A/N for 2019-05-03: Many thanks to Eeyorefan12 for their mad proofreading skills and for constantly nudging errant characters and commas back into place.
Thank you for all the comments, favourites and follows. I do answer questions as they appear in comments via PM, so log-in if you'd like a response.
Cheers,
Erin
Bella's work continued, the remainder of the week passing by smoothly with much of its ease due to Marsha's help. Phong, the weekend caregiver, was just as efficient. She insisted on taking the children to the park for the morning, telling Bella she could get her fill of them in the afternoon while Phong took on the housework.
"You sit!" she chided, as Bella stood to put away some toys. "You rest. Be busy later."
Sufficiently intimidated, Bella did as she was instructed, surprised to find herself waking up from an impromptu nap an hour later.
She actually felt relaxed when Monday arrived, and looked forward to her teaching assignments for the week. When she arrived at her placement, though, the principal was waiting for her.
"Uh, hi," Bella said, struggling for the man's name. He'd been the one that had sent her home the day she had fainted.
"Barry Garcia," he said, holding out his hand. "Not sure we were officially introduced. I wanted to welcome you, considering you'll be with us for a while."
Bella blinked. "I will?"
"Oh, uh . . . did human resources not reach you this morning?"
"No," Bella said.
The man flushed. "Dang. Well, guess the cat's out of the bag on this one. So sorry. Let me start again. Welcome to Semlin High. You'll be taking over for Ms. Chang for the rest of the year. She has all English classes, most of which are grade 12s. Lovely kids. Actually, I think you were in for her the last time you were here, ah . . . right, when you passed out. Sorry, you probably didn't want to be reminded of that . . ."
The man's verbal diarrhea continued on, and it was only the arrival of the department head that spared Bella further verbiage..
"Barry, give the newbie a break," a tall woman said, smiling as she walked up to the front desk. "I'm Randy Singh. Let me give you the two-bit tour. I'm betting Patty's left you a mile-high stack of resources for your classes."
The day whirled on from there. Bella found herself immersed in reading lesson plans, learning student names, and trying to figure out how and when she was going to mark all the assignments the students would need to complete for the remainder of the term.
By the end of the day, she was mentally and physically exhausted, but she was excited, too. She had loved teaching her own classes, and when she and Matt had moved to Vancouver, she'd reluctantly moved back into substitute work, as that was all that had been available.
As she moved through the groupings of desks, she was happy to see the students were doing well, having mostly mastered the concept she'd taught them. This part was always exciting, and there were some shy smiles from the new faces as she made a few jokes and asked questions.
The first wave of dizziness hit her hard, and she paused, a hand on a student's desk, waiting for it to end. When it passed, she moved back to her own seat, putting her head in her hands, pretending to look at the large desk calendar.
The second bout of lightheadedness was harder, and she closed her eyes.
"Are you okay?" one of the girls nearby asked.
"Yes, thank you," she said, trying to make her smile stretch but barely managing.
The girl went back to her work and Bella kept her eyes open, letting them wander over the calendar.
She had avoided looking at calendars. It was difficult to be reminded of dates. Of how long it had been since Matt died. The big block letters and numbers told her it had now been seven weeks.
There was the rising of a sudden lump in her throat, but she forced it away.
Bella thought of other dates, realizing it would soon be Mer's birthday. She'd be five. There was a bittersweet smile at this thought. She'd have to start organizing a birthday party.
Then she thought about the last few weeks, and realized that something else had been missing during this time. She felt her eyes widening and her heart rate pick up as she frantically counted days, trying to locate something that she must have missed in all her distress.
The bell went off and she gaped like a fish, staring at the calendar, belatedly remembering to blurt out, "Class dismissed!" as the students were already leaving the room.
She was happy when one of them slammed the door, because the first word out of her mouth was a loud, "Shit!"
She repeated it several times for good measure.
Then she sat staring at the calendar.
She was trying to tell herself that stress could very well be the reason for what she was worried about, when a tentative knock at the door made her look up. Then there was the sound of a key and the lock turning.
"Hi," came a man's voice. "You okay?"
"Yes?" She wasn't cognizant enough to even pretend she was.
The door opened, and a familiar body pushed itself into the room.
"Oh, hi," Bella said, searching for his name.
"Grant," he supplied. "Bella, right?"
"Yeah," she said, standing up.
"No, no, sit, please." He walked over with two steaming cups held in one hand, tucking his keys back into the pocket of his apron. "I figured if you were swearing like that, I should pour an extra cup.""
"Oh God, you heard that?"
"Uh, yeah. Cinder block isn't very soundproof." He grinned and tapped the wall with his finger. "Not to worry. I've had a few moments where I've wanted to say the same thing. Were the kids bugging you?"
