In the Land of Sweetwater

Ave Maria

"I would like to respect your wants and wishes, but a decision needs to be made as soon as possible," Charles said as we ate fluffy yellow eggs and buttered toast for breakfast.

Before the sun had poked up over the horizon, I had awoken surprisingly refreshed and still feeling like I'd stepped into a fairytale. I'd been floating in a dream all morning until gravity began to bear down on me, pulling me back to reality wherein I had to help Charles with arrangements for my mother. As I considered the options he'd brought to the table, I sipped the hot coffee I decided to try, appreciating the warm, bitter flavor tempered by the cream and single sugar cube I'd put in it. "I understand," I said quietly. "Where would I put the urn of ashes?"

"Anywhere you'd like. I have my own opinions and don't see a problem with cremation, but if you do, I can arrange for her to be buried like we discussed. You don't have to have a funeral for her, Isabella. I won't make you do that."

Mama wasn't a God-fearing woman and she never once mentioned final wishes of any kind. If I had to guess, Mama always knew she'd face death head on with her eyes wide open. There was no preparations or talk of such things because that wasn't how Mama worked. The only thing I was certain on was that she hated cemeteries. At least, that's what she said in explanation for the reason why we never went to Phil's grave. Cremation wasn't traditional in the least and Mama may have appreciated that in some way. "I think I'd like her to be cremated."

"Are you sure? There's no going back once things are in motion."

I nodded my head after I took the last sip of my coffee. "Yes. I'm sure. There's no reason to make a public spectacle out of things. I doubt anyone who'd show up to her funeral would actually be there to pay respects."

"You have a very good head on your shoulders. Decisive. I like that," Charles stated.

I didn't feel decisive at all, but maybe he saw something in me I couldn't yet. "There's no use trying to stop what comes. Just makes messes messier in the long run."

He shook his head. "Alright then. I don't want you to worry about anything."

"Char–" I had to clear my throat as I choked on his name. "Charles, I can't begin to thank you for everything you've done. I'm sure you remember that I have – that I had – a job at Walter's. Just looking at this house I'm aware that my status in life has changed dramatically, but I don't expect to be given so much for free. I'm sure I can find a job somewhere around here and I plan to pay you back for Mama's arrangements."

Charles' was clearly amused about something. "Isabella, I appreciate your honesty, but I'll do as I please with my money. I have sixteen years to make up for the way I see it. As far as you're concerned, the only job I want you focusing on is schooling. What year are you going into? Junior?"

Never once had my decision to quit school been a cause for embarrassment until that moment. "I never finished my sophomore year. I went to work."

His brows rose up at that. "You went to work. And what did Renee say about that?"

I shrugged. "She just signed the papers and said it was about time."

Charles' cheeks were turning ruddy and when he spoke his voice came out tight. "I hate that I wasn't able to be there for you."

His declaration was charged and I never knew someone's concern over my wellbeing could be so acutely uncomfortable on my part. I didn't know how to let anyone care about me, and maybe that was the saddest thing about the whole situation. "It really isn't your fault."

"Did she take your money?"

I had the sudden urge to cry, but I placed my hand onto my lap and clenched, letting my nails dig into my palm to distract me from tears. "Not until the end. I bought our groceries and a few necessities."

"Not until the end?"

"She took my money to leave. I'm sure most if not all of it is in her belongings," I said with a wave in what I thought to be the direction of my room.

"I'm sorry, Isabella."

I looked up to him and his dark eyes were shimmering in a way. "There's nothing to be sorry for. Like I said, you didn't know. Some people just aren't very nice."

"I know a thing or two about difficult mothers," Charles replied.

"Do you?"

"My mother was a handful. Often cruel. I'm not sure I was so much angry with Renee than I was with my mother. That's how I found out about you. My mother left you a trust."

"A trust? I don't understand."

Charles nodded and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "As executor, we'll have that conversation once everything is settled, but yes, she left you a trust. She knew all about you. Mentioned the money she'd given to Renee to help her with newborn expenses in exchange for Renee's silence." Charles' jaw ticked and I heard his teeth grind. "My mother was the queen of keeping up appearances and avoiding scandal. Eleanor Faye Beaumont-Swan. She was difficult to love and I was her favorite, so that's saying something."

I tiptoed right around the curious fact that some woman I shared blood with actively chose to never know me yet saw it fit to write me into her will. "Does you being her favorite mean I have aunts and uncles?"

Charles smiled, but it was so sad. "I had a younger sister. A spirited thing. She wasn't quiet and demure the way our mother would have preferred. Marie was always getting into trouble. I think that's why she was such good friends with your mother."

