Chapter 7

for grabadietcoke, 4eva

"I never like to make plans. It's nice to just hang." – Tom Hiddleston

The next time I saw her, her words lay naked before me.

Once Bella's shower was done, she came out of the bathroom wearing only two braids in her hair. Unfortunately, she then put on a pair of cutoff jeans, the edges frayed, and a checkered shirt that reminded me of a picnic. I guess she was going full on Minnie Pearl tonight.

She offered me something to drink and went to look in the mini fridge, but came up empty. "Sorry, I can offer you some ginseng tea or a Mountain Dew. That's about it." She laughed. "Now that I'm twenty one, I should stock some booze, huh?"

"It's fine." I can't imagine sitting in this camper all night anyway, so I tell her I have some wine at my place if she'd like to go there. As I say it, I realize this will be the first time I've had a girl other than my mother or Eloise at my apartment. I don't usually share my living space with the women I date.

Bella grabs her bag, shoves some of the unraveled sweater into it for some reason, and salutes me. "Let's go!"

"Will your camper be ok here overnight?"

"Sure, I'm working at the food truck again tomorrow, I'm paying off Lee for fixing this thing up when it died the other day."

"So he's not paying you?" I ask, confused.

"No. I needed a favor, and so did he. It worked out." She steps out and locks the door behind me when I exit.

"So what do you do for money?"

"I don't worry about money."

I think I stop in the middle of the street to look at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she says, pulling me towards my parked car, "that it isn't important enough to worry about."

"But…if you work for favors and volunteer to work behind bars how do you make any money? Alice says 'hi' by the way Consuela."

Bella giggles. "Oh I was in a mood that day." She looks at me as I open her door. "How do you know about that? Did you go there to find me?" She's giving me a smile like she's found out my deepest secret.

"I plead the fifth on the searching bit, but I did ask when I was there Sunday. Now get in, before someone hits the car door with it hanging open like this."

She does as I say and when I've gotten in my side and pulled from the curb, I get back to the money conversation, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it.

"So, the money thing? What do you do for money?"

"Various things. But nothing illegal if that's what you're worried about." Rubbing the leather seats, she continues. "So, I'm guessing by this fancy car that you live in an equally fancy place."

"Hmm maybe my living quarters will surprise you." I shift my eyes over to her, giving her my best grin. She seems to fall under my spell just a bit, until she insults me.

"Doubtful. You're stuffy." As she's insulting me, she at least has the decency to giggle while she's doing it. Softens the blow.

"Excuse me? I am not stuffy."

"You've been in a suit every time I've seen you. I'm guessing you live in one of those nice high-rises downtown, you know, doorman, marble floor..."

"Well then you're in for a treat." A few moments later I pull into my parking garage and escort her to the elevator, her boots making that shuffle plop sound again.

"See? Parking garage, elevator in said garage…" She trails off when she sees it's not a normal lift. There are no gilded mirrors or brass rails. I close the industrial steel cage door with a loud clang and latch the bottom hook with my foot. She allows me to grab her and I use our joined hands to pull the lever up, holding it until we get to my floor.

Once I pull the door open, I motion for her to enter the hall ahead of me. The walls are cement block, painted beige, and the lights on the wall are covered in wire brackets, the kind you'd see on gymnasium lights. There are just two doors on this floor, my neighbors and mine. I move to the one painted red and unlock it, pulling the heavy sliding door along its track.

Flipping on the entryway light, which mirrors those in the hallway, I usher her inside. Smiling, I turn to her and do a 'ta da' movement with my arms. The view is the same one I see every night, the streetlights from outside enough to see by, but I'm enjoying her check out my space so I turn on more lights for her. She moves into the room, trailing her fingers over the cement island of the kitchen, and turns to me.

"Okay. Okay I can admit I was wrong." She throws up her hands in frustration and lets out the last word in a bellow. "I guess you're not a lawyer then."