"No, they were great. I just—I realized I'd . . . forgotten about something. Important."
This was an understatement. There was a silent and unbroken stream of obscenities running through her head.
"I empathize. I forgot to pay my property taxes this year." He shook his head. "Those bean counters at city hall are the worst. No grace period whatsoever."
"Yeah," Bella said absent-mindedly.
"Have some tea," Grant said, "You look a bit peaky. You feeling better? I was kinda worried after you left last time."
"I am, thank you, just—new job. You know?"
"I do. I remember my first year here. Busy times."
Bella was looking around, wanting to leave, to go figure out what the hell she was going to do, but there were still things to be readied for tomorrow.
"Anyway, I'm next door in the shop—well, all the shops—if you need anything, or have questions." Grant took the hint and stood up, getting ready to leave.
"Thank you," Bella said genuinely. "Really. This was very kind. I'm sorry I'm not better company right now."
He waved his hand. "Nope. You're busy. You've got stuff to do. Holler if I can help though. Happy to." He disappeared from the room, leaving Bella to contemplate her cup of tea, a stack of papers to mark, and a rising sense of panic.
- 0 -
She refused to think about it. There was nothing she could do.
After she and Marsha had gotten the children home and fed, Bella focused on the evening routine, trying to be present. She almost fell asleep reading Bunny Cakes to Josh, who demanded four repeat performances, piping up with single words at favoured moments.
When she was certain the children were asleep, she picked up the paper bag she'd brought home from the store. Her hand was a bit better and she was glad Marsha didn't have to drive her anywhere anymore. She wasn't sure how she would have explained the urgent need to stop and pick something up from the drugstore that Marsha couldn't get for her.
It had been several years since she'd had to use one of the items in her hand, and now, as she set the plastic stick on the bathroom counter, she waited for the small windows to change colour—or to not, hoping against hope that she was wrong.
The second blue line was a vivid and horrifying affirmation.
She wanted to deny it. To scream. To beat something over the devastating irony of this outcome. God, she and Matt had talked about a third child.
And now they'd—she'd have one.
She muffled a sob.
Putting the stick and the box in the garbage, she washed her hands, and then walked in the living room, phone in hand.
Still sitting on the coffee table was the card Edward had given Charlie.
The wave of anger found a suitable direction to move in, and she punched in Edward's number.
It rang twice before there was a knock at the door.
Huffing out a frustrated breath, she pressed the end-call button on the phone and grumbled about missionaries and political canvassers as she headed for the front door. She'd had two sets of both in the last week during the evening hours and was ready to provide a set of colourful and repellant invectives strong enough to deter any future visits.
She was already talking when she reached the door and swung it open. "I don't need Jesus. I won't vote for your candidate, and—"
But it was Edward who stood on her porch.
"Do you not answer your phone?" she asked, recovering herself.
"I didn't think you'd call unless it was important," he said.
It was important.
"Please come in," she said, keeping her voice down. The last thing she wanted was a repeat of Josh's request for "Man." Her polite words contrasted sharply with the anger that had been boiling since the afternoon. She stepped back and watched Edward close the door behind him before she spoke again.
"You knew—when you saw me last time. Didn't you?"
"What do you think I knew?" Edward asked carefully.
"Are you seriously going to play dumb on this?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his face expressionless.
"I'm pregnant, Edward."
His mouth closed in a tight line.
Yes, he'd known.
"So you did know."
"Yes," he sighed. "I knew."
"Why the hell didn't you tell me?"
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again and met her eyes with a penetrating stare. "Do you want to even see me, or have me in your life in any way, Bella?"
"What does that have to do with my question?"
"Do you?"
Bella didn't even have to think about it. "No. Any other obvious questions you need answers to?"
"Considering what I know of you, I assume that this child is your late husband's."
Was he trying to enrage her even more? Her cheeks were suddenly hot. "Are you seriously asking me to tell you I haven't been sleeping around?"
"No, I'm saying that I'm assuming that."
"And?"
"I didn't say anything because I thought I would be the last person you'd ever want to hear this news from. You hate me, and with good cause. I've done nothing but bring pain and danger into your life. I didn't want to pollute your good news in any way. I'm sorry if my thinking was incorrect."
She took in several deep breaths before she turned to go into the living room, sinking down onto the couch. Edward followed, walking slowly in her direction before stopping a few feet away.
"Is there anything else I need to know? Anything that you know about my life, my children, my husband—anything?"
Edward watched her for a long time before speaking.
"I will answer any questions you have, and I'll tell you anything you want to know, but I'll warn you. I think you'll regret asking."
"You also thought that leaving me in the woods after breaking my heart was a good idea, Edward. Your judgement isn't exactly high in my esteem."
His face was still that stony mask. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know, but not tonight. If you still want answers to those questions, I'll answer them all, but tomorrow."
