Beautiful Beginning Read Online Free PDF Page A

Chris—or Bull as he insisted on being called—made me want to chew off my own limb to escape. My mom used to say that Chris only wanted to be like us, and preferred the nickname so he would be one of the B’s: Brian, Bennett, Bull. I always suspected this was bullshit. After all, Henry started with an H , and the personalized beer cozy Bull brought to parties, along with his unbuttoned shirt and gold chains nestled in a thicket of wild chest hair, suggested he was totally fine being his own person. Chris just liked the idea of being called Bull because he was an idiot.
    “I’m sure Bull is excited to see you,” Dad said with a knowing smile.
    “I’ll keep an eye out,” I said. “And I’m sure Lyle has remembered a couple of colorful navy stories he’ll pass along to you over dinner. Maybe the results of his last prostate exam?”
    Dad nodded, eyes twinkling in restrained amusement as he waved to someone across the room. Dad’s eldest brother, Lyle—Bull’s father, go figure—seemed to have no filter for the inappropriate. Over the years I’d lost count of the number of stories Lyle had told about his adventures in the navy, disgusting bodily functions, how people in rural towns had “relations” with animals, and the various moles his wife had to have removed from her back. “Maybe I should suggest he offer one as a toast?”
    Laughing I said, “I’ll give you one whole American dollar to suggest it, Dad.”
    My mother approached, kissing my cheek before licking her thumb and reaching to smear off what I could only imagine was a bright pink lipstick mark. I ducked out of her grasp and grabbed a napkin off a table instead.
    “Why didn’t you wear the blue suit?” she asked, snatching the napkin from me to wipe my face clean.
    “ Hi , Mom. You look beautiful.”
    “Hi, darling. I liked the blue suit much better than this one.”
    I looked down at the charcoal Prada suit I wore, smoothing a hand over the front of the jacket. “I like this one.” And , I didn’t add, I packed at two in the morning under a drunken sex haze.
    “Blue would have been more appropriate for tonight.” She was practically vibrating with nerves. “This one makes me think you’re heading to a funeral.”
    Dad handed her his cocktail and she downed it with a shaking hand before walking away again.
    “Well, that was fun,” I said and Dad laughed.
    Chloe joined us—clearly a bit exasperated from dealing with her father—and we made a circuit of the room, greeting everyone who had come early in the week and reacquainting ourselves with old family and friends. A little while later, my mom called to let us all know that dinner was starting and we moved back to the dining area.
    I located the place cards with our names near the center of the room. Chloe sat on my right, her dad next to her. My dad had apparently taken Frederick’s advice because Chloe’s aunts—Mary and Judith—were seated together nearby, slapping the table and cackling up a storm. Chris . . . Bull made his entrance as we were all taking a seat, shouting my name and lifting his can of beer—and requisite cozy—in my direction. His eyes moved over Chloe slower than should have been humanly possible, after which he gave me a thumbs-up.
    I made a mental note to call a friend of mine at the IRS and have him audited.
    I was only kidding. Mostly.
    Dinner consisted of seared salmon and heirloom tomatoes, potato puree, and basil beurre blanc. It was perfect, and made it almost possible to tune out the conversations around me.
    “Are you kidding?” Bull yelled from across the room at an elderly second-aunt on my mother’s side. “You must be kidding me. Eagles fans live their life feeling like they never get the credit they deserve. You want attention and praise? Win a goddamn game , that’s what I’m saying!” Bull took a giant gulp of beer, swallowed, and semi-stifled a loud belch. “And another thing—you’re old, I bet you know the answer to