A/N:
Thank you from the deepest depths of my twisted mind to my wonderful beta, dellaterra.
Any remaining typo, grammatical or other errors belong to me.
I do not own Twilight.
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Chapter 9: PickMeUpandLayMeDown
BELLA
December will be tough. Our opening night is scheduled for the 29th. Already, everyone is working through their exhaustion, and things go wrong every day.
Parts of the scenery collapsed overnight and had to be rebuilt in two long night shifts. The device that is supposed to lift me up in the air so I'll be flying across the stage isn't working, and we spent a whole day trying to make it happen with Alec and the technician. I was fit to be buried by the end of that day. Singing with a full orchestra is splendid, but it's also something I haven't done before, and it does take some getting used to. At least the dancing is going well now – as I can tell from Jane's death glare during rehearsals.
Last night I came in on her singing one of Kate's big songs, "Now, If You Love Me, Stay," and I have to admit that it gave me some satisfaction to hear her not getting it right. She finished and saw me, gave me the stink eye, but never said anything.
"Again," Cornelius calls from the auditorium, and the orchestra starts for the fourth time so Felix and I can do a certain tricky passage. I've grown to like Felix. I suspect a budding romance between him and Jane, and it's quite sweet to see him excited and happy whenever they speak. He reminds me of Emmett in more ways than just his stature and strong build. He also has a cute sense of humor and a relaxed way of handling things. We went out after a rehearsal last week, and I laughed so much at his jokes that I almost slipped off a barstool. When Felix reached out to steady me, Jane noticed, of course, and had a possessive look as she sashayed over to us to stake her claim. I left shortly after that, not without mentioning that I needed to get home to my husband.
This time, the dance works and so does the little duet that follows. Cornelius is satisfied with our work and sends us home, telling us to get some rest before the run-through the next day. I say good-bye to everyone and walk back to the changing room, where I blow my nose. I have been plagued by this nasty cold for days. Edward has been giving me some light painkillers and vitamins and made chicken soup last night, sternly advising me to follow Dr. Edward's orders.
It's icy as I make my way to the subway, and I shudder as the biting wind creeps beneath my coat. The streets are crowded with tourists and Christmas shoppers. I don't even know when I'm supposed to buy any gifts. I guess I'll have to do a lot of online shopping this year.
The subway is ridiculously crammed, and I am stuck between a toothless man who is talking to himself, or maybe all of us, about Prohibition, and a teenaged girl babbling into her cell phone about her boy trouble. I close my eyes for a second, but it just makes the throbbing in my head more excruciating.
By the time I get home, it has started to snow once more, thick white flakes that float down silently. It's beautiful, but I'm not able to enjoy it; I'm just too cold and exhausted. My heart lurches happily when I open the front door because the lights are on and Edward's coat is in the closet. After this day, I want nothing more than to be cuddled up in the security of his arms. I try to ignore the headache that has been growing stronger over the past hour.
"Hey, darling," I call out, walking into the kitchen. Edward isn't there. "Edward?" I peek into the dining room, which is also dark.
"I'm in here, love," he calls softly from the living room, which is connected to the dining room through two large glass doors.
I sneeze.
"Hey." Edward looks up from his spot on the sofa. He's working on his laptop.
I sneeze again.
"Oh God, baby." He gets up and crosses the distance between us. "Are you okay?" He pulls me into his arms.
"I think I caught something." I lay my head against his chest, relaxing.
"Poor little lamb." He kisses the top of my head. "I'll draw you a bath and get you an aspirin, okay?"
We have dinner in bed, me in a fluffy bathrobe and Edward in his pajamas. He ordered Chinese, insisting that a hot and spicy soup would do me good. We talk about our respective days, I sneeze and blow my nose, and by the time the opening credits of MadMen are on, my eyes are drooping.
The next morning, my headache is killing me. My throat hurts so badly that I can hardly swallow, and I'm really, really hot. Edward shines his little light into my throat, takes one look at my swollen tonsils, and tells me that I have tonsillitis.
"You can't go to work like that." He gently strokes my hair.
"No," I groan, and my voice sounds terrible. "But I need to… We've only…" I cough, which hurts.
Edward, who is sitting on the side of the bed, takes off his gloves and hands me two pills and a glass of water. Swallowing them makes me flinch with pain.
"I'll have Ben give you a prescription for antibiotics," he says, running his knuckles over my cheek. "I need to go now, but I'll be back during my lunch break, okay?"
"No… not okay… I need to…" I sneeze.
"Bella. If we don't treat this, it'll get worse and you won't be able to work at all. This way, you'll be staying in bed for a week and –"
"A week?" I croak.
"Maybe five days. Please. Go back to sleep. I'll give Cornelius a call."
