Thank you to my two Project Team Beta betas, DeanWinchester-myheart and StoryPainter. Also, thank you to all who have reviewed!
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This is the first chapter that flip-flops back and forth between 1918 and 2009, after this they all will until...
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Disclaimer – All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc., are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
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WOOHOO! I'm so excited! Several months ago one of my lovely readers, Cared, was kind enough to review and recommend I remain, Yours on Rob Attack, and I thank her very much for that! Now, as we are at the end of another year, they are having a poll to vote for your favorite fic reviewed and recommended during 2012, and IrY is in the running for Best WIP of the Year! Now, since I am very definitely not above begging for votes, I am doing just that-so please, PLEASE, PLEASE, vote for I remain, Yours for Best WIP of the Year on Rob Attack! I do have a link, but FFn won't allow links-they delete them automatically-and I'm afraid to try to post it removing the dot com's and risking pissing of the FFn Gods and getting my story pulled. If you google Rob Attack Best of 2012, it'll take you to the site and you can scroll down to the right link, or check out Twilighted or The Writer's Coffee Shop for the link if you have trouble finding it.
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Please vote for I remain, Yours!
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"It's not a problem, Mrs. Ruiz, really. I'll come right over."
Bella could hear her neighbor laughing on the other end of the line. "Really, Bella, I've told you to call me Sonia. You make me feel old. Mrs. Ruiz is my mother-in-law."
"Right, sorry, Sonia."
"Are you sure it's not a problem? I'm sorry it's last minute."
"It's fine, really. I don't have anything planned, and I could use the money. My mom and Phil are getting married, and I want to get them something."
"Oh! That's wonderful! Oh, he's so handsome! And so young! Good for her, it's good to see an older woman with a younger man for a change. It's been the other way around for too long; not that your mother is older, but you know what I mean. Oh, I'm so happy for her. He seems so nice. I'll have to come over and see her ring. Have they set a date? Is it going to be a big wedding?"
Bella smiled to herself. Nothing got most women excited like a wedding. For her own wedding, though, she thought eloping to Vegas sounded pretty good. Not that she really planned on ever getting married anyway. "I'll tell you all about it when I get there, I promise."
"Oh, good. You're really sure it's okay? I'm sorry it's last minute. They only just called, and Carlos is working on a paper for school. I can't believe he's almost done. When he went back to college, it seemed like he would never finish, but now it's almost here already."
"I'm sure. It's fine, really. Kenny and I are buds. We'll hang out. I'll take him to the park and let him run around so he doesn't make noise around the house and disturb his father."
"Thanks loads, Bella, you're an absolute life saver. I'll see you soon."
Bella hung up the phone as her mother walked in the room, hunting through her purse looking for something. "Who was that on the phone?"
"Sonia Ruiz, she got called in to work and asked if I could come over and watch Kenny. Her husband is home, but he's working on a paper for school. What are you looking for?"
"I can't find the card Abby gave us for that store she told us about that rents jewelry."
Bella was getting her purse out of the closet as she answered, "You put it in the address book by the phone."
"Oh, right."
Bella shook her head and smiled fondly at her mother; she would loose a limb if they weren't all attached. "I told her about the wedding. She's very happy for you. She said she'd come over to see the ring."
Renee had not wanted a diamond. She, Phil, and Bella were all born in September, and she and Phil had met in September, so she wanted a sapphire. She chose an emerald cut sapphire with a small, trilliant cut diamond on either side and two rows of very small, accent diamonds running along the yellow gold band between very fine white gold bead work. It looked both old and modern at the same time and was absolutely beautiful.
After making sure her cell phone was in her purse, Bella looked back at her mother, who she knew would be staring at the ring on her finger. No one could ever mention the ring without her mother stopping whatever she was doing to stare at it with a happy, dreamy expression on her face. "Earth to Renee."
"Very funny. You just wait until your day comes. I'm so going to enjoy watching you freak out over cake flavors and twenty different pink roses."
"No way. If I ever get married, I'm running off to Vegas."
"BELLA!"
"Gotta run, Mom, Mrs. Ruiz is waiting for me. See you later."
Sonia Ruiz was waiting for her at the door. The Ruiz family had moved next door to Bella and her mom when Kenny was just a baby. Sonia Ruiz managed a trendy clothing store that Bella knew was popular with a lot of girls in her school, and her husband, Carlos, worked in construction but had gone back to school part-time. Kenny was now a highly energetic four-year-old, who loved reminding everyone he was almost five by holding his little hand up with his fingers spread wide, and Bella adored him. She babysat several children in the neighborhood, but Kenny was easily her favorite. "Thank you so much, again, for coming at the last minute, Bella. I'm sorry you had to change your plans. Pamela and Lexi both called off sick and Tara is there alone."
What plans? Bella thought to herself. One of the reasons she got so much babysitting business was because she hardly ever, if ever, had plans. She was always available. The people she babysat for were all well aware of that, she knew, even if they pretended otherwise.
Sonia was giving a last kiss goodbye to her son before running out the door. "Mommy has to go to work for a little while, but I have a surprise for you." Kenny looked up from his plate of baked macaroni and cheese with his bottom lip already starting to quiver, but his mother continued before he could cry for her to stay home with him, "Miss Bella is here."
Kenny broke out into a huge smile and jumped down from the table, running to Bella, who scooped him up in the air and blew raspberries on his stomach. "Miss Belly!" Bella was his favorite babysitter; she played the best games and made the best voices when she read to him. He always called her "Miss Belly" instead of "Miss Bella" because she would always blow raspberries on his stomach.
Bella put him on her hip and carried him back to the kitchen table. "You have a lunch to finish, young man."
Sonia was slipping out the door before her son had a chance to remember she was leaving and to start crying. "Help yourself, Bella. I left it in the stove to keep warm for you."
Oh, yes! Oh, yes, oh, yes, oh yes!
"You don't have to tell me twice, Mrs. Ruiz. Sorry, sorry, Sonia. You make the best mac-n-cheese." Bella used the hot pads to take the casserole dish out of the stove and got herself a plate of some of the best mac-n-cheese in the world. This didn't come out of any box. It was homemade and had diced tomatoes and was so creamy. In short, it was little golden curls of heaven on a plate.
