Before going to bed that evening, Beth looked over her homework like she normally did. It was a report on the wetlands and living near the bayou proved especially beneficial to her on this assignment. It was given to her the week before and she had spent her afternoons at the bayou, taking photos and writing down the behavior of the wildlife which resided there. Alastor was certain that she would get an A but she was still nervous about it.

"What do you think Mom? Should I have added more paragraphs?"

Alastor and Beth's mother had died when she was only two and she had no memory of her, it made her sad but she found a way to cope with it by speaking to her in heaven. Her Sunday school teacher said that people in heaven can always see and hear you so Beth would regularly converse with her late mother as if she was in the room. Some people found it odd, usually those who weren't really religious and Alastor wasn't too fond of it either but he didn't say anything.

"I hope I wrote my paper the way you would. You're the best writer in the world and I have proof of that."

Beth's "proof" was a storybook that Daisy had made for her when she first got pregnant. It was a collection of fairy tales by Hans Christian Anderson, written on beautifully illustrated pages and pop up images, held together but a hard cover that was lined with silver. She might have been too old for story books but she just couldn't help but become entranced by the spellbinding tales and it made her feel that anything was possible. However I think the main reason she kept it was because it was the only thing Beth had to remind her of her mother so she treasured it as one would a bible or a diary.

"I remember the day Mom made that for you." Alastor said upon entering the room to find her reading it like she had done many times before. "At first I was surprised that she could create something like that but then I remembered that she was the most talented woman I ever knew."

"Did she ever make you a storybook?" Beth asked.

"No." He answered. "I stopped reading storybooks long ago, and music was more my passion anyway."

"You said Mom had three passions, right? Singing, writing, and romance?"

"Yep. She used to tell me that when she was a little girl she dreamed of singing love songs and writing romance novels. Made me sick to think about but I smiled anyway."

"You never liked romance did you?"

"Beth I was a little boy when she told me that. What little boy likes romance?"

"Okay but you don't like it even as a grown man. You're totally against love so you don't have any important female in your life besides me."

It was true. Alastor had never had one serious relationship with a woman. Now it wasn't as though he was no catch. He was ruggedly handsome, witty, polite, charming, thoughtful, attentive, smart. Plenty of ladies had given him the eye and he had gone on a few dates out of boredom but he always failed to connect with any of them. There was no spark. No bond. Nothing. He just treated his dates as if they were strangers or co-workers.

"You don't like anything to do with dating or relationships or finding a significant other." She continued. "That's why you're twenty-five and still a virgin."

"Beth!" He blushed.

"What? No one heard me this time."

"Beth I don't want to talk about this again."

"Do you prefer men? If you do I don't care."

"No I do not prefer men. I don't have any preferences. My heart just doesn't work in that department, and you know there's nothing wrong with not having a significant other."

"I know and if that was the only type of human contact you avoided I'd be alright with that. But you don't just choose not to have a significant other. You choose not to have friends either. I am literally the only person who has any meaning to you."

"What about Angel?"

"Oh yeah, him." Beth said looking irritated. "Well I never liked him. He patronizes me."

"Even so, he's a friend that I have so you can't complain."

"And just how often do you have this friend over? Hmm?"

"Beth we've been through this. I don't have him over a lot because number one, he moved away and number two, he's a fine fellow but not exactly someone I would want around you twenty-four seven."

"Is this about that time he stayed over drunk one night and then started to mastrubate on the sofa? I told you I didn't see anything and you burned the sofa so his perversive essence no longer lingers here."

"Can we please change the subject?"

"One more question." She said. "What kind of a woman could you fall in love with?"

"None. I can't fall in love. You know that. I've told you that countless times."

"But hypothetically speaking, if you could fall in love who would it be with? What would she have to peek your interests?"

"Alright I'll humor you."

He took three minutes to think about what to say. He had to be careful because Beth had a habit of trying to play matchmaker.

"I got it." He said. "She would have to look like an angel, have eyes that were different colors, smell like flowers without using perfume, and sing just as good as our mother did."

"Al a woman like that doesn't exist."

