Standing at the back of the bar, I polished the counter top in preparation of tonight's crowd, and watched as my father, Charlie, and his best friend, Billy, set up their equipment on the stage. It was a slow, meticulous process, since it had been a while since they had performed together. Six months in fact, not since the night Harry died.
Charlie, along with his two friends turned bandmates, Harry and Billy, had opened this old bar sixteen years ago when they decided that the nagging of their wives was louder than the call of the road. Sue Clearwater, Sarah Black, and my own mother, Renee, were tired of spending all their time alone with the 'little hellions' as they called us kids.
Those hellions consisted of Leah Clearwater, Jacob Black, and me, Isabella Swan — all born within days of each other — and grew up thick as thieves. It was when Leah's little brother, Seth, was born three years later that marked the beginning of the end of road life for our fathers.
Just a few days before my fifth birthday, my father was home for good, working on opening the bar with his friends. A lot of my favorite memories growing up were in that bar. Our mothers took turns cooking, cleaning, and waitressing over the years, and on Friday and Saturday nights the four of us children were often holed up in the back office, watching movies and having sleepovers. By the time we were ten, we were cleaning tables, sweeping the floor, and other odd jobs that our parents could think up to keep us busy.
When I was sixteen I took over most of the kitchen duties from Sarah Black. I could cook everything on the menu by that time, seeing as my mother couldn't cook a thing. Leah decided to help out in the kitchen too, first as a prep cook, assisting me with anything I needed, and then as the manager, making sure the waitresses did their jobs and that the kitchen was running smoothly. Jacob joined us, although rather reluctantly, as the dishwasher and heavy lifter; the guy was completely buff.
Our mothers retreated to just doing the books, and they started spending more time at home, pusuing other pastimes such as knitting, gossiping, and the always popular — shopping. And when Jake turned eighteen, he abandoned his dishwashing duties and hung up his apron, passing them onto Seth, and moved, instead, to the front of the house as bouncer and crowd control. Everyone listened to Jake, and when he finally turned twenty-one, he took over the bar.
None of us had gotten an ounce of musical talent from our fathers. Not a lick!
The last night they played had been a Friday night. It was busier than usual, the orders backed up to the point that Leah had to jump in to help me keep up. Finally, at midnight, we got a chance to go watch our fathers perform. Charlie was singing as usual, wearing his jeans, a black t-shirt with the same leather jacket he'd worn for years, and of course the cowboy boots that my mother always tried to throw out. His dark hair was messy and showed a little salt and pepper at the temples and his face was scruffy as always.
Billy had his long black hair tied back, his trademark cowboy hat atop his head. He wore jeans and a white button-up shirt, partially undone with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Harry was wearing his denim button-up shirt with his black jeans and cowboy boots. His silver belt buckle, a gift from Seth and Leah for his birthday a few nights before, was gleaming in the lights. His hair wasn't as long as Billy's, but he, too, showed signs of age with the salt and pepper strands running through it. More salt then pepper, Leah always teased him.
Jake must have left one of the other guys in charge of the bar because he came up and stood between Leah and I, putting an arm around each of us.
"They look good up there," he said.
"Always have," I replied as they slowed down the tempo. All the couples on the dance floor moved together as the smoky sound of my father's voice filled the room. He played his old guitar as he sat on the small stool, Billy was on drums, as always, and Harry played the keyboards, moving along with the music.
"I think I could listen to them play every day of forever," Leah said, swaying slightly to the smooth rhythm.
I guess you could say we all worshipped our fathers, we just didn't realize that would be the last time we would see them all play together. After finishing their set, Charlie and Billy cleaned up while Harry headed into the office to take care of the cash from the night. Jake and Leah started in out front, while Seth and I tackled the kitchen. It hadn't been long before we all heard a loud crash from the back of the building — where the office was. Everyone ran towards the sound, calling Harry to mke sure everything was alright. It wasn't. Seth got there first, and found his father on the floor, money spread out all over.
I had taken a first aid class before, and I immediately moved to help Seth at his father's side. Istarted CPR right away and guided Seth to help me as Billy called for an ambulance, the panic in his voice barely registering. Once the paramedics arrived, they took over from us and went to work straight away, but were unable to get a pulse. Even still, they kept working on him as they transported him to the hospital, but we all knew the truth.
Harry Clearwater had died.
We closed the bar for the week, and Charlie and Billy hung up their instruments, hiring a DJ to play when the bar reopened. Seth and Leah took some time off work to help their mother who was completely heartbroken with the loss of her spouse. When they returned, they never worked together as one of them stayed home with their mother, Sue, who was not handling Harry's death very well.
