A/N:
Marvar: So you came back? Some of you needed happy pills and a bottle of wine after the prologue.
Cosmogirl7481: Thank you for reading the last chapter. We apologize. We seriously thought funerals were funny. They're not?
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"Michael, I'll be fine driving by myself. I'll meet you at your parents' house tomorrow morning after I visit Alice and Jasper," I say as I kiss him on the cheek. To his credit, he only winces slightly. Michael is uncomfortable with displays of affection. He's uncomfortable with many things. Except for me. Well, most of the time. He has some new medication so that he doesn't sneeze whenever he gets near me. And he's built up a "tolerance" for my many germs. Michael is a great person and we are very comfortable together. He's like...an old pair of shoes.
"You did pack my vaporizer, right?" he asks with a touch of concern. He climbs into his car after wiping down the handle of his door.
"Of course, Michael. You remember that you touched it three times when I packed it?" I say patiently.
He seems reassured by my response, and buckles his seatbelt. I stop myself from rolling my eyes as he goes through his pre-driving checklist (ritual) of everything in his car. I briefly consider leaning on his mirror, but realize that would that would cause a minor panic attack. It would be funny, though.
Once he's done with his OCD inventory, he turns to say goodbye. "Bundle up so you don't catch cold," he says before he sneezes. "Oh, you already infected me. Did you pack my germ mask? Maybe we'll have to sleep in separate beds this weekend. I - I can't afford to get sick again," he stammers in a panic. I reassure him that I'm not ill and he is the one that's sneezing. He puts his car into drive and waves out the window. I know he's going to probably wrap himself into a plastic bubble until New Year's.
"Bye, Bella."
"Bye, Michael."
Yeah, separate beds, definitely. I sigh because I'm not upset; I'm relieved. He's a good friend and companion; there's just no spark, no...magic?
That's what I'm looking for. I've been looking for twenty-eight years.
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Ugh, the Christmas music is driving me crazy. I know it's Christmas Eve, but I've been hearing these songs since Halloween. I change the channel, looking for something different. A voice catches my attention. The little boy's voice is sad and adorable at the same time. It's a call-in radio show and a boy is talking to a radio shrink. I can't help it, but I'm drawn in to his story.
"This is Dr. Jane Volturi and I'm speaking to Jacob from Seattle. Go ahead, Jacob," the slick voice says through the radio.
"Hi, Dr. Jane. This is Jacob. I'm calling because my dad needs a new wife." Oh, he's adorable.
"A new wife? What's wrong with the one he has?"
"My mom died a few years ago and he's been so lonely. He doesn't sleep or eat and I'm really worried about him. Dr. Jane, can you help him, please?" The boy continues to tell his story, obviously worried about his father. The shrink gets the boy to put his dad on the phone. It's then I hear the most melodic "hello" in the history of greetings. Ok, that's exaggeration, but I'm trying to make a point.
"Hello, Edward. You're on the radio with Dr. Jane Volturi."
"Who is this? You called a radio station, Jacob? I'm on the radio?" he asks, exasperatedly. He's definitely not pleased, but after much coaxing Dr. Jane gets him to talk about his late wife. His voice is warm and sweet, masculine and loving, as he speaks about her. I've never heard anything like it. I'm in tears as I'm driving and I want to comfort him from across the country. I'm hanging on every word.
"Edward, don't you think it's time to move on?" she asks.
"Dr. Volturi?" he asks softly.
"Call me Dr. Jane, Edward," she coos in a smarmy voice. I want to hit her. "I'm a friend, here to help you."
"No, you're not," Edward says while the same words escape my lips. I gasp and cover my mouth.
"Edward," she prods.
"I just try to make it through each day," he admits.
"Maybe you and Jacob deserve more than just getting by."
"Yeah, Dr. Jane, it's easy for you to say. But how do you find someone who is everything to you...again? It's like getting struck by lightning twice...or...or..." He struggles to find the words. In my car, driving to meet my boyfriend's parents, the words pour out of my mouth at the same time he finds the answer to his own question.
"It's like ...magic," we say together.
Have you ever felt drawn to someone you've never met?
Thousands of miles away from him, I am weeping in my car, wishing to comfort a man who I've never met. I feel like I know him and his son, but I need to know more. I can't explain it.
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I arrive at Alice and Jasper's house too soon. I don't get out; I sit and listen to Edward tell Dr. Jane about Jacob and a knock on my slightly opened window causes me to jump and bump my head on the rear-view mirror.
"Ouch, Jasper!" I yell. "What the fu-"
"Isabella," he admonishes, "language." He actually makes a "tsk, tsk" sound. I roll my eyes at my uptight brother.
"I was listening to something."
"Yes, that harpy, Jane Volturi. How she calls herself a doctor is a travesty of the medical profession. You know she didn't even get admitted to medical school? She has an honorary doctorate from a glorified clown college," Jasper gripes. "Why are you listening to that drivel?"
"Um, I was bored?"
"Isabella, 'Boredom is the root of all evil,'" he quotes.
