New Year, New Me
No copyright infringement intended. Twilight is the property of Stephenie Meyer. I'm just playing with her characters for some fun.
Updating a day early as I will be traveling tomorrow night :)
o0o
Chapter 4
I turn the key in the door of my apartment. Traffic was awful despite leaving work late, and it's nearly for eight o'clock. I am glad to be home. I am disproportionately proud of my little one bed apartment on Greenwood Avenue North. I think it's because it's the first place I haven't shared, and the first place I've furnished. I have a little balcony that I love in the summer. I have a small table and chairs out there and some potted plants. Just add a book and some sunshine, and I'm in my element.
The phone starts ringing just as I unlock the door. "Hi Mom," I greet, as I rest the phone on my shoulder and take off my gloves. I tell her a little about my day and a project I'm working on.
"So have you heard from Mike?" she asks.
"Yes, we've been texting. He's invited me out to his place for the evening on Friday."
"Bella! That's exciting. He must be serious."
"We're just casual."
"Your dad and I were just casual, at first."
Sue's daughter and I were in the same class in school. That's how Sue and my dad met. Leah and I would have play dates; Sue and Charlie would chat. Two single parents wanting a connection, I think. They had my little brother Seth not long after they got married. I say little brother; he's twice my size now.
I am putting some dinner on. I am having macaroni and cheese tonight. I want something warming and calorie-laden.
"Stop it!" I say. "It's nice though, he's making me laugh."
Sue chuckles. "Well that's the important thing, sweetie. Any more emoji incidents?" she asks. She barely knows what an emoji is, but she found the poop story quite amusing.
"No, he's steering clear of emojis. He's in New York with work this week. Any news?" I ask.
"Not really. Your dad is complaining about his back, but won't go to the doctors."
"Typical," I retort.
"That's exactly what I said. Seth is starting to panic a bit, though he's trying to hide it. Final year and all that…" Seth is in his final year studying architecture at the University of Washington. He's a relaxed, amicable sort, but this degree means a lot to him.
"Leah is having some troubles with Sam," she continues. "I don't think she's happy."
"I thought that, too." We all spent Christmas together in Forks, and Leah, though she's always got an edge to her, seemed more prickly than usual, and she was closed with me when I asked about Sam. "I don't know what's going on there though, do you?"
"No, she won't talk to me." She sighs.
"Don't worry. She'll talk when she's ready. Mom, I better go, my multi-tasking is failing a bit."
"Bye honey. Speak soon."
"Bye, love you." We end the call.
I've been washing up and not paying enough attention to my pasta that has boiled over, damn it. I put some music on and clear up. I enjoy the meal; it feels hearty and hits the spot. I check my cell and have a message from Alice. We text awhile and plan for her to come round for dinner on the weekend. There is also a notification on Match.
You have a message from Tyler: Hi Ella, how are you? I like traveling too, where is your favorite place? Tyler
There is another message timed one minute later: Bella! I meant Bella. Damn autocorrect. Sorry not a good start.
He is attractive. He has short brown hair with a slight wave in it; it looks stylish. He is tanned and has serious-looking eyes. His profile tells me he's 33, lives in Seattle, works in IT, and plays in a band. I like the look of Tyler. But what's the etiquette here? I am headed for a third date with Mike. I debate internally and then decide there is no harm in conversation.
I reply and tell Tyler about Barcelona. I tell him about the beautiful light in the Sagrada Familia and the fountains outside the museum. Coincidently, he's been to Spain too. He tells me about his trip to Seville, and how he went to the Water Gardens where Game of Thrones filmed their scenes at Dorne.
It's late before I realize it, and I head to bed. I check my work calendar for tomorrow's schedule and set my alarm. I am re-reading Drums of Autumn by Diana Gabaldon and manage a chapter before my eyes start to droop.
Thursday yields nothing exciting, but I am looking forward to Friday with Mike. It's the third date and I'm going to his place. I have my new underwear and an outfit laid out ready for tomorrow when my cell beeps.
