a/n: Hello again! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorite, followed or simply took the time to read the first chapter of my little story here. It brings me a great sense of joy to know my work is being read. Anyways, here is chapter two. I like to have the majority of the next chapter written before I publish the last one. So expect chapter three shortly. Once again, all comments and concerns are appreciated. Enjoy!
"Enchanted"
That morning was hell. Bella rose from her bed letting the sun streaming from her window soak into her skin. It was today that she was leaving her childhood room behind in favor of a small town and a sick father. She packed up her life into two small suitcases, including the few possessions she couldn't bear to leave behind. Renee failed to keep her emotions in check, sighing longingly as they prepared to leave. They both understood that the younger woman was doing the right thing. As much as she loved her Mom, she could not give her any more comfort than a silence kiss on Renee's soft cheek. It was the same kiss Renee would give her in the rare times Bella would be too scared to sleep. It wasn't much, but she seemed to appreciate it nonetheless.
Bella's hands quiver, alerting her to her own nervousness. It wasn't because of the curve ball life had just thrown at her. No, the slightly sick feeling in the pit of her stomach was caused by the idea of stepping onto the plane. She had always been the brave one. Living with her Mother, she had been the one to kill spiders and take out the trash. During a storm she would quietly sneak into her Mom's room, not because she needed the comfort, but knew that Renee would. But the thought of being strapped into a seat ten thousand feet in the air was enough to make her heart thrash around in her chest.
She could feel it, the anxious, restless sensation as soon as Renee's beat up old car reached the curb of the airport. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Renee asked as the car rested forward after being placed in park. The door squeaked as it opened, a small reminder that she was indeed leaving.
"Yes." Bella murmured, fleeing the safety of the car as she dreaded the emotional scene she could sense was coming. But as if she was oblivious to Bella's reluctance, Renee was at her side in a moment, before she even had the chance to grab her bags.
The woman took her daughter into her arms, giving her the kind of hug only a Mother could give. "You let me know if you need anything." She muttered through the tears she had not let fall. "I mean it. Say the word, and you can come home."
Bella nodded into her shoulder, not daring to say a single word. She knew that Renee had meant it. But one thing that she failed to understand is that Bella wasn't worried about being homesick. In her eyes, she was going home. It took a while, but she finally extricated herself from her Mother before the woman had the chance to make herself sick with grief. With shaking hands, she waved to Renee and walked into the terminal.
The trip itself was quick but even knowing that didn't help the nerves Bella felt. The second the plane had left the ground, she was daydreaming about the green lush that covered the small town of Forks, Washington. She longed to be on the ground, breathing in the distinctive kind of fresh air that came with being surrounded by that many trees. She kept her eyes closed almost the entire time, in hopes of being blissfully unaware of her surroundings. She imagined she was sitting in the woods, surrounded by fragrant flowers as the sun barely broke through the trees to illuminate the pages of her favorite book. She would take that over an airplane any day.
It was midafternoon by the time she finally stepped off of the plane. The feeling of dread, which had sat with her the entire trip, departed and was replaced by a calming sense of relief. This place had become a safe haven for her, so to speak. If ever there had been a time she had to get away from everything- Phoenix, the suffocating sun, Renee and all of her last minute antics, she was only a short plane ride away from Forks. This was where her existence had begun. This was where her Father had taken her Mother after they first got married. Where they had tried to build a life together and where she had been born. She tried not to think of the failures that had happened here, too. This had been where her parents had fallen out of love, and where her Mother and left her Father for the last time. Those things didn't take away from the beauty that was around her, they added to it. The disappointments that had taken place here gave the old town a more personal sense of history. A sense of home.
Her eyes searched the terminal for Charlie, straining to see past the masses of people welcoming their loved ones off of the plane. Being a basic type of man, he doesn't stand out at first. It is not until Bella made her way around several people embracing that she finally spots him, standing against the window away from the chaos of receptions. She smiles and heads straight for him. But it isn't until she gets closer that she can see the changes the sickness has caused. He seems skinnier, his police uniform fitting looser around his torso and shoulders. He looks older, much older than the last time she saw him. But what worries her most of all is the look of pure exhaustion in his eyes. It strikes her that the wall seems to be holding him up. The realization makes her sick to her stomach.
He looks up as she approaches, and she notices some light come back into his eyes. Even growing up away from Charlie, she was a duplicate of her Father. Both the type to avoid conflict, and public shows of affection. Neither of them are hugging people. But upon reaching him, she abandons her bags and sinks into her Father's arms. She hugs him as tightly as she thinks he can handle. And as thrown off as he is at first, he returns her hold.
