Monday, March 23, 2015 11:02 AM
Father of Isabella Dwyer Asks for Privacy
After ten days of silence, Charles Swan, biological father of Isabella Dwyer, spoke to reporters outside of his home in Forks, Washington about his daughter's unexpected death.
"We just don't understand," said Swan in reference to his ex-wife, Renee Dwyer. "We don't know anything that you don't already know. I first heard about it from the morning news and I called her to confirm. And then...I'm given almost no time to process before millions of reporters came hounding at my door. Be respectful. We're grieving. We're angry."
Swan is currently on administrative leave from his position as chief of police in the town of Forks, Washington.
Friends of Isabella Dwyer claim that Dwyer and her father had not made contact in nearly a decade. Her funeral service is set to take place on Wednesday in Jacksonville Florida.
January 2006
I rubbed my heavy, dry eyes while walking out of the cafeteria and into the girl's bathroom. The water from the faucet being splashed in my face did nothing to lessen their puffiness and only irritated them further. I gazed up to see my reflection in the mirror and saw the expected dark circles, drooped corners of the mouth, and pale, weary complexion.
Last night was exhausting.
It began with a phone call to Renee that lasted nearly an hour but could have easily been cut down to ten minutes if it weren't for her stalling. She opened the conversation with updates on Phil's career and then moved on to home decor. My mind drifted off sometime during the feng shui arc but found it's way back with a jolt when she suggested that I move to Jacksonville to "help remodel the kitchen." She accepted my refusal but her dubious tone suggested that I could expect another call tonight.
I made sure to end the call on a high note. The "everything is okay" front was much easier to pull off with her than Charlie since she hadn't seen me these past few months.
With that out of the way, I sunk into my sheets and fantasized about a life without Bella, mainly focused on a girl identical to my physical self, minus the vacant eyes and hunched shoulders. She exuded femininity with poised confidence and longer, silkier hair.
My imagination ran rampant until it was interrupted by the buzz of my alarm clock.
And here I stood, leaning in closer to the girl's bathroom mirror to get a better look at the consequences of my all-nighter. Two sophomores barged in and the room suddenly felt congested. I waited for them to close their stall doors before charging out the door.
The only empty table in the cafeteria was in the back corner. The whole student body knew it was mine, because it used to be theirs.
Some familiar faces sat one table over. Jessica sat in between Lauren and Angela, bridging the gap between them. Ben constantly nudged Angela and spat inside jokes. Mike and Tyler joined the group with their chests nonchalantly puffed out. Their conversation made no sense to me, but they all looked happy. Must be nice.
Lauren inched closer to Tyler and spoke to him in a hushed tone, her laugh as girlish as ever. I'd like to say my attempt at it with Jack last night was pretty spot on. Tyler eagerly carried on flirting as if the other seats at the table were empty.
I was never Lauren's biggest fan, but she did have some admirable qualities. Her demeanor made others hesitant to approach her but feel honored when she spoke to them. There was a certain provocative aura surrounding her that drew people in. It was coy, slightly intimidating, and something I wanted to replicate.
Jessica and Angela had some equally desirable traits. Though not as popular with boys, Jessica's outgoing personality and charismatic flair made her seem like the group's ringleader. Angela didn't project the same air of confidence as the other two, but that didn't bother her. She was content with what she had: good grades, good family, good friends, and an adoring boyfriend.
Over the past few months, Jessica and Angela checked in with me from time to time but rarely received more than a nod. Jessica always followed up her "heartfelt" speeches by surveying the room, probably to make sure people saw and appreciated how much Jessica Stanley cared about the poor, depressed girl. Angela, however, was discreet about it and offered me undeserved love and attention.
Took her months to catch on.
Angela bounced in her chair when the bell rang and briefly made eye contact with me. No wave, or smile. She buoyantly exited the cafeteria, light on her feet without me weighing on her mind.