Around a mouth full of food Kenny asked, "Can we go to the park, Miss Belly? Can we? Can we?"
Bella smiled and closed her eyes as she took the first bite. Oh, yes, this was good. She would babysit for free any day of the week for a plate of this. "Do we talk with our mouths full, Kenny?"
Kenny swallowed his next mouthful and then apologized. He really was the sweetest of the children she watched. "No, Miss Belly, I'm sorry."
"Yes, we can go to the park, but you have to finish all your lunch first. Then, I have to rinse our plates and put them in the dishwasher."
As they finished their lunches, Kenny excitedly told her everything he was going to play on at the park. Once the dishes were in the dish washer, Bella told him to get his shoes, and she would help him put them on and tie them and went to tell Mr. Ruiz-sorry, Carlos-they were leaving for the park.
After about two hours at the park, Kenny had played on everything from the swings to the slides and had run all around with his arms out wide pretending to be an airplane. Bella knew he usually took a nap for a little while around this time, so she called him off the seesaw and told him it was time to go.
"Oh, please can we stay, just a little while? I'm not tired. I don't wanna nap." Bella knelt down to his level and told him he might not be tired, but she was old and tired and she needed a nap.
Wide-eyed, Kenny looked up at her in childish amazement. "You take naps, too, Miss Belly? You can share Franklin, if you want." Franklin was his favorite toy, a stuffed turtle named after his favorite cartoon and books.
"Thank you, Kenny. I'd like that very much."
They walked the three blocks back home hand in hand, and Kenny was yawning and rubbing his eyes by the time they reached his house. Bella sat with him on her lap on the couch and read to him for a while, and he was asleep, with Franklin curled protectively in his arm, half way through the book. Once she was sure he was sound asleep, Bella turned a movie on with the volume down low to not disturb him. Sonia arrived home just as the movie was going off, and Bella managed to get out from under the little boy without waking him up and thanked Sonia as she paid her for watching Kenny.
"I hope he was good for you."
"He's never a problem. We went to the park for a while, and he's been asleep for at least an hour and a half. Thanks again, call me anytime."
No one was there when Bella got home, and she took her babysitting money straight to her room. Now she had something to put in the hidden compartment in her desk. She wanted to save up some money to get her mom and Phil a really nice wedding gift, but she had no idea what and was running over different ideas in her head as she pulled out the drawer and opened the compartment. Setting it down on the desk, she started laughing to herself as she thought of the letter she had written. She felt completely silly for having written a letter to a man who lived one hundred years ago, but she had to admit, there was something kind of fun about it.
"I wonder if you ever became a doctor, EdwAAAAHH!"
Bella screamed and jumped away from the desk; she tripped over the laundry basket on the floor next to her bed and fell backward into her dresser. Sitting on the floor, trying to catch her breath, she stared disbelievingly at the desk.
You imagined it. That's all. You had to have. You're being ridiculous. Right. Of course. That's all. You imagined it.
After a few minutes, Bella calmed herself down and convinced herself she hadn't seen... what she thought she'd seen. It was silly. It was ridiculous. It was completely insane. Did she really think she'd seen… what she thought she'd seen? Crap, she couldn't even admit to herself what she thought she'd seen. "Right. Okay. You're not crazy… you just… you just thought… you saw… something… you didn't. Your eyes were just playing tricks on you, that's all. Right... so… just… just get up and… look again. You just… you just saw the letter you found yesterday, and, and… you just imagined... Right. Of course. All that's there is the letter you found yesterday and the one you wrote. You just…imagined… that… other one. Crap, now you're talking to yourself, and if that's not a sure sign of crazy…."
Bella took a deep breath and pushed herself up. She took a few short, slow steps toward the desk, trying to crane her neck to see into the drawer without having to go any closer. After several very small steps, she was able to see inside, and she stood, rooted to the spot, unable to believe what she was seeing. "Oh… My... God…. Oh, my God…. Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my GOD!" She hadn't imagined it. There was a letter there, but it was not the letter she had written. It was a different one in the same old fashioned, slanted handwriting, written with the same fountain pen, and on the same paper as the first one. And it had her name on it.
"OhGodohGodohGodohGodohGod."
Breathe, Bella. Breath... Breath in, breathe out.
After several deep breaths, Bella went in one second from being frozen in place to almost launching herself at the desk and grabbing the letter. She was trying to read it so fast that, short as it was, she had to read it five times before she could actually comprehend it.
June 25, 1918
My Dear Miss Bella Swan,
I fail to comprehend how you could have "found" a letter that was safely in my desk, but I would like it returned.
As for what you say about the end of the war, as much as I would like to believe it, I fail to see how you could possibly presume to know such a thing. The 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month? Are you a carnival fortune teller, Miss Swan?
Lastly, Miss Swan, you may wish to reconsider reading other people's personal correspondence and then finding fault with them. Some may see that as arrogant or hypocritical. I remain,
Edward Anthony Masen
"Oh. My. God." Bella sat at her desk, breathing heavily and with her heart racing in her chest, the letter in one hand and her head in the other. "I just got a letter that was written ninety one years ago... TO ME." Looking back and forth between the letter and the drawer, she made a decision and grabbed her notebook and a pen. "Sanity is highly overrated."
Edward Masen? Son of Edward Masen, Sr.? Grandson of Richard Masen? The Richard Masen who was a Major in the Union Army during the Civil War? Edward Masen who was born in 1901?
Bella looked at what she had written. It looked rather inadequate in her opinion, but what were you supposed to write to someone who was living ninety one years in the past? "Hey, guess what? Movies talk now." Taking another deep breath, Bella put her letter in the hidden compartment and put the drawer back in the desk. She stood and paced in her room so lost in thought that when Phil called her name, she screamed.
"Bella? What is it? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
Bella started to laugh hysterically and couldn't stop.
What's wrong? Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. Oh, hey, guess what, I may have gotten a new pen pal. Yeah, his name is Edward. Oh, and by the way, HE LIVES IN FREAKING 1918!