"Jeebus, Jasper. Don't start with the Kierkegaard. It's Christmas," I complain. There's no use in listening to Edward anymore with Dr. Stick-up-his-ass here. He's like a wet blanket. Made of tweed - like all his jackets since birth. I hear Dr. Jane sign off and I breathe a sigh of relief that I'm not going to miss anything.
"The fact that you know that's Kierkegaard redeems you."
"Yes, Jasper. All those years of playing 'Guess the Quote' with you in the car when we were kids finally paid off."
"I know! Exciting, isn't it?"
I laugh and Jasper looks confused by my reaction, which makes me laugh harder.
"Come in, Bella. It's getting cold," he insists.
"Don't get your starched khakis in a twist, Jasper."
Alice is waiting at the front door for us. She hugs me tightly and ushers me into the house. My best friend married my brother. Sometimes I think she did it as a favor so I wouldn't have to live with him anymore. But even she is not that selfless.
"Merry Christmas, Bells!" Alice trills. "I wish you could stay longer."
"Yeah, but I have to go to Mike's," I say, trying to hide my annoyance. Alice grimaces, not hiding her feelings for my boyfriend. She never liked him. She always says I'm settling instead of searching for my soul mate. And she says Mike is a dork. I can't really argue.
It's ok to think that your boyfriend is a dork, right?
"I smell cookies, Alice."
She grins as she pulls one out of her "Santa Claws" cat apron pocket and tosses it to me. She grabs another and pops it in her mouth. "You should've gotten here earlier. I had some Belgian chocolates that my dad sent me. They were delicious, weren't they, Jazzy?"
"I'll take your word for it, Darling. I didn't actually get to try any," Jasper says. Alice doesn't even look sheepish. She loves her snacks. Jasper doesn't care. He does whatever she says. I guess that's why he's so overbearing with me - she has him under twenty-four-seven control. And he might be hungry.
They make a great couple despite the obvious differences. She's an editor for a large newspaper and he's a prominent psychiatrist. He wears tweed coats with leather patches and penny loafers, and she is in a red velour track suit (her "eating" pants) and flip flops. Yeah, opposites attract.
"Isabella was listening to 'Doctor' Jane, Alice." Jasper actually makes air quotes.
"Oh, Bella. You know Jasper gets worked up when anyone mentions celebrity therapists. He thinks it's an insult to psychiatrists."
"It's a travesty. Freud would -"
Alice makes a sound like a hiss and Jasper stops his rant.
I giggle and Jasper gives me a dirty look. Alice motions to him to give us some space. He leaves immediately. I wish I knew that trick when we were younger.
"I know, Alice. But I was listening to a particular caller. I just couldn't stop. He was mesmerizing."
"Ooh, tell me about it." We sit down on her couch facing each other. She hands me a plate of cookies and mug of eggnog. It's our little tradition.
"His name is Edward and he has the greatest voice. He was talking about grieving and moving on with his life. He's a widower and has a son, Jacob. He actually was the one who called in to Dr. Jane."
"That sounds really emo, Bella."
"No, he was completely wonderful and sweet and...gah, so amazing." I continue to gush about the man on the radio and his adorable son that have captured my attention.
Alice stares at me with a strange expression. "Bella, he could be 'the one.' I've never heard you talk that way about anyone. Definitely not about Mike Newton, professional hypochondriac. Not even when you met that hot baseball player, Big Rod."
"A Rod, Alice."
"Whatever. All those yummy baseball players and you don't even notice."
"That's part of my job."
"Yeah, well. I'd hit that."
"Hit what?"
"Bella. Seriously."
"What?"
She gives me the look that probably makes my brother's balls recede into his groin. I give her my best contrite smile. I don't have balls, but Alice is scary.
"You are a beautiful, professional woman. You have an excellent job as the PR director of the Marlins. And you are dating 'bubble boy.'"
"He's not that bad." I make a half-hearted attempt to defend Michael. Okay, it's more like a quarter-hearted. Alice raises her eyebrow at my weak response.
"Things happen for a reason. What if it's fate that made you hear Edward on the radio? Maybe you are supposed to find him. Maybe it's a sign."
"Maybe." I laugh, because that's ridiculous, right?
"Bella, maybe you are supposed to have more than 'not that bad,'" she says, softly.
I sigh. She's right.
Definitely.
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I leave very early in the morning to Michael's parents' house in Orlando. For once I'm not wishing that they retired in Boca like every other senior citizen because I hear the replay of Edward's call during the long drive.
It's a sign.
Edward. I say it aloud. It feels right, rolling off my tongue.
I greet Michael when I arrive at his parents' house. His name sticks in my throat and comes out like a cough. He covers his face with a handkerchief and takes a step back from me. I don't mind the distance.
I'm thinking about the distance from Miami to Seattle.
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End Notes: Thank you for sticking with us through the emo. Reviews would be lovely and sincerely appreciated.
Marvar: So Bella isn't dead. That will happen in our fic right after she leaves Edward for Jacob and right before we flounce Rob.
Cosmogirl7481: I don't know. I might have to flounce Rob if he poses on the cover of GQ with a top hat and a turtle. J/S
Follow us on twitter – marvar29 if you like Rob manips that show balloon knot and cosmogirl7481 if you enjoy Pringle can cock.