Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I just borrowed the names. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without written authorization. ©2010 SwedenSara. All rights reserved worldwide.
Thank you JillM12 and netracullen, my betas on this chapter!
Shabby T-shirts and Silky Dresses
x.x.x
EPOV
I'm standing in the kitchen, eyeing the family calendar Bella bought a few weeks ago after we decided I should help her more. She figured it would be easier for all of us to keep track of our family plans with it.
It would be easier for me to keep track. She keeps it all in her head. I tend to forget all the time.
We also use the calendar to write down the "who's doing what" on weekends, when it comes to the chores at the house. This is my shopping weekend, which means I have to make some sort of grocery list. I suck at that, I can't even think of what to eat for a week, let alone figure out what we need to buy. I turn to Bella to ask her, like I always do.
"Hey Bella, I don't know what to plan for dinners this week. Do you have any ideas?"
She is sitting in her robe by the table, reading the morning paper. She slowly sips her tea, smirks and raises an eyebrow at me.
Uh oh. Wrong thing to ask. I should have known.
"I have no idea, Edward. I think this is your grocery weekend, so you'll just have to figure it out." She turns to the newspaper again, and continues to read. I can see the corners of her mouth turn into a small smile.
Fuck, I'm stupid sometimes. This is exactly what she means by her "being in charge". I'm not supposed to ask her questions like this.
I open the freezer and rummage through the boxes, trying to get a grip on what's in there.
She knows what's in the freezer. She knows without even having to look.
I stare at the frozen minced meat, the chicken breasts and the pork chops. Okay… what can we do with this? My mind is blank, and I'm starting to feel embarrassed.
What kind of moron am I, if I can't even figure out what to eat?
"Ahem" I hear her clear her throat. "Edward, I have a list of different meals that are easy to make with the stuff we usually have at home. Maybe you want to check it out?"
Thank god. She decided to help me.
She hands me the list and I sit down by the table, going through the different suggestions. This is brilliant, how come I've never noticed she has this list?
Right. I never used to help her with this. I was usually watching TV while she made the grocery lists.
I feel stupid, but push it aside and go to work on my grocery mission. I need to recheck the freezer and the cupboards a few times, forgetting what was in them too quickly. After a while I have a list with meals, and I know what we need to buy at the store. It's oddly satisfying, knowing I can do this.
"Okay, I'm ready." I announce. "Do you want to check it before I leave?"
"Sure," she says, taking the list from my hands. She reads it quietly. "You need to add soap, shampoo and detergent; we're almost out of that. And toilet paper, because we'll be out of that too in a few days."
Oh. I never even thought about those things. How does she know we're almost out of those?
I'm actually slightly impressed. How much does she keep in that head of hers?
I guess she has to know, since I'm not that helpful in this household. And this is why I need to help her out more.
I dress the kids, put them in the car, and go to the store. When we get home Bella will probably be finished cleaning the house. Maybe we can have a coffee outside, on the terrace. The sun is shining, the air is getting warm, and the kids probably want to be outside in the afternoon.
I'm helping her. This will be a good day.
x.x.x
BPOV
I listen to the car leaving the driveway. It is nice to be home alone, so quiet and peaceful. I pour another cup of tea, adding some honey and stirring slowly with the tea spoon. They'll be gone for a couple of hours, so I have plenty of time to clean the house. I open the door to the terrace and let the fresh air inside. It is still chilly, but the sun is shining and the air will soon be warm enough for me to sit outside in only a T-shirt. Maybe we'll even have a coffee outside later, Edward and I. It would be nice just to sit next to each other for a while.
I finish my tea and walk to the bedroom, changing from my robe to clothes more appropriate for cleaning. I go with a shabby, old T-shirt, a hoodie, and my baggy jeans. These are clothes for boring house work. I look at myself in the mirror, liking what I see. I look totally androgynous and asexual.
Good. There is not a chance in hell he'll find me attractive in this.
