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Chapter One
Five Years Earlier
"See, it's simple," Riley said. "First you meet a nice girl, and then you date fora while to make sure you share the same values. See if you two are compatible in the big, 'this is our life and we're in it together' decisions. You know, talk about which family you're going to visit on the holidays, whether you want to live in a house or an apartment, whether to get a dog or a cat, who gets to use the shower first in the morning, while there's still plenty of hot water. If you two are still pretty much in agreement, then you get married. Are your following me here?"
"I'm following you," Edward said
Edward Cullen and Riley Byers were standing in Edward's Upper West Side apartment on a cool Saturday afternoon in February. They'd been packing for hours, and boxes were strewn everywhere. Some of the boxes were already filled and had been stacked near the door, ready for the moving van; otheres were in various stages of completion. All in all, it looked as if a Tasmanian devil had burst through the door, had himself a party then left once there was nothing else to be destroyed. Edward couldn't believe how much junk he'd accumulated over the years, a fact that his fiancee, Bella Swan, had been pointing out this morning. Twenty mintues ago, after throwing up her hands in frustration, Bella had gone to lunch with Edward's mother, leaving Edward and Riley alone for the first time.
"So what on earth do you think you're doing?" Riley prodded.
"Just what you said."
"No you're not. You're messing up the order. You're going straight for the 'I do' before you even figured out whether you two are right for each other. You barely know Bella."
Edward shoved another drawer's worth of clothing into a box, wishing Riley would change the subject "I know her"
Riley began shuffling through a few papers on Edward's desk, then shoved the stack ino the same box Edward was loading. As Edward's best friend, he felt free to speak his mind.
"I'm just trying to be honest here, and you should know that I'm saying what everyone else in your family has been thinking in the past few weeks. The point is you don't know her well enough to move there, let alone marry her. You only spent a week with her. This isn't like you and Kate." he added, referring to Edward's ex. "Remember, I knew Kate, too, a whole lot better than you know Bella, but I still never felt as if I knew her well enough to marry her."
Edward removed the pages and put them back on his desk, recalling that Jasper had known Kate even before he had and still remained friends with her. "So?"
"So? What if I was doing this? What if I came to you and said I met this great lady, so I'm giving up my career, abandoning my friends and family, and moving down south so I can marry her? Like that gal...what's her name Victoria?"
Victoria worked at Bella's grandmother's restaurant, and Riley had hit on her during his short visit to Forks, going so far as to invite her to Chicago.
"I'd say that I was happy for you."
"Puh-lease. Don't you remember what you said when I was thinking about marrying Bree?"
"I remember. But this is different."
"Oh yeah, I get it. Because you're more mature than me."
"That and the fact that Bree wasn't exactly that marrying type."
This was true, Riley admitted. While Bella was a small-town librarian, someone hoping to settle down, Bree was a tattoo artist in Jeresy City. She was the woman that who'd done all of Riley's tattoos on his didn't bother Riley; it was the live-in boyfriend that she'd neglected to tell him about that finally doomed their relationship.
"Even Kate thinks this is crazy!"
"You told her?"
"Of course I told her. We talk about everything "
"I'm glad you're so close to my ex-wife. But it's none of her business. Or yours."
"I'm just trying to talk some sense into you. This is happening too fast. You don't know Bella."
"Why do you keep saying that?"
"I'm going to keep saying it until you finally admit that you two are basically strangers."
Riley, like Edward's five older brothers, had never learned how to drop a subject. The man was like a dog with a bone, Edward decided.
"She's not a stranger."
"No? Then what's her middle name?"
"What?"
"You heard me. Tell me Bella's middle name."
Edward blinked. "What's that got to do with anything?"
"Nothing. But if you're going to marry her, don't you think you should be able to answer the questions?"
Edward opened his mouth to answer, then realized he didn't know. Bella never told him, nor had he ever asked. Riley, as if sensing that he was finally getting through to his delusional friend, pressed on.
"Okay, how about the basics? What was her major in college? Who were her friends in college? What's her favorite color? Does she like white or whole-wheat bread? What's her favorite movie or television show? Who's her favorite author? Do you even know how old she is?"
"She's in her thirties." Edward offered.
"In her thirties? I could have told you that."
"I'm pretty sure she's thirty-one."
"You're 'pretty sure'? Can you even hear how ridiculous you sound? You can't marry someone if you don't even know how old she is."