"Why tomorrow?"
"You won't like my answer."
"I wasn't asking if I'd like it," she gritted out.
"You've just found out you're pregnant. You're tired, angry, and grieving. If you still want me to tell you everything after you've slept on it, I will. I'm just hoping you'll change your mind."
She was fuming as he moved back to the door. She kept her hands clamped around her knees, face flaming, as she watched him walk out of her house once more.
- 0 -
Bella's sleep that night was broken, first by her anger, and then by the well-rehearsed nightmare.
"Jacob!" she shrieked, sitting up in bed. Hands clawing at the covers, she gasped for air, reminding herself it was just a dream—now, anyway.
Even so, the memory weighed on her in fresh ways. The violence of Jacob's fight with Victoria was newly-vivid, her blood-colored curls an intimation of what her teeth could do. The recollection of the snapping crunch made her shudder.
"Mama?" Josh called. There was a rustling as he stood up.
She stifled her groan, reaching out her hand to his. The room was lit by the streetlights' phosphorescence and the soft glow of the room's night light. "Mama," he said, patting his face, little eyebrows pushed together, looking at her. "Mama," he reiterated.
"Hi sweetie. I just had a bad dream. I'm okay."
"Man," he suggested helpfully, bouncing on his toes.
"Man is not here," she said gently, her unease growing.
"Ma-aaan!" he whined, patting the side of the playpen for emphasis.
"He's not here," she said, lowering her voice, "but Mama's here."
"Ma-AAAN!" he cried, voice rising.
Bella's phone buzzed and Joshua quieted momentarily, watching her intently as she looked at it.
It was a text from Edward: I'm nearby.
Well good for you, she thought.
Joshua's little body was tensing, hands clasping at the sides of the playpen. Then he swung a leg up and scrambled over the side. Climbing into Bella's bed, he pulled at her hand. "Man!"
Josh was awake. It would be hours before he'd go to sleep again. She and Matt had taken turns when he'd had bad nights.
"You want to see the man?" Bella asked him.
He nodded, breathing still rapid.
"Okay, mama will ask if he can come." She looked around the bedroom. They always tried to at least keep him in here those difficult nights. It seemed to help shorten the waking time.
But the idea of having Edward in her bedroom left her midsection in knots.
She refused to even think of her initial reaction when she'd thought he was merely the product of her mind.
Please come, she typed back. Along with the message she sent a silent prayer that she didn't regret this.
I'm doing this for Josh, she told herself. And anything that helps him is good.
Even if it's Edward Cullen.
There was a soft knocking at the upstairs deck door and then a creaking as it opened. Bella stiffened, realising she'd forgotten to lock it the other day.
"May I come in?" Edward called.
"Yes, we're in here," she answered, belatedly realizing he'd already know by scent and sound.
His form solidified in the sparse light.
"Man!" Josh squeaked.
"My name is Edward, remember?" he said, coming and sitting on the far edge of the bed.
Joshua crawled over towards him, putting a hand to Edward's cheek.
Edward stiffened a bit, forehead wrinkling, glancing first at Bella and then back at Josh.
"What?" she asked, suddenly afraid. Was something wrong?
"He's . . . louder. Clearer, when he touches me." He smiled at Josh. "Yes. I can hear you." He nodded again. "I don't know of anyone else who can. Just me. Of course." Then they both looked at Bella.
It made her stomach lurch.
"He wants to know where his Dad is," Edward said softly.
She put her fist to her mouth, nodding, blinking back tears. After a few deep breaths, she managed, "He's gone, sweetie. Daddy died. He's in the ground."
Joshua's face puckered a little. He turned back to Edward.
"Yes," Edward said softly, his own face intent on the little one before him. "That's right. Where the itchy grass was. . . . in the box."
Bella was trying very hard not to cry. She wasn't succeeding.
Edward's hand had slipped behind Joshua's back, making slow circles there, as their conversation continued.
Reaching over to the other side of the bed, Bella pulled Matt's pillow onto her lap, burying her face in it, only half-able to listen to what Edward was saying.
This was not fair, not in the slightest. The man she had loved, and who had loved her in return was gone. And the one who had broken her heart remained.
She wasn't sure how much time had passed before Josh's body leaned into Edward's, his little hand falling to the bed. Both Edward's arms were around him as he waited, perfectly still, for some invisible signal that would allow him to move.
"I can put him back to bed," Bella whispered.
Edward shook his head, mouthing, "Not yet."
She was nodding off herself, blinking, when she felt the covers lifted over her.
"He's in bed," Edward said, moving away.
"Wait!" she slurred out.
His dim form paused.
"Thank you," she mumbled, and then sleep gently claimed her, the world fading to a blissful unconsciousness.
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.