Page 65 of Pulled By the Tail
“I’d make some thinly veiled comment about family vigor and tenacity, but why bother? Self-flattery is so vulgar.”
“But you love it.”
He grinned. “I adore it and I adore you.”
She sat up straight in the chair, easing herself back.
“Not like that.” He waved a hand. “You stink of Talen. While it’s nice you smell like family, you also smell a bit too much like my brother. My admiration is strictly chaste.”
“Pro-tip, don’t go telling ladies that they stink. It’s like you have zero people skills.” She took another piece of the offered fruit, juice dripping down her fingers.
“May I touch your abdomen?”
She wiped her hand on her pants. “Okay, but don’t make it weird.”
“An uncle cannot express interest or joy in a kit?”
“That’s what I’m talking about. That’s making it weird.”
He grinned and crouched down beside her chair. Cautiously, he placed a hand on her belly, over the sweater. He leaned in, much as Talen did the first night, and pressed his face to the knit fabric. “Hello, kit. I am your uncle and I cannot wait to meet you.”
Georgia balled up her hands, resisting the urge to place a hand on Quil’s head. For a moment, she believed she fell through some portal into an alternate dimension. This was what she had wanted months ago, Quil at her stomach, cooing to her unborn baby. This could have been their baby, their life, but Quil fucked it up, and everything about it felt wrong, like trying to shove her feet into too-small shoes.
“I don’t like you,” she said.
His tail thumped against the chair and her leg. “Despite your bitter exterior, I like you.”
“I’m serious. If we were married, if we had stayed married, I don’t think we’d have gotten along.” So much of his irreverent, self-aggrandizing personality rubbed her the wrong way. He was tolerable as an acquaintance, but he grated on her nerves. “We’d make each other crazy.”
“And not in a good way,” he said.
“No, so that’s why I’m glad you fucked everything up, Quil. Thank you.”
He buried his face into her soft belly, hiding his pleased grin. After a moment, he stood. “I still think Tranquility is an admirable name, and a fine expression of your thanks.”
“Oh, fuck off,” she replied, grinning. “I haven’t even thought of baby names.”
“Would you consider family names? We’ve had an Evanescence in nearly every generation.”
“No, absolutely not.”
“Discretion? I believe we had a great aunt who caused quite the scandal—”
“I think baby names is something I should discuss with Talen, not the crazy uncle.”
He nodded. “I will send you a list. See? I am already very helpful. I will be a good uncle.”
Georgia had no doubt in her mind that he’d be the fun uncle.
“Is he trying to convince you to name the kit after himself?” Talen asked, ascending the stairs.
“He’s giving me horrible suggestions so that Tranquility sounds like a good idea,” she answered.
“And human names are better? Mildred. Sound mildewy. Bob.” Quil over-pronounced it, sound popping on the B. “That is not a name. That is a motion. I will help. You’ll love my name suggestions. Just wait and see.”
“What doyou know of thezasten?”
“A coming of age ritual to mark the transition from youth to adulthood,” Georgia said, reciting the words she memorized that afternoon.