Edward opened another drawer and emptied it into another box, knowing that Riley had a point but not wanting to admit it. Instead, he drew a long breath.
"I thought you were happy I finally found someone," he said
"I am happy for you. But I didn't think you were actually going to move from Chicago and decide to marry her. I thought you were kidding about that. You know I think she's a great lady. She really is, and if you're still this serious about her in a year or two, I'll drag you down the aisle myself. You're rushing things, and there's no reason to"
Edward turned toward the window; beyond the glass he saw a gray, soot-covered bricks framing the functional, rectangular windows of a neighboring building. Shadowed images swept past; a lady talking on a phone; a man wrapped in a towel headed for the bathroom; another women ironing as she watched television. In all the time he'd lived here, he'd never said so much as a hello to any of them.
"She's pregnant," he finally said
For a moment Riley thought he hadn't heard correctly. It was when he saw the expression on his friend's face that he realized Edward wasn't kidding.
"She's pregnant?"
"It's a girl."
Riley plopped down on the bed as if his legs had suddenly given out. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Edward shrugged. "She asked me not to tell anyone, yet. So keep it a secret, will you?"
"Yeah" Riley said, sounding dazed. "Sure"
"And one more thing."
Riley looked up.
Edward reached for his shoulder. "I'd like for you to be my best man."
How had it happened?
Strolling with Bella as she explored mall the next day, he still had trouble answering that question. Not the pregnancy part; that was a night he'd probably remember forever. Despite the brave front he'd put on for Riley, it sometimes felt as if he were about to play a part in a crowd-pleasing romantic comedy, one in which anything was possible and nothing was certain until the final credits rolled.
What happened to him, after all, didn't usually happen. In fact, it almost nevered happened. Who travels to a small town to write an article for Scientific American, meets a small-town librarian, and falls head over heels in just a few days? Who decides to leave behind a chance at morning television and life in Chicago to move to Forks, Washington, a town that was nothing more than a hiccup on the map?
So many questions these days.
Not that he was second-guessing himself about what he was about to do. In fact, he watched Bella sorting through stacks of GI Joes and Barbies - she wanted to surprise his many nieces and nephews with gifts in the hope of making a good impression- he felt more certain than ever about his decision. He smiled, already visualizing the kind of life was about to settle into. Quiet dinners, romantic walks, giggling and cuddling in front of the television. Good stuff, stuff that made life worthwhile. He wasn't naive enough to believe they'd never have an argument or struggle, but he had no doubt they would navigate those rough water successfully, realizing in the end that they were perfectly matched. In the big picture, life would be wonderful.
But Bella nudged past him, lost in concentration Edward found himself staring at another couple standing by a pile of stuffed animals. Actually, the couple was impossible not to notice. They were in their early thirties and sharply dressed; he had the air of an investment banker or an attorney, while his wife came accross like someone who spent every afternoon at Bloomingdale's. They were loaded with half a dozen bags from half a dozen different stores. The diamond on her finger was the size of a marble-a far larger than the engagement ring he'd just purchased for Bella. As Edward watched, he had no doubt that they ususally brought along a nanny on an outing like this, simply because they seemed completely bewildered as to what they were supposed to do.
The baby in the stroller was screaming, the kind of piercing wail that peeled wallpaper and made others in the store stop in their tracks. At exactly the same time, her older brother-maybe four or so- was screaming even more loudly and suddenly threw himself down on the floor. The parents wore the panicked, shell-shocked expressions of soldiers under fire, and it was impossible not to notice the bags under their eyes and the translucent pallor of their faces. Despite the impeccalbe facade they were plainly at the end of their rope. The mother finally worked at the baby to free from the stroller and held the infant against her as the husband leaned down toward here, patting the baby on the back.
"Don't you think I'm trying to quiet her down?" she barked. "Deal with Elliot!"
Chastised, the man bent down toward his sone, who was still kicking and pounding on the floor, throwing the mother of all temper trantrums.
"Stop that screaming right now!" the husband said sternly shaking his finger.
Oh yeah, Edward thought. Like that's going to do it. Elliot meanwhile, was turning purple as he writhed on the floor. By that point, even Bella had stopped browsing and turned her attention to the couple. It was, Edward thought, sort of like sarting at a woman who mowed her lawn in her bikini, the kind of spectacle impossible to ingnore. The baby screamed, Elliot screamed, the wife screamed at the father to do something, the father screamed back that he was trying.