Laughing so hard she was leaning on her desk, doubled over, Bella was barely able to breathe. Phil was worried and came into her room; he had been in the hall when he called her name. "Bella? Honey?" He came and knelt down next to her and took her hands in his. "Bella, look at me. Honey, if you've taken anything I need you to tell me." His tone of voice was so deadly serious it made her laugh even harder. If she wasn't leaning against the desk, she'd have fallen over. She wasn't on drugs, but she did wonder if maybe she should be.
Bella tried to tell him she was fine, but she could barely speak, "I'm" gasp "fine." gasp "I'm not on" gasp "drugs."
Phil didn't look the least bit convinced. Apparently, sudden maniacal laughter for no apparent reason was cause for concern. Bella tried to calm herself down.
After several attempts, she was able to speak, "Really, Phil, I'm fine. I'm not on drugs." She started laughing again. "I'm afraid I do have bad news for you, though. Apparently, insanity runs in our family."
Looking at her like he wondered if that might be true, Phil said, "That certainly explains a lot. Your mom is in the yard, she bought some flowers to put in containers. We got burgers for the grill and salad."
"Oh, good. I'll be right out."
Still looking at her strangely, Phil went back outside. Surprised, Bella realized she really was hungry. Going crazy seemed to work up an appetite. Who knew? Fidgeting and with butterflies in her stomach, she couldn't stand it any longer and opened the hidden compartment back up and started laughing like a madman again. Her letter was gone. "Who knew going totally bat shit crazy would be this much fun?"
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..ooOoo.. ..ooOoo.. ..ooOoo..
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"Edward, is something wrong, dear? You have not strung two words together since returning from the theater. Edward? Edward?"
Edward looked up, startled out of his thoughts. It had already been a very long day, and it was not yet over. He had come downstairs with one of his favorite books, intending to distract himself, and joined his mother in the parlor, where she was seated knitting while listening to the Victrola and humming softly to herself. His father had just arrived home and was in his study, reviewing files he would need at work the next day. "I apologize, Mother. What did you say?"
"I asked what is wrong, dear. What has you looking so worried?"
Am I looking worried? I cannot imagine why. Oh, Mother, incidentally, do you by any chance know if we have any mental illness in our family? I only ask because I appear to have suddenly lost my marbles and now believe that there is someone living in my desk, and she stole my letter to Mic. I have even named her.
His mother was looking at him in concern, and he reassured her nothing was wrong. "Nothing is wrong, Mother. I am perfectly fine."
"Edward Anthony Masen," his mother said sternly.
Oh, no, Edward thought to himself, the full name.
"Something is bothering you; it is plainly obvious. You have not said more than two words since returning home and immediately hiding yourself away in your room, and you have not turned a page in your book since opening it. You were so absorbed in whatever it is you were thinking of, I had to call your name three times before you answered me. Did you quarrel with your friends?"
He had to think of something to reassure her. "No, no, Mother. I apologize for my rudeness. I assure you, I am quite all right. I was, I was thinking about the men at the hospital."
"Are you sure, dear? Truly, you look quite pale."
Edward decided the best thing to do was to pretend to be feeling unwell and return to his room, where he could sit quietly not reading his book while very definitely not thinking about letters or imaginary girls as much as he wished until he was called for dinner. "You may be right, Mother. Now that you mention it, I do have a slight headache. I believe I will go lie down before dinner."
His mother came over to him and felt his forehead for any sign of a fever. "Of course, dear. Hm, you don't feel warm."
"It is only a headache, Mother. I am quite well otherwise."
Elizabeth knelt in front of her son and took his hands in hers. Her hands, as Edward knew, were much stronger than they looked, and her grip was unsurprisingly firm. "Edward, dearest, you are doing all you can for the men. The hardest job any doctor has is to leave his patients in the hospital when he returns home. You must also learn to accept that you cannot help everyone no matter how dearly you wish it."
Edward leaned forward and kissed his mother on the forehead. "Thank you, Mother."
Once in his room, Edward stood just inside the door staring at his desk. "Just… walk over there and look. Just… walk over there, open the drawer, and look." He remained just inside the door and berated himself.
You are a coward, Edward Masen. You have friends fighting the Germans, and you are afraid to open a desk drawer.
Feeling rather silly, Edward walked determinedly over to his desk, looked in the hidden compartment, and immediately collapsed into his desk chair.
Why am I surprised? Did I not expect this?
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Edward attempted to steady his nerves before picking up the letter.
Edward Masen? Son of Edward Masen, Sr.? Grandson of Richard Masen? The Richard Masen who was a Major in the Union Army during the Civil War? Edward Masen, who was born in 1901?
"Oh, hell. In for a penny, in for a pound. Better to be committed for being completely insane than only a little." Edward grabbed a sheet of paper and his pen and ink.
June 25, 1918
My Dear Miss Swan,
Yes, Edward Masen, Sr. is my father, and my grandfather was Major Richard Masen of the Union Army. May I ask how you know my family? As you read in my letter, I am 17, so, yes, obviously, I was born in 1901.
I must ask, have I lost my mind? I put a letter in my desk only to have it vanish and be replaced with yours. I have seen magicians, but I have never seen a trick such as this. I was told recently that some things are not meant to be understood, just accepted and appreciated. However, I confess, I am finding it very difficult to do so. I must know. How are you doing this? Who are you? I remain,
Edward Masen
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..ooOoo.. ..ooOoo.. ..ooOoo..
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Phil was in full Master of the Grill mode.
Phil at the Grill.
Bella realized she really shouldn't think like that, or she'd start laughing like a madman again, and she was pretty sure if she did that, Phil might take her for a drug test. Or a mental health evaluation. Or possibly both. It was really amazing, she mused, that most men couldn't cook in the kitchen other than to boil water, but put them outside over an open flame and look out.
"Here is one fat, juicy Angus burger for my lady, another one for yours truly, and one lone, sad, little garden-so-called-burger-type-thing for our resident mental patient."
Renee took the plates from Phil as Bella tossed the salad. "Mental patient?"
