May, 1966
"They're crossing over into an area that's been off limits. It's a bad sign," Dr. Cullen's crisp voice carried out across the yard as several of the community's fathers gathered to discuss the politics of the Vietnam War.
"They've been trying to take land that wasn't theirs for longer than just this war. Those damn gooks, always the greedy bastards. We should bomb them the way we did the Japs. That'll teach 'em," Michael Newton Sr. exclaimed loudly, his pale cheeks awash with color.
Bella, bored and weary of the talk on the Vietnam War, wandered away to where some of her recently graduated classmates stood. They were chattering happily, talking about making plans for their final summer of freedom before they got married, or started careers, or in the rare case went off to college like the Cullens.
"Isabella?" Edward Cullen called softly, setting down his Styrofoam plate of food. "Are you hungry? I can get you something if you'd like," he asked, eager to attend to her if she wished. "Sit and allow me to serve you."
"How many times must I ask you to call me 'Bella'?" Bella teased, her smile thin.
"It would not be appropriate to shorten your name informally without some type of," Edward hesitated, his eyes searching Bella's face with hope before he continued, "…intimate familiarity between us."
Immediately Bella looked down at the table she had sat at. Edward Cullen had been trying to date since she had turned twelve, despite him being older by two years. Angela, Bella's best friend had whispered to her early in the day that the only reason Edward had come home from college this summer was so that he could pursue a relationship with Bella.
"I'll just be gone a moment. If you'll excuse me," Edward said, walking away, presumably to prepare a plate for Bella.
She looked up to where his older brother, Emmett, and fiancée Rosalie Hale were speaking to Mrs. Esme Cullen. Rosalie was perfect to join the Cullen household. She held herself poised exactly as Esme did: nose up, makeup perfectly applied, lips pursed unless a smile was required and then the perfect sound of a tinkering laugh.
That wasn't Bella and never would be. She was happy wearing pants, something Mrs. Esme Cullen would roll over and die if she was asked to. Bella also liked being able to relax and be herself, not having to worry about what the towns people thought of her or if her husband was contributing adequately to society.
A white plate of fried chicken and potato salad suddenly appeared in front of Bella and she gave Edward a smile of thanks, watching the young man look entirely too hopeful for her liking. It would be a long afternoon.
The last of the party's guests were leaving, Mr. Newton having one last heated debate with Charlie, probably over the idea of their two children getting married. Michael was okay, but Bella didn't want to be his wife. She didn't particularly want to be Edward Cullen's wife either, but Charlie did. His only little girl marrying a man intent to be a doctor would relieve his mind of her wellbeing.
When the last vehicle pulled away from the house and Charlie walked back inside to watch the news, Bella slowly walked over to the tables still lined with dishes and food from the earlier party. Her mind wasn't concentrating on the task at hand, her hands blindly grasping objects to stack. Leaning over the red and white checkered tablecloth to reach the dishes on the other side, a shiny copper object suddenly hovered in her line of sight.
"Penny for your thoughts," a voice teased from behind her. The figure quickly stepped around to stand in front of her, revealing the man she had missed.
"Jacob!" Bella cried excitedly, turning around to give him a hug. She hesitated briefly, surveying the yard to make sure no one was about before wrapping her arms around the waist of her forbidden best friend.
"There's some food left over. Do you want me to get you a plate?" She asked sincerely.
"Maybe later." He paused to center himself before speaking rapidly if not a bit harshly. "I came here to wish you congratulations on your graduation, but then I heard your dad talking while I was waiting for the crowd to leave. He's gonna make sure you're well on your way to being married before Fall."
"He'll certainly try, but I do still have to say yes and that will never happen."
"Cullen will treat you good. He's got money and his family has prestige. You'd be foolish to say 'no'."
"Why do you always push me away? If I wanted to marry Edward, I would have dated him. Instead, I found myself taking hikes through the forests with the best tour guide to be found."
"Do you remember that first time I found you struggling through the forest, lost, cold, wet, hungry and fit to cry?"
"Yes," Bella answered peevishly, the memory far from being her favorite despite the fact that it was what allowed them to meet in the first place. "You scared the heck out of me and then proceeded to make fun of me for ten minutes, speaking in Quileute as if I knew it."
"You weren't afraid after the initial shock, though," Jacob whispered, still in awe at her bravery. She had been twelve years old, a white girl lost in the middle of nowhere and found by a fourteen year old, male Native American dressed in his tribal clothing on a mission to hunt.
"Why would I have been afraid of you?" Bella teased, playfully pinching his arm. "Your bow and arrow were still on your back and your knife was sheathed. If you had meant to hurt me, you wouldn't have chatted in gibberish for so long."
"Gibberish? How do you know I wasn't reciting some pagan ritual before I skinned you?"