"Welcome home, kid." He pulls away from her after a moment.
He reaches out to grab her bags, but she flat out refuses to let him take them. "No way, old man." She teases. But in reality, she doesn't want to see him struggle to carry her things.
The drive from Port Angeles to Forks isn't a long one, and is spent mostly in silence. Neither of them feeling the need for unnecessary conversation, it was a comfortable trip. Bella let out of a breath of relief upon reaching her childhood home. Nothing was different. From the divot in the small lawn from the time Charlie had tried to teach her to kick a football to the small bed of flowers she had planted in an effort to add some color to the grey house. It was all the same, and it gave her a sense of belonging.
The only thing that was different was the truck that sat in the driveway. A mammoth of a truck, the color of full-bodied rust, looking like it had survived the First World War. She couldn't take her eyes off of it, even as she retrieved her bags. It was Charlie's whistle that took her attention away from it.
"Hey Bells." He hardly gave her time to respond before throwing a dangling object in her direction. "Think fast!"
He had always wanted a sports loving child, but was never disappointed in Bella's lack of hand eye coordination. Even when the keys dropped at her feet. She picked them up and studied them carefully. "Every teenager needs a car, especially one as clumsy as you." He laughed whole wholeheartedly. "I can't have you walking with the rain."
"Thank you, Dad." She was incredibly touched, but knew Charlie needed little more than a thank you. "I am hardly a teenager, though."
"You've always been an adult, Bella. Even as a kid. Always the one to make the tough decisions." He had always admired his daughter for her unfound maturity. When Charlie and Renee had divorced, Bella had been no more than four years old. He would never forget when he said goodbye to her, Bella's small hands wrapped around his neck. She had apologized to him, explaining as a small child could: "She needs me more, Dad."
Charlie unlocked the door, letting his daughter bring her luggage in and into the room at the top of the stairs, which had always belonged to her. Not being on to hover, he let her settle for a few minutes before hitching his belt higher on his waist.
"Well, I'm off to the station for a little bit."
Bella instantly stood up, but in reality she knew there was no amount of insisting that would change the outcome. The sickness was evident in his eyes, even he couldn't deny that. Charlie's sense of honor and loyalty to the town he had spent his entire life in ran deep in his soul, that much she was sure of.
"Now Bella." Charlie started. She knew the words before he spoke them. "The law doesn't stop needing to be enforced just because of a few pesky germs."
He left without more than a wave goodbye, and a promise to meet for dinner. And suddenly, Bella was left in silence. She sat on her window seal with her knees pulled up to her chest, watching the multi-color fall leaves fight with the wind as if they had a chance to begin with. This had always been her favorite time of year. The world quieted as everything prepared to start anew. She had not been able to resist the call of a large pile of autumn leaves. Renee had to pick small pieces of leaf out of her hair on a nightly basis, but never complained. It was the most child-like activity Bella ever willingly participated in.
With the memory fresh in her mind, the young woman grabbed the thickest jacket she owned and wrapped it around her delicate shoulders. She exited the house with ease, and set foot for the path behind the small house. The city had overwhelmed her at times, the high concentration of people around her would become all too much, and she would dream of disappearing down this trail. She had done this often as a child, trying to become lost in it all only to find herself back where she started. The simplicity of the swaying trees, of the sun spilling onto the lush green of the grass and weed covered ground had always been enough for her.
During all of the toughest times in her life, she had found herself here. When she learned of her parents divorce, she had disappeared on this trail for hours. It had been the day she became aware that even in the brightest light, love and dreams often died. It was a lesson she let sit in her mind now, as she walked away from the life she thought she knew.
She wasn't sure how long she walked, she just walked. It had been over a year since she had walked this trail, and was delighted to see it was very near the same. The same familiar fallen tree which she had carved her initials into lay in the same spot. The moss had grown thick over it, until it was almost unrecognizable for a moment. But she saw it for what it was, a place she could always come back to.
After an undocumented amount of time, the trail started to thin. She recognized less and less. Even though she could tell the sun was still high in the sky, the woods around her remained dark. Her surroundings were so opaque, she hardly noticed when the trees became less concentrated and revealed a clearing. She could barely bring back the childhood memories of this clearing since it was immeasurably different from the last time she had seen it. The sight in front of her was bright and colorful, vastly different from the grey and dead field it once was. The grass was vibrant and the multi-color flowers that bloomed from ground in such a way to make her question if it was in fact real. She took a timid step forward, as if she expected it all to disappear from her vision. She took a deep breath, letting the fragrant blossoms become engraved in her memory. This wasn't the field of dead dreams it had once been. Somehow, it had become a beautiful meadow.