I try to protest further, but everything hurts and I'm a little dizzy too. If I'm honest, I know there's no way I'm going to be able to rehearse like this, so I sink back into the pillows and close my eyes.
"Can you open your mouth, love?"
I do, and Edward slides a thermometer under my tongue.
"I'll be back in a second," he says, and I hear him walk to the bathroom. He returns a moment later, just as the thermometer beeps. "Hmm, 102.6," he says. "I thought as much." He kisses my hand. "I put some spray for your throat and more painkillers on the nightstand. But sleep will help you most. Call me if anything's wrong, okay?"
"Yeah…" I whisper. I'm already drowsing off.
Soft lips on my brow.
"I love you," he murmurs.
=====oOo=====
The next three days, I drift in and out of sleep, feeling utterly miserable. Edward brings me antibiotics and lots of tea and lozenges and he insists I have some soup and drink lots of water, but mostly, I just sleep. He's sweet and caring, never complaining about my grouchiness, cleaning away the heaps of Kleenex and the teacups and wrappers that litter the bedroom.
On the fourth day, my fever has dropped to 99.1, and I feel much better. I allow Cedric back into the bedroom, but he tortures me by showing off his self-taught trick of opening the bedside drawers, so I frequently throw him out.
My voice has returned and I am able to talk to Cornelius on the phone. He tells me that they're working on the scenes I'm not in, and they're waiting for me to come back. I'm embarrassed about holding up the rehearsal process, and promise to be back during the next few days.
That afternoon, Seth visits me, bringing magazines and candy.
"Bells, oh babe, you look…" He shakes his head.
"Thanks," I mutter. "I know I look like crap, but I'm actually just glad that I'm able to swallow again."
Seth's eyes widen. Knowing his dirty mind, there's no need for him to elaborate any further, so I just pout.
"Hardy har har."
"Sorry, Bells. You look fabulous, if a bit palish."
I sigh and blow my nose.
"I'll just be glad when I can get back to work. I feel rotten having them all wait for me. It's like I'm failing Cornelius for the second time."
"It's not your fault that you're sick," Seth argues.
"Nobody cares whose fault it is. You know this business."
"I do." Seth rolls his eyes. "Maybe you should just drop out," he jokes. "Leave it all behind. You'll have to, anyway, once Edward's knocks you up." He wriggles his eyebrows, and I slap his thigh.
"Excuseme? He's not going to 'knock me up,' and anyway, it won't happen for another seven or eight months. If then."
"What do you mean, honeybunny? I thought that's what you wanted?"
I'm glad that Seth and I know each other so well. His black eyes convey so much he doesn't have to vocalize it. He'll always be there for me, and will always be on my side.
"I do," I say. "Absolutely. I've made my decision. It's what I want. Just not now, you know? I think I need a little time to prepare. Anyway, most couples don't get pregnant right away…"
"Any problems in that department on Edward's side?"
"What? No! Seth, you're just… Ugh." I fall back against the pillows. "Can we please change the subject?"
"Yes. It is a complete pain in the ass to organize a wedding. I know it's more than six months away, but can you imagine how many tiny details you have to decide on?"
"That's why we kept it small," I smile. "So, have you picked a location yet?"
"I think we'll go for a hotel, though I love the idea of doing the ceremony, or the reception, or both, at a park or a garden."
"The Woodland Park Rose Garden!"
Seth smiles. "Yeah, I've been thinking about that too. We just need to have an alternate site in case it rains."
"Pfft. It never rains in Seattle!"
We both laugh and chat for another hour before I yawn and Seth leaves, promising to call the next day.
I'm woken by Edward's lips on my cheek.
"Hey. You look much better."
"Hey," I murmur and open my eyes. "Wow! What's…"
Edward is holding the most exquisite bouquet of wild flowers, all beautiful pinks and purples, blues and creamy whites.
"These are amazing… Thank you. You're crazy, bringing me flowers every day."
"I love you," he murmurs against my cheek.
I want nothing more than to celebrate my newfound health by making out with my husband, but I actually feel sweaty and sticky, so I wriggle out of his arms.
"I need to take a shower…"
"Okay." Edward gently slaps my butt as I make my way to the bathroom. "I'll be in the kitchen," he calls after me.
We have a delicious dinner of chicken and rice with salad, crashing on the couch afterward. Cedric joins us, and I cuddle into Edward's chest, feeling warm and full and happy.
We watch an old episode of Cheersand I tell Edward about my conversation with Cornelius.
"Do you think it would be okay if I went back tomorrow?"
I can feel him become tense. I anticipated as much.
"Bella, I understand that you want to return to work, but –"
"Okay," I say, kissing his neck, wrapping my arms around him.
"Okay?"
"Wednesday, then?" I kiss his throat.
"Thursday?"
"Wednesday?" I bite his earlobe.