I realize I cheat by doing this. I'm supposed to try being more affectionate towards Edward, but it is so hard. I've discovered I react differently depending on the way he looks at me when he touches me. A friendly pat on the shoulder is fine, as is a light, chaste touch on the cheek. A small peck is still too much, because I see the way he looks at me. There are hidden wants and desires even in that small gesture, and I can't handle that. I try to look as ordinary as possible, to keep him from watching me with lust in his eyes. I'll have to dress up later anyway, since I have to go to a party this evening, and I already worry about that. Those green, wanting eyes will watch me later anyway. No need to make them do it earlier than that.
I pick up the toys and clothes that are thrown at the floor, bring out the vacuum cleaner, and go to work. I don't mind doing this, really. I like that I see a quick result, my efforts are instantly paying off and the change is visible to the eye. There are other changes I need to make, inside of myself. They are a lot harder, and none of them are visible in that obvious way.
I like easy and obvious. Hard and invisible changes suck.
I get interrupted by the phone, and as I answer I'm hoping it's not Edward calling to ask which kind of milk to buy or what soap to choose. I really hope he can make those decisions on his own.
"Hey Bella!" I hear my mom's voice, and I smile.
"Hi mom! What's up?" She's in the car, and I hear my dad mumbling in the background.
"Well, Charlie wants to watch the game tonight with Edward, so we figured you could bring the kids and come as well!" My mom sounds excited at the prospect of spending some time with her grandchildren.
"I guess Edward can come, and the kids, but I'm going out tonight." I explain to her.
"Nice, have fun! Charlie's planning a small barbeque and you know how these guys love that."
"Yeah, I'll tell him that. Bye mom!" I hear dad shout his goodbyes from a far, and I hang up.
Sheesh, my parents spend more time with Edward than they do with me.
I know I should be happy that my parents get along so well with my husband, and in a way I am. But there are so many things that I used to do with them, that Edward now does instead. We played golf together, but since the kids were born it's mostly he who plays with them. I stay at home with the kids. I used to go with my parents to watch the local hockey team play. Edward does that now, and I stay at home with the kids. Neither golf nor hockey is that important to me, Edward enjoys it much more than I do. But spending time with my parents is important, and I kind of feel as if I've lost them to Edward. That makes me sad. I sigh, and finish my cleaning.
This is why divorce is not a good idea. My parents would be devastated. They'd probably keep hanging out with him instead of me, and I'd be even lonelier.
Edward and the kids come home just when the coffee is ready, and I tell him about my parents' invitation. We put the groceries where they belong and go sit outside, drinking coffee and eating a small piece of dark chocolate. The kids play in the back yard, kicking a ball. Benji falls on his butt every time his feet miss the ball, and we laugh at him. The air is warm, but I keep my hoodie on because it feels safe. Edward takes my hand, which is okay, nice even. He's watching the kids, so if there is a hint of desire in his eyes I don't see it. But I'm guessing there isn't, considering my choice of clothes.
x.x.x
The sun is slowly passing over the sky, and it's time for me to hit the shower and get ready for the party. Edward cleans up the kids as I blow-dry my hair and put some make up on.
"Mommy, can I have some lip gloss?" Kate is standing next to me in the bathroom, looking at me with begging eyes.
"No, not now honey. I'm in a hurry; I have a bus to catch." I go over my face with a light touch of powder and add some mascara to my lashes.
This will have to do. It's no big deal anyway, just the annual company party. It's not like my colleagues will notice, anyway.
I look at myself in the mirror, stroking my hands along my sides, smoothing my dress. I've chosen a purple, silky dress with small ivory coloured flowers. If the pattern were larger it would look like grandma's old curtains, but this way it just adds a lighter shade to the dress. The silky fabric clings to my body, showing off my curves and ending a few inches above my knees. Not that I have much curves nowadays, but the bra at least gives an illusion of it. My slim legs are covered with black satin stockings, and on my feet I have my black strap heels. I feel almost good about myself.
I walk into the bedroom, looking for my black purse and a jacket. Edward suddenly appears in the door, watching me as I rummage through my closet.
"Why don't you take the ivory jacket? It'll go nicely with the flowers on the dress." He says quietly.