"I know which means there is no hope for me to lose my head over one. Or you trying to set me up with someone."

"No fair."

"Life is seldom fair Beth. Now it's time to call it a night." He said pulling the covers over her. "No more talking and no more reading til tomorrow. Understand?"

"I understand, but can you sing me the song that Mom used to sing to you?"

"I thought you were getting too old for that."

"I'm never too old for anything to do with Mom."

Alastor smiled at the way his sister giggled. It was moments like these when she would remind him so much of their mother. In fact she was very much like their mother. She had her red hair, her button nose, her laughter, her movement. They were so much alike and it made him miss her all the more.

What he missed most was how every night before bed, she would hold him close and sing to him one of her favorite songs;

"I see trees of green,

Red roses too.

I see them bloom,

For me and you.

And I think to myself,

What a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue,

And clouds of white.

The bright blessed day,

The dark sacred night.

And I think to myself,

What a wonderful world."

Beth thought that he sang the song so divinely but she knew that he could never finish the whole thing. It was just too painful for him.

"Goodnight Beth."

"Goodnight Al."

He kissed her forehead, turned off her lamp, and left her to sleep.

"She is a handful but I wouldn't trade her for anything." He thought.

Alastor loved Beth deeply and he may have been firm with her but he would always try to make her happy. And he decided that maybe he should consider taking her on a vacation. He could probably afford something simple like a camping trip or a stay at a motel near some museums or theaters. But then again those were not Beth's ideal vacations. She really wanted the beach, he could tell by the way her eyes were pleading with him.

"You want a raise?"

The next day at work, Alastor had requested a meeting with his boss to discuss a possible raise or loan. Something to where he could afford to give his sister the vacation she wanted.

"I don't know Alastor. Don't get me wrong you've earned one but I'm not in the position to give you one right now."

"Please Mr. Calhoun." Alastor said. "Just enough for a trip to the beach? My sister wants to go to there this Summer but I can't afford anything like that with what I have now. Hotels and resorts cost an arm and a leg."

"Didn't you once say that your late father left you and your family a beach house in his will?"

"Yes. He built it at a beach called Chant de la Muer. But my stepfather took out a mortgage on it." His last sentence was spoken in a bitter tone. "He took away the very last thing my mother had of my father. It broke her heart."

"And I suppose you can't pay that mortgage?"

"No. I tried to buy it back when I was a teenager. That's why I took a job here in the first place. But then Mom died and I had to use my savings to support Beth and myself."

"Hmm...You said this house was located in Chant de la Muer?"

"Yes."

His boss went real quiet for a mommy and took several minutes to think about something. Then an idea seemed to come to him because his eyes suddenly it up.

"Tell you want Boudreaux, I can't give you a raise now but maybe I can make it to where you can have your vacation. A proposition if you will."

"What kind?"

"It's like this, I have a cousin who owns a cabaret in Chant de la Muer but recently she's been losing her business to some freak show circus that moved in. I told her if I had anyone with real talent I'd send them down there to help her out. You're a good singer and radio host so how about you spend the Summer working for her and I'll take care of the house expenses?"

"Well I'd be ecstatic to accept but I'm not sure if I'm good enough for a cabaret."

"She's desperate. Facing foreclosure. She can't afford to be picky right now."

"Fair enough. You've got yourself a deal."

They shook hands.

"When should I leave?"

"Does June 8th work for you?"

"Perfect." Alastor said. "Thank you Mr. Calhoun. Tell your cousin that I'll be there early and that I'll do my best."

"I'll be sure to. As a matter of fact, I'll call her right now." He picked up his phone and proceeded to dial the number. "You'll like Rosie. She's one hell of a gal but a word of advice, there are two things that you must never utter in her presence. The word circus and the name Frank."

"Why?"

"Just don't. If you value your life, never say circus or Frank in front of her."

When Alastor got off work, he went back home with a spring in his step and a huge grin on his face. He couldn't help it. He was just so excited to see the look on his sister's face when he told her the good news. If he was lucky, she would be so grateful to him that she would never do anything rebellious or mischievous again.

"A man can dream." He thought.