"Because," Bella said softly, wondering why Jacob seemed so anxious, "if it had been a barbaric ritual killing, the words would have sounded harsh and guttural." Her voice lowered, "demonic even."
Jacob used more than just his eyes to observe the area around them before bending over to hover in front of Bella's face. "You're crazy, you know that?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he kissed her softly on the lips.
"God damn commies!" Charlie's voice poured out of the window, disturbing the young couple's moment of affection.
Jacob took two large steps away from Bella in preparation of fleeing into the nearby trees and hiding from her father should he suddenly appear in one of the windows overlooking the yard, or worse yet, on the back porch itself.
"It's okay, Jacob. Charlie is just watching the news. The war, you know?" Bella tried to explain quietly, eager to resume their embrace and shut out the rest of the world.
"He's right, though," Jacob whispered, taking Bella's hand as he sat down on the picnic bench, pulling her next to him. "The war has really taken a toll on people. Did you know Marcus Gambini?"
Bella's brow scrunched as she searched for a face to go with the name. "Sort of. He graduated my freshman year, I think. Why, how do you know him?"
"I didn't. Mrs. Stanley sometimes accompanies the missionaries on their visits and she was telling one of them about how his parents were devastated that he got killed overseas in the war."
Bella's hand flew up to cover her mouth in shock, her eyes glistening with quickly forming tears. "I had no idea. Charlie never said anything and it wasn't mentioned at church last Sunday. How awful."
"He is just one of many, though, Bella. Even on the tribe where we speak little of the rest of the world, this battle beyond the waters of salt affect us."
"How so?" Bella asked, surprised when Jacob didn't immediately answer. His jaw tightened as though he were angry.
"Our brothers to the north of here, the Makah… one of theirs went to fight and lost his life."
"I'm so sorry, Jacob. Did you know him well?"
"Our community is small. We know everyone like family," Jacob said sadly, looking down at their clasped hands. "He was only a summer older than me."
Bella squeezed tightly again, sharing his pain. She hadn't know his friend but she had known Marcus. Jacob didn't need to hear words that would do nothing to take away his grief or bring back the dead.
"We won't be accepted, Bella," Jacob whispered after some time. "Your father will disown you and the community will shun you. We can't live on the reservation; the tribe would eat you alive and spit you out."
"Then we'll live somewhere else," Bella whispered back. She wasn't scared of what others thought; people who went to church once a week and could still treat other races as if they were unworthy.
"With what money? Most of my cash I have to give to my dad to help keep food on the table."
"We'll move to the city where there are more opportunities. I can work at a diner or maybe even get a job as a secretary somewhere. I have a few hundred dollars saved up and that should last until we can find a better arrangement," Bella argued.
"I may have one," Jacob said quietly, his hand tightening around hers. She waited patiently for him to share his idea. "All your dad sees in me is some half-breed fool. If I can prove myself worthy of him, maybe he'll agree to us getting married."
"Jacob," Bella stated quietly, unsure how to ease his discomfort. "My dad doesn't hate you and your worthiness doesn't need to be proven to him. It's my opinion that counts and to me, you're perfect."
"How can that be? I never even went to high school and the only reason I can read and write is because of the missionaries who occasionally visit the Reservation."
"Jacob, books don't hold the answers to life. There is more to you than you let on. Why don't you believe that?"
"Because I want better for you. I want to be with you, but not living in some trashed home that has more holes than insulation and isn't fit to house rodents, much less my wife."
"Wife?" Bella asked, her voice quivering slightly. If Jacob said the word, she would march into her house, gather her things and go away with him right now. It didn't matter if it was today, tomorrow or next week. Here in Forks, nothing would ever change and them waiting for a time when it would was never going to happen. But he had never talked about marrying her.
"Yeah…wife. If you'll marry me?" His large hands cupped her face gently and Bella was unable to focus on anything other than his eyes. "I know we've never talked about it, but if you're serious and you really want to be with me, I want to marry you."
"Yes, Jacob. Yes! I will marry you."
They had both been respectively kicked out of their homes when the parents had been informed of the couple's plan to wed. Charlie hadn't realized his daughter had even known about the local reservation located thirty miles away from their sleepy town. For her to then announce she was planning on marrying someone who lived there had been the biggest shock of his life.
"You're ruining your life, Bella. If you go through with this, you can't live here," Charlie said quietly from her bedroom doorway, watching as she packed her clothes into an old duffel bag and then threw her bedding and some books into a nearby box.
"I love him, Dad. I'm not ruining my life and neither is Jacob. We're going to get married and be happy." She grabbed the packed bag to take downstairs, surprised when her father followed with the box as well, sitting it down next to the door.
"I wish you well, then, Bella," he said before turning to leave her alone.