Intrigued, I asked, "When did they become friends?"

"The summer of 1939. Things were beginning to pick back up after the worst of the Depression. Mother decided to restore the gardens and clean up the orchard. Your grandfather knew plants well and was among those commissioned for the job. I guess it being summer and all, he had your mother tag along."

"I never knew much about my grandfather."

"Yes, Grandy Higginbotham. He was a character for sure. I was sad to read about his heart attack when I started to look into things after reading my mother's will."

"You'll have to tell me more sometime. I don't remember him much. Not really at all. I'm guessing you met my mama through your sister then?"

"I did. Renee was a year younger than Marie, but she took Renee under her wing and they became inseparable much to our mother's displeasure. I'm sure Mother assumed Renee would leave when autumn came, but Marie wasn't having that. She stole a car once to go get your mama," Charles said with a genuine laugh from deep in his belly. "Mother probably would have sent her off to boarding school then had our father not intervened. When he died that winter from pneumonia, I think Mother was too caught up in her own grief to care what Marie was doing for a stretch."

"What happened to her? Marie, I mean."

"Well, Marie didn't like being told what to do. By the fall of 1940, I was at Harvard and Mother had finally made good on her threats and put Marie in a boarding school to finish her diploma. That didn't go over so well. I got a letter from her in February of '41 saying she'd had enough of our mother and was on her way to Florida with some friends. Six months later, Mother received word Marie was among those killed in a hotel fire."

"That's so terrible," I said, saddened at the idea of such a young life being snuffed out.

"It was a long time ago. Sometimes it's easier for me to think she's still out there running around without a care in the world. But maybe now you can see why I lost touch with your mother. Why Marie didn't know about Renee being with child. The whole world was beginning to shift when you were born."

"I guess so. When did your mother pass?" I asked and thought it had to have been recent unless he'd waited to come look for me.

"About two months ago. Easter Sunday to be exact, which was so perfect for her, I have half a mind to believe she'd planned it out that way. Regardless, she'd been sick for so long, her death was merciful."

"I understand the feeling," I said. And I did. It was like I finally saw Charles in that moment and just how similar we really were. We didn't know each other at all, but he was just as alone as I was in the world with no family or anchor. It occurred to me that maybe Charles needed me just as much as I needed him. I'd never had a father before, not a real flesh and blood man like the one before me, so it was going to take some getting used to, but I was more than ready to give things a chance.

"Would you be willing to accompany me to services tomorrow?" Charles asked.

"Like church?"

"Yes. It's something I like to do and it seems like a nice way to start introducing you around."

The thought of being introduced to anyone else in Sweetwater set my nerves on edge. As much as I wanted to put such things off indefinitely it wouldn't be fair to Charles. "Of course I'll go."

"Thank you. It'll be nice to have someone to sit next to again," he said and looked like he may have embarrassed himself admitting it.

"You're welcome. It'll be nice to be included in something," I replied in my attempt to let him know what he said was welcome.

"Good. Speaking of, I wanted to discuss with you a few things around the house I realized you may not be aware of or comfortable with. You don't have to wait for set times to eat. While I do keep a schedule when I'm home, you're more than welcome to get whatever you want out of the kitchen. I'm sure Ms. Clearwater would be happy to whip something up for you."

"Alright."

He grinned. "And you don't have to stay here. Go out. Explore. You're sixteen years old. If you'd like to go somewhere, arrange for a car with Rhodes. I don't want you to be afraid to ask for what you want or need. Carlisle will be setting up an account for you with some of the money from your grandmother's trust. Something tells me you know how to manage a check book."

"I learned how in my home economics class last year. And how to iron shirts, mend buttons, and buy groceries and prepare meals for my future family," I said with a furrowed brow. I loathed that class even as I excelled in it.

Charles chuckled and pulled out his silver cigarette case. "I'd suggest waiting on the family part."

I smiled at that. "I'd have to agree with you there."

I thought I understood the vastness of Swan House and the surrounding property, but daylight showed me a different story. There was the main garden which I only saw a portion of the night before, laid out in a wide half circle that ended where grass began. I could see the small footbridge in the distance, much farther away than I thought, along with the statue I encountered. Nobody needed that much space all to themselves, but as I saw some of the workers out pulling weeds, I realized the house itself was a business that provided jobs for people. I was having a difficult time comprehending that Swan House was now my home and had been in my bloodline for several generations. What was real to me was how incredibly small I felt, a slip of a girl wandering around a foreign land awaiting the villains that were sure to come even as she wanted to believe with her whole heart everything was finally okay.

