Fuck my life. Why'd I decide to work at a fucking nursing home?

Right. Easy money, fairly easy job, close to home. What the fuck was I thinking? I should have gone to college for education, or even better, English, so I could have stayed at home and made lots of babies and never, ever stepped foot inside a nursing home unless it was to visit Charlie.

But, no, I had to get a job close to La Push. Because I'm in this "thing" with Jacob. I call it a thing because, even though we've been together for four years, it's all I've received from him. We aren't even fucking dating! We're just "together."

I drag my ass to Forks Heritage Home every morning at six a.m. and don't get home again until just after eight at night. God forbid one of the old bats decides to die. Then I'm stuck there until the ambulance arrives and carts them off to the hospital.

When did I turn into such a cynic? I couldn't even remember the last time I went to bed excited for the next day. The most exciting thing in my life was the odd Sunday I got off to sleep in. And all I did on my day off was sleep, eat, sleep, and read. And then sleep some more.

A nursing home is like high school all over again. The caretakers are like the teachers, sometimes even taking the place of parents, of the building, and the senior citizens are the hormonal teenagers.

Don't get me wrong, there were moments that made my day quite easily. I had my favourites at the FHH. Mr. and Mrs. McCarty were absolutely hilarious. And horny. Which wasn't funny at all. They would have been the football captain and the head cheerleader of FHH.

"Rosie!" Mr. McCarty yelled one day while I was distributing their pills. "Pills are here."

"Ah, fuck," Mrs. McCarty grumbled as she attempted to stand up from her rocking chair. She was leaning heavily on her walker, her body permanently bent at the hips. "Y'know, I don't think those pills are doing anything for us, Emmett. Nothin' at all."

"There is one pill that does something for us, Rosie," Mr. McCarty replied, wiggling his eyebrows and grinning.

Mrs. McCarty laughed as she walked towards her husband. Mr. McCarty used a cane. He was a hefty man, at least 6'5, 250 pounds. He had a thick head of white hair, bushy white eyebrows, hazel eyes that were constantly filled with mischief, and gigantic ears. He wore thick glasses and wore cardigans and camo slippers.

I used to come and visit the couple when I first started working at FHH. They were so interesting. Mr. McCarty fought in World War Two and the Vietnam War. Mrs. McCarty was one of the women that worked while the men were overseas. She worked at as a mechanic, and continued working as one after the war was over. That's how they met. Mr. McCarty needed his car to be fixed and he refused to let Mrs. McCarty fix it. They ended up fighting. And then Mr. McCarty kissed Mrs. McCarty and the rest was history. They ended up having six kids. All of them got married, too, and now they have fifteen grandchildren, with four more on the way.

"Oh, Bella, if you could have been at the wedding, you wouldn't be so bitter," Mrs. McCarty told me the day I asked her about her marriage. Thing about Mrs. McCarty was that she was outrageously blunt and didn't give two-shits about whether you were offended by it or not. "It was magical. And the night after?" Mrs. McCarty fanned herself, letting out a gasp. "It felt like it'd never end! In a good way, of course."

The first time I met the McCartys, I'd go so far as to say I'd never blushed so hard in my life. They were so open – too open – about their sexual life.

"You brought us the Viagra, right?" Mr. McCarty greeted me the first time I set foot in their apartment.

"P-pardon me?" I stammered, my brow furrowed, my cheeks burning.

"No need to be so embarrassed, dolly, me and Rosie have just been waiting for one of the nurses to bring us some damn Viagra. They won't let us leave the home, so I forced one of them to go grab it for us," Mr. McCarty explained.

"Oh, well, um, no, I don't have your Viagra," I mumbled. "Sorry?"

Mr. McCarty huffed. "I s'pose it's okay. What's your name anyway? You're new."

"I'm Bella, Bella Swan," I replied, shaking his paw, my tiny hand being lost in his. "You might know of my dad, Charlie Swan."

"Oh! Ol' Chiefy? Yeah, I know him." Mr. McCarty chuckled. "Your old man's not bad, Miss Swan. I sure don't like it when he kicks my ass at chess, but I gotta respect a man that upholds the law."

A lot of people recognized me because of my dad. He was the Chief of Police in Forks. Sometimes he'd come visit his godmother, Alice Brandon, and Mr. McCarty, who had been on the force when Dad first moved to Forks.

My mom, Renee, left us when I was two-years-old, so it was only Dad and me. I spent a lot of time down at La Push, with Billy and Jacob, while Dad was out on the job. I couldn't wait to leave Forks. And yet I ended up back there at the end of the day. Go figure.

