A/N: Hi everybody! It's me again! So... anybody out there, any stragglers? I honestly wouldn't blame you if you abandonned this story - I'm terrible at updating! I had a bit of writer's block this week, but I managed to pull myself together and get this out to you lovely people (what's left of you at any rate!) ;)
Well... this should be interesting anyway. Please review and let me know your views and any questions or comments you might have, I'm getting lonely over there! :)
And finally a shout out to biancanotte. She'll hate me for this! Her overall amazingness at anything creative and literary astounds me and keeps me on my toes. One day, when she is a famous author I will be hounding her to have coffee with me so that I can have my claim to fame!
Chapter 10
There's nothing quite like waking up in the country. This little lakeside town held so many of the qualities that I had missed after leaving my home in England. This peace and tranquillity was what I had longed for: the gentle bird's chirrup and the breezy silences that the city could not offer.
I stretched, warm and content beneath the plush covers. As I did so, my wedding ring shone gold in the narrow stream on sunshine that had crept through the drawn drapes. I sighed happily, twisting the little band around my fourth finger and revelling in its symbolism. I had never pictured myself this way; this wasn't part of my plan. I was going to go to secretarial school and earn a living, marriage was but a tiny speck in the future. Yet, there I was, married and waking up next to my husband at just sixteen. I was far more like Alice than I had previously realised.
Reluctantly, I heaved myself out of bed, careful to be as quiet as possible lest I woke up my husband. I brushed out my plaited hair and silently pulled out my newest summer dress from the bureau - the periwinkle one that Edward had bought for me a few days before: a spontaneous gift. Despite my hating presents, I could not deny him anything and was secretly flattered that he had spotted a dress that he was so adamant I have.
I stole out of the master bedroom and tiptoed down the stairs, only stopping to grab a wicker basket, before I crept out of the house. Edward Masen Senior's cabin by Lake Michigan could hardly be justifiably called a 'cabin', it was far too large and grand. The white-washed walls and delicate gables were sweet and homely, but the finish and interior decoration was almost regal. The furniture was polished wood and silk, the walls papered and extravagant. I could not bring myself to even contemplate just exactly how much money may father-in-law had spent when bidding for it.
I relished the sweet, warm smell of the early summer morning as I made my way down from our cabin to the little town by the harbour. There was not a cloud in sight; the bright blue sky provided the perfect backdrop to my state of bliss. All around me, I could smell fresh flowers and pure water of the lake.
The little town was already heaving with life. Despite the early hour, people bustled here and there, doing their daily chores and perusing the market. I quickly made my way to the pretty little bakery that had rapidly become my local haunt. The silver bell above the door tinkled as I stepped into the shop, where the ovens were raring and the baker greeted me with a knowing smile. The freshly baked bread caused my empty stomach to growl impatiently.
"Good morning, Mrs Masen," the baker greeted me, with an ever-jovial grin.
I blushed with pride, still not used to taking Edward's name.
"And to you, Mr Crowley," I replied.
"If you don't mind my saying, you look very lovely today, Mrs Masen, that blue suits you very well."
The blush deepened.
"Thank you, Mr Crowley."
"What will you be having, ma'am, the usual?"
"Oh no, Mr Crowley, not today. You see, it is my husband's birthday today and I figured such an occasion deserved a treat."
"Quite so, Mrs Masen. What can I interest you in?" he asked kindly, gesturing to the vast choice of delectable pastries and breads.
"Which is your favourite, Mr Crowley?" I asked him, unable to even begin choosing from the mouth-watering selection.
"Well, let me see, the cinnamon bread's a nice treat in the mornings, I've always had a soft spot for it."
"I'll have a loaf of cinnamon bread then, if you please, Mr Crowley."
"Right away, ma'am" he smiled.
-:-
The house was peacefully quiet as I tiptoed back into the house. The sun had fully risen and its rays bathed the house with a golden shine. I hurried to the little kitchen where I sliced the warm loaf in my basket and spread some freshly-churned butter onto the pieces. I laid them carefully on a plate and then rummaged around, finally finding a small tray on which to carry it upstairs.
The door was just as I had left it - slightly ajar - so I hoped that Edward had not noticed my absence. Luckily, it did not squeal as I gently pried it open and crept over to the double bed.
