Chapter 4: Madame Gaston, Can You Just See It?
Belle awakened to the sounds of clanging metal and the occasional "Damn, damn, damn!" drifting through her open window.
She shook her head as she emerged from her bed and shrugged into her pale blue dressing gown. Wasting no time binding her riot of curls, she padded barefoot down the hall and straight to the back door. It stood wide open, swinging in the frosty air.
Belle shivered and clasped her robe closer around her before stepping into the cold. There, lying on the hard, frozen ground, was her father. A hodge-podge array of wood and rusted metal breathed laboriously above him, giving off puffs of smoke into the misty morning sky.
"Papa." The girl admonished in a disapproving tone, causing the little man to jump. "You promised!"
The inventor slid out from under his experiment and stared at his daughter sheepishly. His goggled eyes blinked as they fixed on Belle's face. Shakily, he moved to stand. A cracking sound followed as he straightened his curved back and groaned. Sensing her father's trouble, Belle rushed forward. Her naked feet dug into the earth as she steadied him with an arm about his shoulders. Maurice smiled at his daughter, gratefully patting her hand as they moved to the door.
"I know dear, but I couldn't wait. I think I've done it! Look at her! Isn't she a beauty?" Her father paused on the steps and turned to stare at his invention. Still huffing, it gave a giant clunking sound, a gurgle, and then went quiet.
"It's supposed to do that." insisted the man.
Belle smiled and turned him back to the house. "It's amazing, Papa. You are going to be the hit of the fair. But you should have awakened me. After the fire yesterday…" she began.
"Why, I was barely singed." Her father protested as she led him indoors and moved him to sit by the fire. The small cottage was still cold from the long night and Belle shivered as she grabbed a thick flannel blanket to wrap around her father's frame. Then she turned and began preparing water for his tea.
"Barely is bad enough, Papa." Belle readied his drink and handed it to him carefully. She sat on the worn and shabby seat across from him, tucking her frozen feet beneath her. "What would I do if something happened to you?" she asked quietly.
Maurice turned to his daughter. The girl was too small, all folded into her chair. With her big hazel eyes and long curls draped heavily about her shoulders, she still looked like a child, not a woman of eighteen. And yet Maurice knew that she hadn't been a child for years. Not since her mother had passed away. Sadness, still new even after eight years, engulfed him and he sighed deeply.
"My girl, that is something we must discuss."
Belle sat up and placed her feet flat on the ground. "What must we discuss?" She felt the panic rise up her spine and her face went pale.
The old man chuckled and reached a hand to grab hers gently. "Now, now. I'm not saying anything will happen to me. I'm healthy as old Philippe out there. But the time is coming when you will want your own home. A husband. Perhaps even a dog or two." Her papa smiled teasingly.
Belle looked at her father in disbelief. What could he be thinking? She pulled her hand from his and stood. Without thought, she began pacing back and forth upon the worn braided rug in front of the fire.
"But Papa, I love our home. I'm happy as we are." Belle grabbed a spoke and began bothering the fire logs which were already burning admirably.
Sensing her discomfort, Maurice tried a different approach. After taking a long gulp of his beverage, he began slyly.
"That Gaston is a handsome fellow."
Belle's arm jerked up from the fire suddenly, causing sparks to fly from the pit and land on the brick and mortar surrounding it. Soot shot forward from the flames. Belatedly she stepped back and began shaking the skirt of her robe.
"Singed, dear?" her father laughed and grinned at the glare from his daughter.
"Funny." Belle answered breathlessly.
Her father continued on as if there had been no interruption. "He's got some good land too. Fine horses."
"Papa, please. Gaston is my friend, not my suitor. Where would you even get such an idea?"
"A man would have to be blind not to see how the boy cares for you." Maurice insisted, unaware that he still sported his thick goggles. Reaching forward with a giggle, Belle removed his clunky frames and folded them in her hand.
"Well that explains it, then." she teased and handed him his spectacles.
Belle's light laugh did not fool her father. He noticed the nervous way she tugged at her curls and sighed.
"He could take care of you, Belle, offer you a better life." The inventor paused and pushed back a stray curl from her forehead. "You can't waste away your youth on me, girl. It's not what I want for you. It's not what your mother would have wanted." Maurice blinked rapidly and cleared a lump from his throat. "Besides, aren't all the girls mad for him?"
"Yes." Belle nodded absently and went to stand by an open window. "Papa, even if he did care in that way, and he definitely does not, he's not for me. We want different things. Can you see me spending the rest of my life darning his socks, cleaning his game? Having his," Belle paused, blushing deeply, and began to twist her long hair over her shoulder absently, "his children." she completed with difficulty.
"I want more from this life, Papa. There has to be more."
Her father watched as she stared out the window, going to the places in her mind that she so often wandered to. He knew then that the boy had lost her and no matter what, Belle would never look at Gaston the way she gazed after the adventures in her dreams. Shaking his head sadly Maurice sighed.
"Of course there is, my girl. Of course, there is."
A.N. This story and characters within belong to the Walt Disney Co.
Hello again! I want to give a special thank you to Shiloh Grace for her thoughtful reviews. They have been very helpful. Shiloh Grace has a Beauty and the Beast story of her own, I Have Done It All For You, which is an incredibly unique and interesting take on our old favorite. I hope you check it out!
As for this story, we are off again! Shall we see what Gaston has up his tight sleeves? Can you guess, brilliant readers? Send me your thoughts or opinions of Belle's sweet papa and I'll personally wrap you in a flannel blanket. As always thanks for reading, reviewing, following and/ or favoriting. -S.