My legs operated on autopilot and carried me to calculus. Ms. Hanks cringed at the sight of my head resting on the cold desk but said nothing. Literature and home-ec went by painlessly, both having substitutes thanks to a teacher's conference. I was comfortably napping on Charlie's couch in no time.
Charlie typically left work at six, so my alarm clock went off at 5:55 as to not clue him in on my accidental all-nighter. When he opened the front door, I was sitting at the kitchen table with a calculus textbook and spiral notebook staged in front of me.
"Hey," he hesitated, pleasantly surprised to not find me in my room. He stepped into the kitchen, and the smell of the hot pizza in his arms made me nauseous. "Lots of homework tonight, Bells?"
"Not exactly homework. Just reviewing for midterms."
He set the pizza in front of me and went to grab a cold drink, using the refrigerator door to hide his satisfied grin.
"Sausage and peppers?" I asked, reading the side of the pizza box.
"The other half is plain for you. Billy likes sausage and peppers. I invited him over tonight, but if you need quiet study time then I'll tell him to come tomorrow instead."
"No worries. I was about to head upstairs anyway."
His voice crack, a little saddened, "You sure? I can't promise that we'll mute the TV and whisper to ESPN."
"I was going to listen to music anyway."
Charlie bobbed his head in understanding and left to change out of his police uniform. For his peace of mind, I grabbed a plain slice and forced it down, even though my stomach wanted to kill me for it. A serious loss of appetite led me to lose a noticeable amount of weight evident from loose clothes and the ache from un-cushioned chairs.
Billy came in with his son, Jacob, but I was already sitting in bed, decoy earbuds popped in and input plug tucked under the book in my lap. Jacob orotund voiced carried, specifically asking for me.
"She's home but...don't push it. She's had a good streak recently. Going out with friends, studying, and whatnot," my dad tremulously mused.
"Just a quick hello," Jacob insisted.
"She'll come down if she's ready," he snapped back, voice still softened to a whisper. "She's stubborn that way. You can't make her do anything."
The conversation shifted away from me and onto the upcoming game tonight. Laughter accompanied by the clanging of keys against beer bottles reverberated through the house. Jacob idly participated in the town gossip as it was hard to get a word in with those two around. Billy had much to say about his growing son, sometimes complaining and bragging about him in the same breathe. Charlie endlessly commented on how tall and huge Jacob got. When the voices got real low, I knew they were talking about me.
"And she can't hear us?" Billy stammered.
"No," Charlie assured, "She puts her music on way too loud." That was true during junior year.
Billy's tone relaxed, "So she's doing better you said?"
"Yeah, but I don't know where to go from here. Now that she's started to pick herself back up again, I feel uneasy around her. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad things have turned around. Thrilled. I'm just worried that one wrong move and it's back to square one."
The bottles of Rainier leaked out of Charlie's slowed speech.
"Before I was just happy to hear full sentences or watch her eat something other than bread or Pop-Tarts. In my mind, she could only go up from there. Now it's like, she's climbing up, but I don't know if she's strong enough to keep herself up."
"But she's going up," Jacob chimed in, seemingly to reassure both my dad and himself.
"Exactly," Charlie agreed with an audible sip. "I just have to give that stubborn kid some space and trust that she'll tell me what she needs to get better. There's no telling her what to do. Months of practically begging her to spend time with friends, and she does nothing. Leave her alone and she instantly has a booming social circle."
Jacob grumbled, "Booming social circle?"
"Exaggerating, but she did spend the night out in Seattle with a friend. Drove all the way there and back in your build, Jacob."
They redirected their focus to my truck and Jacob's skills as a mechanic.
~ WFA ~
Those two days were the precedent for the remainder of my winter.
Classmates and former friends left me to my own devices. Jessica, Angela, and Lauren regularly sat within earshot during lunch, sharing their weekend plans and war stories. I meticulously followed their exchanges and the table reactions to gather the well-received stories for later use.