Glancing at Bella from where he was going through his Proper Grill Cleaning and Maintenance Routine, Phil winked at her before answering Renee, "Inside joke."
As she sat down at the small patio table, Bella rolled her eyes at him and said, "Careful Phil, laughing for no reason, people might think you're on something or question your sanity."
Renee looked back and forth between them as Phil took his seat next to her at the table like she was questioning both their sanity. "I worry about you two sometimes."
Putting a slice of tomato on her garden burger, Bella said, "The burgers look great, Phil."
"Yes, they do, if I say so myself. On the other hand, that pathetic little thing on your plate… How do you eat that?"
Bella stuck her tongue out at him and took a big bite of her garden burger.
"Children, no fighting at the dinner table."
They both looked at Renee, who was smiling indulgently and shaking her head at them. She was glad they got along so well; she knew some families where that wasn't the case. The kids resented it when their parent remarried, or someone married someone with children, but then didn't want the children from the first marriage around. As much as she loved Phil, if he and Bella didn't have a good relationship, she wouldn't have said yes.
"Sorry, Mom."
"Sorry, Renee."
"But, he started it."
After dinner, Bella excused herself to go call her dad and returned to her room. She was now sitting cross legged on her bed looking at the desk. Should she look? It had only been a little over an hour, and she knew if there was nothing there she'd be disappointed. "Oh, for God's sake." She got up and went over to her desk. Drawer out. Buttons pressed. Compartment opened. "Yes!" Bella put her hand over her mouth and stood quietly looking at the door; the last thing she wanted was to have her mom come and check on her.
Nothing. All quiet. Good.
Relaxing, she squealed quietly in excitement and read Edward's newest letter several times. "This is really happening. It's insane, but it's really happening." This was three letters, including the first to his cousin, and with them all spread out in front of her, Bella noticed the dates on them for the first time. She had noticed the year but not the date. "One from June 24th and two from the 25th. I wrote one yesterday, and then one again today. His were yesterday and today, too, and this last one had to have been written within the last hour." Talking to her self and raising the letter to her face, Bella inhaled deeply and could still smell the ink; it was an indefinable scent, but she liked it. "Are you still at your desk, our desk, right now, Edward?" She jumped up and got a pen and paper to answer him.
Dear Edward,
My name is Isabella Marie Swan. I am 16, and I live in Phoenix with my mother, Renee Swan. Please call me Bella, I think we can do without the formality, don't you? I hope you don't mind me calling you Edward.
I don't know what is happening any more than you do. I'm wondering if I've lost my mind, too, but I've decided that sanity is highly overrated. All I know is the same as what you said. I found your letter in a hidden compartment in a desk I was given as a gift by a man named Michael Masen. Your desk. I felt badly for your mother, how worried she must have been about you going to war, and I wished there was some way I could let her know there was nothing to worry about. So, yesterday I wrote the letter and put it in the hidden compartment. I felt really silly, and when I went to get it earlier today, it was gone, and yours was there. Nearly scared me to death, by the way.
I think whoever it was who told you that some things are not meant to be understood, just accepted and appreciated, was right.
Please, write back to me and tell me if you ever learned "Miss New Attorney's Daughter"'s name.
Your Friend,
Bella
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..ooOoo.. ..ooOoo.. ..ooOoo..
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"Edward, are you awake, dearest?"
Edward was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling deep in not thinking about letters from imaginary girls when his mother came to check on him. "Yes, Mother, please come in."
Elizabeth entered her son's room and sat on the edge of his bed. "How are you feeling?"
"It is only a headache. I'm sure it will pass soon."
"I have brought you some aspirins."
Taking the tablets from his mother, Edward swallowed them dutifully with a glass of water, and after feeling his forehead once again for any sign of a fever, Elizabeth Masen pressed a kiss to her son's unruly hair before leaving him to rest a short while before dinner. Sitting up on his bed and looking at his desk for a moment after his mother left, Edward shook his head in bemusement. "Who are you, Bella Swan?"
Dinner that night was later than usual as Edward, Sr. was late at the office, and it had been held late on his account in order for the family to dine together. Edward took his seat at the dinner table and greeted his father.
"Edward, your mother tells me you are unwell this evening."
"It is nothing, Father, only a headache. I went to lie down for a short while and have just taken aspirins. I am sure it will pass."
Nellie smiled happily as she brought in dinner, a roast with buttered beets which she and Maggie had grown themselves in their Victory Garden. Both women considered their garden to be their patriotic duty and, since America had entered the war, grew many of the vegetables for the family.
Edward's mouth watered at the sight of the roast, the smell of which immediately succeeded in temporarily driving the issue of his newly developed insanity from his mind. He considered himself as patriotic as anyone, but he readily admitted that the thought of the coming Tuesday was all that had gotten him through every other Monday for the past year. Along with his parents, Edward willingly adhered to the government's Meatless Monday campaign, and while macaroni with tomato sauce wasn't bad, he would never learn to like baked fish. At least Wheatless Wednesday was no particular hardship for him, having found he quite liked rye bread.
Nellie's brother, Patrick, a Private in the First Infantry Division, had shipped out last summer, and like all the family members of men fighting over there, both women were very worried for his safety. They wrote often, and today there had been a letter from him.
"More vegetables from your garden, Nellie?"
Their young cook beamed with pride and smiled widely. "Yes, Ma'am, and we have some lovely strawberries already. There's a shortcake for dessert."
After Nellie returned to the kitchen, Mr. Masen remarked to his wife that she seemed very happy this evening.
"Yes, dear. They have had a letter from her brother, Patrick. She has another brother, a younger brother, Thomas, apprenticed at a furniture maker. He brought the letter by earlier for her to see."
"Good, good, very good. What news? He is well, I hope?"
"Yes, the letter was written twelve days ago. He was somewhere in France, but he could not say where."
Edward sat and ate quietly as he listened to his parents, unable to fully concentrate on what was being said, and was glad for the distraction when his father spoke to him. "How were the men today, Edward?"
