Money and Other Awful Green Things

Chapter 2

Inside there is an enormous double staircase, mahogany railings with shining white steps. It is so big and empty I feel like I can hear my breathing echo.

The giant crystal chandelier was one my mother picked out. The fact that it still hangs there is strange to me. It's a horribly gaudy thing.

I dump my bag on the floor and decide to explore. I haven't been here since I was 8 and I can almost completely remember my way around. The kitchen is big and stainless, the lounge austere and stark. He favours dark, rich styling. It feels like a bachelor pad. There is a lawyers library, filled with books. None I would want to read, law tomes mostly, but books nonetheless.

Upstairs there are a multitude of bedrooms and bathrooms. It would take me ages to check into all of them. I head to where my old bedroom was instead.

And I gasp when I open the door.

It is unchanged. The walls are pink, and a small children's bed sits in the middle of the room. A unicorn poster is on the wall, a chalkboard in one corner. There are silly children's drawings scattered around and a set of pajamas on the bed.

And yet as I wander into the room untouched by time, nothing is dusty. He must have the cleaner in here.

He has kept a shrine to me, as if I had died. I feel vaguely queasy, love and hate and distrust and annoyance all vying for attention in my mind.

The room reminds of my childhood so viciously a tear slips from my eye. Innocence. And innocence destroyed. It implies he cares, but his actions say otherwise.

I turn abruptly and slam the door shut behind me.

He can't expect me to stay in there. Surely not.

I stride away, to the back of the house, into the backyard. I need to get out.

There is a large pool, covered with a tarp. I sit in one of the loungers nearby and pull my sunglasses down. Behind them, I allow myself a small sob session.

This is going to fucking suck.

I have been yanked from my home and dropped back into Forks because my fucked up family all fucked each other up.

I cross my arms over my chest and try ignore the cold as the sun begins to set, and the mid autumn chill sets in. My flight-crinkled Arizona summer dress is ill equipped to handle this weather, and I consider heading back inside.

But don't. I stubbornly refuse. For no real reason, I am not defying anyone, but still. It feels good to be doing something I shouldn't.

That is where Charlie finds me when he gets home, sulking in the backyard with my arms pebbled, sunglasses on, staring at a pool that won't be able to be used for another...oh say 9 months.

We were still swimming in Arizona, I think sullenly. I miss the idea of Phoenix fervently right now.

"Bella!" He says, striding importantly towards me. I shuffle awkwardly to my feet and embrace him in return.

"Hey Ch...Dad." I say, looking at him and trying to force myself to smile. I can't do it though. I'm sure I just end up looking like I have gas.

"You're freezing kiddo." He says decidedly, and he grabs my arm and hauls me inside. "Let's get you warmed up."

He brings me back inside and despite myself I am glad to be out of the cold. I'm a dickhead sometimes.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to pick you up." He raises his hand and strokes the back of his neck, talking as we move through the kitchen towards the main foyer again. "Today I had a property dispute to deal with for an important client."

"Mmm" I say noncommittally. I don't want to say it's okay, because it's not. But I also don't want to start a fight. It's my first day here.

I am annoyed and scared and tired. Charlie is a ball of nervous energy and it's making me feel even more uncomfortable. I want to yell at him and throw a classic Bella tantrum. But Renee's plea, for me to try, is ringing in my head.

"Is that all you brought?" He says, leaning down to pick up my duffel. I nod.

He gives me a quick, searching look before nodding in return.

"I really am sorry Bella." He says, and as sincere as he sounds, I can still feel how pissed I am. I say nothing.

"Okay, well then, let me show you to your room." He says, striding up the stairs. "I am so glad you're here. I've been begging your mother to let you come live with me for years."

He chuckles, and I don't think he realises I've not said more than 3 words yet. He seems happy to ramble at me, and he does. I wonder if he realises that it wasn't Mom that was saying no. That it was me. Fighting her.

"I've put you in the west wing." He turns, and I am following behind, and after a small maze of hallways we arrive. I had never been in this part of the house, I don't think. "It used to be servants quarters, back in the day, but I knocked them all down and got them renovated. I hope you'll like it."

He smiles at me hopefully and I give a small one in return.

He swings the door open and I gasp audibly. This was impressive, even by my standards.

The room was massive, large enough for a king size bed, a lounge room and a kitchen. It was more like a large studio apartment than a bedroom. On one side there were two doors, and on the other a giant window wall with a view of the rolling forestry behind his house.

It still smells slightly of fresh paint.

There was an empty bookcase and desk in one corner, near the lounge.