Jacob wouldn't say what had transpired at his home, but when he showed up to pick up Bella and her things, his lip was busted and there was a bruise forming around his eye. Still, he smiled brightly when Bella ran out to greet him and they drove away quickly, saying goodbye to that part of their life.
The city was not what either of them had expected. Jobs were not scare, but they were severely limited to two people considered minorities. No one would pay much to hire a female and Native Americans were a dime a dozen in these parts. It was after their third apartment eviction for failing to make rent that Jacob made the decision.
"Are you sure?" Bella asked, standing behind the chair Jacob was seated in. "I just can't stand to see you get rid of it."
Jacob tuned around to give her a patient and sympathetic smile. He, too, was scared and nervous and felt ill at the thought but knew it had to be done. "Honey, we talked about this. You have to or else there won't be anything to keep."
With tears from both of them, Bella cut Jacob's hair at the nape of the neck to free his braid. She caught it before it could fall to the floor and held tightly to the silky material adorned with leather thongs. Jacob silently held out his hand for her to place it, clutching to it as tightly as she had so Bella could finish with the haircut he needed to join the army.
On a crisp September morning when most people her age were going to college, Bella said goodbye to her husband with promises to write often and call when he could. He'd mail his paychecks to her and she was to spend the money however need be.
One week later, Bella discovered she was pregnant.
Bella missed Jacob every waking moment.
Christmas came and unlike the holidays of the past, this one was quiet and subdued. The temptation of being paid time and half to work the twenty-fifth was very becoming to Bella. If Jacob had been home, she never would have even considered it, but since she had no one close, it was just another day. Another day that she could make more money than she normally would. If tips were good enough, she might even be able to splurge to buy yarn and knit a baby quilt.
She laughed quietly to herself as she thought about what Jacob would say when he came home and saw her color choice, the dark hued blues. She had no idea if she was having a boy or a girl, and would be happy with either, but a small portion of her soul desperately wanted a little boy.
The small movement from within her abdomen caused her to gasp in shock. She could feel her child, her and Jacob's, moving within her stomach and the feeling was weird. A small fluttering, sometimes described as gassy or bubbly. Bella thought it might be somewhere between those two, but the emotion that came with the knowledge of feeling your child move for the first time from within was indescribable.
The letter came on a Thursday in early Spring. Bella was trying to get the lock on her apartment door to turn when the postal man tapped her on the shoulder, asking for a signature. She was running late for work and didn't pay much attention to it as she scribbled her name on the clipboard held out to her.
The letter could've been anything. It could've been something of an urgent matter. It could've been nothing of importance. What it definitely had was an official US government seal stamped all over it.
Alice Brandon saw the envelope Bella held tightly clutched in her hands as she came into the backroom. They were coworkers at an extremely busy twenty four hour diner, Alice was a flowerchild. Long hair, tie-dyed shirts and long flowing skirts, the young lady was always two steps away from passing out due to the drugs she constantly used. She was pleasant enough, although Bella suspected the only reason Alice kept her job was because she was sleeping with the owner's manager.
"It's probably nothing," Alice told her breezily as she hummed along to the radio they weren't supposed to have. "If it was bad news, they would've sent someone in person."
"How do you know?"
"They just do. We've had a few of those uniforms in here from time to time, complaining about crying widows." She patted Bella on the shoulder before grabbing the envelope away from her and tearing open the seal.
"Alice, please don't-" Bella cut herself off as she watched Alice's face for signs of what the letter might say.
"See? I was right." Alice folded up the letter and handed it back to her. "He's not dead, just missing. The army hasn't heard from him in three weeks."
Bella walked into the dingy living room of her apartment. The thread bare couch and ill cushioned chairs an eye sore to most. To her, it was the happiest of memories. A place where her and Jacob had spent a few evenings cuddling in the cold, unmindful of the fact that they couldn't afford to run the heat all night, or that they had shivered, embracing each other more tightly in love to share in each other's love.
It was the fake mantle that drew her attention each and every time. They were simple, lower class people and apartments didn't come with a fireplace but it didn't matter. Not a marble arch but a simple wooden shelf nailed into the wall, rough and unvarni,shed. The only thing occupying the once cluttered shelf was a crisp, clean American flag. One that had never seen a day service, unlike the man it represented.
"Do you want to take this stuff, too?" Her father asked as he passed by carrying a box of baby things Bella had packed the night before in preparation to move back home.
Bella ran her hands over the couch again, and choked back a sob. "Just the flag, Dad. There's no need or room for the rest of the furniture."
"Mrs. Black?" the doctor asked of the young woman clinging to an elder man's arm. He must be her father and not the child's. "Despite the strong course of medication, your son's body is too weak to fight. Your child will succumb to the infection. Nothing more can be done."