"Right… I'll go with that. I don't have the time to look for something else anyway." I quickly brush past him, looking for my keys, cell and wallet.
"Don't wait up for me; I don't know how late I'll be. And I really have to go now, or I'll miss the bus." I tell him hurriedly.
"Bella, relax. I can give you a ride if you want, you don't have to take the bus. Since we're going to your parents it won't be much of a detour to drop you off."
I ponder his offer for a few seconds. That's actually nice of him, I hate running to the bus in high heels. Not that I do that very often, anyway. I don't even remember going out since the kids were born. The company I work for always throws a party this time of year, but I never attended it before tonight. I am excited and scared, because I've forgotten how to socialize with people I don't already know. I used to be an expert in talking casually to strangers and flirting with men. I don't know how to do that now. But then again, who would be interested in talking to me anyway, much less flirting?
I decide to accept his offer, and turn to Edward. He is watching me with a strange look on his face. His eyes rise to mine and I see the desire that burns in them.
Oh no, I can't take this now. Please, don't look at me that way.
I feel uncomfortable, and put my arms around my body as to cover myself. His eyes roam my small frame, making me feel naked. I can see he's appreciative, I know he wants me, and I know I won't be able to give myself to him like that. I've given him my promise that I would try, but I can't, and the guilt consumes me. I don't know how to deal with these feelings, so I chose anger instead. I always do, and I hate myself for it.
"What? Quit staring at me!" I sneer at him.
I hate myself.
His eyes quickly fall to the ground and he mumbles his apologies. As I walk to the kitchen "for a glass of water" which is really only a way to get away from him, I hear him add, quietly:
"I think you're beautiful. Is that not allowed anymore?"
I pretend not to hear that last comment, drink my water and get in the car. As he puts the kids in their seats I lean forward, resting my head against the dashboard.
This is not a great beginning to a night out.
The fifteen minute ride into town is quiet. He drops me off, asking me to be careful. I shrug at him, not knowing how to answer his plea, and kiss the kids goodbye. I don't turn around as I walk towards the bar.
x.x.x
The place is crowded with people. Some of them I know well, some I'm acquainted with, but most of them I've never met before in my life. I know we work for the same company, but to be honest that doesn't make me feel more comfortable. I never used to be like this, the bars were like my backyard when I was younger. Now I just feel out of place.
I walk up to the bar, deciding that a drink might cure my insecurities. As I stand there, waiting for the bartender to acknowledge me, I suddenly feel someone standing close behind me. I feel fingers stroking my neck gently, moving slowly up to the nape, curling into my hair. I close my eyes at the sensation, and smile.
I know this touch. It is embedded in my skin, my nerves and the marrow of my bone. Only one person has ever touched me like this.
I let the fingers explore my neck, leaning my head forward to give him better access. The neck is my most sensitive area, this was common knowledge once. Many men have tried, including Edward, but only this man can touch me there and make me feel this way. My constantly working brain is shutting down, section by section. The sensations in my body are being redirected to my neck, leaving the rest of my skin numb and oblivious to any other touches. My legs are starting to feel weak, like my bones are turning into jelly.
Jake. Oh god, how I've missed him.
Slowly I turn around, facing the person standing so close he's almost pressed into me. I let my eyes fall on his dark hair, his broad shoulders, and his smooth skin that reminds me of milk chocolate. I lean against him, saying nothing, letting his scent filling my nostrils and feeling his strong arms embrace me. I feel safe, and my eyes fill with tears. I'm sad and delighted at the same time.
"Well hello there, gorgeous. Do you come here often?" He teases me, smiling. I look at him, not able to speak. My heart aches and I've missed him so much. I need him, my Jake, my confidante, my soul mate.
"Hey Bells, are you alright?" I hear the concern in his voice. I shake my head, smile at him, and answer the only way I can.
"I am now, darling."
I throw my arms around him, feeling his hands stroking my back as he buries his nose into my hair. I haven't seen him in so many years, but my body still knows him so well. I can feel it relax instantly, wherever he puts his hands there is a peace I've not felt for a long time.
"I've missed you so much!" I sigh into his chest.