I have message from Mike: Hi Bella, hope you're okay. I've got caught up here in NY, and I'm sorry but I'm not going to be able to make it tomorrow. I might be here for a few weeks while we broker this deal. My boss wants me to stay. I'm sorry. Look, have fun on Match. I can get in touch when I'm back, if you want me to? M x
My new underwear and I feel a little foolish now. My bikini line feels abused, without purpose. I sigh. Never mind, I am a big girl and it's not necessarily a brush off. He seemed really interested last time we met.
I type out a reply: No worries, life happens. I hope all goes well with work. Don't be a stranger x
My sedate mood follows me into Friday, but at least there is that Friday feeling as consolation. I feel a little more relaxed at work on a Friday, than the rest of the week. Especially today, as I have no meetings and can get on with some admin that is sorely overdue some attention.
My sense of calm is short-lived however. Charlotte, one of my team, comes over to see me.
"Hi Bella, can we talk?" she asks.
"Of course," I say. I find us an empty meeting room.
"What can I do for you?"
"I just wanted to tell you something. I know it's not your problem, but I'm in a bit of bother and I'm not sure if I'll be able to come to work next week." She fidgets with her short blonde hair, obsessively tucking it behind her right ear.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm going to the police station after work today. I've been having some problems with Peter."
I've met Peter a few times. He is Charlotte's fiancé. He used to come with her for after-work drinks sometimes. But it's been a long time since Charlotte came anywhere with us. She didn't even come to the Christmas party.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
"Not really, but I'm gonna be. I'm fixing to leave him."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"He's controlling and, um, violent. I need to get away from him."
This isn't what I was expecting. I feel my eyebrows rise without my permission. I try to keep my face neutral.
"I thought I could deal with it, calm him." She is fidgeting with her hem now, tugging at a loose thread on her skirt. "But it's getting worse. He– he threatened me with a knife last night."
"Oh, God. How awful." I feel the inanity of my words.
"He held it up right in my face. He said it was because I ignored him when he called me, but he didn't call me. I know he didn't. You know how I was off the other week, and I said I had the flu?"
"Yeah."
"I didn't. He wouldn't let me leave the house. I only got him to agree to me calling in sick because he knows we need my money coming in. He thinks I'm having an affair with someone here. Says he smells sex on me when I go home."
"Do you have family that can help? I don't remember you mentioning anyone."
"No, my mama and I aren't on speaking terms. Peter, he wasn't always like this. Back when we was younger, he saved me. He brought me here to Seattle, a million miles away from our hometown in Tennessee. It's always been just us since then."
"You feel you owe him?"
"I do, no doubt about it. My mama, she was a cruel woman. Always Bible this and Jesus that, and I was never good enough, always getting punished for one thing or another." Her Southern accent is more pronounced as she talks of home.
"I seen him at school with shiners. I knew he was trouble. He was a bigshot football player. He was leaving Tennessee to get him a big career. He said I could go with him, get a job, get away from my mama. It was me and him against the world. It seems so stupid now. I don't know how I let things get so bad. It just sorta creeps up on you. Things don't seem that far from normal, just like one thing is out of step. But before you know it there have been so many little steps that it becomes normal."
"Don't blame yourself."
"I blame him," she says with conviction. "That's what I'm coming to see. I kept making excuses for him, kept thinking that things would get better. I kept staying because he saved me once and perhaps I could save him back. He took to drink when he injured his knee and the career went up in smoke. I need to save myself this time."
"You're very brave."
"I don't feel brave. I feel scared."
"That's natural; this is a big step."
"It's funny what makes you revaluate your life sometimes. I want to thank you, Bella."
"What for?"
"Well, all this talk about your dating. When we was chatting with Jessica last week, and you was saying what you want from a relationship, it got me to thinking. I don't have a relationship or a boyfriend really; I have a keeper. The knife was the last straw. He never used weapons before."
I reach for her hand and steady it's shaking. "I'm sorry this is happening to you."
"I wanted to tell you. I don't want to let you down, but I don't know what will happen from here. I can't go back to the apartment, and I don't know what the police will be able to help with. There are shelters where women can go, I know. But I've been too afraid to look it up at home, he checks up on me."
"Shall we go take a look on my computer?" The office is mostly open plan, but my back is to the wall at my desk, so I have some privacy.
"Can we?"