Bella stood motionless as the doctor spoke, unaware to focus on any one thing. The constant struggle of trying to take care of her child that had been hopelessly doomed since birth; the never ending agony that the military had been unable to send her anything of her deceased husband's, not even his tags; the looks of disgust from the nurses when she showed affection to her ill child that was a beautiful blend of both her and Jacob, but could not be classified as one race.
The doctor currently speaking to her could have been talking about the dirt on his shoe, for as little compassion or empathy his words held.
"Do you understand me, Mrs. Black?"
Charlie shook his daughter's arm to gain her attention. He couldn't speak himself, though, overwhelmed with the idea of losing his grandson.
"Yes, I understand, doctor," Bella eventually answered before walking away. She didn't care if she was being rude, the people here meant nothing to her and once she had to finally leave, she would never return.
Bella liked the park. It wasn't as familiar as the forests but offered a whiff of nature that helped ease her pain.
"How can you just sit there and smile when your child isn't even cold in his grave?" A harsh voice spat.
Still at ease, Bella looked up into the scowling face of Rosalie McCarty. She shrugged lightly. "How can I not? It's peaceful here."
Rosalie's contempt was palpable. "Do you feel any remorse for either your dead husband or your dead son?"
"Every minute," Bella agreed softly, still wearing her smile.
"That's repulsive. If you had married Edward Cullen or even Michael Newton, none of this would have happened. You would have been able to afford to keep your child alive and you would still have a husband by your side to give you more in the future."
"Perhaps it wasn't my destiny to have a family like that. I wish things had happened differently but I can't change them."
"You could show remorse," Rosalie accused her.
"Would it bring them back?"
"It would show that you aren't completely insane. Why would you even marry a nobody? Everyone in town talked about you for months and how your poor father had to take you back after your joke of a husband died."
Bella's smile fell away, her anger rising quickly. "My husband put his own safety and well being above everyone else's to defend our country. How could I ever be ashamed of that?"
"He knocked you up and then ran across the world, probably to shack up with some foreign woman." Rosalie sniffed disdainfully. "They say they couldn't even find his body. I bet it's because he deserted his post. Living on that rundown reservation, he'd be used to sleeping on the ground or in a cardboard box somewhere."
"You are a bitter woman, Rosalie McCarty. I empathize with your inability not to have children, but you have no idea what it was like to feel my child move within me. Every single day, I waited for letters from Jacob, a message to show he was okay and anxious for him to tell me what he thought when he learned he was to be a dad.
"When the soldiers showed up to tell me my husband was missing in action and declared dead by the secretary of defense, I gave thanks. Because I saw the news footage, the pictures and films of U.S. troops being tortured and maimed and Jacob wasn't one of them. There was no body and while I cried for that I could at least have the peace of mind to know that he was probably killed swiftly and instantly.
"All I could think about was that I still had a piece of him within me. A little boy or girl that would never get to know their father but that would hear nothing but the good things he did to ensure the safety of their well being and that of future children.
"And when I went into labor and felt my child struggle to be born, I knew my husband was with me, watching even if he wasn't by my side. The doctors told me I had a son and it was relief to know I had more of Jacob than I had previously hoped."
"Your child was born severely deformed," Rosalie cruelly reminded Bella. "You call that a blessing? But even so, he did die and you're happy about it, sitting in this park day after day and wearing a smile that screams you aren't right in the head."
Bella continued to talk as if she hadn't heard Rosalie's outrage. "David was so small but beautiful and I told him that every time I held him. He was in so much pain, though and I wanted him to be at peace. I almost wept in joy when the doctor said he was finally free."
"You killed your child?" Rosalie gasped in shock.
"Are you that selfish, Rosalie? I did not harm my child at all. I did all that I could to ensure he was taken care of, but his body was too weak to survive and god called him back to be with his father."
Physically, Rosalie snorted out loud, her hand rising quickly to cover her face while she checked to make sure no one else had heard. "An innocent child that could have been born under better circumstances if you hadn't been such a tramp and run off with that no good-"
"Shut up. Just SHUT UP! You want to judge me because I'm happy when you don't even understand the reasoning. I'd take both a crippled husband and an ill son with open arms but I have neither and instead I choose to comfort myself the only way I can. Jacob was a strong man and it would have slowly eaten away at his soul if he had survived an attack and been permanently disabled. I would've moved hell and earth to help my son, but watching him suffer before he was barely alive was more torturous than not having him at all."
Bella stood up and dusted herself off, preparing to leave the park for the day. Rosalie McCarty would believe what she wanted and would never comprehend what it meant to live through what Bella had.
"I may have lost it all very quickly, Rosalie, but at least I can say I had it once. Can you?"