Gina, of course. But I think they’ll let you two go.”

“Okay.”

“So,” she mused, “were you going to ask your father and me about going?” She grinned archly. There was a teasing note in her voice, but her tone was still serious.

“I kinda just did, didn’t I?”

She laughed softly. “Fair enough.”

“So, will you let me go?”

“I’ll talk it over with your dad, but I don’t see any reason we’d say no.”

“Can I take the car?” I asked. I don’t know why I’d decided to go for broke, but I evidently had.

She grinned. “Oh, we can talk about that, if it’s not too far.”

“Well,” I said, suddenly a little morose. “I don’t have any idea where we’d go.”

“You should ask Susan,” she said. “She’ll know.”

“Yeah!”

Mom paused for a moment and then looked at me seriously. “Back to the original question.”

I nodded.

“Do you understand about your dad’s and my relationship?” she asked. “Maybe just a little bit better?”

“I think so.”

“Because we have sex with other people, selectively and discreetly, we have to be more secure in our marriage. Your dad and I love each other very much, and neither of us will let anyone or anything come between us.”

“Good.”

“When we’re with another couple, or another woman, it’s sex, and it’s fun. When your dad and I are together alone, it’s love, and it’s a much deeper connection than either of us has with anyone else. Do you understand?”

“Yeah. I guess I do.”

“Good. Sex is a big part of our lives for your dad and me. And it’ll be a big part of your life too. Love, however, is special. You can have sex with multiple partners, but you’ll only have a few true loves in your life.”

“Yeah.”

“Love is about commitment, trust, and respect,” she said. “Sex is about pleasure. Though it’s not really as simple as that.”

I nodded.

“Do you understand?”

“I think so.”

“Okay,” she said. “If you ever want some advice, get confused, or just want to talk, you know you can ask me anything. Right?”

“Obviously,” I said.

She grinned, and we stood up to go. I looked at my watch and realized we’d been talking for more than half an hour, although it hadn’t seemed like that long. We were going to be late to breakfast.

I was pretty sure I had everything sorted out, although it would take me a while to put it all in the proper perspective. I’d probably mentally repeat the entire conversation, a couple of times, but I was much happier than I’d been when I woke up. And much less worried, which was a very good thing.

“Susan owes me a quarter,” Mom said as we walked down the hill to the clubhouse.

Okay, now I’m confused again.

She quickly explained. “I’m sorry, Paul. I don’t want to make light of your questions, but Susan and I had a little bet.”

“A little bet?”

“Mmm hmm. I thought you’d ask me when you found out about our swinging, and she thought you’d ask her. So we bet a quarter.” She leaned close. “I think she was hoping to lose,” she said confidentially.

I merely stared at her, dumbfounded.

Mom thrust her arm through mine and laughed softly as we continued walking.

After the breakfast dishes were done, Gina came up to me wearing a sullen and apologetic look.

“Let me guess,” I said, preempting her. “Your mom won’t let you go anywhere, ‘cause you’ve got to do the dishes.”

“Yeah.”

I nodded in commiseration.

“Hey! How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Okay,” I said. “I kinda had a talk with my mom this morning.”

“About us?”

“Sorta,” I said, dissembling a bit.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I asked her if you and I could maybe go somewhere today, and she said she didn’t think your mom’d let you.”

She merely nodded.

“So,” I said, as brightly as I could. “We’ll go tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I guess.” She looked at me with a doleful expression.

I tried not to grin, but I couldn’t help myself. “Mom said I may be able to borrow the car,” I said softly.

Her eyes lit up at that. “Really?”

“Maybe,” I said. “She said it depends on where we go. So I kinda need to talk to Susan.”

“Susan?”

I nodded. “Who else would know all the romantic deflowering spots around here?”

She rolled her eyes and tried not to crack a smile. In the end, she did anyway. “When can you talk to Susan? Now? Soon?”

“Patience, grasshopper,” I said in my best Shaolin master voice.

“Unnnnh.”

“No whining,” I said gently, teasingly.

“Can’t we just slip away for a little while?”

I shook my head.

“Please?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because, I want to take longer than a little while.”

“I don’t,” she said in mock exasperation.

“Okay,” I said. “Why don’t you just hop up on one of these tables and I’ll go ahead and take care of you.”

She looked around quickly to see who might be watching.

I could almost see the wheels spinning in her mind. I burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” she asked indignantly.

“You.”

She looked sulky, so I simply bent forward, grabbed her around the waist, and threw her over my shoulder. She began to get angry, but her temper quickly cooled when she realized I was only playing around. I gave her a good, playful swat on the bottom—which elicited a gratifying shriek—and then carried her out the clubhouse door.

I walked toward the lake, chuckling to myself. At first, she struggled and squirmed, trying to get loose. Unfortunately for her, I was far stronger than she was. And I was far better trained. She wasn’t going to get loose until I decided to let her go. By the time we were looking down the hill at the lake, she decided to be nice and ask politely.

“Good God,” she said when I set her down. “I didn’t know I had Tarzan for a boyfriend.”

