Mike Youngblood walked into the living room and found his daughter standing with her eyes closed and her coat on, leaning against the closed door. "Everything okay, Pumpkin?"
Christy ignored the nickname. She was in too good a mood to argue over such trivia. "Mmmmm…fine, Dad," she murmured without opening her eyes. She sighed and took her coat off, hanging it neatly in the hall closet.
"I suppose you've been out with that wolf boy again," Mike stated flatly. It wasn't a question, so Christy didn't feel the need to answer. "If he does anything out of line, you just let me know." Okay, so now he was getting an answer whether he had requested it or not.
Christy looked at her father. "And what? You'll shoot him…again?" Mike had the good grace to blush. "Look, Dad, I happen to like him. A lot. His name is Seth Clearwater, not wolf boy, and he's never been anything but kind and gentle to me. So will you please stop with the innuendoes and snide remarks?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Please, Daddy?"
Mike mumbled something about "human boyfriend" and "come to your senses," then stomped off to his bedroom. Christy could hear the sound of some kind of game on the TV – football, soccer, basketball – all the same to her.
After washing her face and brushing her teeth, Christy pulled on a pair of flannel pants and a tee shirt. She crawled under the covers and closed her eyes, but her mind stubbornly refused to shut down. She tossed and turned, but all she could see behind her closed eyelids was Seth's handsome face. She'd waited so long, hoping that some day he'd notice her standing right there in front of him.
She finally allowed the memory of their first real date to play back in her mind. She'd known something was up when he came in that day for his coffee. He'd acted nervous, playing with the salt shaker as he waited for his regular order.
"Is there anything else?" she'd asked with a bright smile as she handed him the bag.
"Ummm, yeah, there's something I wanted to ask you, Christy," he mumbled. She leaned on the counter, mentally crossing her fingers. "There's a bonfire on the beach tonight, and I was wondering if you'd like to go…with me."
"Sure, Seth, that sounds like fun," she'd said, trying hard to sound nonchalant. But inside she was pumping her virtual fist in the air. Finally!
They'd had a great time, toasting marshmallows, dancing, and hanging out with some of his friends. She assumed most of them were members of the pack, but they considered her an outsider and weren't ready to share their secrets. When she and Seth walked up to the campfire, Quil had shouted "Hey, Seth! Who's the paleface?"
Christy flipped her heavy black braids in front of her shoulders and held out her hand. "Christy Youngblood. And you are…?" They'd all cracked up as Quil realized her Quileute pedigree was equal to his own. He shook her hand solemnly and mumbled "Quil Ateara. Sorry, Christy. Looks like I might be needing glasses." She grinned and kissed his cheek. Instant friends.
Embry, Jared, and their dates were nice too. Seth had explained to her about Quil and Claire; otherwise, she would have thought them an odd pair. Claire was a delightful child, even though she was a tad spoiled. She allowed Christy to toast a marshmallow for her, but she insisted that Quil blow on it to cool it before she popped it in her mouth. Paul and Rachel were a little distant, and Sam seemed to be joined at the hip to Emily. She couldn't help being a little annoyed by that, having heard about his history with Leah.
It was a lovely time, and the hours flew by. They sat by the fire and traded stories. Seth had them all in stitches when he told about walking in on Jake and Leah when they thought the house was empty. Everyone laughed but Sam.
Christy remembered walking home with Seth. It was a crisp fall day, and the night was chilly. She'd worn a heavy sweatshirt, but most of the guys were in short sleeves. He'd held her hand briefly, and she could still remember the natural warmth of his hand in hers.
She finally dozed off, only to wake up to the sound of the front door slamming before dawn. Mike had forgotten to set his alarm, so not only did he start his day without breakfast, but he was fifteen minutes late for work.
"Morning, Mike," Charlie called across the station. Mike shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the coat tree.
"Hey, Charlie," he replied sourly. "Sorry I'm late." Charlie raised an eyebrow, and Mike grumbled, "I didn't sleep well. Christy's been seeing a lot of your stepson lately, and frankly I'm not too happy about it."
Charlie motioned Mike into his office. "Why on earth not?" he asked with real confusion.
"Come on, Charlie. You know he's…different. And she won't listen to me. Got any fatherly advice?" he asked.
"Yeah, I do, but I doubt it's what you're hoping for," Charlie answered as he closed the door to his office and perched on the edge of his desk. "First of all, Christy is an adult and old enough to pick her own friends. I know that's not very comforting to you, but I think she's smart enough to know who's good for her and who's not."
"Secondly, I can't imagine what you have against Seth. I've seen him with Christy, and he treats her with nothing but kindness and respect. Is it his missing arm you have a problem with?" His eyes narrowed as he waited for an answer.