My persona took the shape of their best traits, mannerisms, and quirks. Weekly road trips "with friends" meant a new alias in a new coffee shop with a new stranger. Jessica's funny stories blended well with Lauren's flirtatious vibes, but Angela's strong eye contact and personal questions were crucial in making my subject feel that he was the only one in the room.
Those nights made it easy to forget him...and myself.
In between those nights, my scars were not healed, but the cuts he made did not have the same lasting effect they once did. The nightmares ceased after my second coffee shop run, and I became too preoccupied with making mental notes about my peers to grieve. Boring Bella still went to school and moped at home, but she ate three meals and answered her mom's calls.
I emailed Mrs. Newton to humor Charlie, and she was pleased to hear that I was ready to work in the camping supplies store again. Mike's shifts frequently overlapped with mine, prompting awkward conversations, but I led to Charlie to believe that we were close.
In my dad's eyes, I was making tremendous progress. Between work, school, and alleged time out with friends, he rarely saw me in the house and only had my fabricated stories to go off of. They no longer left a bad taste in my mouth because he was so happy to believe them.
My grades were high enough to stay afloat and be on track to graduate, but no post-graduation plans were made. Slim chance that any school would want a girl with "just passing" grades and no extra-curriculars. Charlie approached the subject of college applications with extreme caution, usually by making a blanket statement about education and waiting for my reaction. Eventually I had enough of him tip-toeing around and promised to find a community college.
"It won't be like high school, you know. It's a chance to start over and be what you want to be," he ensured.
That was exactly the plan, and my alter-ego was evidently college-ready.
Jessica's extroverted personality landed her the opportunity to be our graduation speaker and rightly so. The first draft of her commencement speech was written in September. Granted it was a terrible, rough draft, but half a year of stressing over it did it justice. Jessica seemed to be on winning streak because soon after that she was accepted by the University of Michigan. Angela settled for Washington State University and miraculously Ben also decided on our state school.
Lauren was adverse to the idea of "more school than necessary" and had comedically high hopes of being swept off her feet by a Hollywood stud She planned on living with her aunt in her Los Angeles apartment.
A week before the ceremony, Mike, Jessica, and Tyler were chattering at their usual table.
"Don't you think we should? It's the last time we can?" Tyler stuttered, insecurely scratching the back of his head.
Jessica looked deep in thought, "Like just us or a huge thing?"
"Well if we go through with La Push then we'll have to keep it small," Tyler settled, "So you guys, Angela, Ben, Eric, and obviously Lauren. Anyone else you think we should invite?"
Mike shook his head, "I know she's already having a goodbye dinner with Rebecca and that group, so this could just be our thing." The other two agreed.
"I'll tell Angela about it during calculus," Jessica beamed and separated from the group.
The following lunch period was spent working out travel plans to La Push on the Friday after graduation. Jessica urged the group to "Go big" and "give Lauren the time of her life" but was eased down by Angela, the realist.
"Nobody has the time to plan something huge," Angela sympathetically let out, "and you are going to be caught up with the graduation committee."
Jessica beat around the bush, "Right but...maybe...hear me out. We'll graduate on Wednesday and I'll be with my family on Thursday. You don't have any special plans until Saturday so you could use Thursday to go through this shopping list." Her index finger pranced around the bulleted list of party goods on the table.
Jessica brought up the list on a daily base leading up to the day we put on our caps and gowns. Surprise surprise, there were no takers.
The ceremony itself was uneventful. Jessica made her speech, and Tyler made soft jabs at her, tone quiet enough to only be heard by the graduating class of 2006. The reading of my name was met with a dull applause that Angela singularly attempted to heighten from her seat.
Caps were thrown, and Charlie paved his way through the crowd, his eyes glossy with tears and lips formed a light smile.
"You did it, kid," he mewled with an arm over my shoulder. "It was rough, but I'm glad you did it here."
