CHAPTER 7: PLOTTING MURDER
EDWARD POV:
I entered Health reluctantly. I had witnessed Bella's fury on numerous occasions, and I knew today it could only be worse than usual. She had been sulking the whole day, and I'm sure her emotions would get the best of her, and she would explode eventually. And, I predicted, I would be the target for her inexcusable rage.
It wasn't exactly inexcusable, I contradicted myself. In fact, I had antagonized her most of my life, and I should have received ten times the little tantrums she threw. She was sort of like a kitten—she thought she was dangerous and intimidating, but she just managed to look more adorable than she already was. Her little episodes just amused me, but I could see how they took a toll on her.
I knew I wasn't completely blameless in the situation, though. I was probably guiltier by goading her on. I didn't wake up in the morning and debate possible ways to torment her; words just flew out of my mouth before I could hold them in. I had to be very careful about what I said around the irascible girl, because she had a short fuse. I deserved what cute wrath she sent my way. Some days, I could even make her smile. But, those were usually the days she had been in a good mood prior.
And, I did not hate her at all. On the contrary, I found her to be so fascinating, like a puzzle waiting to be solved, piece-by-piece. Every little movement, be the way her eyes flashed or her lips twitching, made me wonder. Series of questions would roam through my mind, and I did my best to inquire without being too obvious. She usually refused admittance into her brain, so I would prod impolitely, and if she snapped I would know I hit a nerve. Which, most likely, confirmed I was accurate in my assumptions.
She was doodling in her notebook, but I could see from the taut way her fingers curved around the pen she was not happy. I decided instantly to not converse with her until it would be absolutely necessary. I understood her pain. After the way I had treated her, I would want to work with me either.
I loathed how I we had grown so distant through the years. Why couldn't our friendship be as simple and easy like when we were younger? Everything had been so effortless and natural. Like it was supposed to be. I hated whenever I attempted to be cordial to her, she presumed I either wanted something or I was going to insult her. Why was she so suspicious? I did want something, though. I wanted our once strong camaraderie. I wanted that feeling of the support of a best friend. She wouldn't believe anything if I ever told her.
I stole a quick glance at her, trying to notice anything different. Her hair fell down her graceful neck, causing a contrast between the brown and translucent skin. Her deep, doe-like brown eyes were completely focused on her drawing, which looked to be a vines growing from one corner of her notebook to the other. Interesting is the best word to describe Bella Swan.
She looked more delicate than usual, like the littlest touch could break her in two. I don't know how she possibly survived with her tendency to trip at a moment's notice. I knew she visited the hospital frequently, and I winced thinking about her with busted bones. She was like a magnificent porcelain doll, ready to fall or crack at any little nudge. I could only hope I was there to catch her before she was permanently broken.
BELLA POV:
I pulled up to Aunt Esme's house, planning to ask her for some old baby supplies for Anthony. She would be thrilled as soon as she saw me taking this seriously. I still hadn't informed her who my husband was. I knew she kept all of Emmett's old things stuffed in a trunk upstairs with loads of old home videos. She spent most of our childhood stalking close behind with a camera. She truly cared for Emmett, and she wanted to document all of his experiences through life. I even remembered once a few months ago, I caught her hiding stealthily behind a bush while taping Emmett teaching me self-defense. I had begged her to burn the video, which exposed my clumsy nature at its worst, but she refused. I had only thought of the terrible embarrassment I would face if it resurfaced.
I picked Anthony up carefully to not jostle him. I didn't need a baby freak-out when I entered Aunt Esme's house. Anthony didn't make any noise, and I sighed in relief, relaxing my tense posture. I positioned Anthony into a more comfortable and natural looking embrace. This mothering stuff wasn't too difficult. If only the father would cooperate!
"Hello, Bella!" Esme called from the kitchen. How she had known it was me, I would never know. I pulled Anthony a little tighter to me and strolled through the large mansion. Emmett must be at Rosalie's house, because it was eerily silent. I had never noticed how still the place seemed without his booming presence.
When Esme spotted Anthony, her eyes lightened, and she skipped across the kitchen to see my baby. Esme adored babies, and she had on numerous occasions complimented women with little toddlers at the store. She asked if I was baby-sitting. "Uh, not exactly," I answered unsurely. She was close enough to see the baby, and she began smiling.
