Hey friendos! If you're reading this from the future, this chapter was published at number 100! What a milestone!

Anyway here, enjoy some "Joe is a good dad" fluff.

Content warning: mentions of cancer, death


38.6. The magic "stay-at-home" number. Joe shook his head. "C'est un fievre, ma belle. Tu as besoin de rester ici aujourd'hui." (It's a fever, honey. You need to stay home today.)

"But I like kindergarten…" Katrina said sadly.

Joe ruffled her hair. "Je sais, mais ça ne va pas être si bien quand tu es malade." (I know, but it won't be much fun when you're sick.)

Katrina pouted and hid under the blankets. Joe sighed, and went downstairs to call the school.

"Bonjour, ceci c'est Joseph Beaufort. J'appelle pour t'informer que ma fille, Katrina Beaufort, ne va pas être à l'école aujourd'hui, parce qu'elle est malade." (Hello, this is Joseph Beaufort. I'm calling to inform you that my daughter, Katrina Beaufort, will not be in school today because she isn't feeling well.)


There's nothing really wrong with her, right? Just a fever and headache?

But then again, sometimes when someone's sick, it seems like it'll barely affect them at first, but then they get a lot worse.

No, that's crazy talk. What five-year-old just randomly contracts a major disease?

…But then again, there are staggering amounts of kids who die of cancer…

"Daddy?"

Joe jumped a bit when he heard his daughter's voice. He turned around, and Katrina clung to his legs. He picked her up and held her. "Oh la la, ma belle, tu m'effraies." (Oh, heavens, sweetheart, you startled me.)

Katrina clung to her father. She felt hot to the touch, and Joe could practically feel her head throbbing on his shoulder. To take her mind off her headache, he brought her to the living room and got out a box of photographs. "That looks just like the picture box Grandma has," said Katrina softly.

"Oui," said Joe. He picked the first picture up out of the rack. "Ceci c'est moi quand j'étais en école secondaire." (This is me when I was in high school.)

Katrina cocked her head. "You had a lot of hair."

Joe chuckled; he had very long hair until he chopped it all off for senior year. "Ca c'était cool en 2001, Katie." (That was cool in 2001, Katie.)

"I don't even know when 2001 was," griped Katrina.

"Eh bien," said Joe, "je tourne dix-sept ans cette année, et je suis presque trente maintenant, alors c'était treize années en passe." (Well, I turned seventeen that year, and I'm nearly thirty now, so it was thirteen years ago.) Thirteen years; mon dieu, that was a lot longer ago than he realised.

Katrina picked up a different picture from the box, one of fifteen-year-old Joe cheesing, having just had his braces taken off. "You look really happy here."

"Oui," said Joe, "et ici aussi." (Yes, and here too.) He showed her a picture of him doing a handstand on the bleachers. Katrina, losing interest, smushed her face into her father's chest. Joe rubbed her back, then laid her down on the couch for a nap.


That evening, as Katrina's headache was waning, Joe had her sip on some tomato soup, and let her pick a cartoon to watch. "Alors, ma belle, te sens-tu prête pour aller à la maternelle demain?" (So, sweetie, do you feel ready to go to kindergarten tomorrow?)

"Mmhmm," said Katrina sleepily. Joe let her finish the episode, then picked her up to bring her to bed. As he sat down on her bed, he rocked his precious child and softly hummed her an old French folk song.

"I'm gonna tell Claire that you got an A+ in science," mumbled Katrina, just before she completely drifted off. Joe tucked her into bed and kissed her good night.

So there. Katrina was going to be just fine. She would be back in school tomorrow. Nothing to worry about. Joe heaved a sigh of relief, and went to lie down in his own bed; his head was starting to throb.