Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight
Chapter 7
Emails and Discoveries
From: Edward Cullen
To: Isabella Swan
Date: Monday, February 24, 2014 8:34AM
Subject: A case of the...
Monday has officially been deemed the worst day of the week. Fine, I'm lying, maybe it's not been publicized, but I doubt there would be too much backlash if it was. I won't be able to see you for an additional 120 hours, which is in fact, 120 hours too long.
Let's have dinner, Friday night, I'll bring the food, you provide the kitchen? I promise to do my absolute best and not destroy your kitchen. I'm a wreck when it comes to food, have I told you this? To be fair, I've never had to cook for myself, someone's always been willing. Since, you've shared your thoughts on food, I'm hoping you'll indulge me.
Please say yes,
Edward Cullen
Cullen Enterprise, Inc.
From: Isabella Swan
To: Edward Cullen
Date: Monday, February 24, 2014 8:56AM
Subject: Re: A case of the...
Good morning Edward,
I would have thought you'd be at work, maybe an important meeting? Whatever the case, I'm sure there are other matters you should be attending to. They might help to keep your mind off the 120 hours, perhaps, if you'd think of it as 5 days, the time would seem shorter.
As for your Friday request, yes, I look forward to dinner. And no, you've never mentioned your failed chef skills. Should I be the one to cook? I don't mind, really. In fact, I insist. I might also be worried about your admission, you know, the one where you mentioned burning down my kitchen. It doesn't inspire confidence.
I said yes!
Isabella Swan
Forks Animal Shelter
From: Edward Cullen
To: Isabella Swan
Date: Monday, February 24, 2014 9:13AM
Subject: Failed chef
Good morning Beautiful,
Was that a reprimand? Are you really scolding me through email...for not working? I will have you know my morning meeting was cancelled. In any case, it's all a matter of perspective and keeping to one's priorities. You happen to be at the top of the list.
I'm glad you've said yes. I would have shown up at your door anyway, (this way the police won't be involved). Was that a terrible joke?
I should add, I never said a word about your kitchen being burned. I only hinted at its destruction, without discussing any specifics. As for your request, how about a compromise? We'll prepare the meal together. That way the work won't fall on your shoulders and I won't feel like a useless boar. Besides, it would be nice to learn how to cook a simple meal.
Edward Cullen
Cullen Enterprise, Inc.
From: Isabella Swan
To: Edward Cullen
Date: Monday, February 24, 2014 9:26AM
Subject: Dinner plans
I wasn't trying to reprimand you. I didn't want to be an inconvinience or a bother.
You should know, any potential unannounced visit from you would be welcomed. There would have been no need for the police, unless you scared me and I was unable to see your face, then maybe a phone call would have been warranted. I hope that was never your intention.
Somehow, not knowing what harm you may inflict on my kitchen is worse than assuming it would catch fire. Would a bomb go off? Would the cabinet doors be destroyed? Would my favorite spatula go missing? The horror!
I can agree to your compromise. I'm sure we can wrangle up something that won't cause harm to my home and help your culinary skills. By the way, what would you like to prepare? I have several simple recipes. Unless you're feeling brave and we can try a more convulated one. It's up to you. What are you in the mood for?
Isabella Swan
Forks Animal Shelter
From: Edward Cullen
To: Isabella Swan
Date: Monday, February 24, 2014 9:42AM
Subject: Re: Dinner plans
I like email you. You're like a spitfire. Should we change our morning routine, email's instead of phone call's?
By the way, terrible move on your part, inviting me into your home, especially unannounced. I'm going to show up every chance I get. Trust me, it won't be to scare you either, at least not intentionally.
Speaking of unattended consequences, I will do my best not to harm your kitchen. Therefore, how about we try something simple for my first lesson? My mother used to make lasagnia and salad, she made it look simple enough can we try that?
Edward Cullen
Cullen Enterprise, Inc.
From: Isabella Swan
To: Edward Cullen
Date: Monday, February 24, 2014 10:03AM
Subject: Re: Re: Dinner plans
Spitfire? Please don't change the routine, I like waking up to your voice.
As long as we're clear that my home is a scare-free zone, my doors always open. I don't mind your company.
Lasagnia? It's a simple recipe, but it does take time. It would be a while before we ate so you might not make it home until late. I hope that's okay, let me know if you want to try something different, if your short on time.