There was so much room she could cartwheel around, "swing a cat" as Phil would say. The walls were painted a pale grey colour, and a warm timber was on the floor. Thick rugs were placed strategically throughout the room and to my surprise, I loved it. Intensely.

"Wow." I gasped, and Charlie laughed delightedly.

"Do you like it?" He asked eagerly and I nod.

"Yes." I walked in, the afternoon sunset flooding the room with green and gold light. It felt alien and luxe, and I was awed by it. "Thank you."

It was so different to my room at home, that was chaotic and filled with colour and texture.

"I...wanted to give you some place your own." He said, suddenly seeming unsure. "I know living with me wasn't your first choice."

I slowly nod at him, eyeing the enormous TV and shining fridge. I wouldn't have to leave here, if I didn't want to. A true oasis.

Charlie places my duffel inside the door and grabs the handle.

"I'll leave you to shower, and settle in a bit. I'll see you in the parlour for dinner at...say 7:30?"

I nod, and he smiles big at me, his mustache a relic of the roaring 70's on his face, while his suit was wonderfully modern and chic.

"Okay then." With one last grin he closes the door and leaves.

I turn in a slow examination of the room, and I am ashamed at how much my resentment lessened with this gift.

I am a barbie girl, in a barbie world.

My own shallowness repulses me sometimes. I shake the warring resentment and appreciation off as best I can.

I move towards the first of the doors I hadn't opened, and it is a large, empty walk-in closet, with racks for sunglasses and trays for watches and a wall for shoes and handbags. In the center of the room there is a raised platform in front of a massive mirror. It was bigger than the one I had at home. The was a creamy carpet on the floor.

I smile appreciatively and turn, and open the other door. Inside is a bathroom, with a large shower, a big bath and huge vanity. Natural tones, with enough windows to allow a comforting natural light in. A small, happy plant sits in a corner and I smile at the thoughtful touch.

I turn the tap and bend over, splashing my face and drinking deeply. I look at my wet face and the mirror and grimace at my red rimmed eyes.

I shuffle to the pretty brown lounge chair and sit, suddenly exhausted.

Lovely. All of it absolutely lovely.

So why do I still feel so empty?

It is Wednesday, the day I arrive. Charlie's says I can settle in for the week and then start at the school on Monday. I appreciate the reprieve. The night before Charlie had taken me to a small Italian restaurant called Vapiano's. It was fine. I don't much care for pasta.

People had commented, my how pretty she is, so polite Charlie, you must be so proud. As though he had anything to do with raising me besides monetary donations and some genes.

But it's not been too bad, so far. Charlie is...happy. pleasant to be around. He's so different to the man I remember from my childhood. It's...nice. It's disorientating. He seems genuinely happy that I am here.

I lounge in bed for the morning and watch with sleepy cat like eyes as the sun bathes my room in light. This bed is softer than I usually like, but I had been so exhausted last night, and sleep had come swiftly once I had taken my sleeping tablet.

The house is quiet. I'm not used to being alone, but I find the solitude...peaceful. No Renee to nag at me, no Phil blaring the TV. I thought I would hate it.

Eventually, after the clock drags past 11, I pull myself out of bed and don a denim skirt that goes to mid thigh and a floaty white peasant top. I feel lazy, and pull my hair into a bun on my head.

I wasn't really planning on going anywhere today. Minimal effort would suffice.

I pad down the stairs barefoot and wince at the echoing. The house away from my room felt cold. It was like Charlie forgot that walls are meant to be adorned. It felt empty and sad.

In the dining room there is a note, a full set of house keys, and a black credit card.

Bella,

Judging by yesterday's outfit of choice, you will need to purchase some clothing. I have gotten you a credit card, I only ask that you try keep it below 5 thousand a month.

I will see you tonight, I'll bring some pizza home. I hope you still like pepperoni.

- Dad

I pick up the black card and grin. There is a similar one in my purse, that Phil and Renee pay for. That one has a monthly limit of 10 thousand. I wonder if he knows, and think it wiser to keep that tidbit to myself.

Smiling, I stride into the kitchen and dig through his enormous fridge. Inside there are 2 rotting apples, half a jar of pickles, and some tomato sauce.

I don't think he cooks much, I think to myself wryly.

Instead, I just grab a cup of coffee and head back to my room. Once there I grab my laptop out and begin to open my favourite shopping sites, opening the winter sections, coats and sweaters and jeans, sleek trousers and boots and dresses.

I order fast shipping on them all and wince at the total once done, well over Charlie's limit. Restraint has never been my strong suit. I wonder how mad he'll be.

