“What happened then?”
“I screamed, and Dad heard me. Ray and some of the other guys too. They all came running over and Dad looked like he was going to pass out. It was so scary to see him looking that way, but he picked me up and told me to stay calm and brought me to the emergency room.”
“Why didn’t Ray’s wife tell me what happened?”
It killed me to know all that time Bettina was suffering in the hospital, I was home thinking mean thoughts about her. Dancing at the wedding.
“I made her swear she wouldn’t. I asked Ray if Diane would deliver the flowers for me and promise not to say what happened.”
“Why, Bettina? You’re a crazy stubborn girl.”
“I didn’t want you to come to me out of guilt. I wanted you to give me a second chance because you heard me ask for it out of my own mouth. But not for this reason. I don’t even know if you’re here to give me a second chance now, or maybe you’re just here because you feel sorry for me.”
I thought about it for a second. I did feel sorry for her, of course. Who wouldn’t? She looked so pale and small in that bed with the sheet pulled up almost to her neck. But that’s not why I was there, was it?
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you once since that last day I was at the Ranch,” I said. “Not once. I would’ve come back to you. Maybe it would’ve taken me a month to come around to it, but I would’ve come back. This just sped up my feelings. Put everything in perspective.”
“Do you forgive me?” Her eyes were wide and pleading.
The door opened, and a woman in a long white jacket walked in. Her tag said S. Yelavich, MD.
“I’m Dr. Yelavich,” she said. “Miss Diaz, how are you feeling?”
“Better now,” Bettina said.
Dr. Yelavich looked at the monitors, picked up a chart at the foot of Bettina’s bed, looked at that and scribbled a few things down.
“You were an unlucky girl, weren’t you?” she said. “About twenty-five percent of rattlesnake bites are what we call dry bites in which no venom is released. But you got a good dose of venom. The young ones tend to be less disciplined about releasing.”
She pulled down the bedsheet, giving me my first glimpse of Bettina’s arm. It was so swollen and red it looked like it might explode. I drew in a sharp breath and hoped Bettina didn’t notice.
“The hand is where we usually see bites on humans for obvious reasons,” Dr. Yelavich went on in that dry tone doctors have like nothing fazes them. “On dogs, it’s the nose. Or so I’ve been told. Any racing heart, dizziness, nausea, metallic taste?”
“Not anymore,” Bettina said.
“Okay, you’re doing very well considering what you’ve been through. We’re going to release you tomorrow and send you home with instructions. The main thing is to keep an eye on the swelling and call us if anything changes for the worse.”
“I will.”
The doctor looked over at me as though noticing me for the first time. “Visiting hours are over,” she said. “The nurse will be by in a bit.” And then she was gone.
Bettina and I looked at each other. I sure as hell didn’t want to leave but I could hear the nurse in the hallway and I knew she’d be coming in soon.
“So,” Bettina said, “do you forgive me?”
“I forgive you,” I said. “Do you forgive me?”
“For what?”
“For abandoning you. For not finishing the snake fence.”
Bettina rolled her eyes. “Carlos finished the snake fence. The snake was probably there all along. Life’s never a hundred percent safe, you know?”
“Can I see you tomorrow?”
“I guess I’ll be home for a while, so you can see me whenever you want.”
“When do you want?”
“Tomorrow. Today. Right now.”
“When you’re better, I want you to come meet my family, okay?”
“I’d like that,” she said. “Really. A lot.”
“These are screenshots from Instagram” I said, handing her my phone. “I wanted you to see what people are saying.” I’d deleted the first post that called her The Beast. She didn’t need to see that one.
Bettina scrolled through the images one by one, her expression never changing. “It isn’t necessary for you to show me these,” she said.
“I just . . . ”
“Thought it would make me feel better? I told you, it doesn’t matter. I already know I did the right thing.”
“Sorry, then.”
I must have looked pretty pathetic because she handed me back my phone and looked up at me in that straightforward way of hers. “You know what?” she said. “It does make me feel better. It’s going to make the school year a whole lot more pleasant.”
“Bettina?”
“Yeah?
“That last day . . . I’d planned a surprise lunch for us, but nothing went according to plan. I was going to ask if you wanted to keep seeing me. You know . . . hang out.”
We heard the nurse talking to the patient in the next room. It seemed like she’d be in to check on Bettina next. Our time was running out.
“This would be the part where you kiss me.” She tilted her head back, eyes closed, lips puckered, and I thought about the first time I’d seen her in that position at the side of the pool. That day, it had almost seemed like she’d been poised to kiss the sun. But it was me she wanted now. It was me she was finally asking for.
“There you go again,” I said. “No filter. I was just about to do that.”
It was one of those mysteries of life, the way opening your heart to a girl also opens your eyes to her beauty. But there she was, in a ratty old hospital gown, green under the fluorescent lights, and her afflicted arm resembling a fat pink sausage—but to me she looked just like Sleeping Beauty.
“And there you go—always having to have the last word.”
She reached up, wrapped her good hand around the back of my head, and brought my face down to hers. And what resulted was a first kiss that wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was quite spectacular. That kiss told me everything I needed to know in just one moment of bliss.
First and foremost, it confirmed Bettina and I were now solidly together in happily-ever-after land.
Second, it proved Papa was wrong. The LeFrancois family wasn’t unlucky in life but lucky in love. Because if you were lucky in love, you sure as hell were lucky in life.
And finally, it taught me something about the very nature of being alive—a pretty hefty accomplishment for just the pressing together of two sets of lips. What I learned during that kiss and all the moments leading up to it is a truth I’ll never forget. There’s a little bit of beast in every person. And in every beast, there’s a human heart with a story of how it got to that place. A story waiting to be changed with understanding. A story waiting to be changed with just a kiss.
Acknowledgments
I’m so grateful to Amberjack Publishing for allowing Beau and Bett’s story to be told. Cherrita Lee, we’ve been through a lot, and I consider you a great friend and keen observer of life and people. Dayna Anderson and Cassandra Farrin, thank you guys for your tireless efforts on my behalf.
One of the great perks of being an author has been the friendships I’ve made along the way—author friends who, like me, are always thinking about that next plot point or character weakness or just dreaming up a way to describe a sunset that’s never been done before. There are too many of you to name but I’d like to mention a few who have been part of my daily (or at least weekly) life for years. Thank you Agathe, Christy, Grace, Kristy, Lisa, Macy, Megan, Melissa, Suellen, Vera, and Vicky. Writing can be a lonely undertaking and your friendships have stood the test of time and have been such an enormous gift to me.
Dr. Sofie Y, thanks for being my emergency on-call physician. What would Bett have done without you?
To the Diaz family, you guys are an inspiration in every way.
And thank you to Greyson Berla for all the smiles and giggles.
Beau and Bett Page 17