"They were not well, I am afraid. The thunder, it was not easy for them. Oh, Mother, before I forget, Dr. Cullen thanked you again for his lunch."
Elizabeth was wiping her mouth with her napkin as she answered him. "Oh, that is good, I am glad. He ate all of it, I do hope. I heard he joined you for lunch in the lounge."
"Yes. I asked if there was a telephone I could use to call Violet, and he told me I could use the one in his office. He had just finished when I returned, and we sat and talked while I ate. He enjoys motion pictures and said he goes as often as he is able. He said he had already been to see The Million Dollar Mystery."
His mother looked at him with a peculiar expression on her face, and it was several moments before she spoke again, "You did not see him eat?"
"No. I was surprised to see he had already finished. I was afraid I had taken longer than I realized. He must eat very quickly."
Edward, Sr. noticed the odd expression on his wife's face and asked if she was feeling well herself.
Elizabeth appeared to come back to herself and smiled, noticing the concerned looks on her husband's and son's faces. "I am fine, dear. My mind just… wandered… for a moment."
His father seemed appeased, but Edward still thought she looked like her mind was somewhere else.
"Mrs. Carrington telephoned the office to tell her husband she and Violet were going to the Red Cross, and that Violet was joining you and your friends afterward, Edward. He was very grateful to you for inviting her."
"I am glad she was able to join us. She seems thick as thieves with Lillian and Irene already, and I believe Joe is quite smitten with her." Edward discreetly lowered his eyes and tried to fight a smile as he said the last part.
The dinner things were cleared away, and the cake was brought in.
"It looks wonderful, Nellie. You have outdone yourself."
"Thank you, ma'am. I do hope you will enjoy it."
"Nellie, Mrs. Masen tells me you have had a letter from your brother. I am glad to hear he is well."
"Thank you, sir. He seems as well as one can hope."
Edward's thoughts had returned to the mysterious Bella Swan, and he wasn't listening to what his parents were saying. He realized his father was asking him what else he and his friends had planned, and he was still distracted as he answered, "Some of us are planning a ballgame for Saturday morning. Irene and Lillian were already coming to cheer us on. Violet will join us as well, with her parents' permission."
Elizabeth reminded her son they were expected at the Carrington's for dinner Saturday night.
"I haven't forgotten. I am looking forward to it."
Edward's mind drifted to Peter Lord at the hospital and the letter he had received from his friend, Albert. He and his parents knew so many men already over there fighting or about to ship out, and their family and friends knew more still. Not wanting to worry him further, he hadn't told his father all of what Albert wrote to him. Although he had only been there for such a short while, Albert had told him of wrecked, abandoned villages and destroyed homes, villages where not a single young man remained, only old men, women, and children left to carry on, of homeless and hungry orphaned children, of the ruin and destruction that in such a short time he had already seen. He wrote of suddenly, fully realizing why they were there and of drilling for hours in the heat, rain, and mud with a sense of purpose and a desire for vengeance. Edward thought of Peter Lord's experiences and those of the other soldiers whose cases he had read about in Dr. Rivers' paper and couldn't keep the words of Bella's first letter out of his head.
...It will be over soon… An armistice will be signed on November 11th… The 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month… The fighting will stop…
"Could it be possible?"
"I'm sorry, Edward. Could what be possible?"
Edward looked up at his parents and panicked; he hadn't realized he had spoken out loud. What else had he said, he worried? "I'm sorry, Mother, Father. My headache has worsened. I think I will say good night, if I may."
Worriedly, his mother rose from the table and came over to him. "Look at you. You're trembling. Dearest, why did you not say something sooner?"
Edward looked down at his hands; they were in fact shaking.
A little relieved after feeling his forehead, his mother said, "Still no sign of fever, but your eyes look glassy, and you are as white as a sheet. Does it hurt anywhere else? Your throat?"
Edward stood up and held onto the back of his chair to try to stop the shaking in his hands. "No. It is only in my head."
Only in my head…. Oh, dear Lord….
"By all means, dearest, go. I will bring you up a nice cup of hot tea with lemon and honey."
In spite of feeling like his legs were about to give way, Edward had to smile at that. Hot tea with lemon and honey was his mother's remedy for every illness known to man. Sometimes, if she deemed you ill enough, she added a shot of whiskey. "Thank you, Mother. Good night, Father."
When he saw how his father was watching him, sitting motionless with his napkin half raised to his face, Edward realized how truly awful he must look; he knew how afraid of a sudden illness his father was. It had only been two years since his cousin, Mic, had lost the use of his legs to polio. After feeling poorly for a few days, Mic had gone to bed early one night believing himself to have simply caught a bad cold and awoke the next morning unable to move his legs.
He could hear his mother reassuring his father as he left the room. With her nursing background, she knew that a sudden illness was seldom cause for any real concern, simply a cold, or at worst influenza, which would be recovered from in a week's time leaving you fatigued but no worse for wear.
Edward undressed quickly and prepared for bed. He desperately wanted to look in his desk but didn't dare until after his mother brought him his tea and made sure he drank it. It was only a few moments later that he heard his mother's footsteps in the hall.
"Here you are, dearest, nice and hot and strong. Drink it while it is still hot."
As Edward took the cup from his mother, he was surprised at how good the hot cup felt in his hands. It had been so hot and sticky today; he hadn't realized he was cold until he felt the heat from the tea, and he briefly wondered if he was actually getting sick. Even just the smell of it was helping to calm him; it was so normal, so familiar.
"I will make your apologies at the hospital tomorrow."
Edward hadn't even thought about tomorrow. He needed to go the hospital; the men needed him. They needed the normality of a friend to talk to, and he could not let them down. "No, Mother, I am sure that will not be necessary. I am sure I will be fine by tomorrow."
Elizabeth looked at him carefully. "Your eyes do appear clearer, focused, and your color is a bit better. We will see in the morning. Now, drink up."
Once his mother left him for the night, and after waiting for a moment to make sure she would not hear him or return unexpectedly, Edward ran to his desk and sank into his chair in relief at finding a new letter already there. "You certainly don't waste any time, do you, Miss Swan?"