Dad's godmother was a riot. She was pretty old, about to turn 95, and slightly insane with a pretty thick Ukrainian accent. She believed that she could see the future. I loved visiting her on the days where I thought I wouldn't be able to make it through my shift without "accidentally" giving someone the wrong pills because I was so pissed off.

"Bella, darling," she'd greet me, "things are looking mighty fine for you in de future, child! I can see a wedding ring and five kids." She'd beam at me. "Some lovely leettle grandkids for yer old man." Then she'd sigh. "Some great-grandbabies for me."

"I'd love to have some great-grandchildren for you to fuss over, Baba" – Baba was grandma in Ukrainian – "but you're gunna have to tell Jacob about all these visions you're having. Maybe that'll kick his ass into gear."

Alice would look at me through her thick glasses, her blue eyes magnified, making her look even more insane, and smile a knowing smile. "You can't tell the blind how to see, Bella dear. Your Jacob will come around eventually."

Jesus, she was omniscient. It was borderline creepy sometimes. But, every high school had their freak, and that was definitely Alice Brandon in the case of Forks Heritage Home.

She didn't even notice that Mr. Whitlock had an obsessive crush on her. Mr. Whitlock fought in World War Two and in 'Nam. He was an old Southern gentleman that ended up in Forks after he got a job in the lumber industry. He could talk your ear off about anything to do with history. The man's brain had no bottom when it came to knowledge on things that happened before 1990. Even better than his vast knowledge were his opinions on things like Area 52 or if Armstrong actually landed on the moon. He lived for that shit.

I cleaned for Mr. Whitlock sometimes, and while I cleaned, he talked and talked and talked. About anything, nothing, and everything in between.

"Y'know, back in 1934, Olympia was bigger than Seattle. Those were the days, Miss Bella." He sighed. "I used t'be able t'get anythin' from Olympia. Now I gotta order all my shit off'a the internet." He'd grimace and cross his arms. "I don't like it much. Don't trust the internet. It's just another way for the government to watch us, y'know? They're always watchin', Miss Bella. You keep that in mind the next time you try somethin' funny on your computer, ya hear?"

"I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Whitlock," I replied with a smile.

"You tell Miss Alice hello for me, will ya?"

"No problem, Mr. Whitlock."

So, we had our jock, our cheerleader, our freak, and Mr. Whitlock would probably the school's geek. I mean, the man knew everything. Dr. Cullen would also be a geek. He knew everything there was to know about the medical world. His wife, Esme, would have been the school sweetheart, the girl next door. Tanya Denali... Well, she would have been the school slut. She made her weekly rotations, going from Mr. Newton to Mr. Crowley to Mr. Yorkie and ending up with Mr. Masen. Mr. Newton would be the resident wannabe. Like, the kid that wanted to be cool so bad, but just couldn't pull it off. Mr. Crowley was a badass. He stole pills off of the tray often. Mr. Yorkie was the foreign kid. He was a tiny Chinese fellow that came to British Columbia in his mother's stomach so that he could get citizenship and make a living there. He moved to America after they recognized the immigrants as actual people in the States. I could barely understand a damn word he said, but I didn't mind the old man.

Mr. Masen was a different manner. He would have been the school's manwhore or pervert. And he continued to hold that title in FHH. I will never, ever forget the first time I met Mr. Masen.

I was doing supper rounds to all the single residents after I finished distributing pills to all the couples. Mr. Masen was my last stop before I could finally go home, so I was in a spectacular mood.

"Mr. Masen? I've got your supper," I announced as I knocked on the door while turning the knob.

"Come in," he called.

I opened the door and almost dropped the damn tray. He was in a pair of tightie whities. What. The. Fuck.

Gasping, I covered my eyes with my free hand, my face flaming.

"Fuck! I mean, fudge! Mr. Masen! Go put a robe on or something!" I demanded, not daring to peek until he agreed.

He sighed. "Fine. But you're ruining my Friday free-for-all."

"Friday free-for-all?" I screeched. "You knew I was coming, Mr. Masen! Do you do this to every nurse? Christ, it's not even Friday! It's Monday!"

"Call me Edward, hot stuff," he told me. I could tell he was smirking. "Friday, Monday, it's all the same when you're a bachelor. And, yes, I do this to every nurse. I've got to say though; I've received the most enthusiastic reaction from you."

"Enthusiastic? That wouldn't exactly be the best word to describe my reaction, Mr. Masen," I hissed. "Are you clothed?"

"I've got a robe on." I looked and sighed in relief when I didn't see his wrinkly body. He put on a blue terry-cloth robe. He was smirking at me, his laugh lines etched deep into his skin. "What word would you use to describe your reaction then, Miss...?"

"Swan, Bella Swan," I told him. "Um, horrified, disgusted... Those are two words I would have used. I'm practically scarred for life, Mr. Masen."

