Skwisgaar ran his hand through his hair and then closed his eyes, shrugging languidly, murmuring again, this time in his own language, "Teach him how to play cello. Or teach him not to be like me. You have far more love and joy and inspiration in you than I have lost. What matters is that you'll be there for him, and that's what counts. You're a good person, Miniver. You aren't good to me, but you're good."
His fingers played silently against Miniver's leg, since it was right there. "Stop pretending you ain't going to does a great job at beings some sort of great person in his lifes. You been doing good around de little version of dat guy, right? Your nephew?"