A crowd had gathered, ringing the happily family. The women seemed to be watching them with a mixture of tankfulness and pity; thankful that it wasn't happening to them, but knowing= most likely from experience=exactly what the young couple was going through. The men, on the other hand, seemed to want nothing more than to get as fasr away from the noise as possible.
Eillot banged his head on the floor and began to scream even louder.
"Let's just go!" the mother finally snapped.
"Don't you think that's what I'm trying to do?" the father barked.
"Pick him up."
"I'm trying!" he shouted in exasperation
Elliot wanted no part of his father. As his father finally grabbed him. Elliot wiggled like an angry snake. His head flailed from side to side, and his legs never stopped moving. Beads of sweat began to form on his father's forehead, and he was grimacing with the effort. Elliot, on the other had, seemed to be getting larger, a mini Huld expanding with rage.
Somehow the parents wer able to get moving, weighed down with shopping bags, pushing the stoller, and managing to keep hold of both children. The crowd parted as if Moses were approaching the Red Sea, and the family finally vanished from sight, the slowly fading wails the only evidence they'd ever been there.
Ther crowd began to disperse. Edward and Bella, howere stood frozen in place.
"Those poor people." said Edward, suddenly wondering if this was what his life would be like in a couple of years.
"You're telling me," Bella agreed, as if fearful of the same thing.
Edward continued to starte, listening as the wailing finally ceased. The family must have left the store.
"Our child will never throw a tantrum like that ." Edward announced.
"Never." Consiciously or subconsciously, Bella had placed her had on her belly. "That definitely wasn't normal."
"And the parents didn't seem to have any idea what they were doing?" Edward said. "Did you see him trying to talk to his son? Like he was in the boardroom?"
"Ridiculous" Bella nodded. "And the way they were snapping at each other? Kids can sense the tension. No wonder the parents couldn't control them."
"It's like they had no idea what to do."
"I don't think they did."
"How could they not?"
"Maybe they're just too caught up in their own lives to take enough time with their children"
Edward, still frozen in place, watched the last of the crowd vanish, "It definitely wasn't normal," he offered again.
"That's exactly what I was thinking."
Okay, so they were deluding themselves. Deep down Edward knew it, Bella knew it, but is was easier to pretend that they would never be confronted with a situation like the one they witnessed. Because they were going to be more prepared. More dedicated. Kinder and more patient. More loving.
And the child...well, she would thrive in the envioronment he and Bella would create. There was no doubt about that. As an infant, she'd sleep through the night; as a toddler, she would delight with her early vocabulary and above average motor skills. She would maneuver the mindfields of adolescence with aplomb, stay away from drugs, and frown on R-rated movies. By the time she left home, she would be polite and well mannered, she would have recieved high enough grades to be accepted to Harvard, become an all-American in swimming, and still would have found enough time during the summers to volunteer for Habitat for Humanity.
Edward clung to the fantasy until his shoulders slumped. Despite having zero experience in the parenting department, he knew it couldn't be that easy. Besides he was getting way ahead of himself.
An hour later, they were sitting in the back of a cab, stuck in traffic, Bella was thumbing through a recently purchased copy of What to Except When You're Expecting as Edward watched the world beyond the windows. It was their last night in Chicago- he'd brought Bella up to meet his family- and his parents were planning a small get-together at their home. Small, of course, was a relative term; with five brothers and their wives and nineteen nieces and nephews, the house would be packed, as it often was. Even though Edward was looking forward to it, he couldn't qutie get his mind off the couple they'd just seen. They'd seemed so...normal. Aside from the exhaustion, that is. he wondered whether he and Bella would end up that way or whether they'd somehow be spared.
Maybe Riley had been right. Partially anyway. Though he adored Bella- and he was sure he did, or he wouldn't have proposed- he couldn't claim to really know her. They simply hadn't had time for that, and the more he thought about it, the more he believed that it would have been nice for him and Bella to have had a chance to be regular couple for a while. He's been married before, and he knew if took time to learn how to live with another person. To get used to the quirks, so to speak. Everyone had them, but until you really knew someone, they tended to be hidden. He wondered what Bella's were. For instance, what if she slept with one of those green mask that were supposed to keep wrinkles at bay? Whould he really be happy waking up and seeing that every morning?
"What are you thinking about?" Bella asked.
"Huh?"
"I asked what you're thinking about. You have funny expression on your face."
"It's nothing"
She started at him "Big nothing, or nothing-nothing"
He turned to face her, "What's your middle name?"
