Chapter Summary: Do I take things for granted? Today forcefully impressed this realization on me that I do. And in something as small as this, with me so quick to judge and to condemn, and Bella trying so, so hard for me. And she picked me why again?
Bella and I walked from the garage after I had parked the BMW.
The trip back from Charlie's had been interesting — a quiet ride — because the initial shock of seeing Bella looking like she looked just didn't fade away.
I mean, I'm sure Charlie said something as we left, something about bedtimes and making sure Bella had a key if he was still out fishing on Sunday when she was returned. I'm sure of it. And I'm sure I said something appropriate in response.
I could even repeat every word, if I bothered to care enough.
But I don't.
I didn't even realize I was speeding … for me … until Bella asked, white-knuckled, if I were planning on killing her quickly by crashing into an obliging tree or just by scaring her to death with these hairpin turns on back country roads.
I slowed down from 180 mph to a more reasonable speed. I had disabled the electronic speed inhibitors; I could never understand why would they artificially limit an M3 to a mere 150 mph speed. Who would cripple a car like that? But then Bella asked if we could at least slow down below three digits, so I slowed to a crawl.
I would have considered just driving, and not stopping, forever. Who needs the Cullens anyway?
Bella was a big girl now, too, right? She didn't need to see her father anymore, right?
Like I said, I would have considered that, if Alice's 'friendly' reminder in the form of a text message hadn't preempted me.
So here we were, holding hands, at Bella's request, walking to the door.
Too slowly for somebody.
A white flash, even for my eyes, projected a gleeful cry of 'Belllll-laaah!' as it intercepted us and swung the girl in question in a slow and lazy circle.
For us that is.
Bella said: "Alice, if you don't put me down, I'm gonna puke!"
Alice did put her down, but then had to hold up my one and only (and dizzy) love, as she tended to stagger sideways for a moment as she regained what little balance she had.
"Didn't I tell you she did it? Didn't I?" Alice crowed.
"You told her?" Bella pouted to Alice.
And there Alice stood, pleased as punch with her protégée.
I crossed my arms. "She told me nothing!" I snarled, "and made me assume the worst! The worst!"
"Like what?" Bella asked in confusion. "Like, I had broken my neck or died or something?"
"No!" My narrowed eyes shot daggers at Alice whose grin remained firmly fixed in place, undimmed by my foul mood.
My eyes also (re)confirmed that Bella still had every beautiful strand of chocolate brown hair still on her head.
Yes, she was still pre-Alien³ Ripley, I was relieved to see.
And, yes, she was still surrounded by monsters scarier than any alien Ridley Scott or H.R. Giger could imagine.
Except this Ripley here likes 'hanging' out with us monsters, for some inexplicable reason.
And asking questions.
"Well, then, like what?" she demanded, looking at me quizzically.
I fumed at Alice, and at Bella for even making me think she might pull a stunt like that.
"Nothing!" was all I could bark in return, embarrassed out of my mind that I envisioned such a calamity as Bella shorn. Such a silly notion of mine that I so vainly entertained, whipping myself into such a state. And now I was embarrassed that I was embarrassed, which came out as anger.
Alice sniggered.
"Never mind the touchy blond," Alice exclaimed. "Look at you, Bella, just look at you!"
Alice wrapped Bella in a bear hug, lifting her up.
"Jeez! Alice!" Bella complained. "It's not like you've never seen me in a dress before …"
For standing before us was not the girl-next-door Bella wearing blue jeans and a brown sweater, but was a sweet little girl in a red maxi halter dress with an ivory floral print.
A sweet little modest girl, she wore a white shawl over her shoulders.
Bella Swan was in a dress.
"Yes," answered Alice excitedly, "but this is the first time you went shopping for a dress …"
"… with Charlie …" added Bella in edgewise, which was the only way to speak when Alice was on a tear.
"… and decided to wear it!" squealed Alice with delight. "I never thought I would see the day when you're dressier than Rosalie. Look at you two," she exclaimed, "you in a dress and Rosalie in blue jeans!" Then Alice turned to me. "Doesn't she look amazing, Rosalie?"