I lay back and browse YouTube and Facebook, and just as I am begging to feel drowsy in the afternoon sun, I hear a loud noise coming down the drive way, and I rush to the front door.

A delivery man is poised to knock when I swing the door open with a small squeal.

"MY CAR!" I shriek happily, and the man smiles at me, a little shocked. Two enormous trucks sit at the front of the house and I eagerly begin to direct the removalists, telling them where to put the boxes. I watch with keen eyes as they slowly reverse my baby out of the container.

She is beautiful. Cherry red, glossy and sexy and flashy. Her name is Lola. She is quick. She is a convertible, with a fat front and sporty rear end.

Eventually all my stuff is out, and Lola's keys are in my hand. I feel like my freedom has been returned to me. What once was dark, is now returned to light.

Ignoring all the packing due to be done upstairs I get in Lola. I need to get away from this echoing hall.

Lowering myself into her creamy interior, I inhale the strawberry car freshener and cigarette scent.

It feels like an embrace. It might be silly that a car means so much to me. But when I was..struggling, this car was all I had.

I grin to myself and turn the key. The engine roars to life and I peel out of the driveway. I rev down the street and laugh at a glaring woman, my new neighbor, watching from her front door.

I don't care though, I just want to drive. The afternoon sun is sweet, even if it's not as warm as I'd prefer. I put her hood down and let my bun free. I pull a black pair of designer sunglasses from my glovebox, like the ones Audrey Hepburn wore, and I can almost pretend I'm just on holiday. I pretend like I'm in a film, a glamorous free woman, living how she chooses. No leash.

I weave through the streets with foggy memory and make lots of wrong turns, people on the sidewalks pointing and staring, whispering. Oh yeah, I am getting a talking to when I get home. There is no way Charlie won't hear about this. I'm not meant to be out like this without a parent knowing.

But I just don't care right now.

I notice that even in a town with as much money as Forks, my car still is flashy.

Eventually I find a highway, and with a laugh of sheer pleasure, I put my foot down and let myself rip into the green ahead of me. The air smells damp here, and I reach in my centre console for a cigarette.

I light it, slowing enough to multitask safely and take a deep drag. This is as much as I allow myself these days. I used to be so much worse. Now nicotine is as fucked up as I get. I try to keep it to a pack a week. Unless I'm stressed. Then I tend to smoke, rather than eat.

My hair whips riotously around my face, and I just drive. I let my mind drift into a place where all I can think of is the road, my car, and me. It feels like peace. I feel clear, focused.

Once the sun has completely set, I turn back. The drive home seems long, and I feel my previous relaxation leaving me the closer to Forks I get.

Once I find my way there, I see lights on. I park my car next to Charlie's in the garage and head inside. I wonder if he will be harsh, or try play it cool, like what I've done hasn't bothered him.

I walk inside, and Charlie is in the living room, the scent of pizza in the air. He grins over the back of the lounge at me.

"Bella!" He says, his tone pleasant. "I see your stuff has arrived."

I nod warily. He knows, he has to know I've been off all afternoon, frolicking in a car I'm not meant to drive yet, but he doesn't seem to care.

I hear a rustling coming from behind me and turn around, surprised.

"Oh!" A beautiful woman with russet skin and inky black hair stands in the doorway, two wine glasses in her hands. "Hello, you must be Bella?"

Her voice is deep, and her tone entirely pleasant.

Charlie rises and moves towards the woman, an easy grin on his face.

"This is my girlfriend Sue." He says, taking the glasses from her and kissing her sweetly on the cheek. "She's been wanting to meet you for ages."

"You didn't tell her?" She hisses at him, elbowing him in the stomach.

All of a sudden, Charlie's smiley and uncaring attitude makes sense. He's in love.

Charlie used to be so serious, so solemn, unsmiling. He's been glowing since I came back. My dumbass thought it was because of me.

I am stunned.

"Oh?" I say, falsely sweet. I look at Sue's faded work uniform. "And what does Sue do?"

"I work at the diner in town." She says, tucking a lock of hair behind one ear. "Have for 20 years now."

I frown at Charlie, and I can see the caution enter his gaze. To caution me, I imagine. But the words slip out anyway.

"Get a prenup before you marry this one." I say, callously. Sue's mouth drops open and I can tell she's horrified.

With that, I push past them both and head to my room.

"Bella!" Charlie yells after me, but I ignore him. My stomach cries out in protest but I go anyway. I hear him talking to Sue, in soothing tones.

That just makes me angrier.

