Sorry this is so late in the day! I've been out all day and rushed to update as soon as I got home!
Ok, I have some things to say before I let you read the next chapter! I've gotten some comments (not that I'm upset about or anything) about how this story is turning out and I want to sincerely apologize if it's not holding up to the standards of Cold as Fire. It was a wonderful idea in my head, but as I write it out, nothing seems to be turning out like I imagined it would. So I'm really sorry if it's not as good!
I also have some bad news. I am leaving on Saturday early in the morning to go on vacation for two weeks (not bad news for me...) I will try to update if I can, but seeing as I can't take my laptop, I highly doubt I will be able to! I won't be getting back until August 11, which leads me to my next question. Seeing as this is a pre-Eclipse story, I want to know how many people will still be interested in reading this after Eclipse comes out, because it will be slightly outdated and have to disregard everything that happens in Eclipse. So when you review, please just let me know if you plan to keep reading. If no one is interested after Eclipse comes out, than I'm not going to to continue writing. If enough people are, than I will. Thanks a bunch!
Sorry this note is so long. The next two chapters aren't very exciting, but they are more setting the stage for Edward's current condition and getting to know the family he's with a little better. I hope you enjoy them!
Oh, sorry, one last thing. I'll post another chapter tomorrow, which is also as far as I've written, before I go on vacation. So you get two in a row and then two weeks without! Really sorry!!!!
Edward's POV
Seattle passed by the window in a blur of white snow and brown trees. The sky began to darken with the coming night and for some unexplainable reason I was sad to see the sun go. The car remained silent for the better part of the drive, Ellen occasionally apologize for the state the house was and exclaiming as to how abnormally snowy the winter had proven to be so early on. I wasn't quite sure as to what to reply, so I content her with short, polite answers.
This situation was uncomfortably awkward, though certainly preferable to being bedridden in a hospital. My fingers gave a painful twinge and I tried to shift them inside my rather bulky cast, which unfortunately only caused them to hurt even more. I certainly was grateful of her kindness, yet I was just as anxious to find my own family.
After about forty-five minutes of driving we entered a rather pleasant neighborhood, kids were out playing despite the nearing darkness, throwing snowballs at each other and ignoring parent's insistent demands to come in before they catch a cold. Ellen crunched into a snow-covered driveway bordering one of the only houses lacking a snowman and an abundance of sleds, shovels, and other various winter-themed items.
Two naked brown trees were placed on either side of the front of the small, off-white house. As we pulled into the garage I could infer that there was no 'man of the house' per se, for there was no room for another car and the small building was starkly bare besides a shovel, a rake, and a few bikes. I followed the two females along a short path bordering the rather small back yard through the back door, which I noted was unlocked.
We stepped into a rather cozy kitchen, painted in warm tones of reds and yellows. Though I couldn't remember anything from my previous life, I was fairly certain I had never seen so many cupboards in my life. They lined the wall above the counter and the opposite one above a slight recess which the fridge and stove were placed, varying in all sizes. Some seemed large enough that I could sit comfortably inside while others were so miniscule it was a wonder that anything could be fit into them at all.
No sooner had I taken this all in when a loud noise erupted through the kitchen and I felt something hard knock forcefully in my body, nearly sending sprawling to the floor. I looked down in surprise to find myself being wetly molested by a large and rather floppy looking golden dog.
"Off Mozart," Cara commanded and the dog obediently stopped licking me, though not moving from my side. Cara smiled at me reassuringly. "Don't worry she's friendly." I looked down at the happily panting dog.
"She?" I asked, rather amused, reaching with my left hand to stroke behind the large golden ears. Mozart groaned in pleasure.
"Don't ask," Cara replied, rolling her eyes in her mother's direction, who had busied herself with extracting and cautiously stapling the papers that the doctor had given her. Once she had safely stacked them in a folder in one of the numerous cupboards she turned back towards us, smiling.
"You must be starving!" she exclaimed in a very motherly way. "Cara, why don't you show him up to Ray's room, he can stay there for the time being. I'll call you down when dinner's ready." Cara glanced over at me hesitantly, an unreadable expression on her face. I couldn't tell if she was comfortable with this whole situation or not. Whatever her feelings, she motioned for me to follow; I noticed her eyes lingering on my face a few extra seconds before turning to exit the kitchen. It was rather disconcerting to not know what I looked like. Did she find me attractive, or was she simply amazed at my abnormally deformed face? Mentally making a note to find a mirror I followed her through the doorway into the adjoining room, Mozart staying quite attached to my legs.
I stopped in surprise as Cara flicked on the overhead light, illuminating the unexpected room. What had originally been built as a dining room had been converted into strange mix of a music studio and an art room. A piano had been carefully placed in the corner that was the front edge of the house, a cello case occupying the bench. A hard wood chair and a black music stand overflowing with music were placed relatively close to the piano, a large, open chest stacked high with music taking up the space between them.