I heard a saying once that you can't teach an old dog new tricks. It was said about my former teacher who was doing things with other women he shouldn't have being married and all. Still, it stuck with me and I'd say it in my head sometimes whenever Mama made promises she didn't keep. I never thought of it in reference to myself before that moment, but it was difficult not to let my natural pessimism get in my way. Life had already taught me several hard lessons for one so young, but I didn't like to complain. Perhaps with a little time I'd learn to truly accept what happened to me, the bad and the good, and I'd finally fit somewhere without having to think so hard about it.

On the side of the house I hadn't yet explored, a field full of trees stretched out in rows. Apples and peaches mostly, but there were some nut trees from what I could tell. Charles mentioned an orchard at breakfast, but I didn't have it in me to imagine something so magnificent. I was going to need to start thinking much bigger if I was to make it around Sweetwater.

With no one around, I slipped my new shoes off and placed them underneath one of the apple trees before I began to walk through the orchard, losing myself in my thoughts like I often did. The skirt of my new dress looked like a bell swishing out from my hips and I wanted to twirl to make it spin out like girls did on those dancing programs. So I did just that, brought my arms out and spun, making myself laugh in the process.

"Now there's a sight to behold."

I jumped, my hand flying to my chest as I looked up. Leaning against the trunk of one of the taller trees was Edward Cullen. He was a casual figure in blue jeans, t-shirt, and those canvas basketball shoes. In the morning sun, his beauty made me blush. What fine features that boy had, even with the hint of sunburn across the tops of his cheeks. And the thick eyelashes he had framing his green eyes were enough to make any girl envy him. Something brand new and strange stirred in my belly as I stared, so I looked away and hugged my arms around me. "You could have made yourself known," I said quietly.

"But I didn't. Do you have a thing against shoes?"

I grinned a little. "Not particularly. My feet are still sore from yesterday. Sometimes toes need to breathe," I explained and immediately felt ridiculous saying such a thing.

Edward chuckled, though. "I guess so. They really are nice toes," he said, causing me to curl them up into the grass.

"Thank you?"

"So you're Isabella Swan. I was trying to work out who your mother might be or where you're from. I'm assuming Charles met your mother when he was at Harvard? But your accent isn't much different from ours."

I wasn't shocked Edward had questions. There were bound to be plenty more before everything was all said and done. "No. I was born right here in Virginia. Never left."

"Who's your mother?"

"Renee Higginbotham. Charles and her were never an item as far as I know."

"Well, they were together long enough to make you."

Edward was obviously a bold young man and our conversation was turning indecent fast. "I'm aware of that."

"What I should really be asking is why haven't you been around until now?"

Call it intuition, but I just knew I could be truthful with Edward. "That's the easy part. Charles didn't know about me. I believed another man was my father until two days ago."

Edward's face went frighteningly stoic. It made me nervous, like I'd said the wrong thing. "So you're the product of an affair?"

"What? No! They were teenagers. Charles went off to Harvard and my mother married another man before I was born."

"Hm. How old are you?"

"Sixteen. How old are you?"

"I'll be nineteen Thursday after next."

"I thought you might be older than that," I confessed, a little relieved he wasn't so far off from me.

"Sometimes I feel that way."

"Me too."

Edward surprised me when he took his plaid shirt from where it hung from his back pocket and spread it on the ground in offering to me so I wouldn't have to sit on the grass like he did. Something about his small act of kindness, that gentlemanly behavior, touched me so deeply I had to swallow the lump that formed in my throat.

"Are you really from one of the founding families?" I asked, eager to learn all I could about Edward and my new home.

He smirked. "Yes. So are you. The Swans are the founding family, but the Cullens and Masens were there helping things along. It was my great-great-grandfather who came up with the idea to put up flags indicating Swan House was a smallpox hospital so troops would give it a wide berth during the Civil War. Everyone says that's how this beast of a house survived."

"Oh my, that's awful. Clever, too."

"Awfully clever," Edward said with a chuckle. "I come from a long line of lawyers who know how to convince the masses of damned near anything."

"That has to be better than not knowing like me. Not the Swans or my mama's side. All I know is my grandfather was nice - at least I think he was – and that he gardened here at one point. As for my grandmother, I don't anything about her other than her name was Luda Belle Jenkins. My mother never talked much about family."

"Why don't you sit her down and ask her?"

I was waiting to feel something awful with Edward's casual mention of Mama, but I was surprisingly calm. "She died a few... recently. She died recently." I didn't want to go into details.