"Edward, please." He smirked once more. "I'll win you over soon enough, Bella. All the women working at this home love me to bits and pieces."

"Well, let's hope your personality improves slightly while I'm working here, Edward," I muttered. "Now, let's get this supper on the table so I can go home."

First impressions were too accurate in the case of Edward Masen. Almost every time I entered the room, he'd make a pass at me. I had actually come home from the home one day with a bruise on my ass where he'd pinched me. Jacob hadn't even been concerned, he just laughed. It felt like my face would be set in a permanent scowl after that.

I worked at FHH for three years. Three fucking years. I couldn't believe it. The time had flown by. Some residents died, some new residents entered, and life went on. Jacob and I were still "together," but I became pregnant. Charlie forced a shotgun wedding. Not exactly my ideal wedding, but at least Jacob and I had finally tied the knot. Little Marie was born soon after.

My co-workers, Jessica and Lauren, threw me a small baby shower at the home so all the folks at FHH could see Marie.

"Well, would you look at that," Miss Brandon whispered when she entered the room, her eyes widening. "A leetle great-grandbaby for me."

I smiled at her. "Would you like to hold her, Miss Brandon? Her name's Marie."

"Hello der, leetle Marie," Miss Brandon crooned. "Jasper! Would ya come and look at de leetle baby?"

Mr. Whitlock smiled at Marie and met my eyes, his grin widening.

"Congratulations, Miss Swan," he murmured to me.

Mr. and Mrs. McCarty came soon after. Mrs. McCarty scooped Marie up in her arms, immediately switching over into mother mode. Mr. McCarty just smiled at his wife.

"Bella, she's got your eyes," Mrs. McCarty told me matter-of-factly. "Was she born with brown eyes? David was born with brown eyes."

"Yeah, the doctors said that was fine though," I replied. "They might change."

Mrs. McCarty laughed. "I doubt it, Miss Bella. You've got beautiful brown eyes, and your husband's Native American, is he not?"

I nodded.

"You're going to have some lovely children with that man, Miss Bella," Mrs. McCarty said with a smile while she looked at Marie. "She been sleeping okay?"

"Surprisingly, yes."

We continued talking about motherhood and Marie while the rest of the folks strolled in. Mr. Masen strolled in with an easy smile on his face.

"Would you like to hold Marie, Mr. Masen?" I asked him after we opened gifts and ate some cake.

"Oh, no, no, I don't do babies, Miss Bella," he replied quickly, fear in his eyes. "I don't have any brothers or sisters, and I didn't reproduce myself. I've never been around children much."

"Let Marie be your firs then." I smiled. "Go on, she won't bite."

Mr. Masen let out a nervous chuckle. He cradled his arms and I laid her against his chest. Marie blinked up at him before gurgling and closing her eyes again. Mr. Masen lifted one of his big hands and stroked Marie's hand gently. She latched onto his finger tightly, her eyelids fluttering open again before closing once more.

I smiled at Mr. Masen and my daughter. He would have made a good father. It was such a shame he didn't settle down.

"See, it's not that bad, Mr. Masen," I murmured, brushing my hand over Marie's head.

"No, it's not bad at all," Mr. Masen whispered. "Please, call me Edward. You've been working here for years, Miss Bella. When will you drop the formalities?"

"You know I just call you Mr. Masen to piss you off," I teased.

Mr. Masen sighed. "This... This makes me wish I picked someone to settle down with. Lord knows there were plenty of decent woman in my life."

I smiled sadly at him.

He sighed again.

"Don't worry about it, Edward. I'll be sure to bring Marie, and whatever children I have after her, down to visit you. They can even call you Papa," I told him with a grin. "Jacob's dad passed away a couple of years ago, and his mother passed away just after he was born, so all these poor babies will have is Charlie."

Mr. Masen smiled at me. "Really, Miss Bella? You'd do that for a lonely old bachelor? A bachelor that practically sexually harasses you every day?"

"I know you're harmless," I said. Marie shifted in his arms, an uncomfortable look on her face. "Looks like she's hungry." I picked her out of Mr. Masen's arms. "You'll have to leave now."

"No, I'd like to stay," he replied with a crooked grin. And there was the Mr. Masen I'd grown to tolerate.

I rolled my eyes. "And you're back. I'll see you later, Mr. Masen."

He waved and turned his back, still grinning. He closed the door behind him, and I laughed quietly to myself. Only Mr. Masen...


I know I didn't do a very good job, but I thought it'd be interesting to see the Cullen clan as old men and women and Bella as a young woman. I tweaked the ages a little bit, and some of the characters a lot, but this was fun. More for me than for readers, but fun regardless.

If you enjoyed it, thank you very much.