"Okay," he sighs. "It's a compromise."
Everyone greets me warmly when I return on Wednesday. Well, everyone but Jane. I suppose she was hoping I'd be sick indefinitely so she could have my part. I'm still a little groggy, but I manage okay, and the relief at being able to partake again overrules any little aches or pains I might feel.
At home, Edward continues to pamper me whenever he's home. He has this natural caring instinct, or something, which isn't surprising, and is probably one of the reasons he became a doctor in the first place, but sometimes, it also makes me think that he will be a great father. And that thought sometimes leads me to question whether I would be a great mother…
That weekend, I feel well enough to accompany Edward to the hospital's annual Christmas party. I'm not exactly eager to go; that sort of party has never been my thing, and I still tend to feel ill at ease among Edward's colleagues. But I know it's important to him, so we're going. I put on a long, flowing dress made of grey silk and chiffon. It shows off my cleavage and shoulders, and I know Edward loves to see me in it.
He, of course, looks breathtaking in a grey suit, and, because he loves to color-coordinate, a slim grey tie and black shoes. He has an easy smile on his face as he talks to his boss, while I am chatting with Heidi, Demetri's wife. She tells me about her new granddaughter, showing me pictures of the baby on her phone, and I coo and squeal accordingly, but also because the baby is actually pretty darn cute.
Everyone is drinking champagne, which makes me a little jealous. I have to stick to water, because I'm still taking antibiotics. I love the way Edward always makes contact with me in situations as this, knowing that I don't feel very relaxed. He touches my hand, or my elbow, spreads his palm on the small of my back, or just smiles at me with eyes telling me loves me.
Our little group is joined by James and Victoria. I still don't like her very much, but I know it's bitchy, so I make an effort to be friendly. James is okay, if a little drab, but Victoria… I don't know. Something about her strikes me as phony, but I can't put my finger on it. We make small talk about work at the hospital and buying Christmas presents and how insane it is this year. Heidi rambles on about finding suitable gifts for everyone, and I nod politely, watching Victoria surreptitiously from the corner of my eye. She looks lovely, her red curly hair flowing around her shoulders, her perfect figure accentuated by her green dress.
"Edward," she chirps at one point, putting her hand on his forearm. "Have you told Bella about the educational course we'll be attending in Boston?"
Come again?
"It hasn't been confirmed, Victoria," Edward says, smiling indulgently. He looks at me and slides one arm around my waist. I guess he can see that I am not pleased at all.
"We're talking about March here," he explains. "It's a thing about cardiac diseases in expectant mothers. But it's not certain that the conference is going to happen at all."
"Oh, I'm sure it will," Victoria smiles.
"How fascinating," I say and, wanting to change the subject but also wanting to show Victoria I don't care what she has to say, I turn to her husband. "James, how's work for you? You're at Mount Sinai, if I remember correctly?"
For some reason, I can sense that Victoria doesn't like the change in conversation, and that pleases me wickedly, so I make a point of asking James a lot of questions, which he answers diligently. I wasn't wrong; he is a bit drab.
Edward and Victoria are deep in conversation all the while, and if I didn't know better, I'd say she was flirting with him. But she isn't; it's something else. It's more like she's sucking up to him because of his position, but that doesn't make any sense either.
It's Edward who shakes me out of my musings, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
"I'm hungry. Are you hungry too?" His eyes are amused, and maybe slightly irritated. "Are you coming to get something from the buffet with me?"
"Yes, of course."
We make our excuses and leave the little group, crossing the richly decorated ballroom to the lavish buffet tables. The band is playing "Jingle Bell Rock," and people are dancing and laughing, some of them wearing Santa hats or reindeer horns. I suddenly feel like the Grinch.
"What's going on, love?" Edward asks softly while we're waiting for our freshly grilled shrimp, which are being prepared by a young cook in a black uniform.
"What do you mean? Nothing."
Edward looks unconvinced and lifts an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Was it that remark about the course in Boston? As I said, that's months ahead, and I'm not even sure…"
"I was just wondering why you wouldn't tell me about something like that."
"Because I don't even know if it's going to happen," Edward says, exasperation in his voice. "And if it happens, I don't think I'll be going. This was just… I don't know, Victoria's way of claiming attention."
I huff, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
"This isn't about the course, is it?"
Edward looks at me, and I try to smile and lie about it, but I can't do that.
"Fine. I don't like her," I blurt, instantly biting my lip.
"Who? Victoria?"
"Yes, of course, Victoria."
I take my plate, thank the cook and, feeling like a stubborn child, make my way ahead of Edward to one of the tables.
"Why?" he asks once he sits down next to me.
"I don't know. Never mind. I don't have to like everybody, do I?"
"But she's a nice woman," Edward protests.