Over the next few mintues, Edward went through the series of questions Riley had proposed and learned the following; Her middle name was Marie; she had a majored in English; her best friend in college was named Angela; purple was her favorite color; she preferred whole wheat; she like watching Trading Spaces; she thought Jane Austen was fabulous; and she would, in face turn thirty-two on September 13.
So there. He leaned back in his seat, satisfied, as Bella continued to thumb through the book. She wasn't actullay reading it, he figured, just skimming passages here and there in hopes of getting some sort of head start. He wondered if she had done something similar whenever she had to study in college.
As Riley had implied, there really was a lot about her that he didn't know. But at the same time, there was a great deal he did know. An only child, she'd been raised in Forks, Washington. Her parents were killed in an automobile accident when she was young, and she had been raised by her maternal grandparents, Marie and ...and...He decided he'd have to ask about that. Anyway, she'd gone to college at the University of Washington in Seattle, been in love with a guy named James, and actually lived in Chicago for a year, where she'd interned at the Chicago library. James needed up cheating on here, and she went back home and became the head librarian in Forks, as her mother had been before she'd passed away. Some time later, she'd fallen for someone she referred to vaguely as Mr. Renaissance, but he'd left town without looking back. Since then she'd led a quiet life, dating the local deputy sheriff now and then, until Edward came along. And oh yeah; Marie- who owened a restaurant in Forks- also claimed to have psychic powers, including the ability to predict the sex of babies, which is how Bella knew their baby would be a girl.
All of which, he admitted, everyone in Forks also knew. But did they also know that she tucked her hair behind her ears whenever she got nervous? Or that she was a wonderful cook? Or that when she needed a break, she liked to retreat to a cottage near First Beach, where her parents had been married? Or that in addition in being both intelligent and beautiful, with brown eyes, and a heartshaped face, and dark brown hair, she had seen right through his him-fisted attempts to charm her into the bedroom? He liked the fact that Bella didn't let him get away with anything, spoke hr mind, and stood up to him when she thought he was in error. Somehow, she was able to do those things while still projecting a charm and femininity that was underscored by a sultry northern accent. Add in the fact that she was downright stunning in tight jeans, and Edward had fallen head of heels.
And as for him? What could she say she knew about him? Most of the basics, he thought. that he'd grown up in Chicago as the youngest of six in an Irish-Italian family and that he'd once intended to become a doctor but realized he had a knack for writing and ended up becoming a columnist for Scientific American where he often debunked the allegedly supernatural. That he'd been married years earlier to a woman named Kate, who eventually left him after they'd made numerous trips to a fertility clinic and were finally told by a doctor that Edward was medically unable to to father a child. That he'd spent too many years afterward trolling the bars and dating countless women, trying to avoid serious relationships, as if subconsciously knowing he couldn't be a good husband. That at the age of thirty-seven he'd gone to Forks to investigate the regular appearance of ghostly light in the town cemetery in the hope of landing a guest commentator gig on Good Morning America but found that he spent most of his time thinking of Bella. They'd spent four enchanting days together followed by a heated argument, and though he'd headed back to Chicago, he'd realized that he couldn't live without her and he returned to prove it to her. In exchange, sh had placed his had on her belly, and finally became a true believer- at least when it came to the miracle of pregnacy and a chance of fatherhood, something he'd never considered possible.
He smiled, thinking it was a pretty good story. Maybe even good enough for a novel.
The point was, as much as she'd tried to resist his charms, she'd fallen for him too. Glancing over at her, he wondered why. Not that he considered himself repulsive, but what was it that drew two people together? In the past, he'd written numerous columns about the principle of attraction and could discuss the rold of pheromones, dopamine, and biological instincts, but none of this came close to explaining the way he felt about Bella. Or presumably the way she felt about him. Nor could he explain it. All he knew was that they fit somehow and that he felt as if he'd spent most of his life traveling a path that led inexorably to her.
It was a romantic vison, even poetic, and Edward had never been prone to poetic thoughts. Maybe that was another reason he knew she was the one. Because she'd opened his heart and mind to new feelings and ideas. But whatever the reason, as he rode in the car with his lovely bride-to-be, he was content with whatever might happen to them in the future.
He reached for her hand. Did it really matter, after all, that he was abandoning his home in Chicago and putting his future career plans on hold to move to the middle of nowhere? Or that he was about to embark on a year in which he had a plan a wedding, set up a household, and prepare for a baby?
How hard could it be?