Back at my desk, we do some discreet Googling. I write down some contact details for a support group and a local shelter.
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"No, you have your work to be getting on with. I don't want to take up more of your time."
"It's no problem at all."
"Thank you, but it's something I need to face by myself."
"Do you want me to take you to get some of your belongings while he's still at work?"
"Oh, bless you. I packed a bag this morning. Peter left before me this morning, so I packed some things."
I give her the rest of the day off and order an Uber for her to the nearest police station. It's not that far, but I don't want her walking alone. I go outside with her to wait. She's told me how Peter tells her he checks up on her at work; driving past the office while doing deliveries and calling reception. Her suspense is palpable as we wait.
"Text me to let me know you're safe," I say, giving her a hug before she gets in the car.
I stay outside to collect my thoughts and breathe in some fresh air. The air is icy in my lungs, but I enjoy the distraction. It's not entirely out of the blue that Peter is an asshole. There was always something about him that I didn't like, but this is something else.
On my way back in I let Lauren, the receptionist, know that if anyone calls for Charlotte not to give any information out. Not even whether she is here or not, and to forward the call onto my desk number. I don't tell her the full story, just that things are strained at home and that her fiancé, Peter, is not to be allowed inside the building. She's good at her job. She'll be discreet and hopefully it will help.
For the rest of the day, I just can't shake the thought of how little Charlotte is compared to Peter. He towers over in height and is easily twice her weight. The image of him threatening her with a knife is clear in my mind. Charlotte is only in her early twenties, so young to be dealing with such a heavy burden. Though I instinctively didn't like him, I never would have suspected this. I guess you never really know what's happening behind closed doors.
Tyler is my saving grace. He has sent me a message on the off chance that I am free for drinks after work. I think it might be the perfect distraction. He suggests a bar on the waterfront, and I meet him there.
The bar has seating outside and good heaters. The view is worth braving the elements, so we sit out there. Tyler brings me a glass of wine, and I feel relaxed, sitting there with him, letting go of the tension of the day. He is as handsome in person as his photo, and he's easy to talk to. We talk about our travels. He is a bit braver than me, going with the flow, and not planning too much in advance. I get the next round in and move to a soft drink as I have the car. Living out at Greenwood can be a pain sometimes.
The Friday night party-goers are starting to walk past, all dressed up and ready for a night out in the city, but it feels calm in our bubble. Just as I'm thinking this, something splatters on my chest, ricocheting onto my arm. OMG, it's bird poop!
"Oh, God!" I say. "This feels rather symbolic of the day I've had today. I better go clean up."
How embarrassing! This would only happen to me on a first date. I try in vain to clear it up in the restroom. I wipe up what I can but I'm wearing a cashmere mix coat (my favorite coat for that matter), and tissue just isn't going to cut it. I scrub my hands furiously afterwards. Ick!
I keep my head held high as I head back to Tyler. "I ah, think I better go," I say. "I've had fun though. Thank you, it was just what I needed today."
"You're handling it very well," he says with a smile.
"That's me, handling being shat on with class." I can't help but laugh.
He kisses me on the cheek, carefully keeping his chest from mine, and we both head in our different directions. I call Alice on the way back to the car and she is merciless.
"Let me get this straight," she says sternly. "You were shat on by a seagull. On your first date with this Tyler guy. You're now on your way to your car. You're still wearing the coat with shit on it. And now you're talking to me?"
"Correct," I agree.
I lose her for a while as she is overcome with laughter, and again as she shouts to tell Jasper my news in the background.
"Seriously, what is it with you and guys and poop?"
I laugh along; probably looking like a crazy person, with bird shit on her camel-colored coat, walking up 2nd Avenue. I think I'll stop off at the dry cleaners on the way home.
Author's note
Thanks ever so much for sticking with this story. Please tell me what you think. More Edward in the next chapter, I promise.
Huge thanks to Songster for betaing my splice-loving syntax. Rhona, thanks for your input with this chappie. I think it reads much better after your suggestion.
Feel for me – getting shat on by a seagull on a date actually happened to me! Fail. I'm Rhian0000 on Twitter if you want to chat. I'm always happy to make new friends.
Much love,
Rhian xx