*Edited for content 2018 *
Prologue
She grew up on a side of the road
Where the church bells ring and strong love grows
She grew up good
She grew up slow
Like American honey
Steady as a preacher
Free as a weed
Couldn't wait to get goin
'But wasn't quite ready to leave
So innocent, pure and sweet
American honey
There's a wild, wild whisper
Blowin' in the wind
Callin' out my name like a long lost friend
Oh I miss those days as the years go by
Oh nothing's sweeter than summertime
And American honey
Get caught in the race
Of this crazy life
Tryin' to be everything can make you lose your mind
I just wanna go back in time
To American honey, yea
There's a wild, wild whisper
Blowin' in the wind
Callin' out my name like a long lost friend
Oh I miss those days as the years go by
Oh nothing's sweeter than summertime
And American honey
Gone for so long now
I gotta get back to her somehow
To American honey
Ooh There's a wild, wild whisper
Blowin' in the wind
Callin' out my name like a long lost friend
Oh I miss those days as the years go by
Oh nothin's sweeter than summertime
And American honey
And American honey
American Honey- Lady Antebellum
Chapter 1
"Bree, did you send in the edits for the Stewart account?" I ask my assistant as she stepped into my office.
"Yes Ms. Swan." she answers. I roll my eyes.
"Bree, how many times must I tell you to call me Bella?" I moan. We had this very discussion multiple times. Bree was nearly twenty years older than me and yet she still felt the need to call me 'Miss Swan'. In fact she was old enough to be my mother. Bree looked at me sheepishly and I took her silence as a sign for me to continue.
"How about this? It's almost the end of the day and everyone's gone so why don't you go ahead and leave." I smile. I didn't want to admit that maybe I could get a little more work done with her gone.
"I don't know." she replies hesitantly seeing the piles of papers on my desk.
"Bree go home." I push. Bree clasped her hands in front of her and looked at me with a conflicted expression on her face. That woman really was a godsend. To deal with a bitch like me, you had to have tough skin and Bree took everything I gave her and more.
"Are you sure? I'll feel like I'm useless if I leave you here." She responds. I shake my head.
"Well to ease your worries how about you type up that report for me and then you're free to go." I offer. There was really no reason for her to stay and I kind of wanted some peace and quiet. I looked back at Bree.
"Thanks Ms. Sw-…" she stops when I mock glare at her.
"I mean Bella." Bree giggles as I wave her out.
As soon as she closes the door behind her shut, I slide down gratefully in my seat and close my eyes. I was exhausted. I had a deep throb behind my shoulders and my poor feet ached from being on them all day. It felt like I had been working for hours on end when in reality it was just a little after two in the afternoon, but the exhaustion was worth it.
At age 30, I had done a tremendous amount of work to get to this stage in my life.
It had all started with my mom's abrupt decision to leave Tennessee when I was seventeen. We lived in a small town called Myersville. Myersville was located in the smack dab of nowhere and was home to a measly population of 1,500 citizens where everyone knew everybody and nothing was private. It was there that I spent those seventeen years of my life with my parents, friends, and grandfather.
A few years before we left, my dad had been killed line of fire. A check in to a lone trailer where a domestic dispute had erupted between old man Gerandy, the town drunkard and his wife. As the closest cop, my dad was the first to arrive and had barely taken a few steps from his car when Gerandy in one of his alcohol-fueled rages pulled out his rifle and shot my father in the chest before pulling the gun on himself. Dad had bled out before any back up could arrive. It was the most drama that town had seen in decades and one that forever left a mark on my family.
My father's abrupt death suddenly left my mother and me alone. It was one of the hardest periods of my life where I was angry with everyone and everything I came into contact with. I was mad at God for taking my father away from me; mad at my Dad for being so preemptive with his job and arriving first to the scene. I was mad at Mom for "feeling nothing" and my family for telling me to "just get over it already". The world seemed to keep going, while I felt alone and abandoned.
Seeing the turmoil I was facing and the absolute hell I was giving my mother through my grief, my dad's father and my grandfather, affectionately known as "Poppy" stepped in. Poppy became my second father and one of the most important men in my life. For every event or award my dad could not attend, he was right there on the sidelines supporting me along the way. He was the healing I didn't know I needed and the assurance that made me feel safe at night.
While I continued to heal with my grandfather's guidance, my mother seemingly dealt with her own heartache in silence. Her silent anguish finally became aware to me, when the summer before my junior year of high school, she saw it as the perfect opportunity to leave Myersville, feeling claustrophobic and jaded with staying in the small town. Having no other choice but to leave, we packed up our belongings and moved across the country to the west coast leaving my friends, extended family, and beloved Poppy behind.
At first, I was extremely angry with my mother for making us leave. She had basically taken me from everything I had ever known. I knew my mother was free-spirited and still grieving but I never thought she would want to leave everything behind. She would spend countless nights arguing with me about why this was the best decision for us but I just didn't listen. I would attempt to write letters to send home, but the words never seemed to come out right. I would grab the old cord phone in our little apartment to call my grandfather or one of my many cousins, but my mouth would just get dry.
