Warnings:AUwhere Renee left Bella with Charlie in Forks; Could be considered a Renee!bashing fic. (I have nothing against Renee, but that's just how this story shaped up.)
A/N: Just a little Charlie/Bella father/daughter one-shot I cooked up, right in time for Father's Day. The song is "Slipping Through My Fingers"; I was watching Mamma Mia! when my muse slapped me upside my head.
Enjoy.
"Slipping through my fingers all the time,
I try to capture every minute, the feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time.
Do I really see what's in her mind?
Each time I think I'm close to knowing, she keeps on growing,
Slipping through my fingers all the time.
Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time.
Slipping through my fingers…."
September 13, 1989
The sweat was pouring down Renee's face, and her features were twisted in pain. Still, she was beautiful in that moment.
"Push, Renee! Come on! You can do it, honey. Just a couple more, and you'll be done! We'll have our little girl!"
She nearly screamed then as she pushed, and I thought my fingers would break beneath the pressure she was exerting upon them. Perhaps regrettably, Renee had opted out of the epidural after some of her hippy friends told her that the anesthesia would have ill effects on Bella.
Isabella. That's what we'd decided to name our daughter as soon as we'd learned the sex of the baby all those weeks ago. It seemed like yesterday that Renee pounced on me, shouting that she was pregnant. Now, nine months later, here we were.
Suddenly, a baby's cry split through the room, mingling with words of congratulations from the doctors and the sounds of Renee's crying and heavy panting. It was a beautiful cacophony. Bella was finally a part of the world.
After cleaning her up, the doctor placed my daughter in my arms. That was when I fell in love with my beautiful baby girl.
August 25, 1994 (Bella is four.)
"But, Daddy, I don't wanna go to kindy-garden!" Her bottom lip poked out, and that gesture, combined with those big brown eyes shining up at me, nearly broke my resolve and made me take the kid out for ice cream instead of taking her to school. Wasn't this Renee's job, anyway?
"I know, honey, but you have to."
"But…. But, why?" All sadness was gone now, and her little arms crossed over her chest.
"Because, that's what all little girls and boys that are about to be five have to do."
"Ew. There are going to be boys? Boys have cooties, Daddy. 'Cept you. At least, that's what Mommy says." Ah. There it was: that know-it-all smirk that she quickly covered with a polite smile. It was as if she didn't want me to feel bad for being stupid or something.
Cute now, I thought, but in another ten years….
"Your mommy is absolutely right. Boys do have cooties. The worst kind of cooties ever. And it only gets worse the older they get. Don't you ever forget that, okay, Bells?"
"Okay, daddy."
"Now, listen. You have to go to 'kindy-garden', but when you get home, I'll take you to the bookstore, and then we'll go to the diner for some pie, okay?"
"Hmm. Can I have some ice cream on top?"
"Let me think…. Alright. Yes, you can have ice cream on top, but only if you go to 'kindy-garden' and have fun."
She sighed, weighing her options. I had to stifle a grin. The kid was five going on fifty.
"Okaaay. But remember, you promised."
I grabbed her hand and led her out the door to her first-ever day of school, very suddenly feeling older than I ever had before.
October 31, 1996 (Bella is seven.)
"Are you ready, Bellsh? The trick-or-treating ish gonna start shoon!" I called up the stairs. I thought myself to be rather dashing in my Dracula costume, though the fangs made it difficult for me to enunciate. Oh well. This was one of the last years that Bella would allow me to accompany her in costume; soon, she'd be too cool for something like that.
"No!" She screamed. I ran up the stairs to see what the matter was, suddenly worrying that something had happened to her costume, or worse, to her. The kid was always running into things or falling down. I hadn't heard any thumps, but lately she'd been getting more creative….
"Bella, what's wrong?" I asked, my shoes causing me to slide a little farther than necessary past Bella's door.
"My costume. It's all wrong!"
"Honey, it looks fine to me! What do you think is wrong with it?"
"It's supposed to be a princess costume, Daddy, but the crown has rubies. Only queen crowns have rubies. Not princess crowns. They only have diamonds. I wanna be a princess, not a queen."
Bella was on the verge of tears.
"Sweetie, what's wrong with being a queen?"
"I don't wanna be a queen! Queens live with the king and the princess and make them happy, and then they leave just because, and it's not fair, and I don't wanna be a queen for Halloween because princesses are better!"
The tears were flowing freely now, and, blame it on male pattern density, but I only then understood her last words. 'Queens leave just when everybody's happy, and it's not fair….' Bella wasn't talking about Halloween costumes or royalty any longer; this was about Renee.
