A/N: I don't own Twilight. I'll just have to deal with it.
I was going to wring her neck like a chicken headed for the soup pot. Damn "Activities Director"; really she was a hound from the pit of hell. She came sidling up to me, too much ugly red lipstick under too much frizzy red hair. Smiling. Talking. Leading a team of people into the dining hall where I was relaxing. What the hell was she saying to the damn camera man? In order to know, I was going to have to turn up my hearing aid and hear her shrill, shrieking voice. Steady now; just enough for clarity, not enough to commit suicide.
"And with the death of Mr. Watanabe last week, our own Edward Masen becomes the oldest living man in the world at 108 years young! We're just so honored to have him residing here with us at the Mercer Island Sunrise Senior Centers!"
I wonders if she realized how many stupid things she's said in that sentence. I know I knew. My mind was still sharp; still able to parse a phrase, find the loopholes, the ways to turn it to my advantage. I just didn't have the energy to pin her to the wall like the moth-brain she was. If I did have, she'd be cinders by now, and I'd still be a practicing lawyer.
"Edward is also the oldest living veteran of World War I."
I'm the oldest living veteran altogether. God, her stupidity knew no bounds, did it? And how dare she call me Edward. I told her time and time again...
"We're so honored to have members of Mercer Island VFW Post 5760 on hand today to help celebrate Mr. Masen's achievement."
My achievement. I can't seem to die, and that's an achievement?
"We'd like to thank the Fred Meyer store in Bellevue for donating a birthday cake to help us celebrate...."
Publicity hound. That's all she was. I never have liked her, and I'm sure I made her quite aware of the fact. She reminded me why I never felt the need to settle down and marry one of the many harpies that clutched at me throughout my life. I couldn't imagine having to deal with a woman for years and years on end. I hadn't survived Verdun intact to be emasculated by a woman when I got home.
Maybe I could get my lovely candy-striper to poison her for me. Wait, that's not what they were called anymore. What did they call her? Oh yes - a Youth Ambassador. Where was she today? It was time for her to bring around the book cart, then she'd be in the computer room showing Mrs. Yin how to e-mail her grandchildren for the upmteenth time this month. I searched around the room for her, not able to see past all the bright damn lights in my face and the yip-yapping of the television woman and the stinking Activities Director and ...
"Congratulations, sir! 108! What an accomplishment!" I hadn't seen this man before; he was wearing a VFW hat and shaking my damn arm off.
Before I even thought it, my mouth shot off. "Unhand me, you oaf!"
It was suddenly quiet around me, and as I looked around I saw that everyone's mouth was gaping open as they stared at me.
"Damn birthday. I told you I didn't want a damn party, but no-one listened..."
The room cleared pretty fast after that. And then I was able to see her. The angel that made my existence tolerable. Her hair was a deep, rich brown, and she let the long tresses flow down her back. So rare for a young woman to have such beautiful long hair these days. And she had the nicest smile.
As she finished talking with Mrs. Chandler, she looked over at me and waved. I nodded back at her. She stood up and began pushing the book cart my way; she then promptly tripped over her own feet.
She was a bit of a mess when she walked. It was adorable. If I were a younger man I'd be at her side constantly, just waiting for her to trip so that I could catch her. Did she not have a beau? Were all the young men of today blind AND stupid?
She finally made it over to me. She smiled. "I would say 'Happy Birthday', but I'm afraid of your response, counselor."
"Haven't I told you to call me Edward, Miss Swan?"
"And haven't I asked you to call me Bella, Mr. Masen?"
I snorted. I was a gentleman. I knew better than to be so forward with my angel. "Were you able to get any legal books from the library this time?" I queried, not for the first time.
"They're still considered reference materials, Mr. Masen, and as such are unable to be checked out of the library, as well you know." A devious grin and a mild blush followed. "I do have something else for you to read this week."
Ah, she'd thought of me. My auburn-haired angel had thought of me. Her blush stunned my senses; made me wish I was a young man again, able to woo her with sonnets and flowers. She deserved more than the self-centered whelps I saw on the television. Idiots.
As I returned my glance to her face, she seemed to be waiting for me to say something. Where had we left off? Oh yes, something to read.
"Well, I suppose it will have to do." I huffed, not willing to let her see how her thoughtfulness affected me.
She pulled a silver-wrapped present from one of the shelves and came around the book cart to set it on the table next to me. She leaned over, bringing her beautiful face within inches of mine. She was trying to kill me, my bewitching Bella.
"Happy Birthday, Edward," she breathed softly, then kissed me on my cheek. Damn if it wasn't the best thing to happen to me for years. Her lips were soft, and the way she smelled reminded me of my mother's garden, all earth and sky and flowers. It would be improper of me to ask her never to leave my side, but I seriously considered it for the few seconds that she lingered.
My angel then stood, blushing furiously and giving a half-smile. "Enjoy your reading."
I watched her walk back around the cart, desperately trying to think of something witty to say, to keep her with me. But I couldn't come up with anything. As she moved toward the hallway, I picked up the gift she'd left next to me and opened it.
Dale Carnegie. How to Win Friends and Influence People.
I was stunned. My angel had a wicked sense of humor. I laughed. And laughed and laughed.
I looked up at where she should be - trying to maneuver the cart around the corner just outside the dining room. She looked over to me, her teeth worrying her bottom lip, and gave a jaunty wave. I raised my new book in acknowledgement.
I would count the hours until I could see my angel again.