Edward leaned back as the corners of his mouth turned down. "Shit," he muttered. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Apologies and condolences were such odd things to offer strangers in regards to the death of yet another stranger. Still, I appreciated Edward's acknowledgment. "It's fine."

"Anyway, I wonder how Charlie's going to introduce you to the town," Edward mused as he scratched along his chin. There was a slight shadow, like he'd be in need of a close shave soon.

"Well, I've agreed to attend church services with him tomorrow. Do you know what faith he is?" I'd forgotten to ask.

"He's catholic like the majority of us. Only other church in Sweetwater is a Lutheran one on the edge of town."

I hummed as worry crept in. I didn't know anything about Catholic churches. "Now I'm afraid I'll mess something up. What do they do?"

"Paddle your bottom if you step out of line."

My eyes widened. "What?"

Edward's full lips pulled into a toothy smile. "My mother insisted I go to a Catholic school before I finished up at Sweetwater Prep. I was always stepping out of line and getting the paddle. I had one teacher who made us roll dice to decide how many swats we'd get. I'm the king of rolling double sixes, let me tell you."

I laughed. "Perhaps it's your own fault having to roll those dice to begin with."

"That's what I've been told. But don't worry about tomorrow. Just follow the lead for the most part. It's no big to-do."

"Will you be there?" I asked with hope he would be.

He whistled low. "I don't think so. I haven't set foot in St. John's since I was fifteen years old. I'll probably get struck with a lightning bolt or somethin', so it's for the best I stay away."

"You're silly. I understand, though. I can count on one hand the times I've been in a church to actually attend church."

"What do you mean?"

There's shame that comes along with poverty, but I had a feeling Edward wouldn't hold anything against me. "Sometimes, Mama and I had to get help with meals and clothes for me through the church."

"I reckon you won't have to worry about any of that now. Charlie's probably tickled to death to have someone to dote on."

"Does he prefer to be called Charlie or Charles?"

Edward shrugged. "He's always been Charlie to me. I've known him my whole life. My mother was friends with his sister way back when."

"Oh. Maybe she knew my mother. We didn't really get the chance to do much talking when I met her last night."

Confusion furrowed Edward's brows. "You met my mother?"

"Yes. Esme helped me pick out new clothes at her store," I said as I fiddled with the blue ribbon sewn around the hem of my dress.

"Gotcha. She isn't my mother. Elizabeth is. Esme was the other woman before she became my father's new wife," he said with an angry clench of his teeth.

I felt so awful for assuming anything about his family. "I'm so sorry. I just thought... I'm sorry."

Edward put his palm up to stop me. "It's alright. You wouldn't have known unlike everyone else around here. Going on pretending like nothing happened as if my mother wasn't discarded like yesterday's garbage. The only person left on her side after everything was me and Charlie's mother Eleanor. Charlie never gets in anyone else's business, so I couldn't hold anything against him either."

That explained why they seemed so close. It also explained why Edward was so nasty with his father in the garden. I wasn't completely oblivious to the ways of women and men, so I could see how he'd be angry. Divorce was an incredibly taboo topic no one liked to talk about. "Does she still live in Sweetwater?"

Edward shook his head. "She was pushed out. Friends she'd had for years stopped inviting her over and started to invite Esme instead. I'd visit her on the weekends in the cottage she rented and see how lonely she was. She lives in Norfolk now and waitresses at a diner. She seems happier."

He wasn't painting a very nice picture of the people of Sweetwater. "I'm glad she got away then."

"People with money, they have a habit of pretending the ugly or inconvenient parts don't exist. It's just... it's frustrating. They don't think about how their beds get made each morning, or how their meals turn up three times a day. They don't worry about how their yards stay mowed, or how their laundry appears fresh in the closet. It's disgusting how much power a check book holds."

"You think so?"

"I do. To be honest with you, I'll be inheriting an obscene amount of money myself on my next birthday and my father cannot stand that I haven't chosen a university to attend this fall," he said with a bitter grin. "What's the point? He doesn't understand. Burns his ass that his only child is over here doing manual labor. In his eyes, my sole purpose is to perpetuate the legacy of becoming like him just like he became his father and so on and so forth. Sick to death of it all."

His voice became quieter as he rambled on until he ended with a whisper. It's like he forgot I was there or maybe he was so used to no one listening that he assumed I wasn't. We may have grown up worlds apart, but we weren't so different, Edward and me. While I never had money and he had too much money, we both were in need of something that was just ours, that we alone worked for. I placed my hand on his knee and his eyes met mine, stormy and vulnerable. "What do you want to be?" I asked.