Renee had abdicated her motherly duties in favor of the Arizona sunshine. I had to agree with Bella: it's not fair. However, I couldn't just tell that to a seven-year-old and expect it to make her magically feel better. Life just didn't work that way.
So, we stayed home that night, choosing to watch movies together rather than going door-to-door begging for candy. I gave into Bella's every complaint, hoping to make her feel better in some way or another. By night's end, she'd forgotten all about the earlier drama, and she drifted to sleep in my arms on the couch.
I don't know which of us it consoled more.
February 14, 1999 (Bella is nine.)
I got home from work later than I'd hoped, and I was dog-tired. I hung up my gun belt (the safety was on and I placed it way out of Bella's reach, of that much I always made certain) and walked into the kitchen to find a pajama-clad Bella sitting at the table, Valentine's cards spread out in front of her as she showed each one to Sue Clearwater, wife to my fishing buddy Harry Clearwater, and part-time babysitter to Bella. Hell, Sue was spending more time with Bella than I had lately; a big case was thisclose to some closure and, for now, manpower was in hot demand at the station.
"Bells…." I began. She hadn't yet noticed me as I leaned into the doorframe.
"Daddy!" she squealed and jumped up to hug me. Then, she returned to the table to show off her new acquisitions, "Hey, look at all these cards I got today! And candy, too!"
"Shouldn't you be in bed by now?" I asked. I was smiling, though, partly joking. I couldn't get mad at this kid even if she'd stayed up till midnight guzzling whipped cream and diet soda. Nope, it just wasn't possible.
She rolled her eyes at my question. Nine years old, and already rolling her eyes. Oh boy.
"Dad, it's only eight-thirty, and I'm nine years old! Lauren's parents don't make her go to bed until nine."
"I think what she meant to say, Charlie, is that she wanted to stay up a little bit longer just so she could see her Daddy before she went to bed."
"Yeah, I'm sure that's it." I laughed, but it wasn't very genuine. "Thanks again for watching her, Sue. I know how hard it is to leave Seth and Leah, and this means a lot to me. I hope that this mess will be all wrapped up within the week. And maybe I'll get that promotion after the chief retires. Then, I'll have a lot more free time for Bellsy here." I ruffled her hair.
"I really don't mind. I could use a break from Leah and Seth's bickering. And I do hope things work out well, Charlie."
"Me too, Daddy."
"Yeah, me three, kiddo."
July 11, 2002 (Bella is twelve.)
"Come on, Bells. I'll take you to the 'rez' if you're so bored."
"Thanks for the offer, but I'm not bored, Dad. I've told you that repeatedly."
"Bella, there's no one around here that you can play with, nothing on TV, and you refused to play any of the recreational sports you had the chance for. You've had nothing to do but sit at home. It's nigh impossible for you to not be bored."
"False. There are people around here, Dad. The population's less than twenty-five-hundred, and Forks isn't exactly a sprawling metropolis. It's nigh impossible for there to be no one for me to play with. It's just that I don't have anything in common with any of these people. And you know why I passed on the sports. I mean, I've broken three bones in the past two years, just while taking a walk. Why test fate by adding running or jumping or swinging a wooden death stick to the mix?"
"Does it cause you physical pain to be so sarcastic?"
"Yes, but it's bearable. Can I get back to my summer reading now?"
"Summer reading? That's what's keeping you so entertained?"
"Yes, Dad. Wuthering Heights, to be specific. I think it could be my new favorite book."
"Shouldn't a twelve-year-old still be reading Little Golden Books or something?"
"Reading what?"
Sigh.
"Never mind, Bells. But, promise me you will go do something that most twelve-year-olds would do on summer break. At least for a little while, okay? I'm bored for you."
"Vandalism? Drugs? What did you have in mind?"
"First of all: No, and second: most definitely not. I was thinking more along the lines of hopscotch. Or jumping rope."
"Is that what you did when you were twelve?"
"Well, no. Hopscotch and jump rope aren't very manly things, sweetie."
"Oh, so now I can only do womanly things? Should I darn your socks or iron your uniforms when I get done with the cooking and cleaning?"
"Yeah, and, while you're at it, I've got a couple of shirts that need patching up…."
Bella socked me playfully in the arm; it actually somewhat hurt; I was proud.
"Hey, you could get arrested for abusing the police chief."
"Nah. Everybody at the station likes me more than they like you, anyhow."
"Oh. Is that a fact?"
"Just a well-circulated rumor."
I laughed. "I love you, kid."
"You too, Dad," she said and then turned back to her book.