Laughing, I turn to the fridge to get the wine. "Actually, I am. Or will be. Last year of law school coming up. And then into politics." I'm reaching for two glasses and the opener, when I realize Bella hasn't said anything. Turning, I see her standing stiffly in place, her lips mashed into a line.

"What?" I ask her, grabbing the wine and fiddling with the neck of the bottle, loosening the tin cap.

"You're a politician?" She asks, her eyes not meeting mine.

"Well technically not yet, but I vote." I halfheartedly chuckle at my own joke, trying to lighten whatever mood just fell over us. "Hey, what's the matter?" I move to her, my hands resting on her shoulders, trying to comfort? Understand? I'm not sure.

"I can't vote." She starts strangely terse, but then smiles. "I was born in Canada."

"Ha! Well don't worry, I won't tell." I wonder about her aversion to politicians, but I don't ask. I turn back to the wine, opening it and pouring two glasses. Glad to see that whatever was bothering her is gone, she's reaching for the glass I hold out, but I pull it back. "Since you just turned twenty one, I have to ask. Have you ever had wine before?" I narrow my eyes at her, in what I hope appears to be a playful gesture.

"Pfft. I've had absinthe in Amsterdam." She answers, rolling her eyes at me and taking her glass. Turning back to the room, she glides around the furniture, trying to figure me out, assessing.

As she's just about to peek under the blanket in the corner, I surprise myself with the sharp "don't" that escapes my mouth.

She startles, but moves on, joking and pointing at the lump. "Tanya? Under there?" She moves to the floor to ceiling bookcase and runs her hand across my collection of rare sheet music and looks around the loft, stopping at the blanket with a knowing look on her face. Thankfully, she doesn't say what I know she's thinking and instead moves to the area of the room the bed is in.

"Oooh oooh, now THAT is a bed!" Bella puts her glass down on the end table and climbs up. It's high, so she has to kind of half jump half climb, and I appreciate her backside once again. She takes off her boots and sprawls out, doing one of those angels in the snow moves. "Oh it's just so fluffy! This can't possibly belong to a man! I could stay here forever!"

The thought has some appeal, but instead of voicing that, I sip my wine, just watching her body move. She remains laying on the bed, legs curled up and feet tucked under her ass like a pin up pose. Lifting her arms to loosen the braids, her hands fan out the long wavy hair across my bedspread. She looks so innocent but sexy lying on the white bedding. Cowgirl gone terribly, terribly wicked.

My voice is rough. "Are you hungry? I think I have some cheese and bread I can feed you."

"Sure." She sits up and grabs her wine, but stays seated on the bed. "You're not going to stay in your suit are you? You don't look very comfortable."

I pause thinking, and I for the first time ever, I'm uncomfortable standing in my suit. I agree and go to change.

I leave my walk in closet a few moments later wearing a loose pair of navy pajama pants and holding a t-shirt. Just as I'm about to slip it over my head, Bella stops me. I see her checking out my body, no shyness at all as she looks me over. "Leave the shirt off." I do.


"My mom raised me. We were really close, sisters more like. She didn't like to stay in one place too long; she said it made her feel claustrophobic. So instead of leaving me with relatives like some might do, which I don't think we had anyway, she took me with her."

"Sounds lonely." I'm lying on the couch while Bella is sitting next to the coffee table. Our feast gone and wine almost empty. I pour her what's left, watching her lick the side of the glass for the drop that escaped.

"It wasn't, at all. It was fantastic. I had so many playmates. Older, younger, rich, poor, you name it. I never had trouble making friends. I learned so much from so many different types of people. It's the kind of education you could never get sitting in a classroom."

"But that stuff is important too, I mean, you need to learn to read and write." I have a sudden fear that maybe she can't.

"Of course I can read and write." If my statement offends her, it doesn't show. "My mother was studying to be a teacher before she became pregnant with me. She was able to complete most of her schooling before I came along. And what she couldn't teach I'd learn from people we met and schools where we stayed for a while. I had more teachers and benefitted from more subjects than any school can offer."

