Where I live in the world, it's Thursday, so I'm posting. Thank you all for your reviews and your questions, and when I can offer clarification, I try, but I don't want to give away too much, so if I didn't get back to you (besides the fact I suck at responding at reviews), it's because the answers are coming soon.
I will offer this…the name Bella adopted in NY…Izzy Madison…holds no significance at all, it's just a name.
Southern Heifer pre-read this one for me, and for that, I'm quite grateful. Thank you SoHe.
I don't own the characters. I simply play the fiddle while they dance…
So, shall we see what was on the other side of the door?
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7.
"Isabella, I'm glad you agreed to come. I ordered food from 'Bella Italia'. I, um, I wasn't able to come up with anything to cook because I'm still trying to…Oh, please come in," Edward greeted sweetly.
He looked well. There was no limp evident at all, and his hair was the sexy mess it had been the first time I'd seen him. He seemed nervous, but that might have been me. I was scared to death, and I really didn't know what to say.
I stepped into our home, seeing it looked the same, yet completely different. "May I take your coat?" he asked meekly.
"Thank you, Dr. Cullen," I responded out of habit. I slipped it off my shoulders and straightened my dress before placing my purse on the same table I'd always placed it. The only thing lacking was the rattle of my keys in the bowl. I saw his resting inside, and I smiled.
"Please, Bella, after all of this, call me Edward," he instructed quietly. I nodded in agreement and tossed my hair over my shoulder, following him into our kitchen where so many happy memories had been made.
"Would you like a glass of wine?" he asked. I noticed he had a clear drink, and as much as I wanted to point out that if he was still taking anti-seizure medication he shouldn't be drinking, it dawned on me it was no longer my place.
"Please. That would be nice," I responded as I settled on the barstool at the counter where I used to sit on Sunday mornings in his shirt and watch him dance around the kitchen in his boxers cooking us breakfast while we listened to music. It was his day off, and we always slept late…or actually stayed in bed until early afternoon. We didn't sleep late, that was for damn sure.
He poured me a glass of Pinot Grigio, and corked the bottle. "You look well," he commented.
I didn't. He was just being kind, and I was wearing a pound of makeup to hide the circles under my eyes. At least he'd rejoined the human race wherein niceties were expected. I'd lost even more weight since I'd been in New York, but there, it was considered desirable to be the size of a pencil. Not one thing about me felt desirable.
"Thank you. You look very well. How are you? Are you seeing anyone?" I asked anxiously. I truly wanted to know. I only wanted him happy. Why I asked about him seeing anyone was a miscue, though. I didn't want his answer at all.
He chuckled a very "before" chuckle. I looked up from assessing my tights and saw the sexy smirk I fell in love with on his handsome face. The only difference was a small scar above his eyebrow, but he was and would remain the most handsome man in the world as far as I was concerned.
"That's kind of odd to ask so quickly, isn't it?" he asked smugly. That was the voice of the Edward I didn't love.
"I don't think so. I always hoped you'd find happiness, and the last time we spoke, if you could call it that, you reassured me you were attracted to blondes, so I hope maybe a buxom blonde has put that smug smile on your face. We don't have to eat, you know. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm sure your lady friend would rather see you sooner than later. I'll sign the papers. The settlement is beyond fair. I never wanted your money, you know. I have a good job, and your mother bought me out after I moved to New York," I offered.
"There's no buxom blonde, and you should know better than to listen to a crazy man whacked out on sedatives. Blondes were never my preference, and you know that," he commented as he took a sip from his drink. I picked up mine and mirrored his action.
I remembered a discussion we'd had when we were on our second date at the pizza place and the waitress, a bottle blonde, had pushed her more-than-ample chest in his face as she delivered the pizza.
"Hey, I can get a ride home with Alice and Jasper if you wanna hit that. It appears the woman is more than willing," I sniped, giving Alice and Jasper a good laugh.
Edward turned to me and leaned forward, kissing me in the middle of my chest. "I don't like blondes. I like smart-mouthed brunettes, especially when they're jealous." I flipped him off, and we all laughed about it.
"Well, that begs the question, now doesn't it? What do you remember?" I asked the sixty-million-gillion dollar question.
"Not as much as I hoped, but when Carlisle and Esme allowed me to move out of their house and I came back here, I spent some time perusing the book shelves. I've got some questions. Oh, and I found a photo album on our bed that brings more questions with it," he explained.