"Can we just forget about it?" I kiss his cheek. Edward looks at me, frowning slightly, but lets it go for now.
Fortunately, neither of us is resentful by nature, so by the time we're home later that night, everything is okay between Edward and me.
Tomorrow is a Sunday, probably my last day off until Christmas, and Edward doesn't need to work either. In other words: heaven.
Sighing happily, I join him in bed, and Edward pulls me close and buries his face in my hair.
"Mmm.. You smell so good…"
"So do you," I whisper, moving closer to him so I can kiss his neck and throat.
We haven't had sex in ten days, first because I was sick and then because we both fell into bed and conked out from exhaustion at night.
Edward's scent, the feel of his skin, his body, arouses me immediately, and I can tell that it's the same for him.
Running my hand over his bare chest, I nibble at his ear.
"Edward…"
"Yes…"
I can feel his heartbeat increase and he sighs when I suck his earlobe into my mouth. I lightly scratch my fingers down his chest, over the smattering of hair, over his ribcage, stopping by his bellybutton, following the happy trail that leads me directly to my happy place.
Seconds later, Edward has pulled me on top of him so I'm straddling his legs and we're kissing feverishly, as if it had been ten weeks instead of ten days. His hands impatiently roam my body, brushing up my nightdress and squeezing my buttocks while his warm breath tickles my skin.
"Oh my beautiful Isabella…" He pushes the silk of my nightdress to the side so he can kiss my nipple.
"Ed… ward…" I moan.
He whispers hotly against my skin, but I don't understand everything, since Edward is very preoccupied with my breast.
Kissing and touching all the time, we make quick work of each other's clothes, and Edward's lips do the most delicious things to me. He's straining against my belly, hard and ready, and I take him in my hand. How I love the feel of him, so big, and all mine…
"Bella," he murmurs between kisses, "My beautiful Isabella…"
We're breathing heavily, tasting and smelling each other, and I'm moving so he can –
"Fuck!" Edward pants against my breast.
"What?"
"Condom… We need a condom… The antibiotics…"
We part and, like actors in a romantic comedy, dig into our individual nightstands in a frenzy.
"Okay," Edward announces, and I can hear the foil tearing. "We need to stock up on these bastards."
A second later, he pulls me back on top of him and we both groan when I lower myself on him. It's the best feeling in the world. He fills me and makes me complete.
I wrap my arms around Edward's neck and he has his hand on my hips, moving me up and down while our mouths connect in one desperate, long kiss. We're making love, but it's also urgent, hot fucking, our moans and grunts lingering in the air. Our moves soon become more rapid, and I tremble when Edward applies exactly the right amount of pressure to my clit. I reach behind me and lightly massage his balls.
Seconds later, we're a sweaty, convulsing mess, shuddering and clinging to each other.
"Ahh…" Panting, Edward falls back against the headboard and I crash on top of him, my heart only gradually slowing down. I flinch when he pulls out of me to get rid of the condom.
"My, my." Edward kisses my sweaty brow. "I missed you." He puts his arms around me and I rest my head on his shoulder. He kisses my temple. "I love you," he murmurs. "I love you so much."
"And I love you," I reply, regaining my breath. I kiss the side of his neck, inhaling the scent of his skin – honey and vanilla, musky sweat, and Edward. I make little patterns on his chest with my fingertip.
"Are we good?" he suddenly, softly, asks.
"What do you mean?"
I draw a heart on his chest, right over where his heart is.
"About earlier. I'm sorry Victoria said that. The way she said it. I would have told you, but like I said, I'm not even sure it's happening."
"It's okay," I tell him, and we look at each other.
Edward's eyes are nothing but sincere, shimmering in the golden light from the bedside lamp. His long lashes create shadows on his cheekbones, his full lips are swollen from kissing, and his hair points every which way.
"Don't worry," I whisper. "I was just surprised."
"She's a nice woman, and her therapeutic methods are really quite progressive," Edward says, but I don't want to talk about Victoria anymore.
I kiss Edward and nuzzle his ear with my nose, and he understands, putting his hands on my butt as we relax into each other.
We fall asleep the way we always do, with Edward's chest pressing against my back, his arm slung around me. Never, ever have I felt more secure, or better taken care of.
I wake once during the night, feeling uneasy. I can't remember my dream, but there was this general theme of being threatened. Edward has turned onto his back and is breathing evenly, looking peaceful as he sleeps. I'm suddenly overcome by the irrational urge to protect him, even though I don't know what from. I snuggle up to him and twine my arms around him.
Edward sighs in his sleep and put a possessive hand on my breast, evoking a sleepy smile from me before I drift off again.
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A/N:
Thank you to everyone who keeps reading.
This story means so much to me, and I'm extremely happy about each and every review. Please drop me one, it only takes a second.
Hugs and kisses,
harperpitt