...My name is Isabella Marie Swan. I am 16, and I live in Phoenix with my mother, Renee Swan...
Phoenix? Where is that?
He couldn't remember ever hearing of a place called Phoenix.
...Please call me Bella, I think we can do without the formality, don't you? I hope you don't mind me calling you Edward...
He supposed formality was a bit silly under the circumstances. If somehow writing to each other as if by magic wasn't grounds for familiarity, what was?
...I don't know what's happening any more than you do. I'm wondering if I've lost my mind, too, but I've decided that sanity is highly overrated...
Well, at least I will have company at the asylum.
...All I know is the same as what you said. I found your letter in a hidden compartment in a desk I was given as a gift by a man named Michael Masen. Your desk...
My desk? Edward became angry. Apparently, this poor girl had lost her father, and some con artist was not only taking advantage of her and her mother but was impersonating his invalid cousin to do so. He would have to learn where Phoenix was, find her, and put a stop to it immediately.
Whoever it is, he must be setting them up, gaining their trust.
...I felt badly for your mother, how worried she must've been about you going to war, and I wished there was some way I could let her know there was nothing to worry about. So, yesterday I wrote the letter and put it in the hidden compartment. I felt rather silly, and when I went to get it earlier today, it was gone, and yours was there. Nearly scared me to death, by the way...
Gave me quite the scare, too.
...I think whoever it was who told you that some things aren't meant to be understood, just accepted and appreciated was right...
It does not appear that I have a choice.
...Please, write back to me and tell me if you ever learned "Miss New Attorney's Daughter"'s name.
Will you never let that one go?
Your Friend,
Bella
My friend, Bella.
Edward decided he quite liked that and smiled as he read Bella's letter through several times. The paper was like nothing he had ever seen before; it was all torn up along one side, as if some type of machinery had mangled and chewed it up, and there was something about the way she wrote that seemed... odd somehow, but he could not put his finger on it. Even her handwriting and the pen and ink she used seemed unusual. As he read the letter through once again, Edward suddenly realized what felt so odd about it and his mouth went dry. She wrote in the wrong tense. She wrote that she felt bad about how worried his mother "must have been", and she wished there was someway she could let her know there "was" nothing to worry about.
"Was" nothing to worry about… not "is" nothing to worry about.
As ridiculous as it seemed, it sounded to him as if she was writing about things that had already happened.
But that is absurd, impossible...
Edward set the letter down and scrubbed his hands over his face.
This whole thing is impossible, but it is happening. Is it really that much more impossible? Is H.G. Wells worse than Oz? Could she really have met Mic? Or be going to meet Mic? She clearly believes she did, and that she has my desk. This desk. Or will. But what Earthly reason could Mic have for giving Grandfather's desk away? And why would he have it to give away?
He picked the letter back up but immediately set it back down and sighed.
Not dated. Of course not.
Edward pinched the bridge of his nose.
She knew how old I am but still asked if I was born in 1901. Good God, she wasn't questioning my age or when I was born, she was questioning if it was really 1918.
Again, Edward picked the letter up, only to set it down a moment later, and ran his hands through his hair, causing it to stick up in all directions.
Could she really know when the war will end, because for her, it already has?
If there was one thing that Edward could not stand, it was not knowing something. He felt he had reached the point where he could accept that something impossible was happening; indeed, he had no choice but to accept it as the proof was in front of him at that very minute, but he at least had to know what that impossible thing was. For several minutes he sat trying to think of how to ask… what he wanted to ask.
How can I ask her, if I can't even think the words to myself?
He sat with his face in his hands for a few minutes longer before picking up his pen.
June 25, 1918
My Dear Bella,
I was very pleased to receive your latest letter, because there is something I must ask you. Please forgive me, but I need to know. You wrote that the war will end in November, is that the truth? My family and I know several men fighting over there, and I must know. I understand I will not be able to tell anyone, they would think me insane or cruel, but please, I must know.
I truly cannot believe what I am about to write, but it sounds as if you are writing as if, for you, it has already happened, even though, for me, it has not.
I do not believe I have ever heard of a place called Phoenix. It is an unusual name, mythical. Where is it?
You will be very pleased to know that "Miss New Attorney's Daughter"'s name is Violet Carrington. She is a very sweet girl, not the least bit silly or foolish, merely very shy. She joined a small group of my friends and me at the theater this afternoon, and we have plans for this weekend as well. I hope you will forgive my rudeness toward her.
Please write again as soon as you are able. I remain,
Your Friend,
Edward
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..ooOoo.. ..ooOoo.. ..ooOoo..
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After putting her letter in the drawer, Bella paced excitedly back and forth across her room trying to calm herself down. She still needed to call her father, but she could not talk to him in the state she was in, and she forced herself to walk slower and counted to ten at least thirty times before she was ready.
Sitting cross legged on her bed, she waited for her father to pick up. It was unlike him not to pick up by the third ring, and she checked her phone to make sure she had dialed the right number. After three more rings, his answering machine picked up, and she was just about to leave a message that she would call back in a few minutes when he answered, sounding completely out of breath.
"Dad? What did you do, run all the way from the rez?"
"What? The rez, oh, um, no. Actually, I haven't been to the rez for while."
Bella was surprised to hear anger in her father's voice and even more so at the sadness behind it.
"What? Why? You're at the rez as much as you're at home. What happened?"
Her father was quiet for a long moment before answering, and when he did the anger was gone; he just sounded hurt.
"Me and Billy had a fight."
Her big, strong, Chief of Police father sounded like a little boy whose best friend had just said he didn't want to play with him anymore. Bella was shocked. She didn't know what she expected, but it certainly wasn't that. Billy and her dad had been friends forever, and she had never known them to have a fight. "That's terrible, Dad. What happened?"
She could hear him let out a breath, and when he first answered her, it was like the words were being ripped from him against his will... but then the dam broke. "I don't know. I don't understand him, Bells. I've never known him to not like someone before–I mean, at least, you know, not without good reason–but he just won't listen. It's like, I don't know, and it's not just him. It's the entire tribe. They've been like that since they moved here, but it's getting worse, and now, with Tanya, he's just, he went too far, and he just won't listen. You'd think they'd killed someone. The whole town talks about them, but on the rez, you wouldn't believe what he said, and he's never even met her, he's never met any of them, none of them have, and the elders have actually told people to stop going to the hospital. Can you believe that?"