Here Alice nodded her head up-and-down, up-and-down, demanding my agreement.
Bella looked to me, hopefully, seeking my approval.
I pursed my lips.
"Well," I said critically, "let's see."
A touch of fear entered Bella's eyes as I circled her completely, examining her head to toe.
Bella stood up straighter under my sharp gaze, straightening her dress by pulling down on it was a nervous motion and then smoothing out an imagined wrinkle.
As if that would help her case.
"The dress is too rust a color for her, it matches neither her hair nor her eyes, and the ivory doesn't match her skin tone at all, it should have been white or silver," I buzzed to Alice. "She's a Winter, after all."
"Yes, but …" Alice began.
"And the fabric," I added, "what is it, cotton? This house dress probably costs much less than one hundred dollars, you can tell by the quality of the cut and the stitching of the hem."
Alice glared at me, so I continued my critique in silence.
Like for example the black flats with white socks, not stockings? With the white shawl?
She looked like a six-year-old.
On top of that, the flats were cheap shoes. They couldn't have been more than thirty dollars, and it showed. And, if she wore those flats for any length of time, she'd feel it. You spend good money on shoes, and you get good shoes that comfort you as they conform to you. The flats Bella was wearing were not good shoes; I could see them biting into the back of her ankles.
I finished my circle around Bella and came to face her.
"Well," Bella asked timidly, "what do you think?"
"Lie, Rosalie!" Alice snarled. "Lie your ass off!"
Bella looked in annoyance between me and Alice who was giving me a death glare.
"If you two want to have a conversation without me, I can just go back home, you know," Bella said with irritation.
Alice cleared her throat. "I was just reminding Rosalie what I told her earlier today," she told Bella as she gave me a very arch expression.
Bella raised her eyebrow at me, so I clarified. "No, Bella," I said, "Alice was telling me to lie, but I'm not going to do that." I put my hands on her shoulders. "I'm going to tell you what I really think."
"Which is …?" Bella asked, bracing herself.
"What I think is, Bella," I looked her right in the eye. "God, you look so beautiful!"
Because that was what I really thought, for I saw through her bumbling attempt, it was, truly, an attempt. She was playing dress up, and it so went against her nature, and that really showed, but she was dressing up for me.
And that really showed, too.
And she was spending money she couldn't afford to spend. The dress was a cheap house dress in my eyes, but I was a partner in a hedge fund pushing past the billion dollar ceiling. Bella had to work at the Newton's outfitters store for pocket money. I realized that the money Bella spent on her dress came out of money she probably needed to spend elsewhere, like food for herself and Charlie. Charlie could support himself on his job, but the addition of a teenaged daughter, although welcomed, was indeed another mouth to feed, and that was a burden on a police chief's salary.
Bella was doing something for me, and I realized she truly had to make an effort to do this little thing: wearing a dress.
With this perspective on Bella's sacrifice, I embraced her tightly.
Bella returned my hug tentatively.
Bella pulled back and looked at Alice, "So you told her to lie because …"
"Because," Alice snapped back, "I thought she was going to get all Rosalie and be all critical."
"I think," I said, "my little sister doesn't know me as well as she thinks she does."
I was looking at Alice smiling proudly at me. Smiling with relief, too.
"I think," Alice added, "you may be right in just this one case."
I snorted at my little pixie sister.
Bella pulled back. "So why the grand examination and the running private conversation between you two?" Then she explained, looking reproachfully at me, "You did look really critical at me when you were circling me, you know."
"I hope I did," I answered right back.
"Um, what?" Bella asked confused.
"Bella," I exclaimed, "you are wearing a dress! Remember the shocked look I'm sure I had on my face when I first saw you?"
Bella grinned.
"So?" she asked after her pleasurable recollection.
"So, how can I admire your beauty if I'm dazzled by it? I had to get a good look at you to confirm what my eyes were seeing."
"Um," Bella said, pleased, "you guys do the dazzling, I'm the dazzl-… um 'dazzlee.'" She paused. "That's a word, right?"
"Bella," I sighed, "there's probably some DVD set or comic book that has that word. I'm not as 'hip' with the modern vernacular as you are."