Finally, five months after his death, Sue came into the bar on a Friday night, tucking herself into the back corner table. Seth sat beside her while Leah ran back and forth, making sure she was okay. When we closed for the night, we all went to sit with her.
"Harry would hate this," she said sadly.
"What do you mean?" Billy asked.
"The music," Sue said sadly. "Playing with you guys was his heart and soul, he'd hate to see you two not playing anymore."
"Sue," my father said. "We were a team, the three of us. We can't play on without him."
"Sure you can," Sue encouraged. "Find someone to fill his spot. That's what he'd want."
"How do you know that?" Billy asked.
"Would you have wanted Harry and Charlie to give up music if you had died?" she asked him. "What about you Charlie?"
Neither man answered, but a week later there was an ad in the paper for a keyboard player who could also play guitar or bass. It took them another week to find someone they thought could fill Harry's shoes. None of us kids had met the new guy, Eddie, yet, but both Billy and Charlie told us he was just as talented as Harry. They spent two weeks practicing early mornings so Edward could finish off his commitments to his old job. Tonight was the first time we'd all get to hear or see them together, and I know that both Seth and Leah were struggling with it. Hell, Jake and I were too; Harry had been a huge part of our lives.
"Bellsie," my father said, interrupting my musings.
"Yeah, Dad," I said, rolling my eyes at my father's use of my hated nickname.
"Eddie will be here in a few minutes, but Billy and I need to make a run to the liquor store to pick up our order tonight since their delivery truck broke down.
"What do you want me to do?" I asked.
"Let him in and give him a hand setting up," he said.
"Sure, Dad," I said.
Seth and Leah were out dealing with the bank deposits and making sure we had adequate cash for the night, and Jake was downstairs making room for the new booze. So, I sat and waited, not needing to prep the kitchen until later. About five minutes later I heard a knock on the door, and I opened it to reveal the most beautiful man I had ever seen.
"Hello," I greeted him, hoping I was doing a good job of hiding my obvious gawking. "Can I help you?"
"Hi," he replied pleasantly, extending his hand. "I'm Edward Cullen. I'm looking for Billy and Charlie."
"You're Eddie?" I asked, stunned, not believing that the young copper-haired man was playing with my father.
"I prefer Edward, but Charlie doesn't seem to like full names," Edward explained with a roll of his gorgeous green eyes.
"Well, I will call you Edward then, as long as you promise to call me Bella," I compromised and then I realized that I had yet to shake his hanh that was still extended between us. I blushed ever so slightly and reached out to grasp it, gasping as I did. His skin was soft, except for his fingertips, a feeling I was used to when surrounded by musicians. But it wasn't that fact that had caught me by surprise, it was the electric surge I felt flowing between us.
"You have a nickname too?" he asked, our hands still connected.
"Yup," I said, rubbing my hands together trying to commit the tingle I felt from his touch to memory. "Charlie is my dad. I have more nicknames than I could possibly remember."
"Really?" he asked, staring at me. I blushed and swallowed thickly.
"Let's see... Izzy, Iz, Bell, Bells, Bellie, Bellsie, B, IzzyB, Itsy," I rattled each of them off in succession, rolling my eyes. "Basically if it starts with a B or an I, I answer to it."
"I see," he said laughing.
"So if you keep calling me Bella, I will call you Edward," I said.
"You have a deal, Bella," he said with a crooked smile. The way my name rolled off his tongue and that sexy smile made my breath catch in my throat. I stared into his gorgeous, emerald green eyes until I realized what I was doing and looked away, blushing hotly. He chuckled quietly.
"Do you need any help with your equipment?" I asked him, refusing to look in his direction again.
"No, I think I have it," he said cockily.
"Okay, if you need anything let me know. I'll be in the kitchen," I said, scurrying off to the kitchen before I coud embarrass myself further. I was mortified that the first man that I had ever felt a spark of interest in was in my father's band. He was by far the sexiest man I'd ever met and my hand still tingled where our skin had met. I sighed as I moved around the kitchen, prepping for tonight.
When Seth and Leah came in a few minutes later, Seth was not his usual chatty self, simply carrying the cash bag to the office and walking out the back door again, heading home to his mother. Leah wasn't very chipper either. She plopped herself down in the kitchen on one of my counters and watched me work, not saying a word.
"Did you meet the new guy?" she asked quietly after a while.
"Briefly," I answered, not giving away too much information.
"And?" she asked nervously.
"He's hot," I said, feeling my cheeks flush again.
"What?" she asked looking at me incredulously.