"Ask away," I offered. He took my hand, sending a thrill up my spine I immediately tamped down. I followed him into the living room, seeing a pine tree with lights and no decorations in the corner. The boxes were there, and the stork ornament was on the coffee table along with a lot of notes and loose photos of us. I immediately slipped off my shoes because it was going to be a long night.
I sat on the couch where we'd made love more than once, and tried to block those visions out of my head. I couldn't keep my mouth shut, though. "This picture was taken right after you proposed to me," I spouted as I pointed to the framed five-by-seven on the end table.
He kicked off his loafers and sat down to face me, placing his drink on the table. "I have flashes of it. What happened?" he asked.
"Well, we'd been living together for a few months, and you happened to come into the place where I worked early one afternoon. The guy I worked with was a pest of the first degree, and he kept asking me out even though I told him I had a boyfriend. You saw him flirting, and you informed my boss there was an emergency for which I needed to leave, so he agreed immediately.
"You drove us the four hours to the Space Needle and dragged me into the damn thing. After we got to the observation deck, you pulled me into a quiet corner…" I explained.
"And I told you I took you as close to heaven as I could because if one was going to propose to an angel, it should be near their home? God, I was fucking cheesy," he scoffed.
"You say cheesy…I say the most romantic man I've ever met in my life. You got down on one knee and proposed. You'd gone to the station at three o'clock in the morning when you finished at the hospital earlier that same day. You asked my dad for his blessing and permission, and he told you if you didn't get out of his goddamn office, I'd be a widow before I ever got married. We got married three days later because you didn't want to wait," I further explained.
"Damn, I was either the lamest bastard on the planet or I had more game than anyone in town," he joked.
"You were somewhere in between, but I loved it," I commented with a laugh.
"What's this about?" he asked as he handed me the stack of notes. I read through them and smiled. They really were the essence of our relationship, and it was a testament of how well we knew each other, even in such a short period of time.
"Ah, we took to leaving notes in our favorite books. For instance, this one you probably found in your old copy of "Catcher in the Rye." That's your favorite book. You related to Holden more than any other literary character because he had a hard time finding his place in the world, and you seemed to agree with him, you told me once. You said it was when you were trying to decide whether to go to medical school or pursue something else you finally understood Holden. 'Elmer, come talk to me. Tell me what's got you down.' That was my way of letting you know if you were reading Salinger, I knew something was wrong," I explained. I leafed through some of the other notes and found one in his handwriting to me.
"This one is one you'd have found in one of my smutty novels. 'Bugsy, if you're horny, come wake me up. You know I aim to please. I'm never too tired for you, baby.' That was the way we supported each other. We knew when to give each other space, but there was always a note of support. If you only found this many, you didn't go through all the books," I teased, remembering pictures and even notes written in the text of some of the books. We were both avid readers, and those books bore witness to the strength of our commitment.
"This would make a great movie," he commented. He didn't know how fucking right he was.
"So, what else?" I asked.
"What's this?" he asked as he handed me the box with the ornament I was set to give him the night of his accident.
"This…this is," I began before I started sobbing. It was as beautiful as I remembered it, and I remembered when I lost the baby. It was so fucking god awful I wanted to die.
As the tears rolled down my face, I braced myself for feeling the hurt again. "This is the gift I had to give you before we went to the cabin for Christmas with my dad. See, we'd decided to start a family, and I'd found out I was pregnant the day before Christmas Eve. I went to the doctor and…wait," I responded as I pulled the photo album from the table and flipped it to the back where the ultrasound of our baby was glued to a blank page.
"This was our baby. I had this ornament made to give you to tell you. I was so excited because I knew you'd go nuts over it. I lost the baby on December 26th. We were supposed to be in Hawaii, but instead, I was standing in a hospital room wondering if the love of my life was going to survive. I started cramping and when I went to the bathroom, I was bleeding. Your mom and dad were with you, and the doctors were keeping you in a coma, so I slipped off, found my gynecologist, and she told me I'd lost our baby. I'm so sorry. I'm so…" I began sobbing, feeling the pain again.
His arms around me were more than welcome. I felt his tears on my neck as he held me, and we finally mourned the loss of our baby together. I'd mourned it a lot, but no one else knew it because I thought it was too much to share at the time, so I'd carried it alone. It actually felt good, as bad as that sounds, to share it with my husband…my baby's father.
He handed me a handkerchief to dry my eyes, and when I looked at it, I actually laughed with the tears still streaming. It had an embroidered likeness of Elmer Fudd on it. There were three in existence, as far as I knew. I'd done them when he was on call at the hospital, and I'd given them to him as a Halloween treat.