Isabella Swan
Forks Animal Shelter
From: Edward Cullen
To: Isabella Swan
Date: Monday, February 24, 2014 10:17AM
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Dinner plans
You once called me an open book, or at least hinted at it. You, you're the complete opposite. It's so hard for me to get a read on you. Maybe its because we're not in the same vicinity, but you are much more forthcoming through email.
Lasagnia works fine. I'm sure we can entertain ourselves while the meal is a brewing.
Edward Cullen
Cullen Enterprise, Inc.
From: Isabella Swan
To: Edward Cullen
Date: Monday, February 24, 2014 10:29AM
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Dinner plans
Lasagnia it is, see you Friday night.
Isabella Swan
Forks Animal Shelter
There was a tinge of guilt that coursed through Bella as she reread Edward's last email. Because she was able to maintain a conversation with him that was not laced with awkward pauses, or ended after a few minutes, she assumed her defenses had resided, at least temporarly.
Truth be told, had it not been for Edward, she would not have noticed how exhausted she was. Her mind and body happy with the reprieve her time with Edward alloted her. With him things were simple.
It was the simplicity and easiness of their relationship that had lulled Bella into a false sense of securtiy. However, now after reading his email she thought back, re-examining their interactions. In each instance, Bella observed, Edward acted as a guide. She was merely a participant, rarely, if ever, divuling any personal information.
Sifting through her memories, she recognized the extreme lengths he'd gone throuhg to make her feel at ease. Renting out a restaurant for the night, spending most of his time at the shelter or her home. Everything was for her benefit.
Anyone with half a mind could see how insecure and uncapable Bella felt in public. Like a gentleman, Edward made no mention of it. He'd gone above and beyond to ensure her comfort. Bella would let him in, if she knew how. But how could she rid herself of a coping mechanism she'd had for years?
Bella spent the week reassuring herself that Edward was trustworthy. Promising herself to be more confident and less guarded. With time, she hoped, he would come to know her.
When Friday finally arrived, her resolve had lessened. Her conviction had diminished and she prayed the least she could do was prepare a sound meal.
The knock on her door came sooner than Bella expected. Emmett bounded towards the sound, scratching the wood, waiting for her to catch up. She turned the knob, arms wrapping around her as soon as the door swung opne.
"We match," Edward said once he released her.
Bella nodded mutely, pulling her lip inbetween her teeth. She attempted reached for one of the bags he was carrying, Edward bypassing her, heading straight to the kitchen; Bella hot on his trail.
He placed the bags on the kitchen counter, removing the items one by one, making a show of it, mocking infomercials. Bella watched followed his movements, entranced. When Edward finished, he turned to her, a grimace on his face.
"I'm nervous," he admitted.
"About?" She asked, not meeting his gaze.
"Cooking. I don't want to burn down your kitchen." She laughed, freely, boisteresly and Edward pouted, trying in vain to hold back a grin.
"Do you really believe I'd let you burn down my kitchen?"
"Probably not," he smiled.
"Then you have no worries."
Bella put him to work. Letting him grate the cheese and prepare the salad. She narrated her every move, pacing herself for Edward's sake. She had been skeptical of his inability in the kitchen, but the lenght he went through to prepare a salad... She didn't want to risk her home.
Edward set his gaze on her, content to be an observer. Bella's posture relaxed, features soft, a confidence exuding from her. One he'd only witnessed leave her during their time in the shelter. She placed the meal in the oven and set the timer, returning to his side.
"Now what?"
"We wait."
"How long?"
"Half an hour."
"Perfect, I promised you entertainment and I've brought it," Edward grinned.
He left her alone for a second, running out to his car, returning with several board games.
"I brought, Chess, Checkers, Connect 4, Life, Boggle, Jenga, and Monopoly. Which one?"
"Jenga," Bella responded amused.
She removed the magazines from the living room table, clearing it for the game. They settled down across from one another on the carpet floor. Edward spilling the game pieces on the table, stacking them up as Bella waited patiently.
"You or me?"
"Ladies first."
To her surprise, Edward played dirty. Sweeping his hand through her hair, placing his hand on her knee, strumming his fingers on her arm. She had yet to go past a fourth turn. Each time the tower tumbled Edward gave her a toothy grin.
"You're terrible at this."
"It's your fault."
"How?" His smirk giving away his lie.