"He's gorgeous. He has copper hair and the most beautiful green eyes. He's young, early twenties, and his smile..." I said dreamily, remembering every detail about Edward Cullen that I could.
"Oh my God! You totally have the hots for someone in the band!" she accused, wagging her finger at me like our mothers did when we got into something we shouldn't have.
"No!" Denial was more than a river in Egypt.
"You do," she giggled.
"Maybe," I admitted. "I don't know, Lee. He's just different than all the guys around here."
"I'm so telling Charlie," she giggled.
"Not unless you want me to tell everyone that I saw you and Jake kissing in the storage room last week," I narrowed my eyes at her and placed my hand on my hip, playing the trump card that was always good to hold.
"No!" she protested. "You wouldn't."
"If you keep your mouth shut, I won't, but you still have to tell me what that was about."
"We're kinda seeing each other," she said, her dark skin flushing. "We didn't want to say anything in case it doesn't work out."
"Looked like it was working out pretty good from my angle," I said as Leah blushed deeper. "My lips are sealed, Lee. I hope you guys can make it work."
"Okay, now that you distracted me from you... Bellie, it's your first crush!" she giggled, loudly.
"Shhhh!" I told her, clamping my hand over her mouth.
"Tell me what you know," she demanded, pulling my hand off her mouth.
"Nothing," I said, "other than the fact that he prefers to be called Edward. My dad, of course, insists on calling him Eddie!"
"Can he play?" she asked.
"I guess so," I said shrugging my shoulders. "Honestly, I have no clue."
"I'm just glad he's different than Dad," Leah said softlyafter a minute. "It feels really weird to have someone else playing with them."
Embracing her in my arms, I whispered back, "I know."
As we stood there hugging, the sound of the keyboard began to flow through the empty bar. We stayed there, holding onto one another and listen as Edward played through a few songs. Some of them were new, but some were the familiar melodies that our fathers had always played together. Those brought smiles to our faces and tears to our eyes.
"He can play keyboard, that's for sure," Leah said as Jake came up the stairs.
"Hot," he said waggling his eyebrows at the two of us hugging.
"Shut it, Lover Boy," I said to him. "I get to hug her too!"
"Wha...?" Jake started to say.
"The store room isn't the most discrete place to get a little nookie," I said, making Leah giggle.
"She won't say anything," Leah told Jake quickly. "She has a crush on Eddie."
"The new guy?" he asked, looking at me. "Awww, our little BellieWellie is growing up."
I shot him a glare, "Shut it, Jakey." All three of us broke out laughing, the intense emotions brought on by Edward's keyboard playing dissolved.
"You okay, Lee?" Jake asked her.
"I think so," she said. "Everything is just a reminder that he's really gone."
Leah leaned against Jake for support , and I went back to prepping the kitchen. Eventually the notes from the keybord stopped, and we heard Edward pick up his bass and start to tune it. Leah sighed as the noted reverbrated through the bar. She took a deep breath and squeezed Jake's hand, heading out front to prep the bar, and introduce themselves to Edward. I threatened them both before they left, reminding them that they both had mothers who would probably be ready to start planning the wedding and choosing names of their future grandchildren.
"Point made," Jake said, shivering dramatically.
When Charlie and Billy got back with the alcohol we all set about unloading it and bringing it down to the basement. I was surprised that even Edward volunteered to help out. Once everything was unloaded, my dad talked me into firing up the kitchen an hour early.
"What am I cooking?" I asked as I headed for the kitchen.
Each of them called out their orders, though, why I still asked was beyond me. They always ordered the same things. I was getting ready to start making their food when I stopped short.
"And you Edward?" I asked, realizing that he hadn't ordered yet.
"You have to try her mushroom ravioli," my dad said. "It is the best you'll ever taste."
"Then I guess I'll try the ravioli, please, Bella," he said, smiling at me. I was glad I wasn't holding anything sharp when he said my name because the man certainly had a golden tongue.
Within fifteen minutes I had everyone's meals plated and ready to go.
"You make this all from scratch?" Edward asked, looking at everyone's meals.
"Yeah," I replied, nodding my head as I ate my chicken caesar salad.
"This is incredible," he said. "Did you go to culinary school?"
"No," I said almost wistfully. It had always been my dream.
"She's been cooking here forever," Jake explained through a mouth full of food.
Leah slapped him on the back of the head and chastised him for talking with his mouth full. I just glared at him.
"You have all known each other for a while," Edward observed, looking between Leah, Jake, and me.
"They were all born within a week of each other," Billy volunteered. "Bella is Charlie's kid, Jake is mine, and Leah's father was Harry."
