Page 33 of The County Fair Queen

"You're about to find out." His grip loosened around my wrist, but rather than release me, his palm touched mine, and our fingers weaved together. It felt like my heart was beating a mile a minute.

"Daddy, my hair! We didn't brush it last night. I specifically asked you to brush it," Beau said, marching toward his father. When he stalled in front of us, he crossed his arms against his chest and glared at Rivers with a look that sent chills down my spine. "You're lying. That's the only explanation for this."

"Beau," Rivers warned.

"But Daddy, I was in my sleep clothes. My hair was like a lion's mane." Ha slapped his hand over his mouth, his brows furrowed. "I must've looked terrible. Why would you let me come downstairs like that?"

"I didn't have much say in the matter," Rivers explained. "I can't exactly nail your door shut every time you go to sleep, just in case a local celebrity pops over in the middle of the night."

"Can't or won't?" he retorted, arching an eyebrow before turning his attention back to me. Rivers was right; this kid was terrifying. He had a crazed look about him, and his left eyelid was twitching like a car blinker at the end of its lifespan. Beau closed his eyes, gave himself a quick nod, and mouthed,'I can do this.'He opened his eyes, and in an instant, his entire demeanor had shifted. He smiled, held his hand out for me, and offered me a nod. I obliged, giving his hand three firm pumps. "BeaufordRivera," he said. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr. Firecracker. On behalf of the royal family—"

"Royal family?" I said.

"He thinks we're America's version of the Windsors."

"Mexican-American," Beau corrected.

"My apologies, Prince Beauford," Rivers said.

"Mr. Firecracker, as I was saying, on behalf of the royal family, I'd like to welcome you to"—he slung his arm to his side as if presenting me with the town itself—"Tallulah, Texas. We welcome you with open arms." He stared down at his other arm, which was still hanging stiffly at his side. Mouthing'whoops,'he slammed it out to his side, giving him the appearance of Jesus on the cross.

"Thank you?" I said, unsure what the hell the kid was doing.

"This is my father, Mayor Rivers Rivera, but you can just call him Dad."

With my lips drawn into a straight line, I assumed the role of ventriloquist, whispering, "If you think I'm calling you Daddy, you're high," to Rivers.

"We'll see," Rivers whispered back, tossing me another one of his trademark smiles—all teeth and gums and rays of unrequested sunshine.

"I'm your biggest fan, Mr. Firecracker," Beau said.

"That's true," Rivers agreed. "He's president of your fan club. Well, the Tallulah chapter, at least."

"There's a Tallulah chapter? How delightful."

"Don't get too excited. There's only two members in the group, and you're looking at them."

"He means us," Beaus explained matter-of-factly. "We're the two members." He leaned in toward me, bringing his voice to a whisper. "We're in the process of expanding. Whatever Daddy tells you about me slacking on the job, don't listen." Awell-placed death-glare was flashed in Rivers' direction. "You're going to get me fired."

Rivers held his hands up in surrender. "My apologies, Mr. President."

"It's fine," Beau said with a dramatic exhale, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. "Just don't let it happen again."

"Listen, Phillip," Rivers said. "I figured we could head over to Minnie's and grab a bite before the festivities begin."

"I don't want to intrude," I said. "Honestly, it's fine. Jordan and I can—"

"Please?" Beau asked, gently grabbing my wrist.

How could I say no to that?

***

"So," Rivers said after Minnie had taken our order. The camera crew were in the booth next to us, but they weren't filming. I'd told Brenda/Carole we needed a few moments of privacy to break the news to Beau off-camera.

"There's something we need to talk to you about," I interjected.

Beau grabbed a lemon slice from the small plate Minnie had brought him. He squeezed the lemon into his water before delicately placing the carcass back on his plate. Once the juice was extracted, he fished stray seeds from his glass with a spoon, lining them up precisely on his plate and setting the spoon down beside them. After pulling a napkin out of the dispenser, he unfolded the thin paper and covered the forgotten fruit. He kissed the tip of his finger and tapped the bump under his napkin where the discarded lemon carcass was buried. At his side, Fudge rested on the booth, his head pillowed by Beau's thigh. "Thank you," he mumbled as he reached into his pocket.

---