"I'm assuming this is for school?" she questioned, and I nodded, explaining the project to her, leaving out one crucial part. When I was finished, she was as excited as I expected her to.
"It's great that you're taking this on seriously! Motherhood is one of the best parts of being a woman. And, I have kept the majority of Emmett's old baby clothes. That kid went through clothes faster than any other child I had ever seen." I thanked her as we headed to the attic. The box was dusty—which was a first, I had never noticed dust in Esme's house—and on the side it was written the size and year. She picked out a nice blue one-piece that was absolutely adorable.
We rummaged through the clothes for about thirty minutes, picking and choosing our favorites. Esme had impeccable taste in children's clothing, so there wasn't much I denied. I especially enjoyed the sailor outfit which I would have to use for our special family vacation. Esme and I laughed as I reminisced about the good ole days when Emmett and I were young. "I can't believe he ever fit in this!" I said incredulously, holding a cute red t-shirt.
She sighed as she held the fabric. "I remember this was one of his favorites. He wore it for a week straight." She chuckled, placing it back in the box. It was interesting how something as insignificant as clothing could bring back memories of childhood.
We somehow managed to move on from clothes to a massive box full of home videos, courtesy of Esme. She had organized them into years and labeled them carefully and exactly. We were reading the labels, and I found one I immediately through to the ground.
"This one needs to die," I announced. She picked it up curiously and began to laugh at its title. It read, Bella's First Bra. It had even been dated! I remembered this day, where I pleaded for her not to tape me, but she insisted someday this would be useful. I couldn't think of any use for it then, and I still couldn't find any use for it now. Except for blackmail.
"I thought it was rather cute," she replied, placing it back into its place. I stared in disbelief, before shaking my head. Esme was such a pack-rat.
"So," she started, "you never told me who your partner was." I could feel her eyes on me as I held Emmett and Jasper's First Baseball Game. My eyes tightened, and I tried to not blush. Of course she would wonder who my baby's daddy was.
"I didn't?" I asked, avoiding the question.
"Hmm. You're hesitant; it must not be good," she observed, and I glared hopelessly at the tape. Why did she have to be so perceptive? I sighed heavily and answered her question with a mumble.
"Edward Masen." I was surprised she heard it, but to my surprise she started laughing. My face felt warm. Esme, the most gentle, sympathetic, caring person I knew, famous for her insightfulness, was laughing at my misfortune! I opened my mouth to reprimand her for insensitivity, when she spoke above me.
"Oh, honey, I understand your grief. I'm so sorry; I shouldn't have laughed. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. But, what is the luck that you will be partners with the one person you despise?" she smiled to herself, and I frowned. At least she apologized, though. She hadn't been oblivious to the ill feelings that transpired between us constantly.
"Luck was not involved whatsoever. Nurse Hasting hates me and wants to watch me suffer," I said melodramatically. Esme stared at me with raised eyebrows. She didn't believe me. "I'm serious!" I insisted.
"Bella," Esme said in her stern voice that she used before a lecture. I prepared my best listening face. "I think you should give Edward a chance. He's not as horrible as you think he is. I don't think he'll give you too much trouble."
I just nodded somberly, but inwardly I was automatically disagreeing with her. Edward didn't want to fail the project, so he wouldn't screw it up. But, I knew he wouldn't make this smooth or easy. I would have to do my best to frown and bear it. Just then, Esme found a stroller.
After gathering all of our things, Esme placed them in a rather large bag and set in by the door. I decided to stay and visit for a while, helping her with dinner. Uncle Carlisle called to inform Esme he would be running late. There was some kind of emergency at the hospital. Which reminded me, I needed to order pizza for Charlie. I borrowed Esme's phone and called the pizza place. Esme and I had just finished when Emmett walked through the door, with mussed hair and slightly swollen lips. Gross.
"Have you come to join us?" Esme asked, slight petulance in her voice. She was trying to hide the fact that tardiness bothered her.