"God, I haven't seen this in a long time," I commented as I wiped my eyes.
"I found it in my drawer when I was packing up my things at Mom and Dad's. It looked handmade, so I was sure it meant something to me. I kept it. Where'd it come from?" he asked.
"After I met you, we had this little shtick. I'd greet you with a "What's up Doc?" and you'd respond with a "You waskaly wabbit." After that, you started calling me Bugsy, and I called you Elmer. I embroidered these when you were at the hospital, and I couldn't sleep. I gave them to you at Halloween," I explained, seeing how horrible they actually were. I was never good with needlework.
"Okay, is this real or a dream? I remember, or I think I do, one night I was at the hospital because I'd been in surgery for hours. I remember being so damn tired, but I stayed at the hospital in case there were complications. It was a holiday of some sort. You showed up with a bunch of food, and after I ate, we slept together in the on-call room. I remember pumpkin pie," he outlined.
My heart flew. It was amazing he was remembering things, and maybe there was hope. Maybe he wouldn't want me, but if he had his memories back, maybe he could be happy. That was all I wanted for him, after all.
"Our first Thanksgiving. I had to make the pies because your mom was still pissed we got married at the courthouse, so she gave me recipes and told me I had to make the pies. That video you gave the driver was from a few days before the holiday. I was trying to figure out how to do the pie crusts because I'd never made a pie in my life.
"Anyway, we were at your parents' house, and I was helping your mother and Katie cook while you guys…you, Jasper, Carlisle, and my dad, were in the living room watching football. Alice was watching us with a magazine at the counter, of course.
"You got called in for an emergency. There was a bad accident, and it was a fourteen-year-old boy from the reservation who had suffered a horrible chest injury. I think Jacob knows him. Anyway, you went to the hospital and took care of him, missing dinner. I made you a huge plate and brought it to you.
"You were in the lounge when I showed up. I heated your dinner, and we talked, and then you begged me to stay until you had to get up to check on your patient. I did. It wasn't the only time I brought you dinner to the hospital. It was, however, the first time you made love to me in the on-call room," I remembered. It was really fucking great because anyone could have walked in. He needed to let off steam, and I needed him. It was a memory I loved.
"How about…" he began as he asked about the snippets that had come to him over the months we'd been apart. I explained every one of them to the best of my ability, and after we'd exhausted his sparse memories, we actually decorated his tree.
He asked me about the ornaments, and I explained why we'd chosen them, and after the tinsel was strewn over the tree, it was time for me to go to my hotel.
Dad didn't know I was coming to town, nor did anyone other than Edward, so I booked a hotel. "Here," I commented as I pulled the papers from my bag and signed the appropriate black lines where my name was typed in Helvetica Bold beneath. After I finished, I handed them to him.
"I'm so happy for you. I'm happy you're finding your way back. The bitter man I tried to nurse back to health wasn't you. This is you…or very close to you. You're a wonderful man, Edward Cullen, and don't you ever let anyone tell you any differently," I instructed as I stood by the door and smiled up at him.
"How long are you in town?" he asked as he helped me on with my coat.
"Well, I'm here, so I might surprise my dad and Katie tomorrow. I'll probably leave on Thursday. I sort of left my boss in a lurch, so I need to get back because I've got a huge New Year's Eve party to organize at The Plaza. Thank you, Edward, for giving me this closure. You have no idea what that means to me," I confessed honestly.
"I'll get these filed with the court as soon as possible. Thank you for coming, Bella. It means a lot to me that you'd give me this, especially after all the hell I gave you. Yes, I remember every nasty word I said to you, and I know why you didn't tell me the truth, but I wish you had. I never understood why you'd take it. I tested you a lot of the time, you know. I honestly thought when you told me you'd lost a baby we made together the night you left, it was your way of trying to hurt me the way I'd hurt you. I guess, it's bittersweet to know it wasn't a lie," he enlightened.
"Just so you know I loved you too much to let you go through your recovery alone, regardless of how you treated me. Please, take care of yourself," I implored. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine reminding me of many kisses we'd shared.
I pulled back with tears in my eyes, but I had a smile on my face. He was well and appeared to be happy. That was all I ever wanted for him, so I let go. I climbed onto the elevator for the last time, and when I reached the lobby, I actually felt like maybe, just maybe, I could be whole again as well with time. Only time would tell the tale.
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So? Just so you understand…this isn't the end. I appreciate you taking the time to read my story, so thank you.
Till next time (Friday)…xoxo
