Rainbow of Gold
A/N: I know I'm ten days late but I got to thinking about everything that makes St. Patrick's Day brilliant and thought Bella should get a chance to enjoy it all too. The time frame is a bit off but nothing too glaringly off that would interfere with the simple plot.
Disclaimer: I, reluctantly, have to admit that none of these characters are mine, but are the lovely imaginings of Stephenie Meyer.
Chapter One: Kiss Me, I'm Irish!
There was a light knock at the front door.
I rushed to put on my warm jacket, socks, and shoes, making lots of noise and threatening to break my neck in the process. I had to sit down on my bed to put on my footwear to ensure my continued existence. Downstairs, I heard Charlie pause the recording of yesterday's baseball game.
"Don't bother, Bella," he called up to me. His footsteps neared the front door. "I've got it."
That's what worried me.
"Oh," Charlie paused when he opened the door and saw who it was. "You again." He didn't open the door any wider.
"Hello, sir," a melodious voice answered, politely. "Happy St. Patrick's Day."
He'd never really forgiven Edward for leaving me. Even now, the middle of March, when Edward and his family had returned a little over a year ago, Charlie was usually less than civil towards Edward. Don't get me wrong, Charlie was perfectly friendly and warm towards Alice and Carlisle, since he'd missed the doctor and the eternally chipper Alice, but he always watched Edward with hostile eyes and made churlish comments. I scolded my father like he was an unhousetrained puppy when he was unpleasant to Edward, but he, similar to a stubborn puppy, ignored me.
"He left you on your birthday, Bella. Your birthday. I can't like a boy who hurts my daughter like that!" He would say, mulishly, reproachfully. "And he expects you to welcome him back with open arms. Hah!"
I could only disagree, tell him there'd been a misunderstanding and it had been, in fact, two days after my birthday. I know Charlie was just looking out for me. But I couldn't bear the way it upset Edward and made him speculate that Charlie was right. So Charlie only put up with Edward because I threatened to leave if he forbade me from being with him.
I rushed down the stairs, noticing that Charlie had barred the entrance with his body and hadn't let Edward in from the chilly March air. Of course Edward wouldn't notice the cold, unlike Charlie or I, but the snub couldn't be missed. Charlie was staring at Edward who had a respectfully blank look on his face, even if my father's actions were blatantly disrespectful.
"Bella," Edward greeted, turning towards me and smiling, warmth coloring his voice as he said my name. I grinned at him.
"Bella," Charlie echoed, only his voice was disapproving.
"Dad," I said sternly, "You said I could spend today with Edward."
"When did I say that?" He sounded outraged at the suggestion that he'd promise such a thing.
"Last night when that other baseball game was on TV."
Charlie frowned, trying to remember. The truth was, I'd asked him during the very last seconds of the game and he'd probably been too distracted to realize what he was agreeing to, which had been my sneaky plan.
Charlie opened his mouth to object further.
"Don't worry, Chief Swan," Edward interjected smoothly and soothingly. "Bella will be well looked after and we will have adult supervision at all times. Carlisle took today off to enjoy with Esme and they would love to catch up with Bella."
"Alice will be there too," I added.
"Well…" Charlie relented, no doubt reflecting on how Carlisle wouldn't let anything immoral happen in his house.
I took that as a yes. "Okay, thanks, goodbye, Dad," I gave him a kiss on the cheek as I simultaneously pushed past him out the door. The crisp air caught me by surprise and I almost fell down the front step. One of Edward's marble hands reached out to catch me as I passed him. He didn't blink, but his mouth twitched upwards.
"I'll have her home by nightfall, sir," he said responsibly before Charlie could make the very same order himself.
Charlie watched us, scowling and muttering at the sight of Edward's guiding hand on my arm. Edward let go, but only to relocate his hand behind my back, where no contact was made, but he could catch me if I made one of my spectacular stumbles again.
It probably wouldn't be a wise idea to kiss him with Charlie's eagle eye still watching, I speculated, so I behaved myself as we walked to Edward's shiny Volvo. He opened the car door for me and as I slide in I glanced at his face; a small frown on his flawless features had suddenly appeared and it made me frown.
