Spindle Wood (COMPLETED)

Chapter 8

Remus stared very intently at his nearly 5 year old nephew. Well, not really his nephew. Pat pushed his glasses up his nose and rested his chin on the back of his hands.

"You're gonna lose." Remus said.

"As if." Pat settled his head lower on his hands so he was staring slightly upwards at Remus. Remus tilted his head to the side.

"I could do this all day."

"Same hewe." Disproving his point, Pat blinked. Remus barked out a laugh and smacked his hand on the table.

"Ha! I win!" Remus declared triumphantly. Pat groaned.

"How do you always win?" He asked. Remus shrugged and bounded up.

"Anyway, no going outside today."

"Not fair!" Pat protested, jumping off his chair. "I wanna go walking!"

"Maybe later, when Virge or Ro are back." Remus said. "It's not safe alone. Anyway, baking." Pat's face lit up. "And reading." Pat's smile fell.

"I don't wanna wead!" Pat whined.

"Tough. You've got to read the recipe to me." Remus said, flicking through the cook book. He pointed at one. "What d'you think of this?"

"I can't see." Pat pointed out.

"Good point." Remus picked Pat up around his waist - the four year old let out a surprised shriek - and set him on the counter. "Thoughts?"

"A Swiss woll?" Pat asked. "What's that?"

"It's like a cake but all rolled up." Remus explained. "And it's roll. R-R-Roll. Like the elephant tusks."

Pat rolled his eyes and put his hands by his mouth, pointing out. "W-R-W-Woll." He said, pushing his hands out with every 'w'.

"We'll get there." Remus grinned down at Pat and ruffled his curls. "Good job, kid."

Pat grinned. "What do we need to do?" He asked, looking around the book. Remus shrugged.

"You're the one with the recipe, kid." Remus plonked his elbows on the counter and leaned his head in his hands. "Read it to me."

Pat sighed and looked at the book. "75g of self-waising flour." He read out slowly, following the line along with his finger. "2 eggs. 75g of su.. su-gaw?"

"Sugar." Remus said.

"But it's not 'sh'." Pat said. Remus shrugged.

"Words are weird like that." He said, turning away from the 4 year old to grab the sugar and flour from the cupboard.

"Uncle Wemus?"

"Hm?"

"Why'we we making a cake?" Pat asked, crossing his legs.

"Because a little birdie told me it was someone's fifth birthday tomorrow." Remus looked around at Pat. Pat's face had split into a wide grin, all sunshine and the sort of innocent that all human children had.

"Now," Remus set the flour and sugar down on the counter and heaved Pat off it, "why don't you make yourself something with Virge's spare fabric?"

"You're sure Papa won't mind?" Pat asked. Remus nodded.

"Besides, if he does, you can just blame me." Remus gave the 4 year old a wink. Pat giggled.

"Okay." He grinned and ran off. He got to the bottom step and stopped. "Hey, uncle Wemus?"

"Hm?"

"Why don't I look like Papa or Dada?" Pat asked. Remus nearly dropped the sugar. "In the books Dada weads, the kids always look like their dads and mums. I don't look like either of them."

"Um..." Remus stared at Pat. "Look, kid, I'm not a genius on these things." He said. "And it's not really a question I have... an answer to."

"But you know everything." Pat said. Remus scoffed.

"Yeah, who told you that?"

"You did." Pat said candidly.

"Oh." Remus was (probably) saved by the door opening and Roman rushing in.

"Dada!" Pat yelled excitedly. He lept up and attacked Roman in a hug, nearly toppling him over. Roman laughed and picked Pat up.

"Hey, little man!" He hugged Pat tightly. "How're you doin'?"

"Uncle Wemus' making me my cake for tomorrow!" Pat said excitedly. Roman looked at Remus in mock-reprimand.

"Re, I thought we were keeping that a secret." He said. Remus shrugged.

"Eh, can't keep anything from the kid, me." Remus said with a grin. Roman set Pat down.

"Story, story, story!" Pat insisted excitedly, jumping up and down.

"Let me put my stuff down first, little man." Roman said, shaking off his coat. "Go and pick a book. I'll be up in five."

Pat nodded and ran upstairs. Remus watched him go before lowering his voice. "He asked why he didn't look like you and Virgil today." He said.

Roman looked up from unlacing his boots. "And?"

Remus shrugged. "I didn't have an answer." He admitted. "I agree with Virgil, honestly. How're we gonna explain this to him? 15 years felt like so long but... now we've only got 11 and I'm getting worried, Ro."

"11 years pass like centuries for humans, don't worry." Roman assured. "Besides," he set his shoes by the door, "we'll explain. Soon."

"But when?" Remus asked. Roman hesitated for a beat too long before answering.

"When he's older."

I feel like I'm rushing this. Does this feel rushed to you?
Bye,
Blaize