Bella had no idea what her father was asking her if she could believe, because she'd lost him right after, "I've never known him to not like someone before." Her father was not normally one who spoke about his feelings, at all, and she could tell that speech had been brewing for quite some time. Even if she hadn't been able to understand most of it. "They've been like what since who moved to town, and whose Tanya?"
"The Cullens. Dr. Cullen and his family, his wife and kids. Well, they're not all their kids, two are cousins of Esme's, Mrs. Cullen's that is. They moved here about a year ago from Alaska. Tanya is a cousin of theirs. She's visiting." Her father hesitated for a moment before continuing somewhat defensively, "I know it's... a little... unusual, but it's not illegal. They're not actually related, well, some of them are, by adoption. If it was them, then yeah, that could be a problem, but it's not."
Bella's head was starting to spin. Her father sounded so unlike himself, she was beginning to hear the theme to the Twilight Zone in her head. "What's a little unusual?"
It was a moment before her father answered, "Dr. Cullen and his wife have three adopted teenagers, and Mrs. Cullen's two teenage cousins live with them, too. They're second cousins." There was another pause before he continued, and when he did, he sounded like Police Chief Swan testifying in court. "Mrs. Cullen's cousins are dating two of the Cullens adopted children."
Bella didn't know what to say. She could only imagine the scandal that would cause in a small town like Forks. Who was she kidding? It would cause talk in Phoenix too. "Wow, that's… that's definitely… unusual."
"I know it seems a little weird, and it's got some people all worked up. But they're only second cousins and only on paper; there's no blood relation, and they weren't even raised as cousins. People around here should worry about what their own kids are getting up to and keep their noses out of other people's business. The way the people in this town look down their noses at them, just because they're new to town. The Cullens are good people. The doctor, he's a real world class surgeon, Bells. He could go to any hospital anywhere and make a hell of a lot more than he could ever make here. We're lucky his wife wanted to live in a small town."
Bella was stunned. She couldn't remember her father ever making that long of a speech before. "Is that why the Quileutes don't like them? Sounds a bit stupid. Seems a bit extreme to stop going to the hospital. If he's that good of a doctor, what do they care about his family's private lives? Is that what you and Billy fought about?"
Her father, who had a moment ago spoken so forcefully, now seemed to have trouble answering her. "Um, no. No, it wasn't. He, um, he… said some things… and I said some things… and… um… yeah."
"Dad, it's okay if you don't want to talk about it. I don't mean to pry."
"No, no. It's not that. He just, he said some things… about... about Tanya… and I said some things… and… yeah."
Tanya? The cousin? Why would Billy saying something about her make him lose it? Wait... Her. Tanya. Ooooh.
As much as she hated that her dad and his oldest friend were fighting, Bella hoped it was what she thought it might be, and she tried to keep the smile on her face out of her voice. "Dad, who's Tanya?"
"She's, she's Esme Cullen's cousin. I thought, I thought I said that already."
Oh, yes.
It was looking like it was what she thought it looked like it was. "Yes, you did, but if this has been going on since they moved there, a year ago, why did you lose it now, when Billy said something about her? What happened?" Bella was so excited that she was actually bouncing in place.
Answer me that one, Father dear.
Her father's answer was so jumbled she couldn't understand a word of it. "Sorry, didn't catch that."
He let out a breath, and he answered her slowly. "I said, she asked me out."
Bella squealed and did a happy dance sitting down on her bed at her father's confirmation. It was even better than she'd hoped-she'd asked him out.
Her father misunderstood her silence. "Unbelievable, I know."
"NO! It's not unbelievable at all, Dad. Why would you say that?"
"Bells, you haven't seen her. She's, she's unbelievable. They're all unbelievable, but, she's just… unbelievable."
"Pretty, huh?"
"Pretty? Bells, she's… she's…."
"Unbelievable?"
"You're a real comedian, Bells."
"Sorry, she's beautiful, I take it?"
"Beautiful doesn't come close."
"This is so great, Dad. What did you do, where did you take her?"
"We went to Seattle for the day."
"A whole day, that's some first date. It went well I take it?"
"Um, yeah, it, um, it went... well."
Bella dropped her phone. Just how well did this date go?
"You're going to make me beg for details, aren't you? What did you do on your all day long date in Seattle that went well?"
"Just, you know, touristy stuff. Went up in the Space Needle, I'd never actually done that before. It's weird. You can't see the building beneath you. It was cloudy, but visibility was still pretty good. Little windy though, and the building sways in the wind. I was pretty glad to get back down. Walked along Alki Beach, ate there. Went to the lighthouse."
"That sounds really nice, Dad. Are you going to see her again?"
"Um, yeah. Actually, Bells, she's coming over soon. We're going to watch a movie. I was just straightening up the house when you called."
"Gotcha. You gotta go. I'll talk to you later."
"Good night, Bells."
"Night, Dad."
Bella sat at her desk, grinning like a loon for several minutes after hanging up the phone. She knew she should study a bit, but she knew she'd never be able to concentrate. She was so happy for her dad. As far as she knew, he hadn't dated anyone since her mom. It was too bad she lived in Alaska, though.
Thinking about Billy Black's reaction was the only thing that dimmed Bella's good mood. Why would he want to ruin this for her dad? He'd had a long, happy marriage himself, and her dad was there for him and his kids when his wife passed away and then again when he ended up in a wheelchair due to his diabetes. She didn't really know him, she more knew of him, but she didn't think he was so judgmental. Her dad was a good judge of character; if he said these Cullens were good people, then they were good people. If Billy knew something about them, then, of course, that would be different. But how could he, and why wouldn't he have come out and said so when they first moved to town?
Thinking about her dad, Bella smiled again. He was never comfortable expressing his feelings, but to hear him stumbling over his words trying to describe this Tanya and rambling on and on, he had it bad.