"And not with strange Floridians," I begrudgingly added.
He chuckled, "The Floridians can see you another day. I missed too many milestones to let them take you now. But...looks like someone else wants to take you though."
The was a delicate tap on my shoulder, and I turned to see Angela gingerly waving her camera. She snapped a quick picture of the two of us with Charlie out of frame as he was kind enough to give the two "best friends" some space. We exchanged congratulations and uncomfortable glances before she ran back to Ben's side.
Charlie reappeared, "You two have plans tonight?"
"No. I...uh...thought you'd want just the two of us to go out for dinner."
His jaw dropped on the verge of protest, considered encouraging me to go out and have fun with friends but he stopped and gave me two pats on the back. "I'd like that."
Renee called after dinner to warm me up to the idea of Florida State College at Jacksonville. I promised to "sleep on it" and, of course, my phone incessantly rang the next morning. She dreaded another year without me, and judging from the array of pamphlets for Washington colleges left on my nightstand, Charlie did too.
No longer bound to him, I didn't know what I wanted.
Friday afternoon, I woke up to the creak of my bedroom door opening. "Hey Bells," Charlie stiffly leaned against the doorframe, "I'm off duty tonight. You want to go out for dinner in Port Angeles? We can check out Peninsula College while we're there."
"No thanks. Jessica invited me to a goodbye party for Lauren."
"Oh, some other time then." He closed my door and trudged down the stairs with unusually loud footsteps.
The sky was approaching twilight as my quarters slid into the Seattle parking meter. My focus was entirely on performing. I wore a black shirt bought last week in Port Townsend, tight around the waist with a lacy neckline that was complemented by a push-up bra.
Maybe Kate tonight? Or something with more of a kick, like Vivian or Ivy?
I aimlessly walked through a park and got caught in a mixed group of college students. "Are you here for the meetup?" a short and stubby girl in pigtails asked?
But what kind of meetup? From a superficial level, I could fit into this group of about thirty people standing around and making idle chit-chat, but my character needed more depth.
I squinted and tilted my head, "I'm not sure…"
"Cal Anderson Park film major meetup," she cleared up.
"Oh good! Sorry I'm not from around here and got a little lost."
The girl, Hannah, took my hand and introduced Kate Grimes, Northwestern University sophomore to the group. It was a night of networking, eating, and commiserating.
My truck parked in the driveway at about two in morning. The living room light near the window reflected off my windshield, and I couldn't help but get a sinking feeling in my stomach.
Inside, Charlie sat in his armchair, wide awake. "How was the party with Jessica?"
"Good," I murmured, toes pointing towards the stairs.
He spoke in a monotone, "Interesting, because you weren't with Jessica."
The keys in my hand fell to the hard floor.
The reaction was involuntary. There had to be a way around this. Tell him about my last-minute change of plans. Went out with Angela, a classmate he never met, or a fake person? But this was not the same Charlie that welcomed my lies with open arms. His face withheld emotion, retaining it all in a single, clenched fist. Both of my knees were on the brink of giving out, and l latched on to the arm of the couch for support. He watched and waited.
"Dad, I–"
"Sit."
I embedded myself into the couch corner furthest from his armchair. Both shoes propped up on the cushions and hands twisted by my ankles. When the squirming and rustling stopped, Charlie continued. He wanted me to hear every word.
"You'll have your time to talk after I'm done but I want the truth, about tonight, about the last year. Everything."
I nodded, unsure if I could give him that much.
"After you went off to wherever the hell you just came from, Harry invited me over for a beer with some friends from the reservation. Jacob and his friends were going in and out, said they found your friends on the beach."
There was a bitter emphasis on the last part.
"I asked Jacob if he got the chance to say 'hi' to you there. How do you think that went? I didn't want to believe what he said since those are the friends you spend so many weekends with. I got angry with him and had to go see for myself."
My arms tightened around my knees. I wanted to smother myself with the couch cushions, while at the same time, already felt suffocated by the walls of the room.