I'd fashioned the idea that once I graduated and turned eighteen, I would return home to the open arms of my friends and family, but eventually, the city began to grow on me and I made new friends and did new things until I barely thought about home anymore.
Time moves on and before you know it, a decade has passed and nothing's changed. I hadn't been back home since.
Even my mom managed to move back after a few years of coercing and "finding herself", but I was still too stubborn to leave my new home. My only real regret was not visiting my Poppy. The early months of our departure he would call all the time and in weird twists of fate, I would always be "busy" or occupied with my own selfishness until the calls slowly became sparse and eventually nonexistent.
I was living my life and somehow I knew he understood this.
After I had completed my English B.A and attended graduate school, I abruptly threw myself into the world of adulting with the determination that I was going to make my life better for myself. The first year was the hardest and another moment in my life where I felt the most defeated. I'd sent out résumés to countless places, which usually ended with the same results.
"I'm sorry, you're just not what we're looking for but we will keep your resume on file." A generic reply and nice way of saying that I was shit out of luck. I couldn't blame them either. I was young, naïve, with a thick southern accent. Not professional in the slightest. To them I was just some southerner, attempting to make it in the big city. I went through another year of aimless jobs and rejection and was gladly ready to throw in the towel with my tail between my legs when I met Felix.
Felix came into my life like a knight in shining armor. He was tall with sun-kissed skin and the biggest blue eyes I had ever seen. I had met him in a coffee shop one day filling in yet another application when he approached me under the cheap guise of looking for a model for a book cover. He'd explained that he worked as a freelance photographer for one of the top book publishing companies: SM Co. in the country.
I'd thought it was a bunch of crap until he invited me to join him on one of his shoots and much to my surprise, was telling the truth. I watched in awe as he gave me a brief tour of the building, momentarily leaving me to my own devices as he talked to one of his colleagues. As if it were kismet finally taking pity on me, Felix explained that one of the departments was looking for an assistant to work under their current editor Sheryl Cope.
Not being one to throw away an amazing opportunity such as this, I took immediate advantage of the situation and jumped at the opportunity. I interned under Sheryl for several years until she decided to retire. I thought that once again I was going to be screwed out of an amazing job and when she offered me her position despite the seniority of the other staff, I was pleasantly surprised. I eagerly accepted and stepped into the very large shoes she left in her wake. The first couple of months were extremely rough, but working at SM Co. became one of the best things to happen to me and I soon become one of the best editors of non-fiction at the company.
Working there, unfortunately, had to come at a price. I had to change myself in the process. I couldn't be knobby-kneed Bella Bee, with the simple jeans, t-shirt, and ratty converse. Enter Isabella Swan, renowned editor of one of the best book publishing companies. I had to introduce myself to designer clothing and lose the southern accent. I didn't want my potential clients to doubt my capability to work as this "weak-minded southerner".
As cliché as it sounded, if you wanted to be anybody in this city, you had to know the right people and to know the right people, you had to look and speak the part.
Life was essentially perfect at this point. I had an amazing job and an even more amazing boyfriend.
Felix and I had been dating for a few years at this point and I was convinced that he was going to propose soon. Our relationship had hit the back burner for a bit, but after working five years at SM, I had finally gotten a promotion and was upgraded to a junior editor, which would give me a bit more downtime. I still wasn't the senior editor, but at least I would get my own floor and team. I'd eagerly accepted the position and rushed home to tell Felix the good news.
I nearly killed myself in my haste to get home but I had been so excited. I'd bounded up the numerous stairs to our studio apartment and opened the door. I called out his name numerous times but didn't hear a response. I figured he was probably asleep when I heard the soft moaning coming from our bedroom. Felix had claimed to be under the weather lately and being the naïve person that I am, feared he was moaning in pain. Opening the door and fearing the worst, there lay Felix in our bed not moaning from agony, but in sheer pleasure with another man; our next door neighbor Demetri.
To say I was shocked was the biggest understatement of the century. After nearly five years of being together, he decided to cheat on me with another man. I mean, I have nothing against homosexuality, but when the so-called love of your life cheats on you with a man, it's a hit to a girl's self-esteem.
Let's just say that day ended with me having a migraine the size of Texas, and fighting the urge not to go Lorena Bobbitt on his ass. We broke up immediately afterward and over the next few months, moved myself off back into a place of seclusion while I struggled to build myself back up.
That was roughly a year ago, and long story short, I don't date. I knew I wasn't ugly, but that made me choosy when it came to guys, wondering if they only wanted me because he thought I looked good, or the potential benefits I could provide them from my position. It usually fell into the latter choice. I was in a bit of a dry spell, and as much as I hate to admit it, I loved sex, and not having it for a while had definitely turned me into a prude. I could go out a pick up any prick, but I was not that girl and now vehemently despised the act and the connotations of attachment it could lead to.
