Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“From trash?” Gus said in wonder.
“Yeah. It’s basically like a giant stomach. Just like food breaks down in your stomach and creates gas, which expands your stomach, and the pressure makes you...um.”
He wasn’t sure what the proper word was for a kid.
She giggled. “Fart?! That’s why people fart?” She whirled around. “Daddy, that’s why people fart!?”
“I...to be honest, I didn’t know that, sweetie.” Adam looked to Wes. “Do you run your stove off this generator?”
“No, not the stove. That was just an example. I could. But this is an experiment.”
“Experiment in what?” Adam asked as Gus, apparently having lost interest in the biogas generator, said, “Can I hold that spider now, please?”
“Oops, we gotta go now,” Adam said instantly.
“Daddy’s very scared of spiders,” Gus whispered completely audibly. “But can I?”
Bettie was a sweet, shy creature who liked to crawl slowly around the perimeter of the house as if she were keeping watch. She didn’t like sudden movement or loud noises, and a child seemed a guarantor of both. Wes didn’t want to let Gus hold her.
But most children—most people—thought of tarantulas as terrifying, dangerous threats. The fact that Gus was interested in her rather than scared made him happy.
“If I let you hold her, you have to be very, very still,” Wes said seriously. “It tickles when she crawls, but you can’t jerk your hand back or scream or throw her.”
His heart began to pound at the idea of his sweet baby being squished or thrown by a careless hand.
“Maybe it’s not a good idea,” he said, reconsidering.
“I won’t,” Gus said solemnly. “I promise.”
Wes took a moment to plan precisely how he would swoop in and rescue Bettie at the first sign of trouble.
“Gosh, um,” Adam said weakly from the corner. “I’ll just...”
He began to edge toward the front door, shoulder blades glued to the wall. That was the typical response.
Wes went into the kitchen where he’d last seen Bettie. She was on the windowsill, looking regal in repose.
“Hi, baby,” he said softly, running a finger down her back. “You okay?”
Bettie crawled onto his hand, her body a velvet weight in his palm.
In the other room, Adam was almost to the front door. Even though Wes thought tarantulas were amazing and beautiful creatures, he did understand the fear of them was significant, and he didn’t want to upset Adam. He seemed like a sweet man. A caring, kind man. Even if he had pushed his way into Wes’ house.
So instead of holding his hand palm-up so Adam couldn’t help but see Bettie crawl, Wes angled his body between Adam and his lightly cupped hand.
“Oh, god,” Adam wheezed. “I’m so sorry, I just...ugh.”
“Oh, Daddy,” Gus said absently. Then, “Ooh, she’s so cool.”
The sound of a slamming door echoed through the house.
“Put your hand down on the table,” Wes said.
Gus put her hand down, palm-up, and Wes deposited Bettie a few inches away.
Bettie crept close, then felt Gus’ finger with her front legs. Gus’ eyes got wide.
“How old is she?”
“I’m not exactly sure. I’ve had her for about ten years. Females can live to be thirty or so, though.”
“Why’s her name Bettie?”
“Why is your name Gus?”
“It’s short for August.”
“It’s short for Elizabeth,” he retorted, which wasn’t true.
“But why?”
Wes stared and Gus stared right back. But she still didn’t move her hand, which Bettie was crawling onto.
Wes scrubbed a hand over his shorn hair. He didn’t care to untangle the serpentine path his brain had taken to associate the tarantula with Bettie Page, especially since an eight-year-old would surely have no idea who she was.
“She just,” he said slowly. “She looked like a Bettie.”
Gus nodded, accepting that answer.
For a while she observed Bettie closely, not seeming to see anything else.
“My mom named me August,” she said finally, stroking Bettie with a gentle finger. “Cuz I was born in August.”
“Your mom doesn’t live with you guys?” Wes heard himself ask.
He made it a habit not to initiate conversations, but the kid was already in his house, and he found himself oddly curious about Gus and Adam Mills.
Gus shook her head.
“I never lived with her. Daddy took me right after I was born. My mom is Daddy’s sister, but we’re not friends. She lives in Cheyenne, but I don’t see her. I’m friends with River, though. River’s Daddy’s other sibling. Daddy says River’s a literal angel. They watch me after school now that we don’t live at home anymore.”
Wes smiled at literal angel.
“Where’s home?”
“Where we used to live in Colorado. With Daddy and Papa.”
She frowned and got quiet.
Wes didn’t know what made him ask the next question. As a rule, he didn’t ask personal questions of strangers. People tended to take them as an invitation to ask questions of their own.
“Your dad’s gay?”
Gus’ eyes shot to his, her expression utterly fierce, though the hand holding Bettie remained completely still.