"Can I ask what the hell you are doing here?" The hairs on the back of her neck stood up instantly as she became immobilized in the spot she stood. The unknown voice came from behind her, sounding dark and intimidating. It took everything in her to turn around and confront the man who had interrupted her moment.
Bella couldn't be surprised by the face that belonged to such a menacing voice. He stood there, his eyes as dark as midnight glaring at her. Everything about him seemed threatening. And just like that, her survival instincts kicked in. She backed up slowly at first, and watched as his face softened ever so slightly. She didn't hesitate again. She made her legs carry her as fast as possible, and ran from the danger that was radiating from this man.
"Nellie, stop!" She can hear his voice from somewhere behind her, but he doesn't follows her. She runs until her lungs are ready to explode from her chest and fall into a bloody pile on the floor. She cringes at the visual, but makes her legs run faster, further than she has sprinted in her life.
She falls to her knees in front of her Father's home, the mud soaking into her jeans. She takes in as much air as she can in a single breath, but it does no good. Which each breath, her chest only hurts more. She had never been more confused in her life. She didn't know who he was, but she had never been more scared in her life.
Her thoughts were chaotic, so jumbled she couldn't be sure of anything. But she couldn't ignore the feeling that if she had stopped, she might not have had the chance to run away.
July 1918
Edward Masen Jr. took a deep breath. His heart pounded in his chest, harder than it had in quite some time. He had reason to worry that his heart was somehow displaced and was making its way up his throat. Logically, he knew this was not the case. But no amount of logic would stop the goose bumps as they ran their way up his delicate spine. He wiped his sweaty hands on his slacks, wrinkling the paper that was wrapped around the flowers in the other hand. He had seen them in his Mother's garden as he had left for Nellie's house and did not falter in picking them. They were vibrant in color and reminded him of the pink of her cheeks.
He stood on the Carter's front porch fidgeting. He had been watching her from a distance for a few days, and knew he could not put this off any further. He had to know her. But being the proper gentleman he was raised to be, he knew what he had to do. He knocked on her door just after two that afternoon; when he was sure her Father would be home. He had just enough time to wipe the sweat beading at his forehead on the back of his hand before the door opened, revealing the man he knew to be Nellie's Father.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Carter. I'm Edward Masen." He spoke as clear as he could manage through his shaky voice. "I was wondering if you had a moment so we could speak."
Henry Carter was a tall man, who was aggressively protective of the life he had built for his family. This was all Edward knew about him. The older man scrutinized the shaking boy with his eyes, looking at him from head to toe and back to his face. This only made Edward more nervous, but he stood as tall as he could at the short lived age of seventeen. Edward didn't know what the man had seen in him, but was grateful for the words he spoke.
"Well, you better come inside then." He pushed the door back, and let the anxious boy enter the house. Edward had spent days staring at this door, wondering if he would ever be lucky enough to step through it. He took the small achievement in stride, knowing that he still had to convince this man his intentions with his daughter.
"Nellie is upstairs painting." He said firmly and with authority. Edward knew what he meant. He would not disturb his daughter for a potential suitor. "She takes her painting very seriously."
"I would not dream of interrupting her, sir." He nods, obviously taking the words into consideration. Edward clears his throat, taking the brief moment to arrange his thoughts. "I'd like to spend some time with her."
"Why?" Henry's eyes narrowed, causing the young boy to quiver.
"She's enchanting." Edward said without thinking of a proper response. He wanted to tell the truth. "She's gentle and kind; A true beauty."
Silence. The man did not say anything for several long seconds. Edward prepared himself for all outcomes, ranging from a simple no to feeling the hard surface of the man's boot as he kicked him out of the house. He ran his fingers through his hair, wishing he had cut it like his Mom had been requesting for several weeks. It seemed likely that Henry must have thought he was some type of rebel, with questionable morals.
"I suppose." Edward couldn't stop the sigh of relief from escaping his lungs. "Come back tomorrow. She'll be expecting you."
"Yes sir. Thank you sir." With a smile on his face, Edward placed the flowers on the table between the two standing men. "Please tell her these are for her. From my Mother's garden."
