A Year in the Life
by
Owlcroft
January
Peaceful Pines had gotten more than six inches of snow and when it had stopped snowing Charles Deetz, Beatie's doting Grandpapa, had let a hose trickle water down the hill outside the back door of the house. Now, the next morning, there was a thick, even sheet of ice over the snow – perfect for sledding.
The five-year-old Deetz granddaughter was ecstatic when she heard that he'd found the old sled in the garage and she could try it out. She hugged her Grandpapa gratefully before perching on the sled at the top of the hill and chanting, "Papa! Papa! Papa!" until Beetlejuice settled himself behind her and told her the two rules.
"You have to hang on now, okay? I've got you, but you keep hold of that strap and don't lean to either side." He peered around his daughter's winter-coat-clad shoulder to catch her gaze. "Just lean back against me and hold on. You ready?"
Beatie nodded, a little nervously, and he pushed off.
She screamed all the way down the hill and he shrieked with laughter. Once they'd come to a stop, they could hear Beatie's Mama and her grandparents laughing and cheering at the top of the hill.
After that, everyone took a turn, but Beatie and Beetlejuice got to ride down every other trip just because the others enjoyed watching them so much.
On their third trip back up the hill, Beetlejuice dragging the sled, his daughter asked him, slogging through the snow and puffing white clouds in the cold air, "Can't you just juice us to the top, Papa?"
"I could," he told her, "but I think it's better to walk up. If you're tired, I can carry you." He looked at her and raised his brows interrogatively.
"Just a little tired," she said, taking his offered hand. "But I can walk."
ooooo
Beatie went to bed early that night, tired out but still excited over her first sledding adventure. Her parents had promised they'd all go back tomorrow if the weather continued cold.
"She's really worn out, my darling. Maybe we let her do too much?" Lydia was sketching one last idea for her new line of womens business-wear.
Beetlejuice leaned against her desk, waiting for her. "You know, the last few trips, I could have juiced us to the top of the hill. She asked me to, but I said it was better to walk." He shrugged. "Maybe I should have."
"Why didn't you?" The sketch was completed and filed away, and Lydia came around the corner of the desk to pull her husband to his feet and lead him out the door.
"Well, two reasons, I guess. I hadn't really thought about it before she asked, but . . . first, she's human and she needs to know that she can't keep leaning on my juice for everything. She's got to be able to do stuff herself."
Lydia smiled and kissed him, starting up the staircase.
He smiled back at her, following. "Second, what you want is . . . worth more if you do something to get it. If everything is too easy, it means less; it took me a long time to learn that. I want her to understand it a lot quicker."
He got another kiss at the top of the stairs. "Didn't I always say you'd be a good father? I'm so proud of you."
"Me? I'm proud of you! You're smart, you're gifted, you work hard – and you're starting to be world-famous. That's something to be proud of." He put his arm around her as they approached their bedroom door.
"Beej, I think being a good father is maybe the best thing in the world to be proud of. And you should be."
"Hmm." He turned to face her and lifted a hand to her hair. "We can argue about that tomorrow."