Claire squealed and threw her bucket at Quil's knees. "Down, down!"
He set her carefully on her feet and she ran to me. She wrapped her arms around my leg.
"UncaJay!"
"How's it going, Claire?"
She giggled. "Qwil aaaaawl wet now."
"I can see that. Where's your mama?"
"Gone, gone, gone," Claire sang, "Cwaire pway wid Qwil aaaawl day. Cwaire nebber gowin home." She let go of me and ran to Quil. He scooped her up and slung her onto his shoulders.
"Sounds like somebody's hit the terrible twos."
"Threes actually," Quil corrected. "You missed the party. Princess theme. She made me wear a crown, and then Emily suggested they all try out her new play makeup on me."
"Wow, I'm really sorry I wasn't around to see that."
"Don't worry, Emily has pictures. Actually, I look pretty hot."
"You're such a patsy."
Quil shrugged. "Claire had a great time. That was the point."
I rolled my eyes. It was hard being around imprinted people. No matter what stage they were in - about
to tie the knot like Sam or just a much-abused nanny like Quil - the peace and certainty they always radiated was downright puke-inducing.
Claire squealed on his shoulders and pointed at the ground. "Pity wock, Qwil! For me, for me!"
"Which one, kiddo? The red one?"
"No wed!"
Quil dropped to his knees - Claire screamed and pulled his hair like a horse's reigns.
"This blue one?"
"No, no, no...," the little girl sang, thrilled with her new game.
The weird part was, Quil was having just as much fun as she was. He didn't have that face on that so many of the tourist dads and moms were wearing - the when-is-nap-time? face. You never saw a real parent so jazzed to play whatever stupid kiddie sport their rugrat could think up. I'd seen Quil play peekaboo for an hour straight without getting bored.
And I couldn't even make fun of him for it - I envied him too much.
Though I did think it sucked that he had a good fourteen years of monkitude ahead of him until Claire was his age - for Quil, at least, it was a good thing werewolves didn't get older. But even all that time didn't seem to bother him much.
"Quil, you ever think about dating?" I asked.
"Huh?"
"No, no yewwo!" Claire crowed.
"You know. A real girl. I mean, just for now, right? On your nights off babysitting duty."
Quil stared at me, his mouth hanging open.
"Pity wock! Pity wock!" Claire screamed when he didn't offer her another choice. She smacked him on the head with her little fist.
"Sorry, Claire-bear. How about this pretty purple one?"
"No," she giggled. "No poopoh."
"Give me a clue. I'm begging, kid."
Claire thought it over. "Gween," she finally said.
Quil stared at the rocks, studying them. He picked four rocks in different shades of green, and offered them to her.
"Did I get it?'7
"Yay!"
"Which one?"
Vlaaaaw/obdem!!"
She cupped her hands and he poured the small rocks into them. She laughed and immediately clunked him on the head with them. He winced theatrically and then got to his feet and started walking back up toward the parking lot. Probably worried about her getting cold in her wet clothes. He was worse than any paranoid, overprotective mother.
"Sorry if I was being pushy before, man, about the girl thing," I said.
"Naw, that's cool," Quil said. "It kind of took me by surprise is all. I hadn't thought about it."
"I bet she'd understand. You know, when she's grown up. She wouldn't get mad that you had a life while she was in diapers."
"No, I know. I'm sure she'd understand that."
He didn't say anything else.
"But you won't do that, will you?" I guessed.
"I can't see it," he said in a low voice. "I can't imagine. I just don't... see anyone that way. I don't notice girls anymore, you know. I don't see their faces."
"Put that together with the tiara and makeup, and maybe Claire will have a different kind of competition to worry about."
Quil laughed and made kissing noises at me. "You available this Friday, Jacob?"
"You wish," I said, and then I made a face. "Yeah, guess I am, though."
He hesitated a second and then said, "You ever think about dating?"
I sighed. Guess I'd opened myself up for that one.
"You know, Jake, maybe you should think about getting a life."
He didn't say it like a joke. His voice was sympathetic. That made it worse.
"I don't see them, either, Quil. I don't see their faces."