"Hm," Bella looked at me thoughtfully. "You do look a little like the Dazzler."
"The what?" I asked Bella, displeased that there was another thing that she knew that I didn't.
"You know," Bella explained looking away, "that disco queen super heroine in the comic books …?"
"Oh, really?" I asked. "How so?"
"Well, you're blond and you sparkle …" Bella offered.
Alice giggled, and I sighed.
"Allow me to guess," I said, rolling my eyes: "Should I get a pair of roller skates and a white polyester outfit then?" I asked.
Alice squealed enthusiastically at the idea, clapping her hands and bouncing in place.
"Don't even think it!" I growled at my little sister.
"Why not?" Bella asked, smiling, "I kinda like that idea."
"Oh?" I demanded, crossing my arms. "Tell you what, Bella, I'll put on roller skates when you do."
Bella blanched. "Um, …" she backpedalled, probably seeing very clearly the trip to the hospital, or at least the very serious bruises that her putting on roller skates would produce.
So I moved the conversation away from that topic.
"Let's get you inside, the others are probably beside themselves with curiosity, knowing how Alice takes so much delight in not telling everybody anything."
Alice stuck her tongue out at me. "And spoil the surprise? What if I did tell you, and you went to pick her up expecting this? Do you like boring?"
"Alice," I snarled, "just because you are right does not endear me to you at this moment. And you could have forewarned me about Charlie's need to share while I'm nearly crazed with an imagination running rampant with concern over Bella."
"I thought Charlie was saying nice things to you," Bella said in confusion.
"He did say nice things … eventually," I said exasperatedly. "Look, let's get inside."
As I corralled Bella toward the house, Alice couldn't resist asking why Bella had chosen to play dress-up.
Of course Bella blushed, which gave both of us vampires another unnecessary swallow of venom, and she stammered out that she just felt like wearing a dress, is all.
"Oh, okay," Alice said easily.
But my little sister gave me a sideways glance, full of significance, which I pretended to ignore.
Bella Swan, the world's worse liar, had a reason for dressing up.
I wonder what that could possibly be.
I would find out, I was sure.
Just before we went into the door, Bella turned to me and whispered, "What do you really think, Rosalie?"
I looked at Bella for a second.
"Remember," I said, "when you kept asking if I liked the car show, until I told you I wouldn't any more if you kept asking?"
"I know," Bella answered ashamedly, but then continued doggedly: "but … what do you really think?"
"What I really think," I said with conviction, "is that I'm so proud and pleased and amazed and … dazzled by you, Bella. That's what I think."
"Really?" she asked, with big, round eyes.
"Really," I answered. Yes, we could work on taking her to the next level when she was ready for that. She wasn't ready for that now. What she was ready for was for me to be both honest and appreciative, and my compliments were both, because she looked so much better now in what she saw as dressy clothes, and that smile that she gave me, it wasn't filled with confidence, but it was filled with just a little bit of joy that she pleased me.
And if she wasn't wearing that smile, I wouldn't want to see her in one of my Jimmy Choo gowns, anyway. I'd rather have her in blue jeans and that smile than dressy and sad. Always.
We went in with Bella glowing. We got the full-court press from Esme. The way she squealed, you would think Bella was Errol Flynn, coming for a personal visit, right here in Forks, Washington. Or who was the teen idol these days? Zac Enron? That's how Esme looked like when she saw Bella, a squealing fan girl on a dream date with Zac Enron or whomever.
My family! I thought ruefully to myself. I've been with them for more than eighty years now. I don't know how I've managed to put up with them for all this time.
Chapter end notes:
[1] The Dazzler was a comic book heroine that could 'dazzle' her opponents with 'bubbles' of light. She had blond, wavy hair, and roller-skated about in her white polyester suit, doing good deeds. She was a dancing queen at a disco bar. I'm not making any of this up.
[2] Of course, it's Zac Efron, not Zac Enron. Rosalie isn't very hip on modern teen idols, either. I'm not sure if she cares all that much either way. You could ask her, if you'd like. And for those of you saying 'Oh, but Zac Efron is so old news. He's so 2006,' I have only this to say: this story is set in 2006, okay?