The other half of the room was taken up with shelves of paints, paper, brushes, and much, much more. An easel with a blank canvas was set up in the corner, a palate of dried paints set precariously on a round stool set slightly adjacent, as if the painter had left in quite a hurry. No doubt when she got the call that her daughter was in an accident, presuming it was Cara's mother who was the painter.
The walls however were what caught the majority of my attention. Nearly every inch of space was covered with painting, tacked up with no particular order, all unframed and signed in the corner E.M. Sweeney. Some were pleasant landscapes, depicting large fields or mountains, with small cottages or a flock of cattle grazing in the distance. Then there were still-lifes, showing everything from vases filled with flowers, to skulls and rodents. Stranger still, were the rather captivating images of fantastical scenes, all portraying some sort of creature, from beautiful images of faeries and elves, to rather brutal and gruesome illustrations of gnarled and vicious looking monsters, complete with fangs and dripping blood.
"These are all my moms," Cara's voice cut through my fascination as she motioned to the paintings on the wall. "She likes to paint."
"I can tell," I remarked, stepping forward to closer examine what looked to be half-man, half-dog sneaking up on an unsuspecting young man. I turned to glance back at Cara. "Does she do it for a living?"
"No," Cara shook her head, though by the tone of her voice, I could tell she was still quite proud of her mother's work. "Though she does sell some of her work," she shrugged nonchalantly "local art shows and stuff." I nodded in understanding.
"She's a music teacher usually," Cara explained, motioning towards the piano and cello. "She teaches at one of the middle schools and gives private lessons." I sensed a slight undertone to her voice.
"You don't play?" I questioned and Cara shook her head sending black hair rippling in all directions.
"That talent seemed to skip me," she sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "Come, we're upstairs."
I followed her up a dark wood staircase that divided the room we were just in from the living room. At the top of the stairs was a small landing bordered by four doors. Two on were closed, but through the opens ones I could see what looked to be a small study on the left and a bathroom on the right. Cara motioned me towards the shut room to the left of the staircase, the door was slightly stuck, but swung open with a firm kick.
"This is my brother's room," she explained. I glanced around apprehensively. A neatly made twin bed was pressed into a corner, a mismatched dresser and desk placed on opposite walls. Two floor length windows were covered by heavy black curtains. The walls were adorned with an assortment of magazine cut outs ranging from classic muscle cars to rather scantily clad models. Other than that, the room was surprisingly empty.
"He's in college," Cara answered my unspoken question. "So you're free to take over his room." I must have looked slightly surprised because she hastily added: "He's not coming home for Christmas, so you don't have to worry. He's going to his girlfriend's in Minnesota. Mom's not too happy."
"And he won't mind?" I asked, still hesitant to be using someone's room. Cara smiled rather maliciously.
"Does it matter?" I could hear the mirth laced through her voice. "He's not using it." Cara crossed the room and squatted onto the bed, which squeaked mercilessly under her. For the first time since I entered the house, Mozart left my side and sprang up onto the bed beside Cara. I remained where I was, unsure of what I was supposed to do. Thankfully Cara seemed to sense my discomfort and spoke next.
"Do you want to change?" she asked me, her cheeks growing pink as she glanced up and down my body. "Ray's a bit bigger than you, but I'm sure you can fit." I glanced down at my clothes surreptitiously. They were rather filthy, smeared with dirt and blood and sporting several inconvenient rips.
Cara seemed to take my silence as confirmation and rose from the bed, opening several dresser drawers to find me something to wear. She handed me a pair of baggy plaid pajama pants, and a gray t-shirt with the words Wisconsin Badgers emblazoned across the front.
"They're washed," she assured me as if I might think they were the most revolting things in the world. She bit her lip, suddenly nervous.
"At least until we can get you some clothes," she offered and I accepted them as graciously as I could. I really didn't want to be causing her any unnecessary anxiety, especially since I had gather that she had been the one driving when the accident had occurred.
I excused myself to the bathroom, and attempted to change my clothes, which I have to admit, is extremely difficult with one arm in a cast. Eventually I managed to dress myself, and straightening up, found myself captivated by the mirror.
Thankfully, my fears of deformation were quenched. I didn't think I was anything special, but I certainly wasn't ugly. A long and fortunately blemish free face stared back at me, green eyes contrasting sharply with a mess of copper hair. I looked startlingly pale and I wondered if I ever got out much. After my blissful meeting with the sun earlier today, I couldn't imagine ever not wanting to go outside.
A large gash sliced through my forehead, though it had been neatly stitched up. Other than that and the inconvenient cast weighing down my arm I was remarkably unscathed. Either the accident hadn't been as bad as I had made it out to be, or everyone was remarkably lucky.
