Page 69 of The Fool

At first, he’s not even looking at me, he’s too busy laughing over his shoulder to see that it’s me, the girl he destroyed nearly ten years ago. When he finally sees me, he freezes, and all humor falls from his face. In fact, I couldn’t tell you what expression he’s wearing, though I probably look much the same. After all, this is the first time we’ve laid eyes on each other since he told me hated me, a week or so after he had fucked my sister.

Moments pass, with me trying to understand how I’m feeling. Anger and sadness soon rise to the surface. He’s managed to slip himself into my family while I stand here as the outsider. This man destroyed me and alienated me from the only people who were truly mine. And that’s what it boils down to; I have felt ostracized my whole life, but I always had my family. His answering the door, keeping me waiting on his say-so, proves that I don’t even have that anymore.

“Dean,” I eventually utter, trying my best to look as uninterested as I can. He looks me up and down, silently assessing me as the twenty-seven-year-old woman that I am now.

“Bea,” he replies, his voice making me bite down on the inside of my cheek.

When he says nothing else, I take it upon myself to step inside and walk past him. I hear him inhale deeply before closing the door, after which, I pace into the kitchen as fast as possible so I can avoid him altogether.

“Bea!” my mother squeals as soon as she sees me. She wraps me up in a mom cuddle, smelling of cooking ingredients and lavender soap. I hold her back just as tightly, feeling like I never want to let her go.

“It’s been so long, baby girl. Now, let me look at you, make sure Ben’s been taking care of you.”

She pulls away from me before looking me up and down, taking me in with her pensive frown and half a smile. Only once her eyes return to mine does she beam at me again, apparently happy with her findings.

“Beautiful Bea, just like when you were a baby,” she says, to which I roll my eyes over the story that I know is coming. “Thirty-six hours of labor, a dose of pethidine, and stitches to rival those of Frankenstein’s monster, but when you finally arrived with a cry loud enough to wake the entire ward, I knew you had to be called Beatrice, Shakespeare’s greatest heroine.”

“Mom!” I groan before noticing my now fully grown sister hovering by the doorway over my mother’s shoulder. She’s wrapped her arms around her waist and is looking at me with a sheepish smile. It’s enough to have me step outside of my mother’s arms and begin backing away from what I so dearly need.

“Er, where’s Dad?”

“Oh, he’s in the living room with your brother. He’s so excited to have you all here together, all under one roof, just as it should be,” she says with warmth in her eyes. She then turns so she is standing to the side of us, her eyes bouncing between Emma and me. “Well, aren’t you two girls going to say hello to one another?”

“Course, Mom,” Emma says before moving her eyes to stare at me. “Hi, Bea.”

“Hello, Emma,” I reply, trying but failing to sound anything other than cold.

“It’s really good to see you, it’s been so long,” she says with her foot shuffling around, as though she’s considering coming up to me.

“Has it?” I reply with bitterness.

“Beatrice, please,” Mother whispers at the same time as Emma drops her eyes to the floor.

“My apologies, you look good, Emma,” I reply with a tight-lipped smile, “but then, you always have. Excuse me, I’m going to go and see Dad.” I’m already walking away before I can see the disappointment in my mother’s eyes.

I’m trying, Mom, I really am, but it’s so hard to forgive and forget.

When Dad spies me shuffling through the door, all thoughts of Emma are wiped clean, for his smile is so wide and genuinely pleased to see me, I can’t help but fall into his bear-like embrace. Still a handsome man, he’s also tall and broad, just like his son.

The man has always been in love with my mother, from the very first day they met at high school; their relationship was once one that I craved for myself. I lost hope of ever having that when I realized their love was the exception to the norm. You can see his absolute adoration for her whenever he looks into her eyes, even when you spy them bickering with fond affection, it’s as obvious as the nose on your face. I couldn’t be happier for them, though I sometimes think they set me up to have expectations that could never be reached.

“Hey, lil’ girl, how’s my Bea?” he asks, looking over the top of his spectacles that have seen much better days.

“I’m ok, Dad, but when are you going to replace these things?” I tut as I point to the tape wrapped around one of the arms.

“What do you mean? They’re still good,” he huffs. “Anything can be fixed, no matter how broken it might seem.”

He looks at me pointedly, talking about more than just an ancient pair of glasses. I sigh at the same time as I step back, knowing that it’s already started - the guilt trip.

“Dad –"

“Just give them a chance, Bea, that’s all your mother and I are asking for,” he says before kissing the top of my head. I give him a small smile, conceding to his wishes, but only for his sake. My mother calls for him, so he squeezes my hand and heads for the door, walking out just as Ben saunters in to see me.

We don’t hug straight away, our argument before he left for long haul is still fresh in my mind. For the first time ever, we look a little awkward being in each other’s company. It’s deeply unsettling and painful to be like this with Ben, but after a moment or two, he grabs hold of my shoulders and wraps his big brother arms around me.

“Am I forgiven?” he asks before whispering in my ear, “I’ve got your back, sis.”

“For now,” I tell him, soon laughing when his sheepish smile morphs into a wide grin. “Thank God you’re here; I wanted to bolt when Dean answered the door. This is harder than I thought it would be, Ben.”

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