"Oh," Edward said, turning to Leah. "I'm sorry to hear about your dad."
"Thank you," Leah said.
We finished eating, filling Edward in on little things around the bar, and before we knew it, it was time to open. Billy went up to the office to get the cash drawers while Charlie went to help Jake set up the bar. Leah had also made herself scarce, though I wasn't sure what she was doing.
"That was really good," Edward complimented.
"Thank you," I said.
"Can I help with the dishes or anything?" he asked.
"No," I giggled. "We have a dishwasher and the waitresses start in a few minutes."
"Okay," he said. "Anything else I need to know?"
"Watch out for the waitresses," I warned quietly, leaning towards him. "They can get a little handsy, but they are generally harmless. They'll cop a feel if they think it will get them extra tips."
"So noted," he said with a smile. "Thanks again, Bella." I watched as he walked out towards the front, nothing that he looked just as good from that angle.
Service picked up quickly that night, most of our regulars aware of Charlie's and Billy's plans to return to the stage. I didn't even catch a break until after midnight, when I finally made it to the front of the house to catch a few songs.
"I'm going to switch things up a bit. Our new member, Eddie, has an incredible voice. Let's get him up here to sing a song for us. Edward smiled and grabbed a guitar, before moving to center stage. He sat on my father's stool and began picking the strings. I stood, stunned, as his velvet voice transformed into a richer sound as the lyrics passed his lips.
I don't think I heard a single word he sang, but it felt like he was singing to me. Though his gaze remained on his guitar for most of the performance, when he finally did look up, our eyes met. I smiled at him, and his mouth quirked up, smiling in return.
That was the first night I dreamt of Edward Cullen.
Over the next few weeks we shared a few long conversations and many more stolen minutes spent playing twenty questions. Every night I made sure I heard him sing at least once. And every time I did, he would look up at me and smile, singing the words as if it were only he and I, and no one else.
Finally, after he had been at the bar for six weeks, Charlie and Billy both cut out early, and Jake and Leah took that opportunity to sneak out on their own, knowing they'd have to come back early the next day to get all their stuff done. The band was taking the next night off, so Edward stayed to clean up the instruments.
With the two of us alone in the empty bar, it seemed the attraction that had been steadily building between us over the last few weeks had finally reached its boiling point. When I had finished the kitchen, I walked out front to see how he was doing.
The stage was all clear except for his guitar and the stool. The spot light was on and as I called his name, he walked out of the shadows , picked up his guitar, and looked right at me as he began to play.
I'll be your man
And I'll understand
And I'll do my best
To take good care of you.
I felt my heart speed up as my feet moved on their own accord. Our eyes never left each other as I came closer.
You'll be my queen,
I'll be your king,
And I'll be your lover too.
Yeah, yeah,
Yes, I will!
My breath caught in my throat. Was he saying what I thought he was? Could he possibly feel for me the way I felt for him?
Derry down green,
Color of my dream,
A dream that's daily coming true.
And ohhh when the day is through,
I will come to you and tell you of
Your many charms.
My heart was racing as I climbed onto the stage, moving slowly until I was standing next to him. His hand fumbled on the guitar momentarily as I reached my hand out to touch his cheek, but he leaned into my touch and looked up at me, his green eyes meeting mine again.
And when you look at me,
With eyes that see,
And we'll melt into each other's arms.
Hell yes! I moved my hand up to his hair, letting my fingers wrap around the copper strands as he finished the song in almost a whisper.
You'll be my queen
And I'll be your king
And I'll be your lover too.
We were both breathing heavily as he set his guitar down.
"Bella," he said, reaching out to touch my cheek. "I..."
I leaned my cheek into his touch and closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his skin against mine. The combination of the rough callouses from playing and the soft feel of his fingers sent goose bumps up my spine. I turned my face up to his and felt his hot breath on my lips.
"Edward," I whispered as he moved closer. My other hand met the first, winding their way around his neck and back into his hair. Our breathing, still heavy and uneven, his hands moved to my sides, holding my hips gently but firmly.
"Please," I whimpered.
He lowered his head more so that our lips were ghosting against each other, looking for the perfect place to meet. I'm not sure which of us was the one to make the final push forward into the kiss, and once our lips met, it ceased to matter. Our lips moved together in unison, both conveying the desperation and need we both felt.
"Will you be my queen?" he asked against my lips.
"If you'll be my king," I responded.
He kissed me again, molding his body against mine as our tongues caressed each other. In a brief moment of lucidity amongst the punch drunk sensation=on of his lips on mine I thought of the truth in the final line of the song.
And I'll be your lover, too.