His lips twitched like he wanted to smile but couldn't manage to just then. "I don't know."

"You seem like a smart young man. I'm sure you'll come up with something eventually."

Edward moved to hold my hand in his. "You promise you're only sixteen?"

"Yes."

"You're very easy to talk to, Isabella," he said. "It's nice to be heard."

"I understand."

Edward cleared his throat and looked at the watch he wore on his left wrist. "I have to get going. I'm supposed to meet my mother for lunch. She hates when I'm late."

"Oh. You enjoy yourself, Edward."

"Will do. Would you like me to walk you back to the house?"

"No, thank you. I want to walk around a little more. Get familiar with everything around here."

Edward smiled. "Don't go gettin' lost. And steer clear of the work houses just beyond the orchard. Awful, awful people."

I would have taken him seriously if I hadn't caught the mischievous spark in his eyes. "You people aren't so bad," I teased.

It must have been the right thing to say. "Ha! You're right. I'll see you around, Isabella Swan."

"I hope so, Edward Cullen," I said to the trees. Edward was swift on his feet and already too far away to have heard me.

By eight-thirty the following morning, I was dressed up and looking as nice as I possibly could as Charles and I headed to church. What an imposing building St. John's was. The only church I'd ever been to was a whitewashed clapboard place where they held ice cream socials and the Independence Day picnic. St. John's loomed over the hill with its rosy bricks, gabled roof, and towering spire topped with a gold cross that glinted in the morning sunlight. Men, women, and children were dressed to impress as we were all ushered in, Charles and I two of the last people to enter.

It was humid inside and the varnished wood of the pews was sticky against my palms as I sat next to Charles in the back center row. The stained glass windows filtered in warm sunshine, lighting up the murals and tapestries and statues situated around the place. It was even more beautiful upfront where an altar and chair sat waiting for the priest. I tried not to be nervous and to just follow the lead like Edward said, but I wasn't feeling so sure as I looked around at all the ornate decorations and mass of people. Unfortunately, I noticed a whole lot of the people were looking right back at me, most of them turning to whisper to their companions who turned to look at me as well.

I sat with my best posture and smoothed my hand down my hair that was longer than everyone else's, nearly down to my waist. It was my security, a curtain to hide behind, and I'd gone and styled it back to look nice. Charles seemed completely oblivious to the attention we were getting as he read over the service program he'd picked up on our way in. That awful feeling was back, the tightening up in my chest that made my skin prickle with sweat. There were several girls who looked to be about my age who were clearly sizing me up, one of them a shockingly beautiful blonde girl arching her brow in my direction. I was used to girls not being so nice back home, so it wasn't bothering me too much, but it was the grown people who were making me the most uncomfortable. I was sure adults knew better than to stare, but I was obviously a topic of intrigue.

There I sat trying to decide how disappointed Charles would be if I bolted back to the car like some coward when my eyes caught with the sleepy, icy blues of Carlisle Cullen. He was looking at me so strangely... expectant, perhaps, and his gaze never wavered. My anxiety kicked up a notch as I sat locked in place, waiting for him to blink or turn away, but he never did. Instead, the doors behind me opened with a loud bang that caught everyone's attention, my own included. I twisted in my seat to see Edward walking in.

He was a welcome sight, not only as my tentative friend, but his beauty was unmatched. He knew it, too, and he wore that knowledge in the poise with which he walked. His smirk was there as he stared right back at everyone looking, his hair too long in the front so several pieces fell over his forehead. Good Lord, he looked like trouble dressed in black as he slid into the pew next to me, resting his arm easily across the back.

"Hey, Charlie," Edward whispered overtop my head.

"Hello, Edward," Charles answered without once looking up from that program. It must have been the most interesting read he'd had in awhile.

If I thought people were staring before, they were really staring with the prodigal son back in church and cozying up to the new girl in town. I lacked Edward's gall, but I could feel their curious stares that bore into us, leaving my cheeks hot with embarrassment. Edward must have known how I felt because he leaned down to my ear to speak reassurances, his breath tickling the side of my neck and making my stomach flutter the same way it did when we were in the orchard. "Don't worry about them lookin', Isabella. Everyone in this town was born bored to death with too much money and you're something new and exciting."

I looked up, his face so close to mine. "You think so?"

He did nothing to put any space between us. "I know so. Look at me. You got me in a suit without much trying. Decided I couldn't miss this for the world."

"It is a nice suit. I'm glad you're here," I said with sincerity.

He ran his fingers down the inside of my wrist before squeezing my hand. "So am I."