Besides, I didn't have time for a relationship anyway. My job came first.
And to be honest, any guy I'd date would have to accept that fact and unfortunately, the selfish part of me realized that would never happen, because who wants to come into second place with something?
The thought drifted away as I began to massage my temples to ease the pounding migraine in my head. I let out a sigh and looked at my desk filled with piles of documents. I was in a bit of a rough patch at work. Inquiries were at a standstill and the company was in the midst of a fiscal crisis. It didn't help that as of late, some of the senior editors above me were sending down some of their busy work down to me. It led to me being constantly agitated and ready to fire anyone who couldn't keep up.
It was one of these moments that made me wish I were back in Myersville.
I looked over at the clock to see that it was now a little after 3 when Bree came back in with a smile on her face.
"Bella, I finished the report." Bree said timidly, laying the file on my desk.
"Thank you, Bree." I gesture over at the clock. "You can leave now. There's nothing else for you do and you should probably go get off your feet. Go tell that husband of yours I say hello and give your grandson a big sloppy kiss for me." I grin. A broad smile spread across her face at the thought of seeing her daughter and grandson and I momentarily wondered if something like that would ever be in the cards for me.
"Thank you. By the way, someone left a message for you. They said it was urgent and when I asked what the issue was, they claimed it was a private matter. The woman left a message for you. " Bree replies, before waving goodbye.
"I'll get to it. Enjoy your weekend." I smile genuinely at her. Curiosity bubbles in my stomach and out of nowhere panic ushers itself into my head. What was wrong? Was it my mom? I hadn't talked to my mom in a while but normally she would just call my cell phone if it were important. She was currently on one of her spontaneous trips of discovery and was in Florida of all places doing god knows what. She was definitely flighty, but I loved the woman.
I took a deep breath. No point in getting worked up over nothing. It was probably another potential author with a sob story about not being able to complete their deadline. Taking a deep breath, I hit play on my answering machine and laid my head back down on my desk and listened.
"I really hope I am talking to the right Bella Swan, I don't know…. I might be silly for even trying, but you may not remember me. I'm Esme Cullen: Alice, Edward, and Emmett's mother. I couldn't reach anyone and this was the only listing I could find, I'm sorry for interrupting you at your job….. I'm sorry I'm rambling, but your grandfather suffered a heart attack this morning. Your mother would have called herself, but she's a little out of it right now and trying to find a way to get back down here. Um, he's in critical condition and right now we don't know what's happening. I just thought you should know. I mean this is probably not even you… Just please come home Honey Bee..." she mumbles before hanging up.
I played the message a second time, to make sure I heard everything correctly, my stomach churning and the ringing in my ears becoming amplified as I tried to even out my breathing. Her use of my old nickname seemed to echo off the walls, reminding me of the life I had all those years ago.
Suddenly it all became real.
My Poppy had suffered a heart attack. The joyous, boisterous man that was like a second father to me was in the hospital. I wasn't even aware of the tears free falling down my face until I felt something wet splash against the report Bree had typed up.
I had to go. I needed to leave now.
I sat there for a few more minutes trying to get myself together when I saw my phone light up with a text from my mother.
Get ya butt back to Myersville Bee. Poppy heart attk. B back as soon as I can find a flight. Luv you!-Mom
I sighed. Her text had only solidified my exact thoughts. I had to go back home.
Brushing a few papers aside, I booted up my computer and searched for an available flight. Luckily I managed to catch the last flight leaving the city, which was due to depart in a little under two hours. Suddenly realizing I had no time to run back to my apartment and pack, I grabbed my phone, laptop, and purse before locking up my office. Shooting a quick email to Bree to take care of things in my absence, I ran out the door. Luckily for me, I had several credit cards on me and at about 200 dollars in cash to pick up some stuff once I made it to Tennessee.
Hopping in my car, I broke probably every traffic law to man. I arrived at the airport less than forty minutes later and parked, not even bothering to check it in. It could be towed at this point.
Without any bags to check, I ran through TSA, bumping against passengers along the way. I manage to make it to my gate just as they were about close the doors. Entirely out of breath, I make it to my seat before collapsing, ignoring the questioning gazes of other passengers who were looking at me like I was crazy.
Maybe I was…Heck, I probably looked the part.
I was a sweaty mess and my bun had come out of its twist, my wavy tresses halfway falling out in various strands around my face. I'd kick my heels off in my car, throwing on a pair of ratty slippers, which suddenly felt like they were embedded to the back of my ankles. My blouse was wrinkled and even my black-pencil skirt suddenly felt too tight and hot for me to wear.
The flight was to be at least seven and a half hours since we had two connections and I anxiously bounced around in my seat in response. As the plane finally left the runway we ascended into the air, all I could think of was my Poppy and hoped that I wasn't too late; that he would okay.
Tonight, after a decade of being away, I was finally returning to the one place I thought I left and forgotten.
I just hoped that this trip was worth it.
Thoughts? Leave it in a review!
xoxo Sylvia Cullen