"You know how."
"Don't be a sore loser Bella," she huffed petulantly, bowing her head down, her hair hiding her face.
"Don't hide, not from me." He pulled her hair back, bringing her down to his lap.
Edward held her there, pulling a new game.
"Connect 4?"
"Sure."
Bella remained fixed in his lap, his arms around her waist, only removing them when it was his move. This time around, she won the game.
And then, she won again, and kept winning until the timer went off.
"It smells good," Edward said as she pulled the casserole from the oven.
"Let's hope it taste good too."
"I'm sure it does."
They sat down to eat, Edward moaning his approval from time to time. With each grunt he made, Bella blossomed, thrilled that the meal was a success. Their success.
"Like my mother used to make."
"I didn't do it alone."
"No, but I'm sure if I'd done it, my mother's memory would have been smeared."
Bella froze mid bite. Rehearing his words. She must have misheard him. He never said..Michael never... the article's...she read them, his mother is alive. The panic that overcame her must have been visible because Edward stopped eating as well.
"Your mother, is she..."
"She passed away when I was very young; my father as well."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know."
Her mind was racing. She hadn't known, none of the research Michael had sent her spoke of an adoption.
"Why would you? Not many do. When I was adopted, my family wasn't as influential as we are now and the press wasn't as persistant, so it went unnoticed. It was so long ago, no one brings it up."
"Oh," she spoke, her voice nearly muted.
"Please, don't look so glum."
"I didn't...that is to say...I..."
"Didn't mean to bring it up?" He finished for her. "You didn't, I did. It was this meal, her comfort food. When ever she felt blue she would prepare this same meal."
"We don't have to discuss this. It's your choice." Bella voice faltered. Curious to know the answer, but not wanting to press him for answers.
"It was a car accident. They were returning from a weekend getaway, when an oncoming drunk driver derailed them. I was staying with my mother's sister, Esme, and I've been with her ever since."
"That's why you look like her, Esme?" Her voice still hollow.
"Yes, and she looked like my mom."
"What were their names?"
"Edward and Elizabeth Masen."
"You're a junior?" A small smile on Bella's lips. Her mind still convulted.
"A third actually."
She stayed silent then, Edward taking the opportunity to clear the dishes, refuting Bella's assistance. He tidied up the place, leaving only two glasses of wine he served and walked over to the couch, patting the space next him, beckoning her.
"How do you know Esme?" Edward asked, something in his tone signaling an alarm in Bella.
"Michael, my accountant, sent me information about your family. He was preparing me, so I wouldn't go in blind to our first meeting."
"You prepared?"
"Yes, if there is a need for me to attend an event, or meet someone, for the benefit of the shelter, I rehearse potential conversations. I had no idea who you were, or your family. Michael helped with the research aspect emailing me articles and pictures. You are famous you know." Edward snorted in derision.
"Our first conversation then, did you rehearse?"
"Yes," she confessed.
"And now?"
"No, how could I?"
He kissed her temple in response.
"Another round of Jenga?" Edward joked.
"No cheating."
"No cheating," he confirmed.
Of course, Edward lied. His hands searched her out; rubbing, touching, and resting on her body, constantly. In the end, when her nerves won out, she challenged him to a game of Boggle.
Again he cheated, although now she suspected it was to see her laugh. Writing down slang words and describing what they meant in great detail. Some of them, she was sure, he made up.
It wasn't until Bella yawned, Edward found that they had spent the last three hours playing board games. She didn't want him to leave and again offered him a place to sleep. It was past midnight, the streets would be dark and they had been drinking. She wanted him safe, at her side.
Repeating the events of his previous overnight visit, she provided him with sleepwear, leaving him alone to change. Emmett, who had been sleeping on his bed, ran to the living room, upset with all the noise Bella was making.
Edward passed the dog, laughing at his antics, making his way to Bella's room. She'd forgotten to close her bathroom door and he could see her, brushing her hair.
"You have beautiful hair, soft to touch," he said, his fingers playing with her tips.
"Did you need something?" She looked down, hiding her reddening face.
"You."
"I'm right here."
"Then so am I."
Bella hadn't understood his words, not at first, until he grabbed her hand and laid down next to her on the bed. Her head on his chest, his arms wrapped around her, their legs entwining. His hard body molding with her soft one. That is how they slept. Together.