God, please, don't let him get hurt again.
Eventually, she did pull her books out and study for a while and was sitting at her desk looking over the rough draft of her book report on A Midsummer Night's Dream when her mother came to tell her good night. Tired, Bella decided her rough draft was good enough, piled all of her books on the corner of her desk, and got ready for bed. Before going to bed, Bella decided to check the drawer, not really expecting anything since it hadn't been very long since she put her letter there, and was both surprised and thrilled to find a new letter waiting for her. Climbing into bed, Bella curled up to read Edward's latest letter.
...Please forgive me, but I need to know. You wrote that the war will end in November, is that the truth? My family and I know several men fighting over there, and I must know. I understand I will not be able to tell anyone, they would think me insane or cruel, but please, I must know...
Oh, Edward, there's nothing to forgive. I know how hard that must be to believe. It must seem like too much to hope for.
…I cannot believe what I am about to write, but it sounds as if you are writing as if, for you, it has already happened, even though , for me, it has not...
Bella laughed. Got it in one. She could almost picture him trying to think of how to ask that. How do you ask someone if they're from the future?
...I do not believe I have ever heard of a place called Phoenix. It is an unusual name, where is it?...
How can you possibly have never heard of Phoenix? Oh, right. 1918. I wonder what the population of Phoenix was in 1918. Still though, it's a state capital. Be honest though, how many state capitals do you remember?
...You will be very pleased to know that "Miss New Attorney's Daughter"'s name is Violet Carrington. She is a very sweet girl, not the least bit silly or foolish, merely very shy. She joined a small group of my friends and me at the theater this afternoon, and we have plans for this weekend as well. I hope you will forgive my rudeness toward her...
You're forgiven. Hmmmm. I wonder just how very sweet you think she is? He went to the theater. Did he mean a play or a movie? I wonder if I should tell him "Guess what, movies talk now." after all. "Oh, and by the way, not only do they talk, but they are in color and some are in 3-D."
...Please write again as soon as you are able. I remain,
Your Friend,
Edward
My friend, Edward. I think I like the sound of that.
Good mood now fully restored, Bella tried to think of what she could say to assure him that the end of the war was coming soon. There was something she remembered, but she didn't know exactly when it happened; it may have happened already. She'd have to look it up to check. She was pretty sure her mother had already gone to bed, but if not, she'd just assume she was looking up something for school.
The computer was in the living room. This was one of the few things her mother ever went all "I am your mother, and I said so," about. She insisted on keeping the computer in a "public room of the house" because she saw a news report on T.V. about a teenage girl who had been sexually assaulted and murdered by someone she'd met Online. The girl was only thirteen, and she believed the person she was talking to was a fourteen year old boy. He wasn't. He was a 48 year old Megan's Law pedophile. The expert being interviewed for the show said computers should be kept "in a public room of the house", and her mother took it to heart.
Their computer, bought second hand from the school district when they upgraded, was about five years old and really slow. Finally, she got Online and found what she was looking for.
Bingo. July. Perfect.
While reading, she found a link, July 17, 1918, clicked on it, and was taken to a page that listed all the historical events from 1918 by date. She looked at June and July.
Wow. The trial his father is working on is actually listed. How cool is that?
She searched for any information she could find about the trial, but all she could find was information about the arrest, nothing about the trial or the outcome.
No good. He already knows about that.
She went back to the 1918 page and found something else.
Oh. I didn't know that. "...torpedoed on 17 July 1918 off the east coast of Ireland... ...German submarine U-55... ...killing five crewmen..." Oh, that's good. Well, no, it's obviously not good, but it will work.
She also looked up the historical population of Phoenix.
Oh. In 1920 the population was only about 29,000. No wonder he's never heard of it. I'm sure he studied the state capitals, but, really, who remembers them?
After printing the pages she needed, Bella went back to her room to write.
Dear Edward,
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After Charlie tells Bella about the Cullens, Bella's reaction is almost exactly as it was in the book when she's told about their dating each other, as is Charlie's description of Carlisle being able to work somewhere else for more money.
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Historical notes -
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The Masens' maid and cook have planted a Victory Garden. Victory Gardens were very common and very strongly encouraged by the government to supplement the nation's food supply, and by the end of the war, there were over five million victory gardens.
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I also mentioned Meatless Mondays and Wheatless Wednesdays. In 1917 President Woodrow Wilson appointed Herbert Hoover to head the U. S. Food Administration. Under Hoover, through campaigns like MM and WW, the U.S. population avoided mandatory rationing and voluntarily reduced the nation's food intake by 15% and in a one year period between 1918 – 1919 provided 18,500,000 tons of food for the allies. In November 1917, New York City hotels saved 116 tons of meat over the course of just one week.
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In the summer of 1916 New York City suffered a polio outbreak with over 2000 deaths. "The names and addresses of individuals with confirmed polio cases were published daily in the press, their houses were identified with placards, and their families were quarantined." - Wikipedia
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Spiral notebooks first appeared in 1934 and were featured in Popular Science that September in an article on new inventions, so Edward would never have seen anything like a piece of paper ripped out of a spiral notebook.
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The movie Edward and Carlisle discussed in both the last chapter and this one, The Million Dollar Mystery, was released in 1914 as a serial of 23 chapters which would be played before the main feature film. The movie follows a secret society called "The Black Hundred" as they go in search of a lost one million dollars. It was later released as a feature in June of 1918, which puts it in with our story. In 1914, the serial was released with the gimmick that the last chapter was unwritten, and a contest was held for the public to send in the final chapter with a prize of $10,000. It was advertised as "$10,000 for 100 words." There were thousands of entries, and a secretary from St. Louis won the prize. (I happen to be a secretary, so you rock sister :-]) The main star, Florence LaBadie, played a character named Florence Hargreaves, who was actually reported missing as a publicity stunt. Plot details were fed to newspapers and the police as if they were real, and it took a week before they were found out. Florence LaBadie was hugely popular at the time. She died from injuries from a car accident in 1917. She was 29 when she died. No copies of the film are known to exist today.
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Thank you for reading!