"Sorry, I'm late," he apologized, kissing her cheek before sitting down at the table. It was such a sweet gesture, I held back my urge to coo. Emmett was a huge softy, despite his size. And Esme could really strike fear in him if she attempted to. I knew he hated hurting her feelings.
"It's fine, honey," she forgave. I took a large bite of my biscuit, and a crumb fell on the floor. I knew Esme hated any kind of mess, so I bent down to pick up the little mess. As I came up, I felt something hard hit the top of my head. I reached up instinctively to rub my sore spot. Great. I hit my head on the table. Esme was by my side in a second, inquiring if I was alright. My head was throbbing, and I applied a little pressure to the sore spot and flinched. Ouch, I would definitely have a bruise. It was very tender, and Emmett handed me an ice pack. Inanimate objects were my worst enemy, next to Edward.
"I'm okay, I swear. It just hurts a little. I've had worse," I swore. Emmett and Esme overreacted to any kind of collision I had. It wasn't like I was some delicate piece of glass. I had grown used to pain, and every time I fell, they expected me to just faint on the floor.
Esme didn't look convinced, but Emmett realized I was perfectly in good health, so he decided to make jokes. "For Christmas, I am so getting you a straight jacket, so you can't hurt yourself anymore." He started guffawing at my infuriated expression, as I stood slowly. Esme held her hands out, expecting me to wobble, but I stood easily.
"Thanks, Emmett. And, I'll be sure to buy you diarrhea medicine," I snapped back. Yes, Emmett brought out my immature side. His laughing stopped immediately, and he shook his head.
"Low blow, cousin," he said in a mock hurt voice. I giggled; Emmett knew the way to cheer anyone up. We ate our dinner, teasing each other with Esme scolding us in good nature, and I left with Anthony. Emmett had to help me carry the bag full of clothes, since it was too heavy.
Charlie was already in the living room, looking full with his hand on his stomach, when we entered. He and Emmett discussed the current game before Emmett left, and Charlie informed me of the slice he left for me if I hadn't eaten yet. I put it in the fridge to keep cold, so I would be able to eat it tomorrow. Charlie seemed amused as I put Anthony in his little carrier. He thought I was taking this a little too seriously.
Once I was in my room with Anthony situated in my arms with a blanket surrounding him, he started wailing. His cries were the most horrible thing I had ever heard. They were loud, screeching, and I just wanted to throw him out the window. I froze in panic before remembering my bracelet, and I picked the key up for food. Was he hungry? I stuck it in his back, but he didn't stop crying. I ripped it out and then put the changing key in him. After about two minutes, he cooed, and I slowly took the key out. I dug my baby journal out of my backpack and dated his first fit ever. Normally, this would be a monumental moment for most couples. They would cry and put it in his baby's book. Not so much for me. It was just one of many times I would have to resist the urge to duct tape Anthony to the ceiling.
His fits were random. They varied from two hours (if I was lucky) to two minutes. Charlie was in the middle of an intense game, which I was watching with him for once, when the baby went psycho. It was the third time that game, and I saw Charlie's hand twitch towards his gun. He wasn't the only one getting ready to use violence.
I discovered a sort of pattern with Anthony. If he had just eaten, then he usually needed to be burped followed soon by changing. And, if I dropped him, he would go berserk. I had to put the neglect key in. Fortunately, I had discovered that earlier on, so I was extra careful the whole time, placing him into the stroller with extreme care.
Charlie's expression became more annoyed as the night wore on. Each time Anthony would wail, I would apologize profusely to Charlie who grumbled incoherently in return.
"I swear, Bells, you were not nearly this bad. Emmett, though, that boy has a pair of lungs on him," he observed as Anthony had his usual little fit. I glanced over at my baby journal, and I realized that he had already had eight fits tonight.
I got him ready for bed, setting him into his carrier, noticing how peaceful he looked. For a second, I found myself wishing for a kid. I mean, most of them cried all the time and you couldn't shut up real kids with keys, but it was the moments like this that were the most rewarding. Ugh, what was I saying? Anthony is a plastic doll that screams constantly! I was starting to turn into Nurse Hasting.
Once in bed, I fell asleep immediately. Anthony sure exhausted me.
I awoke to the sound of the horrible screeching coming from the side of my bed.
