Chapter VIII: A Piece of Humble Pie
In the morning I am woken by a streak of sunlight hitting my face and I jump out of bed in a panic. I haven't heard my alarm, and I think I forgot to turn my phone back on last night, after putting it on charge.
I grab my phone and see that the screen is black. I hit the power button and then run downstairs to check the time on the clock on the wall in the kitchen. I sigh in relief when I see it's only ten past eight. It only gives me twenty minutes to get ready, but at least I'm not late.
I race back upstairs and shower quickly, before throwing on my work pants and a nice top. I grab my bag, phone and keys and head out to my car.
Despite getting stuck behind a logging truck for half the way into work, I manage to get in there on time and listen to the store's voicemail while I set about opening the shop. There's only one message from one of our suppliers, apologising for one of our usual products not being available and that they've put it on back-order.
Apart from an elderly gentleman buying a pre-made bouquet for his wife's birthday, the first two hours are dead quiet. I feel thankful I'm finishing at lunch time today. I try to keep busy by looking over the coming week's orders and seeing if there's anything I need to order in specifically, but that comes to a dead end.
I hear footsteps at the front of the shop and look up, ready to pounce on the first customer I've had in what feels like forever, but it's not a customer.
"Dad!" Dad is in his police uniform, holding a tray with two coffees and another wrapped in bakery paper.
"Hey," he greets, taking in all the buckets of blooms and foliage around him. He stops for a moment and admires a bucket of freesias, mom's favourite.
I move out from behind the counter and motion to the trays in his hand before taking the coffee one from him. "What are you doing here? Slow day for you, too?"
He smiles at me and sighs. "Wish I could say it was. I've just finished."
I motion for him to sit with me at the small table we have in the corner, where we usually sit with clients to discuss large orders. I move the photo books off it and sit the tray down.
Dad takes a seat and grabs one of the coffee cups, before opening the bakery bag. "Bought you some apple pie."
He reveals two generous sizes of apple pie. I probably won't be able to finish mine, but you bet I'll give it my best shot. I excitedly head to the back office and grab two clean utensils. When I come back out to hand one to dad, he looks deep in thought.
"Everything alright?" I ask, concerned.
He seems to snap out of his thoughts and he grimaces at me before taking a sip of his coffee.
"There was an animal attack this morning. Got two trekkers on their way to Seattle. I don't think one of them is gonna make it."
"Oh, wow. Sorry, Dad." I always wondered how emergency services did their job. I could never do what my dad does. He sees people at the absolute worst.
"Hmmm," he mumbles. "Things have changed without Doctor Cullen here."
"Haven't they filled his position yet?"
"They got a doctor in … Doctor Felix I think his name is. But he ain't got that specialised training that Doctor Cullen had. Or the same bedside manner, either."
I nod in understanding. I remember ending up in the emergency room when I was clipped by a car in the school parking lot. Edward had actually been the first one to run to my aid, but then he went straight back to not talking to me again the day after. Doctor Cullen had been amazing, making sure my stubborn ass stayed in hospital until the threat of complications of concussion had passed. With the help of Jacob, I might add.
"Speaking of Cullens, was that Edward Cullen that dropped you off last night?"
I nearly spit out the coffee that has only made it half way down the hatch.
"Mmhmm," I mumble, with a nod. "Angela wanted to stay, so he offered to drive me home."
"That's nice of him," he says, after some consideration.
I shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. "I guess."
"He's a good boy, that Edward."
If only you knew, Dad. I want to say, but I don't. "Yeah?" I ask instead. Feeling that familiar heat inside me at the mention of his name. It blends with years of hatred and my body flushes with the mix of emotions.
"Well, he always looked out for you … well, for a while, before Jacob came along. How is Jacob? Have you heard from him?" He adds.
My mind is a spinning top. I don't understand what dad is saying. Edward never looked out for me. In fact, he couldn't have been a bigger asshole if he tried. "Yes. Jacob's fine – Dad, what do you mean Edward looked out for me?" I can feel it coming, but I can't stop myself. Hatred wins. I purge everything. "He ditched me when mom died. And he did it by text message!" I yell. "Then he moved on with Jessica, my so-called best friend, and did everything possible to hurt me!" Realising that I have moved to the edge of my seat in my sudden fury, I take a deep breath and shuffle back into it.
Dad considers me for a moment, his brows furrowed in confusion. "I didn't know all that."
Seeing that I have changed his mind about Edward, I relax and take another sip of my drink.
Dad continues watching me with consternation. "Do you remember your bad days, Iz? Those really bad days, when I couldn't even get you to go to school? Before we finally started counselling?"
How could anyone forget that kind of agony, of course I remember! I want to scream out. But the memories make my throat dry. So, I nod instead.
"Edward used to ring our house nearly every day. He'd always ask me how you were and when you'd be back at school. He was afraid for you. Hell, we both were! Now, I'm not saying he didn't do all those things to you, but he certainly didn't come across to me as someone who doesn't care about you."
For some reason, it's harder to breathe than it normally is. I take a raspy breath in and look round quickly, before looking back at Dad. "Why didn't I know this? Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" I ask, accusingly.
"Because I'm telling you now," he states with a slight shrug. "Maybe the question you should be asking is, why didn't he tell you? Do you think, that perhaps," he puts a hand out in a 'please remain calm' manner, "perhaps he felt like he couldn't tell you?"
I feel a sudden rush of frustration.
"Dad! …" I peter off, not knowing what to say.
He leans forward on the table and holds my gaze; his solemn eyes look deep into mine, demanding my full attention.
"No one could get through to you back then, Izzy. Not even your dear old dad. You had this … giant wall around you. You were so adamant that no one could understand what you were going through. That no one had felt the pain that you were feeling. For months you refused grief counselling. You lashed out at everyone around you. You weren't … you." Dad has tears in his eyes at the memory and I feel my insides twist.
I'm dumfounded. I knew they were dark days, but he paints a different picture to what I remember.
"And then Jacob came along," Dad fills the silence and smiles. His eyes no longer welling with tears. "I don't know what it was about him, but he brought you back to life. I suppose he is a bit of a character," he chuckles, and then finishes off his coffee.
"Boy is he ever!" I agree with a smile. I think about him for a moment and remember that I must check my phone later to see if he called.
"Well, anyway, I came in to tell you, Sue and I are heading out tonight, so you'll have to fix yourself up something for dinner," he says breezily, as if we didn't just share a serious moment together. Typical dad.
I nod with a smile and finish my drink. "Date night, eh?"
"Yeah," he sighs heavily. "Got to keep her interested in this old fool somehow," he jokes.
"Naw, you're a catch, dad."
"Ha!" he laughs as he gets up from his seat and pushes it in. "There's curry leftovers in the fridge if you want it." He leans over to grab his piece of pie, and I look down to realise we've both only had one bite.
I put mine back in its bag, telling him I'll save it for dessert. He gives me a quick hug goodbye, and then leaves me with an overwhelming amount of thoughts and emotions.