“Me like Jane,” I said, theatrically pounding my chest. “Ook ook.”

She smiled brightly.

I stepped close to her and pulled her into my arms.

“Does Tarzan have a banana for Jane?” she asked. “A long, stiff banana, full of hot—”

“Don’t get yourself too worked up,” I said with a grin.

“I’m trying to get you worked up.”

“It’s working.”

She stomped her foot in mock petulance. “Then how come you’re not doing anything about it?”

“I am,” I said innocently. “I’m going to go talk to Susan about where we can find a little privacy.”

“Oh. Now?”

I nodded. “I want to go ahead and figure out what we want to do, so we can make plans.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll meet you at the lake afterward?”

She nodded.

We kissed quickly and then separated. When she turned to walk down the hill, I started toward Susan’s.

Susan didn’t seem all that surprised to see me. Had she already talked to my mom? I wouldn’t put it past the two of them.

The day was heating up, but Susan’s shaded courtyard was still nice and cool. We put towels on the seats of the wrought-iron chairs and sipped lemonade as we talked.

What I hadn’t told Gina was that I also wanted to talk to Susan about the previous night. Talking with Mom had put a lot of my fears to rest, but I still had a few burning questions. And I had some emotions to work through. While I’d seen Susan with other women, and it hadn’t bothered me, the night before was the first time I’d ever seen her with another man. Curiously, it didn’t really bother me either.

“I’m sorry,” I said, flushing with embarrassment when I realized I’d been sitting and thinking for a couple of minutes.

She smiled patiently. “That’s okay, I could tell you were deep in thought.”

“Yeah.” I tried to decide how to start the conversation, or figure out what I wanted to know, but I drew a blank. Actually, that’s not strictly true. I had so many questions tumbling through my mind that I didn’t really know where to begin. Finally, I asked, “Have you talked to Mom this morning?”

Her eyebrows rose and she nodded, grinning.

“See? I’m learning.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Did y’all talk about... ?”

“About you?”

I smiled shyly and nodded.

“Mmm hmm. She said you and she had a good talk this morning.”

“Nothing more?” I asked.

“She said you might be stopping by to talk to me too.”

“Did she tell you what we talked about?”

“No. But I think I can make an educated guess.”

“She didn’t tell you what we talked about?” I asked, somewhat dubious.

She shook her head.

“Really?”

“Really,” she said. “We talk about you a lot, but we each keep some things private.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“Contrary to what you might think, your mom and I don’t tell each other everything that goes on with you.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“We talk a lot, because we both love you, but neither of us is an open conduit to the other. If you tell her something in confidence, I wouldn’t know about it. And there are a lot of things she doesn’t know about our relationship,” she said, indicating the two of us.

“Really?”

She nodded. “She can probably figure a few things out, but she doesn’t ask questions or anything like that.”

“Oh.”

“She respects your privacy,” Susan said with a smile. “And so do I.”

“I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“Mmm hmm.” She let the silence draw out for a few long moments. “So, to answer your question: yes, I’ve talked to your mom this morning, but no, I don’t know exactly what you two talked about. She just said I might get a visit from you. She also seemed very happy.”

“Happy?”

She nodded. “Did you realize that this is the first time you’ve talked to her about something really important, without her having to drag it out of you and before you talked to me about it?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Kinda.”

“That made her very happy.”

I smiled. Maybe it was silly, but it made me feel good that Mom was happy because of something I’d done. “Well,” I said, “you owe her a quarter.”

“I do, do I?” She laughed. “I thought I might.”

I nodded.

“Believe it or not,” I said, “I was coming to talk to you last night when I ... um ... when I saw you all.”

She seemed unfazed. “Through the sliding glass doors?”

I nodded.

“I suspected as much.”

“Oh?”

“You replaced the chair backward,” she said with a grin.

“Huh?”

“I went out to the patio this morning and three chairs were facing the table, one was facing away. I didn’t think much of it until your mom stopped by after breakfast. When she mentioned that you might be stopping by, I put two and two together.”

“Whoops,” I said apologetically.

She merely grinned.

“Sorry about that.”

“Are you sorry for replacing the chair backward, or sorry for watching through the glass?”

Panic suddenly grew within me, panic that she might be angry I’d been spying on her. “Um ... I didn’t mean to ... I mean, I never—”

“It’s okay, Paul,” she said soothingly. “I’m teasing you.”

I felt my face and neck heat up. Why did I have to blush so much?

She giggled.

“What?”

“You should see your face.”

I tried to look stricken.

She giggled again. “I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “I know how serious you are.”

“I guess.”

“Well, you can’t blame me. You are fun to tease, and you look so cute when you blush.”

“C’mon. Please?”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll stop.”

“Thanks.” Even with a tan, my face and neck must have been crimson.

She waited for me to regain my composure. After a few moments, she asked, “Was that what you wanted to talk about?”

Flustered, I’d forgotten everything else I wanted to ask her, so I latched onto the one thing I could remember. I shook my head. “I was hoping you could give me some advice.”

“Oh?”

I nodded. “Gina and I are ... um ... well ... you know...”

“Mmm hmm.”