I am in a new place, stuck, with a distant father. I thought he was excited because I was home. But he is just enamored with someone else.

I feel a fool for thinking Charlie actually gave a fuck. He never has before. Why would he start now?

The next morning, Charlie is gone when I wake. No note today. I don't lounge around like yesterday though, and after driving to the grocery store and buying some food - apples, granola bars and stuff for chicken sandwiches - I begin to unpack my belongings.

I turn my laptop on, and play some music. It helps my mood a lot.

The first box is filled with books, and I drag it over to the empty shelves. Of a boy, Pride and Prejudice, the adventures of Sherlock Holmes, of mice and men. First editions all, literary classic after classic. When the box is empty the shelf is a quarter full. I break the box down and move to the next. Slowly, with breaks for food and bathroom, the pile of boxes dwindles down. My wardrobe is only half full, the size of it is impressive. Renee must have told him I liked clothes.

Before I know it, the sun has gone down, and I hear Charlie's BMW pulling up. I debate on heading down to see him.

I was a brat last night, but he sprung that on me. I ought to apologise, but I'm just not that sorry.

Or maybe I'm a little bit sorry. I don't even know anymore. I can't decide if I'm a bitch, or a baby. I am something fragile wrapped up in a brittle, spiky casing.

An absentee father doesn't feel worthy of the apology, of me. Maybe if I ever see Sue again though, I will.

I decide to bite the bullet and head downstairs, my arms full of boxes to take out. An excuse. I'm ready for the showdown.

Charlie is hanging a bag and jacket in a cupboard, and he looks up at me. I expect anger, but his expression is mostly flat.

"Hey." I say uneasily, the look on his face suddenly bringing an apology burbling up that I hadn't intended to give. I've never seen him look so dispassionately at me.

"Hello." He sounds stiff and I wince internally. This is worse than being yelled at, this quiet anger. When you know the person is mad, and you are on edge waiting for the snap.

"Uhh...I'm sorry." I spit out, and he wearily eyes me. "For if I upset Sue. I think...I was jealous."

I am surprised with myself. That was much more honest than I'd planned to be. More honest than I'd even been in my own mind.

He says nothing for a long time, and I begin to shuffle towards the door, embarrassed, thinking he won't reply, when he stops me.

"Sue means a lot to me." He is speaking carefully, as though I am a spooked animal. "But not more than you."

I don't believe him. His face is closed off, his lips pinched.

He is guarded, and I realise he might have thought I would kick and scream that he must leave her. And I wonder if he would have, if he thinks I am the type of person to do that. I wonder if that is what I was going to do.

"Oookay." I reply equally slowly. I can feel my brows pinch together and roll my shoulders, trying to relax. "Well."

He says nothing else, but shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. He looks tired. I am surprised at myself though. I haven't snapped yet, and thrown a tantrum. I feel like a bomb waiting to explode.

"I'm just going to take these out and probably head to bed." I say. Trying to hide my fear now, after being honest. It leaves me feel raw, exposed.

"Yeah, yeah." He nods. "Uh...wait, have you eaten?"

It occurs to me that he is so unused to me, having a child, that he doesn't realise how unusual it is that a 16 year old must fend for their own breakfast, lunch and dinner. But I don't say that. I just nod and he looks relieved.

"Tomorrow I'm going out with Carlisle and Esme." He speaks as though I should know these people, but I have no idea who he is talking about. "They have a big cruiser for the bay. Would you like to come?"

"No thank you." I say, the boxes growing heavy. "Lots of unpacking to do and I need to get ready for school."

"Yeah, of course." He says, and then after a beat I leave, lugging the boxes to the wheelie bins.

When I come back he's nowhere to be seen. Charlie and I are dancing around each other, trying to figure out where we stand. Will he try father me? Will I let him? But I don't feel like dealing with that anymore right now, already vulnerable after apologising, so I head back to my room.

I feel so lost, unsure of myself here. In Arizona I knew who I was. Or I thought I did.

I was acerbic, I was intelligent, I was snarky. I had a dark sense of humour. Renee called me a brat, Phil called me fiery. Charlie called me his sweet girl. I don't know if none of them are right, or if they all are.

All I know now is that I fucking smell.

My sanctuary, already. I step inside and begin to feel my tense shoulders relax. My limited winter selection in the walk-in, with lots of lovely summer and spring pieces. The books and my small trinkets from home scattered around make me feel better. More like I will settle here. I grab some cosy cotton pajamas out of my wardrobe.

I will be able to make something.

I peel my clothes from my body on the way to my shower. Manual labour does not suit me.