I contemplate this, wrapping my head around it. All I've ever known is the institution of a structured school system. Hell, my parents wouldn't let me sign up for any elective that wasn't debate team or mock UN.

"I've sheared sheep in India, painted houses in Mississippi, worked on a farm in Idaho. I've helped Alzheimer's patients in nursing homes and served food to the homeless in Seattle. My life was rich, and full of love. We made family everywhere we went." Her voice takes on a melancholy edge, and I hesitate but ask what exactly happened to her mother.

Bella stands and makes a scooting motion at me so I slide over on the couch as much as possible, making room for her to fold her body against mine, her back to my front. The music we had turned on before is low in the background; Nina Simone seems to fit the sudden sadness.

"We were driving in a huge mess of a camper, way bigger than the one I have now. We had just crossed the border from Mexico to California when Renee grabbed her chest and started to gasp for breath. The trailer started pitching back and forth and I tried to grab the wheel to keep it straight, the whole time yelling 'Mom! Mom! What's wrong?' I was so scared and the steering wheel wouldn't cooperate. At some point she had let the gas go, so we weren't moving too fast, but I couldn't control it and we crashed into the side of a highway overpass, the front of the trailer folded up and smashed the windshield and I got knocked out for a few seconds or minutes, I'm not sure. But when I came to, my mother was dead. Massive heart attack. She was forty."

"Oh my god Bella…" Is all I manage as I put my arms around her, she's composed, but gripping my arms tightly.

"They said that there was nothing I could've done. That she probably died before the crash and I hadn't noticed. I believe them, I don't have some martyr notion that had I not crashed the trailer and been able to get help that she would've survived. I'm just glad she got to paint the Mexican pottery she loved so much."

"Bella, when did this happen?"

"A year ago May." We lay there in silence; my hands make slow circles on her stomach.

Bella shakes her head slightly. "Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sleepy. Can you take me home?"

"I'd rather you stayed here. I can sleep on the couch."

"Can't we sleep in your bed together? I promise I'll keep my hands to myself." I'm glad she's not so sad she can't joke.

"Well then I'm definitely not sleeping in the bed with you." I chuckle and move to get up. Clearing away the glasses and food, Bella uses the bathroom and yells through the door.

"Edward?" She continues before I answer. "There's only one problem."

"And that would be?"

"I sleep naked. Unless that's an issue, I can borrow a t-shirt maybe?"

I'm surprised the wine glass I'm rinsing doesn't slip and break in the sink.

I clear my throat, "Um no that's ok. Do whatever you're comfortable with."

In my periphery, I see Bella jump from the bathroom doorway onto the bed, where she rolls around again before getting under the sheets. It's a bit warm and I've left off the thick down comforter, but ask her if she wants it.

"No, I'm a warm sleeper, I usually end up kicking everything off anyway." I put the other glass down, unwashed, very carefully. I feel a bit weird with the on and off switch of tonight's conversation, but if she's ok with not getting heavy handed, I sure am.

After turning off the lights, I make my way to the bed and tell her to move, as she's on my side. She smiles and scootches her body over, barely clearing the middle. I climb in and turn to her, looking at her face, half lit in the manufactured glow of the streetlight, and the other half by the moonlight from the other window on the opposite wall.

"I'm sorry about your mom, Bella." I whisper into the darkness.

"It's ok. She's always with me." I want to kiss her inappropriately, but she ducks her head under my chin, pushing me onto my back. She puts her arm around my stomach while my arm hovers above her shoulders, not quite sure what I'm expected to do. "Is this ok?" She asks.

I lower my arm to pull her into me.

Yeah. It's ok.


Follow me on twitter: planetbluefic

Follow me on facebook: Planetblue Fic

From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:

Pinky Swear by kharizzmatick

Bella always knew she loved her best friend, but it isn't until she finds out he's engaged that she remembers just how much. How far will she go to make him see he's marrying the wrong woman? A story about finding your heart and losing your head. AH E/B

I'm thankful for reviews on Thanksgiving! Have a happy turkey day!