Not being a man of many words, Henry nodded before showing the boy out. Edward practically floated out the door and away from the house. He had never felt so light on his feet.
"Oh, Edward?" Henry called to him, bringing him back to reality if only slightly. "If you hurt her, I'll personally see you never smile like that again."
Edward didn't doubt him for a moment.
One single night had never gone so slowly. It was much like Christmas Eve, and the night before a big exam for Edward. The mix of excitement and untainted terror was all too much. He found his eyes wide open well into the darkness of the night. He needed the morning light to break through his bedroom window as much as the air in his lungs. He got out of bed with the sun, a feat not yet seen in his seventeen years.
Elizabeth Masen was in the kitchen, having just seen her husband off to work. She sat at the counter with her traditional cup of morning tea. She was astonished by the sound of eager footsteps on the stairs and was even more surprised to see the look on her son's face. Even before he spoke the words, she knew what was going through the boy's head.
"Who is she?" She asked casually, tightening the tie on her robe.
"Why do you ask that?" Edward said casually, trying to mask the look of disbelief on his face. When would he learn? You can't hide anything from your Mother.
"Oh, just the fact that you're dressed before the sun is warm." She said nonchalantly letting a small smile fall upon her lips. "And the silly school-boy in love look on your face."
"Her name is Nellie." He said as he prepared himself a cup of tea. As much as he wanted to rush straight to her house, showing up at sunrise was too overzealous even for him. "Nellie Carter."
"Henry Carter's daughter?" His Mother laughed. She had heard things about the new family in town. Mostly how protective the man was over his only daughter. "You best be careful Edward. He may just kill you."
He wished he could tell his Mother not to worry about that, but he was just as concerned. The clock was not on his side on that morning. The more he counted down the minutes until an appropriate hour, the less often they came. Finally, after what seemed like days had passed until Elizabeth kissed his forehead and wished him luck. He forced himself to count a half second in between of each step, if only to keep him from running the entire way. Even if his pace was slow, his mind ran faster than it ever had. He wondered if she would remember him, covered in dust and blush from embarrassing himself in front of her. He wondered if her hair would frame her face like it had that day, even pulled up it had fallen into her face. But mostly, Edward wondered if she would feel it to, the call of her skin to be touched by his, or the allure of realizing that he must know her?
He stood on her porch much like he had the day before, the tension in his body causing him to shake like the young boy he was afraid to admit he really was. The heavy looking door opened before he could gather the courage to knock on it. There stood Henry Carter, looking nothing if not slightly annoyed.
"You are sweating on my mahogany porch, boy." He pointed to the swing that sat in the shade of house. "Go sit down. I'll tell Nellie you have arrived."
It didn't matter how long he waited for her out there, because the second she stepped onto the porch, time stood still. Gone was the shaky nervous boy, and here was the young man who was entranced with a woman. He stood to greet her, and gracefully takes her hand as she offered it.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Edward." She said as she takes a seat on the porch. He sits next to her, far enough to be tasteful, but close enough to feel the pull of her.
Nellie doesn't say anything more, taking to chipping the dried paint off of her fingers. She looks anywhere but his face, hiding the betraying color of her cheeks.
"Are you an artist?" He asked even though he is already sure of the answer.
"Oh, I don't know about that. But I do enjoy painting." She finally dared to look up at him behind long eyelashes, sneaking a look at his striking features. He was smiling widely and with heart, and she couldn't help but return it. "Would you like to see?"
She didn't know why she offered, she never let anyone see her paintings. It surprised her to find that it wasn't that she was being polite. She wanted him to see.
He nodded as the Christmas morning feeling came back. He felt warm and happy, like a little boy waiting to receive what he had always wanted. And when she held the painting in front of him, he wasn't disappointed. In light strokes and varying colors, she had recreated his favorite spot in all of Chicago. It was off the beaten path of a large park. A hidden meadow his Mother had taken him to for picnics as a child. A spot he thought had been hidden from the entire world.
"You know this place?" He asked in awe.
"I came across it in my travels recently. It's gorgeous." She answered quietly, uneasy with her work in his hands.
"I'll give you that. It is truly beautiful."
"I go there to read sometimes. It's lovely to sit in the shade." She admitted yet another secret to him, unsure why she needed to tell him this.
"No, I meant the painting. It is as flawless as its creator." He watched her as the words slipped out. She smiled brighter than any smile he had ever seen. And he was too far gone to care about anything else but the girl with paint on her hands.
