"I came from work and picked Spring up on the way. We just got..."

To Laurel, it didn't matter where we were, what I was wearing, or what planet I was on. I saw little eyes watching, as I headed to the opposite side of the counter.

"I didn't take you for a Gyro girl. You look like more of a Szechwan chicken girl."

"Sometimes I do both."

"Both?"

She whispered, "Yes, both."

"Both, yes." I checked the countertop for the corkscrew. "May I pour you some wine?"

The corkscrew was missing.

I checked where I thought I had put it, and then by the glasses. But with Laurel at my controls, it was possible that I had forgotten it altogether and I checked the drawer again. About the same time I completed the rotation, I saw a little hand reach onto the countertop and swipe the one remaining wineglass. I pointed to the little hand to show Laurel.

"I don't know where the corkscrew went... or the wineglasses. Did you see where I put them?"

"No," Laurel said, winking.

"Well, we could always go over to the squid place. They have great wine."

Giving Laurel the just a moment hand signal, I squatted down and padded to the other side of the kitchen.

"Pssst. Spring. What are you doing?"

"I don't like her," she said, attempting an unsuccessful whisper.

"Is everything all right down there?" Laurel said.

I popped my head up and then back down to Spring. "Yes, we're just having a little, well, discussion or something..." I looked at Spring. "Shhh. She's just a friend here to give me some company."

"What about me? I'm company."

"You're not company."

Spring frowned. "So, why can't Billie be company?" The fake nose and glasses made it difficult to know if Spring was serious.

"Is there anything I can do?" Laurel said.

I popped up again. "No, no. I'll be right back," I said before dropping down again.

"Billie's not coming over tonight because Laurel brought us dinner," I whispered. "She's being nice to us."

"I don't like... that chicken."

"When have you ever had chicken gyros?"

"Lots of times."

"Then I'll make you a hot dog."

"Are you sure I can't help? Laurel said, leaning down next to us.

"Spring and I were just discussing dinner. Weren't we, Spring?"

Laurel took my hand. "Why don't we go into the living room with the wine and the corkscrew and let little Spring play?"

With Laurel leading me away, Spring stuck out her tongue. Apparently, this was a mano-a-mano thing for women and it looked dangerous. As I removed the cork and poured the wine, I could feel a little pair of Groucho eyes watching me from under the furniture. Although I wanted to sit and talk with Laurel, if I didn't get Spring's hot dog started, she would continue to prowl.

"Excuse me, I need to make something else for Spring's dinner," I whispered to Laurel. "That should keep her occupied for a while."

"Okay. Hurry?"

"Spring, do you want to help me in the kitchen?"

"No," she said and walked over to Laurel.

"I love your glasses, Spring."

"I have another pair." She dug into her pocket and removed a second set of Groucho glasses. "Do you want to wear them?"

"No thanks. They clash with my outfit." Laurel leaned close to Spring and I could barely make out what she was whispering. It sounded like she wanted to impress me.

"Spring, your hot dog will be ready in a minute. Do you want a bun?"

She ignored me and understandably so. I was not qualified to understand what was going on here.

"Spring, I have some OJ for you."

Laurel leaned closer to Spring and whispered something else. Then she came into the kitchen with Spring at her heels.

"You forgot your wine, Dylan."

"Thanks."

She smiled at me.

"Spring, juice?"

Spring grabbed at the juice and sent it into Laurel's lap.

"Dylan! We have a spill. Towel?"

I turned around. "Juice or wine?"

"Juice!"

When I reached for the towel, I saw Spring bump into the wineglass sending it into Laurel's clothes.

"Now wine! Dylan!"

Laurel moved the glass and I began to blot her shirt. Then I noticed I wasn't really blotting her shirt, but her breasts instead. Although I hadn't meant to, it didn't really matter. I stopped blotting.

"Maybe I should just go."

"No, it's okay, stay."

"I'm sorry, Dylan."

"Please? It's early."

"I'm gonna leave. Where'd you put my coat?"

Laurel rushed out, as though she were a member of Jim's old profession. I was not looking forward to seeing her at the office tomorrow. As soon as she left, I realized how foolish the entire exercise had been. It was ludicrous for me to have someone like Laurel here especially on a transition day like this one. I took a deep breath and then turned to deal with Spring. "Spring, what was that all about?"

She was still wearing the fake nose and had that look that said you think I'm cute. "Knock, knock," she said.

"What?"

"Knock, knock."

I rolled my eyes. "Who's there."

"Billie."

"Billie who?"

"What do you mean 'Billie who?'" Billie was standing behind me and I jumped. "What's the matter? I was in the neighborhood and got here as fast as I could."

Now I was as confused as Billie.

"Spring called me. Said you needed help. Did it have something to do with a certain soggy sweater girl I passed in the hall?"

I looked at the miniature Groucho. "Spring?"

It didn't matter that she hadn't turned four yet, and it didn't matter if we ever figured out her birthday. I was still outplayed. The sooner I understood this as a fact, the better off I'd be. She wasn't a kid. She was a small woman in a kid suit, but a woman just the same. She had called Billie for backup, but had disposed of Laurel on her own.

"Why did you call Billie?"

"Is that Spring?" Billie said, looking down at her. "I didn't recognize her."

Spring removed the glasses. "Ta daa."

"He doesn't really need help, does he?"

Spring shook her head.

"She said she didn't like Laurel," Billie said to me.

"Hmmm. So you made her go away?"

Spring nodded, careful to watch me to see if I was about to get angry.

"How did you get Billie's number?"

"You always press #2."

"Spring, tell Billie you're sorry for making her come over."

Spring just stared.

"Tell her you're sorry. "

Spring stared at her empty cup of orange juice still lying on its side. "I'm sorry." she said and then began to cry. She reached to hug Billie's leg, which stunned me and I think caused Billie to age four years.

For the second time in five minutes, a child had shut me down. Had I been at the Magenta Martini, there would have been nothing anyone there could have said to make me feel worse. This was a major crash and burn, and I had been embarrassed in front of Laurel and now Billie, while making Spring cry again.

Yes, I looked like a fool, but that wasn't important. She was making it as clear to me as she possibly could that she wasn't ready for me to have lady friends over. Billie was different because Billie was somewhat familiar and we were just friends. Spring was making it very obvious that she needed me to be there for her. Her mother was dead and I was the only person in the world who really cared about her.

I was all she had and yet she cried on someone else's leg.

Chapter 12.

How's the Turkey?

Spring wasn't interested in the full bedtime treatment and agreed to wash extra hard tomorrow night. She passed on the story, the song and the animal noises. I set the glass of water on her bed stand. When I kissed her, I kissed the top of her head and not her little face, as I was still feeling guilty about everything that had happened earlier.

When I left Spring, I found Billie standing in the living room looking at the pictures of Diane. Her fingers traced the lines of the urn. When she discovered the top opened, she looked inside. I had done the same after bringing it home.

"Wine or scotch?" I said, pretending not to notice what she was doing.

"Scotch. Thanks. So what was up with the kid?"

I removed the Glenlivet and two rocks glasses, filling them halfway. We both drank our scotch straight up without ice.

"She went to daycare today for the first time since the accident. She seemed to be doing okay, but I know she misses her mom. I think that's why she called you. She misses having a woman in her life and Laurel is definitely not the woman she has in mind. Sorry she grabbed hold of your leg. I think the novelty of Dylan is wearing off."

"Hey, we all wear off eventually."

I sipped the scotch. "I always wait outside of her room after bedtime. She talks to Diane...tells her what happened. Tonight, she apologized."