"Hey," Mr Rae looked up from his newspaper and took a sip from his favourite coffee cup, a gift Vanessa had presented to him on Father's Day when she was seven. The motto "#1 Dad" was scrolled across the yellow ceramic in chipping crayola script. The glasses perched on the edge of his nose made him look wiser. "where've you been?"

Vanessa, who was sore and still bleeding a little from her very recent disagreement with the rail at the skatepark, tried not to wince as she slipped into the kitchen and propped her skateboard (a gift, of sorts, from Steven) against the wall. Her father, golden eyes narrowed, looked from the skateboard to Vanessa and took in every inch of her appearance. His lips were pursed.

"New skateboard, I see."

"Yeah," Vanessa confirmed with a stiff nod of her head. It hurt to move it. The place where her skull had connected with the railing throbbed painfully. "Steven gave it to me."

"Did he now?" Mr. Rae folded his newspaper.

Vanessa swore inwardly. Of course he knew better than that.

If there was ever a person that could intimidate Vanessa enough into keeping her mouth shut, it was her father. Growing up within the confines of his watchful and ever present, though occasionally overbearing and controlling, love had made her into a well rounded girl. She was well-adjusted, but temperamental, and had thoroughly learned and absorbed all three of her father's most basic rules.

"1. Family is important; respect me, respect your brother, and respect yourself."

"2. Be good to people, but don't go anywhere with a stranger."

"3. For the love of God, never play with matches."

Vanessa sighed and her shoulders sagged. She loved him, really she did, but he could be so annoying sometimes.

"Steven gave me his skateboard because he broke mine," Vanessa explained in that dull, irritating whine of a voice all parents have had to listen to if their child's ever felt inconvenienced.

"I wish that he hadn't.""

"Dad," Vanessa grumbled, voice low and full of warning, "I told you-

"Told me what, Vanessa Alicia?" her father stood up from the table and, leaning with his back against the fridge, looked down at her with a cool, imposing expression on his handsome face. He crossed his arms over his chest.

Vanessa blanched and immediately changed her tone of voice into a more respectful one, "Dad, I know that I look a little beat up right now, but its not my fault- I was distracted by this boy."

This was not what Mr. Rae had been expecting to hear. Surprise flashed across his face. He knew how old Vanessa was, and he knew that hanging out at the skatepark meant she spent a lot of time surrounded by boys, but it still stunned him to hear that she'd actually been distracted by one. His face returned to its authoritative parental mask, but inside something inside of him squirmed uncomfortably. He hadn't yet spoken to her about the birds and the bees and, while he was certain that his baby girl had some idea about what it all, he was not looking forward to the conversation.

"What do you mean you were distracted by a boy?" Mr. Rae couldn't keep his voice from sounding strained.

Vanessa burst out laughing. "Not like that, dad. I just didn't see him there. He surprised me. So- I fell."

"Oh," Mr. Rae said. His posture relaxed, and the knot of panic that'd been steadily twisting in his abdomen untied itself.

"Yeah," Vanessa tried to smile at him and, scooting passed, downplayed her injuries, "Its no big deal. I'll just have John Jr pour some iodine on these scrapes and I'll be good to go."

"Wait," Mr. Rae stopped Vanessa with a gentle hand on her shoulder. He locked eyes with his daughter. "Why don't you just wear the helmet? I can live if you disregard the shin pads, and the elbow pads and everything else… but, Vanessa-

"Dad-

"Just wear the ******** helmet." Mr. Rae ordered with a protective squeeze of her shoulder. Then he let her go and Vanessa, rolling her eyes at him and laughing his concern away, disappeared down the hallway. The sound of the foul word in her father's voice played over and over again in her head. As a general rule, Mr. Rae didn't swear very often. He thought it was a sign of a stunted vocabulary, of a lack of an education. She knew these things and, so, the truth of what he'd said struck a powerful cord.

Resolving to do the smart thing from there on out and just wear the stupid helmet, Vanessa opened John Jr's door with an exasperated sigh and peeked inside. The little boy was stretched out on his stomach on the floor, working on a giant puzzle. His tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated.

"John Jr?"

"Yeah?"

"Feel like getting in some practice for that doctor school you'll be going to? I got some blood and guts for you to look at."

Well, actually, there were no guts; just some blood and torn flesh and a couple of stones inside. It wasn't anything a pair of tweezers, some disinfectant and a couple of band-aids couldn't take care of. John Jr was just the boy for the job.

He grinned at her, dark eyes twinkling, and jumped up from his puzzle. "Oh, let me see!"