{"id":763,"date":"2020-01-24T22:05:02","date_gmt":"2020-01-24T22:05:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.kathrynberlabooks.com\/?p=763"},"modified":"2020-01-24T22:05:02","modified_gmt":"2020-01-24T22:05:02","slug":"chapter-1-from-beau-bett","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.kathrynberlabooks.com\/index.php\/2020\/01\/24\/chapter-1-from-beau-bett\/","title":{"rendered":"Chapter 1 from Beau & Bett"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Chapter One <\/h2>\n\n\n\n

(Once\nUpon A Time)<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

For one very long second, I wanted to\nbelieve this was someone else\u2019s life\u2014anyone who wasn\u2019t named Beau LeFrancois.\nAnyone who wasn\u2019t me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pause\n. . . Rewind . . . Play . . .<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

It\u2019d been a long day at school, which was\nbasically every day and any day. When I walked through the front door, my house\nwas still the tiny, cramped, gloomy box it always was\u2014no magical genie had\ntransformed it into a palace while I was in class. Papa was sprawled out on the\nsofa like he always was, with one leg, plaster-casted from ankle to hip,\nresting on the sofa and the other leg slung over the side, foot planted firmly\non the ground. Pillows propped behind his back and underneath his broken arm\npositioned him in a half-sitting, twisted pose that looked uncomfortable, but\nat least allowed him to watch TV.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBeau, buddy,\u201d he said. \u201cDidn\u2019t know if I\nwas going to make it \u2019til you got home. Help me to the bathroom, would ya?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPapa, you can\u2019t hold it in all day, it\u2019s\nnot healthy. That\u2019s what the bottle\u2019s for.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHealthy shmealthy. I\u2019m not peein\u2019 in that\nthing like some kinda animal.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnimals don\u2019t pee in bottles.\u201d I shoved\naside a pillow and sat my butt down on the couch, taking his healthy arm and\npulling it across my shoulders. He still had a strong grip, and his fingers dug\ninto me as he swung that massive cast off the couch where it landed with a hard\nthud on the floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGarbage dump!\u201d His lips went purple with\npain, and the substitute curse words he used\u2014required by my mom\u2014did nothing to\nmask his frustration and anger at the pathetic situation. \u201cHoly fried apple\nchicken!\u201d The pain crept up his leg until it enveloped his entire face in a red\ncloud. \u201cGive me a minute.\u201d He took a few jagged, stuttering breaths before\nregaining his usual composure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid Angie call today?\u201d I asked, hoping\nmention of my older sister would steer his mind away from the misery of\nshattered bones.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After a few seconds, his breathing\nreturned to normal. \u201cYou betcha,\u201d he said, and he was Papa again. We heaved in\nunison to pull him up into a standing positon\u2014a move we were pretty good at\nafter so much practice. \u201cShe doin\u2019 good but she started in again with that\ncrazy talk about postponin\u2019 the wedding. I tole her not a chance. Tole her I\u2019m\ngonna dance with the bride.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We thumped our way toward the tiny\nbathroom off the hallway that led to the kitchen\u2014me, the human crutch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIn five weeks? I don\u2019t think so, Papa.\nMaybe a spin around the dance floor in your wheelchair if you\u2019re lucky.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Which of course made me think again about\nthe school dance this past weekend when Masie draped herself all over Ethan the\nGoose. And why should I care about that? But why<\/em> didn\u2019t matter since I did, and I was thinking about it the\nmoment the door burst open and the twins came in, fighting as usual over one of\ntheir mindlessly ridiculous and invented catastrophes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPoppy, Claude threw my math book in the\nbushes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid not,\u201d Claude said. \u201cDel spit water\nall over the back of my shirt.\u201d He peeled off his backpack, turning to display\nthe wet evidence of Del\u2019s crime.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But even before I had a chance to yell at\nthem, or Papa had a chance to empty his bladder, my mom walked through the door\nas white as a ghost in a snowstorm\u2014not that I\u2019ve ever seen a snowstorm or<\/em> a ghost. I steered Papa to line him\nup with the toilet and then gave him a nudge into the bathroom while I waited\noutside. There was no way he could fall in there with the bathroom being so\nsmall and a wall on either side just a few feet away from the throne. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCharles?\u201d she called out in a voice so\nshaky I wondered if I was going to have to keep her from falling over too.\n\u201cSomething terrible has happened.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But Papa couldn\u2019t hear her over the urgent\nstream that wouldn\u2019t\u2014couldn\u2019t\u2014stop, and his pleasurable moans of release.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat is it?\u201d I asked, ignoring the twins\nwho by then were bashing each other with pillows from the sofa. \u201cAre you okay?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Freeze\n. . . Rewind . . . Stop . . .<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Could this be someone else\u2019s life? Please?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Chapter One (Once Upon A Time) For one very long second, I wanted to believe this was someone else\u2019s life\u2014anyone who wasn\u2019t named Beau LeFrancois. Anyone who wasn\u2019t me. Pause . . . Rewind . . . Play . . . It\u2019d been a long day at school, which was basically every day and any…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynberlabooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/763"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynberlabooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynberlabooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynberlabooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynberlabooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=763"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynberlabooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/763\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":765,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynberlabooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/763\/revisions\/765"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynberlabooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=763"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynberlabooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=763"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kathrynberlabooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=763"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}