I smiled at the sight of my new husband, watched his chest rise and fall slowly as he slept. His bronze hair was tousled and untamed and I longed to reach over and touch it. I leaned over him gingerly, unsure as to whether to wake him, but unable to resist. After delicately placing the tray on the table nearby, I knelt at his side. I kissed his warm cheek and gazed at his face as he stirred, thanking the heavens that I had ever been so lucky to find a man like Edward.
He groaned as he stirred and pried open eye.
"Why are you out of bed?" he asked groggily.
I chuckled at his obliviousness, glad that he had not missed me.
"I've been out to town," I told him with a delighted smile.
He frowned at that.
"But it's so early, why did you go?"
"Well, my darling, I went to find you a treat for breakfast. It is your birthday."
He squinted his sleepy eyes and I watched as he remembered the significance of the day.
"I don't need material treats, Mrs Masen, I like kisses far better," he said, with an impish, school-boy grin.
"I'm sure you do," I said, laughing at his saucy ways. "Happy Birthday, Edward," I said, kissing his lips sweetly.
He smiled, stretching out of his sleepy state. I stood up from my perch and was about to retrieve his breakfast, when his hands encircled my waist and he pulled me down on top of him.
"Edward!" I giggled, as he hugged me to him and pulled the covers over the two of us.
"I want to stay in bed," he pouted.
"I'm sure you do! But it is a beautiful day outside and I have everything planned out. You're sabotaging my agenda!"
"But it's my birthday," he whispered into my ear as he held me tightly.
I sighed, knowing that it was no use, he had me wrapped around his little finger.
"A little while," I conceded, "but then we're going out!"
-:-
After finally succeeding in dragging my lazy, lethargic husband out of bed, I bustled about as I finished the picnic that I had prepared for the day. Most of it had been made the night before, but there were a few finishing touches that needed to be seen to.
Edward came up behind me, now dressed in a summer shirt and light trousers, and laid his head on my shoulder just as I was finishing putting together the picnic basket.
"You look even better in this dress than I thought you would," he mumbled as he kissed my exposed neck.
"Yes, Mr Crowley at the bakery complimented me on it. He told me that I look quite lovely in blue," I cheeped.
I couldn't help but tease him a little.
I felt Edward's arms stiffen and constrict at my announcement, and his kissing stopped abruptly.
"I swear that man has no sense of propriety! What does he mean by charming another man's wife?"
"Edward," I said calmly, twisting in his arms so that I could face him and hold his face in my hands, "he only meant to be polite."
"Nevertheless," he growled, hugging me to him, "I don't like it."
I snorted, "You are a very jealous man, my dear husband."
"Only of what is mine," he told me, "and you are mine."
"I am," I conceded, stretching up to my tiptoes to kiss his nose. "Now let's not stand about here like goons. The picnic is finished, so let us not dilly-dally!"
I found my light straw hat and a little crotchet shawl to keep out the slight chill, while Edward proudly wore his newly purchased Panama hat. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his love for spending money. He picked up the picnic basket before I could, and, despite my protests, would not hear of letting me carry it, no matter how light it was. He diligently locked our front door and arm-in-arm we walked down the little path out of our front garden, ambling our way down to the town.
The locals greeted us as we walked along; we had been in town for nearly three weeks on our lengthy honeymoon and they were growing quite accustomed to our presence. The harbour was full of activity as we passed through, and the friendly fishermen tipped their caps and wished us a good day. Everyone seemed to think that the 'young newlyweds from the city' were quite the sweetest affair.
We reached the beach and I immediately removed my shoes, enjoying the feeling of the sand between my toes. The charming beach was deserted and so, with a burst of impulse, I ran and turned cartwheels just as I had as a child in England. I didn't have a care in the world. I could hear Edward laughing as a danced and twirled in the sand, often falling over as I went.
"Come on, Edward!" I called out to him.
He shook his head with a grin, rooted to the sand, picnic basket still in his hand.
Just like my mother, I put both hands on my hips and began to scold him, pushing back the giggles the entire time.
"Edward Masen! You turn seventeen and suddenly you're too grown-up to have fun on an empty beach?"
"Bella, please, it's not proper," he began.
"There's nobody else here!" I protested. "It seems that I have married a killjoy."