Dammit.
I scrambled out of bed, falling on the floor with a loud thump. I searched through my bracelet and found the changing key, which should turn him off. It didn't . Could he be hungry in the middle of the night? What was I thinking? These babies had no sense of time, so I crammed it in there, trying to shut him up. Never mind about the whole wanting kids thing; it no longer applied. Finally, he was silent but I could hear Charlie's footsteps climbing up the stairs. I looked at my clock and gasped.
It was 3:00! I must have wakened Charlie. He opened my door and glowered at the baby in my arms. I didn't blame him. Could I use Charlie as an excuse? Instead of my dog ate my homework, I could say my dad shot my homework. Would Nurse Hasting fall for that? Probably not.
"Need any help?" he asked. The way he said it, he could have been asking to be my assassin in Anthony's murder.
"Uh, no. I think I'm going to go give him to his dad tonight. I have a quiz tomorrow, and I need sleep," I replied, coming up with the plan as I spoke. Edward only lived next door, so it wouldn't be too much of a hassle to drop him off. And, after Edward's whole tantrum about being a part of Anthony's life, he couldn't argue with me. After I recorded Anthony's fit, I walked over to Edward's house.
I rang the doorbell, than regretted it. I didn't want to wake his parents. Just because I had a beef with Edward, didn't mean I didn't like his parents. In fact, Liz was good friends with Renée before she left. Liz still chatted with me every time I saw her. She was extremely friendly.
Edward answered the door. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was glaring at me intensely. I was too sleepy to flinch away from his eyes. I just stood with the stroller beside me, doing my best not to topple over in slumber. It wouldn't look good if I just fainted on Edward's porch.
"Sorry if I woke your parents," I muttered.
"You didn't. They're on an exclusive business trip with no intention of inviting their only son," he said, sounding bitter towards the end. Did he not like being left alone? I could count on one hand how many times I had felt bad for Edward, and this was one of those times. I apologized again, and he brushed it off. "So, is there something you need?" He eyed Anthony, as if expecting him to explode any second.
"Yeah. Could you possibly take care of Anthony for the rest of tonight? I have a quiz in the morning, and I desperately need my rest," I answered, slurring my words towards the end. I squared my shoulders in an attempt to stay awake and conscious. He saw through my half-truth.
"Did you get kicked out?" he said, rather amused. His light mood irked me, and I was already tired, so I didn't hold back on my grouching.
"No! I kicked myself out; I felt bad for Charlie. Now, take your son," I said, thrusting the stroller in his direction. Edward backed away, holding his hands up, palms facing me. Did he seriously just deny responsibility for his child?
"So now he's my son?" he asked in disbelief. I grunted, exasperated. My son, your son—did it really matter? Obviously, it did to him. I just placed Anthony back in the stroller. I had been too tired and unaware to start a fight earlier, but now I felt one building inside me.
"You said that you wanted to be an active participant in your son's life, and I granted you that. You should be thanking me graciously for my generosity," I pointed out, over exaggerating towards the end. He raised his eyebrows at me.
"Nurse Hasting enforced that upon you. It's not like you actually had a choice," he retorted. I glared viciously into his eyes. I noticed his purple bags under his eyes. Good, he was missing sleep, too. He deserved it by how immature he was acting.
"Is that relevant?" I shot back, knowing that it probably was, but I didn't need logic on my side. I was exhausted and about to just lie down on this street. I swayed slightly, and Edward reached up to steady me. In the process, he knocked the stroller, causing it to fly down the steep hill.
"ANTHONY!" we yelled in unison, as the stroller rolled Anthony to his soon-to-be demise.
So, totally boring in the beginning, I know. But, at least it picked up speed towards the end. Sorry it was short, and I had to leave you with that cliff hanger, though! I only do it because I want you to beg me for a quick update! And the only way to do that it through a review... so this leads to me saying in all caps REVIEW! I feel so awesome when you guys do! All warm and fuzzy! Also, shout out to Vassillia who shares the same birthday as me! And, of course TheMagicalMuffin who always gives me smiles with her wonderful stories! By the way, before typing this chapter I was jamming out to One of the Boys by Katy Perry! Loooove her!!