Edward didn't say a word as he turned on the purring engine, switched on the heater for me and then pulled out onto my street. Both of his hands gripped the steering wheel firmly. He wouldn't look at me and he hid his frown behind a stony expression. A few moments elapsed in silence.
I surveyed his face carefully, angling myself towards him. His eyes never left the road.
There was no denying it. Edward was upset.
I sighed. "What was Charlie thinking this time?"
He didn't answer but seemed surprised at my question. I don't know why. The only things that trouble Edward are my thoughts when I tell them to him or the thoughts of others. Since I hadn't said anything I knew it was the latter.
"Well?" I pressed.
"Charlie abhors me, Bella," he said quietly. "Every time he sees you with me, waves of hate and resentment resonate in my mind. It is…so much more than the juvenile dislike I hear in Newton's thoughts. More than the loathing in your friend Jacob's consciousness. It is similar to the detestation and anger a mother may have for the steadfast household pet who suddenly mauls her innocent child when only a second ago it had been licking the child's face."
He turned to look at me. His voice and face was the embodiment of pain. "Charlie thinks of me as an anathema."
I could tell there was more that he wasn't saying. That Charlie thought he was no good for me, that I would be better off if I'd never met him, and that he'd only break my heart again. But Edward wouldn't bring these ideas up again—I vehemently refuted it whenever he did. But simply because he wouldn't voice his worries didn't mean he didn't brood on them.
He was a martyr to his thoughts of how he might unintentionally hurt me.
"Edward—" I began. I touched his knee gently. "Edward, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what Charlie thinks. Or anyone else. You and I know the truth. Just give Charlie a bit more time. He'll realize it too. I love you."
He was inexorable in his beliefs, though. I could see it in the set of Edward's granite jaw that nothing I'd said had put an end to his worries. If anything though, I had placated him and he put his brooding aside. His mouth softened and his eyes were peaceful again. Edward brought my hand to his face and rested his cool cheek against my palm. He inhaled deeply.
"And I you," he murmured, kissing my palm and then releasing me. My heart fluttered in my chest. His dark mood instantly brightened. A sparkle lit his golden eyes.
"Don't be mad," he commanded lightly. I raised an eyebrow, confused but simply glad that I'd somehow brought him out of his sulk. "But Alice thought we should treat you to a Cullen's St. Patrick's Day."
I gaped at him. "What? Why?"
"You know how Alice enjoys making a grand celebration out of everything." He rolled his eyes indulgently at her antics. We neared the house.
"But you're not Irish."
Edward smiled contradictorily. "Actually, I am. Was. Cullen is Irish for holly, I believe."
He ran a hand through his bronze hair and turned the engine off. I suddenly remembered that his eyes had been emerald green when he was human.
"Oh." I unbuckled my seatbelt. "What happened to your accent, then?" I teased.
"Went with the green eyes, it did," he answered in a lilting Irish accent, voice more silvery than usual.
"That's not the right inflection," I accused, thinking the brogue would be more along the lines of "Top o' the mornin!" and "boyo," than a vernacular that was only a bit more tuneful than normal. I wasn't disappointed though. Edward's voice was always, literally, music to my ears.
Edward laughed loudly and was out the car and by my side of the car in an instant. He helped me to my feet and held me unusually close. "Forgive me if I don't conform to the media's stereotype of the drunken unintelligible Irishman!"
I tilted my face up so I could see his eyes. Edward was smiling the crooked inviting smile I knew and loved so well. It was a happy replacement from his troubled yet unresponsive guise earlier.
My hands were captured between us otherwise I would have touched his granite cheek. He lowered his face to mine and the perfume of his breath and body made me lightheaded. His cool lips skimmed my lower jaw and I tried to stand perfectly still, fighting the overwhelming desire to reach up and wrap my arms around his neck. His lips moved along my lower jaw to the side of my mouth and I felt him press a very gentle kiss on my lips.
I sighed as he let go of me, taking my hand and leading me to the front steps. "Dirty Irish vampire," I muttered chagrinned that he'd stopped so abruptly.
Edward smirked.