My father proved himself in time to my grandparents. The tension that had been there seemed to ebb away even as he volunteered to help around their house.
And he was clearly fascinated with me, playing and measuring me against what I was the previous week.
Amusingly enough, he was even keeping a journal, annotating each new experience that I offered.
"I'm seriously beginning to think you're treating her like a science experiment," Grandpa noted as I perched in his arms.
I was strong enough now to hold up my head and I was peering towards my father with interest.
I even got to see my dad blush. "Er, yes and no."
"Yes and no?"
"It's not that I'm treating her like she's just an experiment. I don't know anything about babies and… it helps me understand her better."
I smiled, having finally developed enough coordination to do so a few weeks back. "Honestly,
I can't imagine being without her anymore." He paused. "Well, I could, but… I don't think I've regretted it yet."
I turned to pat at Grandpa's face, the look of vague amusement mixed with annoyance funny to me.
"The point where you don't think you can do it anymore, let us know." Dad looked a bit stricken but then nodded his head slowly.
"I won't ever shirk my responsibility. You don't have to worry about that."
"I didn't say that. I said if you can't handle it, let us know. She's our granddaughter. And she's precious to us, too.
We want her safe and happy." Dad hummed noncommittally but eventually nodded.
I shifted and stretched an arm his direction, offering the best grunts I could offer. He willingly took me and I happily curled into his arms.
Okay, maybe I was spoiled but I could hardly be faulted for it.
"What are your plans for the future?" The question surprised me and I looked up at Dad. He seemed pensive. "I doubt you wish to remain as you are right now."
"No, I don't," agreed Dad. "I do want to become an alchemist and help people. The only problem with it is that I don't know how long it would take or what kind of money I can make to support myself and Dawn."
I decided it would be absolutely worth it to grab at his nose. Thus ensued a grabbing, reaching game that involved me grabbing and him trying to stop me.
I grinned, way too toothless for anything but flashing gums, and he frowned. Grandpa watched this, naturally.
"Stop, Xiao-Hua," Dad complained. I paused, confused. The hell did he just call me? Shao-hoo-ha?
"What does that mean?" Thank goodness.
"It means Little Flower in Xingese." The hell was 'singeese'? Was that like 'Siamese'? "My mother called me her little king when…"
He broke off, the meaning obvious. "Wang Shao… because my first name means 'king'. And I know a little Xingese and I know what Xiao-Hua means so… For her middle name."
"Little flower… I think it's fitting." I turned and saw Grandma there. She was smiling oddly, lost in thought.
"It's longer than her actual name, but it is special." She looked at Grandpa. "A father should have nicknames for his children."
Grandpa smiled at the fact that I'd managed to wrangle Dad's nose with one hand, thumb helpfully up one nostril. It was gross. It was also humorous to see the absolute annoyance on Dad's face.
Babies were awesome when they weren't doorstops. They got away with everything.
Grandma saved him, by the way. He was too busy holding onto me as I pretty much gurgled at him in laughter. Not real laughter but gurgling.
I'd not gotten to the whole laughter part of things just yet. She gently pried my fingers away from Dad's face and lightly popped me on the hand.
It startled the baby instincts but I squashed the urge to cry. Grandma wasn't supposed to hit, according to the instincts.
I knew I'd eventually be punished but it didn't really stop me from looking at her reproachfully.
"No," she enunciated. I pouted. I could see she was amused but she repeated the word. "No. You don't grab people's noses."
'Just wait until I'm an adult, Grandma. Then you'll be wishing I was just grabbing noses,' I thought with a grin.
Grandma looked at me for a long moment. And then she sighed. "Dawn's going to be trouble."
"How can you tell?"
"She's smart," advised the woman. "You can see it in her eyes. She knew what she was doing."
"You're probably just making it up," dismissed Grandpa. "That girl's not planning dastardly things yet. She's not even teething."
"Abby didn't look like that at that age," disagreed Grandma. "She probably got that from him!" She jabbed a finger at my father who seemed amused, disturbed, and a little disgruntled.
"Thank you?" he hedged.
"Don't thank me when she starts getting her feet under her… or when she decides boys are worth looking after. I know what your aunt does, Roy, and she's going to pick some of that up."
Now, I'd not thought of it that way. Dad's aunt was a Madame. I'd learned that much in my short life.
The beautiful women were, in reality, a part of her upscale escort service with 'side benefits' depending on the price paid.
They were essentially pricey whores. It was obvious that Dad had some tendencies drummed into him by the way he flirted with the girls even if he didn't really mean it.
It was half-instinctive, flirting with women, and he enjoyed it because it was fun to make girls smile and flutter when he complimented them.
Not that he'd done it too much in my presence outside the shop's backroom (I wasn't allowed in the front room with the bar even if there was no one there) and kitchen.
The only place we had to just the two of us was his room. All other places were forbidden or public.