Mike squirmed under Charlie's gaze. "Well, that's part of it, of course. How can he lead a normal life with a handicap like that?"
Charlie stood. "Mike, I'd suggest you try getting to know him. He can do pretty much anything you and I can do, and you'd know that if you paid attention. You're entitled to your opinion, but if it involves Seth you can keep it out of my earshot in the future. He's a good man, and you could take a lesson from him about how to treat your daughter!"
Charlie made an obvious effort to lower his voice as he added, "There's a traffic light out at the corner by the school, and I'd like you to take a ride out there and keep the traffic flowing." He opened his office door in dismissal and returned to his desk, picking up the phone and punching buttons, ending their conversation.
Sue dropped her loaded laundry basket on the kitchen table and picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Hey, gorgeous," Charlie smiled at the sound of her voice. "You sound a little harried."
Sue dropped into a kitchen chair and crossed her legs, twirling the phone cord around her fingers. "Nope. Just on my way outside to hang some laundry. This is a pleasant surprise."
He could hear the smile in her voice. "I just forgot something this morning before I left for work. I forgot to tell you how much I love you."
"Well, isn't that nice? I'm glad you called to clear up any doubts I might have had," Sue teased. "You may have forgotten to tell me, but I think you made it abundantly clear this morning." His body stirred in response to her deep chuckle, even over the phone. "Is everything okay there, Charlie?"
He grinned. "You know me too well, Mrs. Swan," he replied. "I just needed some perspective, and talking to you never fails to cheer me up," he murmured into the phone. "It seems my new deputy is a wee bit shifter-phobic, and my conversation with him left a bad taste. Apparently, he doesn't know that I know that he knows…oh, never mind. I love you."
"Well, I hope your day improves from here. I love you too, Charlie." Sue stood and replaced the phone on the wall. She picked up her laundry basket and continued out into the yard, a slight frown etched on her features.
Sue heard the screen door bang and turned to see Seth, with Emmy in his arm, taking a seat on the porch swing. She finished hanging the clothes and propped the line up with a pole. Walking up the steps, she smiled at her children. "Anybody hungry?" she asked, scooping Emeline up in her arms and kissing her noisily as Emmy squealed.
"I gave Em some cereal," Seth answered. "But I could eat something."
Sue grinned. "I'll bet you could. I'll whip up some bacon and eggs for you if you'll get Emmy dressed."
Seth stretched out his arm to take his sister back. "You've got yourself a deal," he said with a smile. "Come on, munchkin." Emmy clung to his neck as he moved his arm under her, securing her to his hip. "After breakfast, maybe we'll go see Leah for a while."
"Woof!" Emmy yelled.
Seth laughed. "Can you say 'Tommy?'" he asked.
Emmy shook her head and repeated "Woof."
Seth looked at Sue. "I think Tommy's gonna be stuck with that nickname. Let's hope he doesn't mind!" He pulled Emmy's high chair up to the table and gave her some dry Cheerios while he ate his breakfast. Sue sat with them while she toyed with a cup of coffee.
"You seem to be seeing quite a lot of Christy lately," she said to Seth. "I don't mean to be nosy, but it's good to see you having fun again. She seems like a really sweet girl, Seth."
"She is, Mom," Seth readily agreed. "She knows my history with Paris, but for some reason she just won't seem to give up on me," he laughed, shaking his head.
Sue smiled, a little uneasily. "You know how I always say you can't get peaches from a pear tree, right? I just can't figure her father. How do you get along with him?"
"I pretty much ignore him, Mom. I won't treat him with disrespect – I've been taught better than that," he said thoughtfully, "but I don't have much use for him. We got off to a rocky start," he added evasively.
Emmy's patience was wearing thin. She'd had enough Cheerios, and a promise is a promise. "Sef!" she demanded his attention. "Lee, Woof!"
Seth chuckled as he carefully placed his plate in the sink. "Okay, pipsqueak, let's go." She held her arms out to him, squirming with excitement. Sue kissed her dark curls, then surprised Seth by standing on her toes and kissing his cheek.
"You're a good man, Seth, and I'm proud to call you my son."
He looked at her, his eyes narrowed. "Thanks, Mom. Is there something you're not telling me?"
"Of course there is," she answered softly. "Have fun, you two." And she turned her back to them, twisting on the hot water as she squeezed dish soap into the sink.
Seth hesitated at the door. "Mom…"
Sue made a shooing motion. "Go on. I've said too much already, honey. Give that baby a kiss for me." She refused to look at him and he sighed, knowing the subject was closed.