Ten Feet Off the Ground, Chapter 7.
May 21, 1918.
I sat on the bench by Edward as he softly played me a melody. I always loved when he played for me. He was a pro, his hands glided over the keys, always emitting a heartwarming sound that ran through my body, always calming me. I sighed and leaned against him when he finished.
"Thank you, Edward. That was beautiful." He smiled and lifted my chin so our lips could meet.
Edward has been trying to relieve my stress for weeks. He would do anything to get my mind off of my sick mother, but it usually doesn't last very long.
"Bella, can I ask you something?" Edward murmured, his chin on my head. I smiled and played with his fingers.
"Anything," I told him.
"You know I love you, and I told you I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, right?" I nodded slowly, not sure where he was going with this. "Well, I also want a family."
I looked up at him and gasped, a smile forming on my lips. "Really?" I asked. He smiled and nodded. "You want a baby?"
"I'd love to have a baby," he told me, sweeping a piece of hair from my face. I hugged him and kissed his lips again.
He pulled me onto his lap and continued to kiss me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and threw myself into the kiss. His hands grabbed my waist and pulled me closer to him. My hands found their way to the first button of his shirt, as I started to undo the button, but there was a light knock on the door. Edward sighed, and I got off of his lap, fixing his hair. I smiled.
"I'll get it," I told him, kissing him one more time before going to answer the door. It was Edward's father, his face, remorse.
"Dad?" Edward asked, coming up from behind me. "What's wrong?"
He looked at me. "It's your mother, Bella," he told me. "We done all we could, but the Spanish Flu…it's un-curable." I froze.
"What?" I asked him, shaking my head. "I…I don't understand."
"Bella, she died an hour ago. She's gone." I just stood there, my eyes wide, and my mouth hanging open. My breathing stuttered, and I would've hit the ground if Edward didn't catch me.
"Bella!" Edward said, alarmed. "Bella!" I started to sob.
"She's gone!" I cried. Why her? Why now? "Please"! I cried, not really sure what I was begging for. "No!"
Edward hugged me closely, rubbing my back. I cried harder. "Why did this happen to her?"
"I'm sorry," Edward said. "I'm really sorry."
"I'm sorry as well," his father said. "I promise you, we've tried. But nobody has survived it. It's only getting worse."
"I know you tried," I told him. And then it hit me. "How's Dad? Where is he?"
"The bakery," he said. "He's….he's selling it." I gasped.
"No! Why!"
"He lost a lot of money trying to help your mother." I shook my head.
"No," I said between my teeth. "He can't…he can't do that!"
"There's no other way to keep the shop up and running," he said.
I bit my lip. "How's Elizabeth?"
He sighed. "She's…coping. They were best friends." My tears haven't stopped; I just wasn't sobbing. I turned to Edward.
"I have to go see dad," I told him.
"I'm coming with you," he said.
"I'll drive you." I turned back to Edward's father and nodded. Edward grabbed my coat and helped me put it on before he put on his own coat. He took my hand and we went to his father's car.
I cried, leaning on Edward's shoulder the whole way to the bakery.
.
"Dad!" I said, bursting through the doors. Edward and Dr. Masen followed me from behind.
My father was stacking boxes by the counter, the rims of his eyes red. Once he saw me, he stood up and came to hug me. I cried on his shoulder. "I'm sorry Dad."
"She knew she wasn't going to make it," he whispered. "She knew, but she didn't want to tell you. She told me not to tell you." his voice was hoarse, like a rough whisper. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry." I hugged him tighter.
"You can't give up this place," I told him. "This place is our life."
"It won't be the same without your mother," he told me. "I can't…I can't do this anymore. Not without her."
"Let me do it," I told him, my voice breaking. "I'll keep it. Please." He stared at me for a moment.
"I'll help her," Edward told me, taking my hand. Dad looked at him.
"Fine," he told me. He took a deep breath, rubbing his face with his hands. "I have funeral arrangements to make."
~TFOTG~
I watched as they lowered my mother into the ground. I was frozen; I couldn't cry, I couldn't move. I didn't feel. Edward anxiously kept an eye on me, obviously worrying about me. He squeezed my hand a few times, I think, but I didn't respond. After the ceremony, I stood by her grave, touching the smooth marble with my hands.
It was still a shock to me that she was gone. The morgue was so full these days because of this damned disease. I stood a shaky breath.
"Are you going to be okay?" Edward asked me after a while.
I took a deep breath and turned to face him. "I don't know," I answered honestly. "I'm still in shock." Edward hugged me.
"I'm so sorry," he murmured, kissing my cheek. "What can I do?" I shook my head.
"Nothing," I told him.
People stopped by and visited me all day. It was a nice gesture and all, but I wanted to be alone. Edward started to sense that after a while.
I was lying in bed that evening, curled up on my side, when I started to hear a beautiful melody downstairs. I sniffed and smiled through my tears when I realized it was a piano. I sat up and quietly headed downstairs to find Edward playing my lullaby. I smiled and sat beside him.
"I couldn't just…sit there and watch you cry. I wanted to do something, I just didn't know what," he told me when he finished.
I smiled. "You've done everything for me, Edward. I love you." He smiled and kissed me.
"Hungry?" I asked him standing up.
"I can cook," he told me. I shook my head.
"Nope, I got this." He chuckled.
"So stubborn," he said, smirking. I smiled again.
"You always make me feel better," I said, running my fingers through his hair.
Aww! Poor them! Well, you know what to do…
Review! Hey, that rhymed! J