August 29, 2003 (Bella is thirteen.)
I came home from work to find Bella on the couch, crying and being comforted by Sue. I instantly went into fatherly-panic mode. I'd seen more than my share of gruesome violence as chief of police and I'd remained stoic throughout it all. However, seeing my daughter upset shattered any pretense of being indifferent to potential strife.
"Bella, honey, what's wrong?" I asked, rushing to her side.
Sue locked eyes with me and discreetly shook her head.
Nothing to be worried about, she seemed to say, and I instantly relaxed.
"She just doesn't feel good," Sue told me. "Bella, doll, why don't you go lay down for a few minutes, okay?"
Bella nodded. "Thank you, Sue."
"You're very welcome, sweetie."
Sue remained on the couch, and I remained standing in front of her until it was certain Bella was upstairs and, hopefully, out of hearing range.
"What's going on, Sue?"
"Oh, Charlie. She came home from school today, and she found a rather unwelcome surprise when she used the bathroom. So, she…. Charlie? You still with me?"
"Actually, you kind of lost me at 'unwelcome surprise'."
Sue sighed and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "Men: can't live without them, can't kill them."
"Her menstrual cycle, Charlie. The first ever. It spooked her, understandably. So, knowing she couldn't talk to you about it, for reasons that are now obvious to me, she decided to call her mother."
"So, she's crying because of her…. Little visitor?"
"You remind me of Harry when Leah first got her period. Except you're missing the sense of relief he had at the fact that now there was something to blame Leah's moods on," Sue chuckled, remembering. "Anyway, no, that's not why. Well, not completely. She called her mother, seeking some sort of advice, or consolation, or maybe just some reassurance that she still had a mother. My guess is a combination of all three, really…," Sue said. It sounded suspiciously like she was rambling on, avoiding something.
"Sue, what aren't you telling me?"
She stopped mid-sentence and gaped at me, a little.
"I'm a police officer, Sue."
Sue studied her hands as she said, "Charlie, Renee's pregnant. She's getting married, apparently, and moving to Florida with her new husband. She said Bella's welcome any time, but apparently she didn't actually sound all that welcoming."
I was slightly flabbergasted and didn't speak for a while. No wonder Bella was upset.
"Thank you, Sue," I finally managed. "Uh, are Bella's… lady products taken care of?"
"Yes, Charlie, everything she'll need is in supply. Are you two going to be alright?"
That was a good question. Bella and I had grown accustomed to the fact that Renee was gone, but this new news really solidified the truth that she wasn't coming back. A harsh truth. However, Bella and I had made it through this mess so far, and we weren't going to stop now.
"Yeah, Sue. We will."
September 18, 2008 (Bella is seventeen.)
Bella sat across from me at the diner table. We'd been talking for the last hour as she devoured a salad and I devoured a hamburger.
"Pass the ketchup, please," I said. As she did, I asked my next question, "So, Bells, any boys catching your fancy yet this year?"
She stayed silent, which was Swan-code for affirmative. This kid couldn't hide anything.
"I'll take that as a yes," I said. A blush rose in her cheeks and she rolled her eyes.
"What do you know about the Cullen family, Dad? Besides Dr. Cullen. Him I know quite well."
"So it's one of the Cullen boys, eh?"
"Just answer the question, please."
Before answering, I took a bite of my burger and then washed it down with a sip of my tasty beverage. The look of suspense on Bella's face was priceless, but the look soon turned to annoyance as my straw sucked at the bottom of the empty glass. When it stopped being amusing, I put my cup down.
"Well, Dr. Cullen and his wife Esme you've already met. They have two adopted daughters: Alice and Rosalie, and three adopted sons: Jasper, Emmett, and Edward." I noted that Bella's blush just slightly deepened at the mention of Edward's name.
Hmm. I guess she could do worse.
I continued then, "The Cullens keep to themselves mostly, and although the general consensus is that the Cullens are a bunch of weirdos, they're each some of the nicest people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. Except for the twins. They can be a little stand-offish, but I'm sure that will change once you get to know them," I leaned back in my chair and motioned to the waitress that it was time for dessert. "So, Edward Cullen…." I began.
"Dad, we're just talking right now. I've never really been able to get to know him before, and we're taking some of the same advanced classes. I really like him, so far."
"Good, Bells. You could do much worse. But, you will bring him home before you go anywhere with him, and I'll check to make sure you have a new canister of mace."
"My other one's still full."
"Good. Take it, too, just in case. You never know what kind of shenanigans you might get into with this kid. It's always the quiet ones…."