The room was empty as I reentered it, except for Mozart who whimpered excitedly from the bed as I sat next to her. So absorbed was I in my thoughts as I absently scratched the dog's golden head that I didn't notice Cara had entered the room until she sat herself squeakily onto the bed beside me, enough distance between us so as not to insinuate anything. Her hands were clasped together so tightly her knuckles turned as white as the snow outside.
"I…" she started and faltered. I knew what she was trying to do.
"There's no need to apologize," I told her, though she remained staring guiltily at the ground.
"Well, I'm sorry anyways," she continued looking into my face sincerely. "You wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for me." I tried to shrug it off lightly.
"It's not so bad," I smiled at her and she laughed nervously. She was quite pretty when she smiled, I noticed. "Anyways, what's happened has happened and there's no sense in dwelling on it." Surprise plastered itself to Cara's face.
"You…You're not upset with me then?" she inquired and I shook my head sincerely. She unclasped her hands and patted Mozart on the head, who nuzzled in closer to her. I was sure if that dog had been a cat, she would be purring like a motor.
"So," she asked, a little more confident now that she was sure I wasn't about to start yelling at her "you can't remember anything at all?"
"Nothing," I replied, searching my head for what seemed like the millionth time for any scrap of information. It was like during the crash my head had connected with a black hole, sucking everything it once contained into the black void of space.
"How about how old you are?" she asked curiously. I'm sure it must be interesting to have a conversation with someone who had no clue who they were. I shook my head. She pursed her lips in thought.
"Well, you are definitely younger than Ray, and he's twenty," she stated, examining my face intently. "I would place you as a junior or a senior, which would make you about seventeen or eighteen." I nodded my head slowly. I certainly didn't feel much older than that.
"Very probable," I replied and she smiled in delight. Now I took in her softly rounded features. "And I would guess you to be the same?"
"Seventeen," she replied honestly. "A junior." Then she paused thoughtfully.
"What about a name?" I nearly laughed.
"What do you think I look like?" I asked her back, and she drew slightly away from me, as if trying to view me in full, like a complex oil painting.
"Hmmm…" she put a thumb on her chin, mocking someone in deep thought. I couldn't help smiling in amusement. "Well, it depends on what you like. We could go for something exotic, like Joaquin or Alejandro…no? How about something plainer, like Bob? Jacob?"
I found myself tense at that name inexplicably.
"Not Jacob," I replied fiercely. Cara looked rather amused.
"Ok, not Jacob," she agreed. "How about…Michael?" I found myself tensing again. Had these been people I knew from before? Cara seemed to sense my dislike and chuckled softly.
"No Michael," she muttered, pretending to cross names of a list in her palm. "This is tough…"
"Never named a person before I take it?" I joked and she shook her head seriously.
"How about Aaron?" she suggested. "I like Aaron."
"Good enough for me," I consented and she smiled proudly.
"Well, I'm sure whatever your name is, it's better than being named after a barber who kills people." I stared at her in half shock and confusion and she laughed at my expression.
"Haven't you ever heard the opera Sweeney Todd, The Demon Barber of Fleet Street?" I shook my head, though whether I had before or not was unknown to me. She sighed.
"It's about some barber and his mistress who kill people and sell them as pies. Not a fun name to have." I was about to reply when suddenly I was overcome by a strange sensation. I clasped my stomach tightly as it seemed to vibrate, emitting a rather loud, and embarrassing, noise. Cara barely took any notice of it, looking to the door as if expecting someone to appear there.
"I'm hungry too," she said offhandedly. "Should we go see whether my mom has dinner cooked yet?" My stomach gave another growl and I looked down at it in confusion. This time she seemed to notice my perplexity.
"You're hungry," she explained, looking at me strangely. "Don't you remember eating food?" I ran my good hand through my hair in slight bewilderment. If this was simply hunger, why would I be so startled at its appearance. Could I really have forgotten everything? If that were so, how could I have known so much about the cars in the parking lot, or even how to speak? Something didn't quite add up.
"Don't worry," Cara tried to quell my obvious stress and smiled delightedly. "You'll like food."
It was really hard to come up with another name for Edward. Nothing seemed to fit him as well as Edward does. You wouldn't believe how many times I've changed it!!!!!!
I hope you found this at least somewhat amusing. Review and let me know! Also, please respond to my question about whether you'll be interested in reading this after Eclipse comes out! One more chapter before vacation!!!
Oh, (crap I have way to many notes in this chapter!) I'm really sorry about the alert thing for the last chapter. It wasn't sending an alert so I tried to upload it a couple times and then all of a sudden it sent all of them! So I'm sorry there were so many alerts for the last chapter! I'll try not to do it again.
Ok, I'm officially shutting up now!