"Newton was in the parking lot, taking pizza out of his car when he saw the police cruiser. He said you weren't with them and got the Stanley girl to leave the beach for a friendly talk. I asked her about all those trips you and her took together."
He leaned in with a harsh, emotional hook on my eyes. "Now Bella, can you tell me what you think her answer was?"
The room would have been absolutely silent if not for my fingernails scraping against the fabric of the couch.
"Bella?" his mouth barely moved. Everything else was unrelentingly still.
"It was...I um…a..." The words couldn't connect.
"I already know the truth. You didn't go to La Push and haven't talked to Jessica since that thing happened. I just want to hear it from you to end this cycle you started."
That thing? This cycle?
His speech faltered on those words.
Under the police guise was a heartbroken father who didn't want to remember that thing either, and we were so close to getting past it. Charlie had not brought his name up in months. There was no need to. He was far happier asking questions about dinner with Jessica, and Mike Newton arm wrestling a janitor. I looked "normal" when I told those stories.
His chin dipped to his chest in what could only be disappointment, in me for taking advantage of his trust, or himself for not realizing it sooner.
My heart did not want to go through the motions anymore, not if it meant hurting Charlie and remembering him. To simply stop beating wouldn't be enough. It needed to disappear, take every vein with it, and let me continue as a lifeless doll to dull the pain.
A hand frantically waved in front of my face.
"Bella! Bella!" Charlie bawled, now out of the armchair and crouching on the living room carpet. I turned my head to get a direct view of his terror-stricken face, eyes ready to jump out of their sockets.
The hand pulled away in alarm and moved to his chest as he caught his breath.
"You sort of lost it there," he wheezed, cop composure completely gone. "I called your name and tried to get your attention, but it was like you weren't here."
"Sorry." My arms reached to wrap around my knees which were oddly tilted to the side rather than where I left them, as if they just fell on their own.
Charlie let out an exasperated sigh, and with a sympathetic pat on the knee, he joined me on the couch. Bit by bit, his breathing slowed to a normal pace. Neither of us knew where to go from here or what to say to one another.
Still in deep thought, Charlie broke the silence, "Not much changed since Edward first left."
Not a question but an affirmation. It seemed so private, as though half of him was trying to convince the other half. Had his attention been directed towards me, he would have noticed the wince at his name.
"Bella, now I know where we stand." One hand consolingly rested on my back. "You should go to bed now, but we're not done. First thing tomorrow morning. I'll be here."
I slid under the my sheets and lied face down in a pillow until I heard the screech of the front door opening. On the other side of the bedroom window was Charlie, standing near the driveway and dialing a number on his cell phone. If he was trying to be secretive, he should have considered things like open windows first.
"Yeah she's home...Around two o'clock...Yeah do me a favor and tell Jacob that I'm sorry for lashing out on him...I just didn't think she would do that...I don't want to but looks like there's no other option. She did that thing again today...I was waving my hand at her and calling her name over and over again but no reaction...It was brief but still….She's in bed. Looked real exhausted especially after that happened...I'm going to have to give Renee a call in the morning...Thanks...And please, really do tell Jacob that I'm sorry. I'll do it in person too next time I see him...Thanks. Night."
Well, all my act did was prolong the inevitable. Renee would answer the call and hop on the first plane to Seattle. I was no longer welcomed in Forks. Renee would be on high alert with a pathological liar in the house. I'd have to continue on as Bella. There was no escape.
A stupid idea crossed my mind. Crazy stupid.
Charlie audibly came back in through the front door and headed to his room. I sat on my bed, allotting him a reasonable amount of time to fall into a deep sleep before dialing a number buried deep in my notebook.
"Lauren, I know it's late but...do you have room for one more?"
Author's Note: So I promised updates every Wednesday and broke that promise the first chance I got. Whoops. Hopefully I won't let that happen again.