"I am not a killjoy!"
"Oh yes, you are!"
"Bella," he warned.
"Prove it. Race me to the sea," I challenged.
For a moment he scowled at me, but made no move. Then, quite out of the blue, he had abandoned the picnic basket and was sprinting towards me. I squealed in delight and shock and began to run to the shoreline as fast as I could.
I could hear Edward rapidly gaining on me; his legs were far longer than mine and my slow reflexes were really not working to my advantage. I screamed as he caught me by the waist and hoisted me into his arms, barely slowing down at all. We hit the water and were covered in ocean spray as he waded noisily through the waves.
Once he was waist deep he looked down at me, cocking his eyebrows with expectance. I sighed.
"You're not a killjoy," I conceded, reluctantly.
He looked pleased with himself.
"…all the time," I whispered, quietly so as he wouldn't hear.
But I think he caught it.
"What?"
"Nothing," I squeaked.
"It seems that you are being disrespectful to your husband, Mrs Masen," he told me, his green eyes twinkling, "I believe it is my duty to punish you for such insubordination."
"Edw-"
I came up from under the waves, spluttering and seething. He had dropped me! He had dropped me and dunked me under the water!
And so began an utterly care-free and silly water fight that was the most fun I had had in years. By the time we finally reached a truce we were both drenched from head to toe. We hauled ourselves out of the water, Edward - ever the gentleman - supporting me beneath the arm.
We stumbled across the beach, dripping and unable to stop laughing. I reached the discarded basket and flopped - in a very unladylike fashion - to the floor, pulling Edward down with me.
We sat in a comfortable silence as we waited for our clothes to dry, both of us content to admire the scenery: the majestic blue ocean, the golden sand, the tiny white sails of boats that dotted the horizon.
-:-
"So… did you enjoy your birthday?" I asked Edward as I washed my face in the wash basin on our dresser.
"It was wonderful, Bella," he said, yawning, propped up in bed.
"The best?" I asked cheekily.
"Even better than when I got my first bicycle on my seventh birthday."
I swatted his head for that, as I scrambled under the covers. I crawled into his waiting arms, lying my head on his warm chest.
"We'll be alright, won't we Edward?" I asked, the nagging fear I had suddenly releasing the child in me.
He gripped me close to him and kissed my hair softly.
"I hope so, Bella. I really hope so."
-:-
Later that week Edward and I were returning from the market, arms laden with produce. We were nearly back to our cabin, when we met the Postmaster, Mr Yorkie, who looked to be rather out of breath and positively delighted to see us.
"Mr Masen! I am glad to have bumped into you. I was just at your house, but you were out," he explained quickly. "I have a letter for you, Chicago postage."
Edward frowned, but stepped forward to accept the letter, carefully juggling our purchases in his arms to take it. He thanked Mr Yorkie and we both bade him goodbye as we carried on up to the cabin, both of us confused as to why we were receiving post while away on our honeymoon. A thousand solutions flashed across my mind as I evaluated all possibilities: the good and the bad.
I hurried to put away all of our groceries and quickly unpinned my hat - infernal thing that it was! I found Edward sat on one of the sofa's in the living room. His back was to me, so I could not decipher his expression, but I could see the discarded envelope on a nearby table and the letter opened in his hands. He sat motionless; not a muscle flexed. I took a deep breath and swallowed my fear, calmly walking over to sit beside his unmoving body.
"Edward?" I probed him quietly.
Nothing.
What was there to do? This was evidently shocking news, whether it was devastating or brilliant was yet to be decided.
"Sweetheart," I whispered, rubbing his stiff arm, "what is the matter? You can tell me."
Still nothing.
His green eyes stared straight ahead of him, unseeing. He was a statue.
By this time I was nearing hysteria. I could feel confused tears pricking my eyes, though I desperately willed them away. Left with no other choice, I slowly peered over Edward's shoulder to read the letter that had turned him into this uncommunicative creature.
To our dear son-in-law,
It is with the deepest regret and sympathy that we write to you to inform you of the tragic passing of your parents. Not a week after your departure from the city, were they sent to the hospital sporting fevers, deliria, and chronic pains. The hospital was overrun with patients - the illness has wreaked havoc on Chicago. They are calling it the Spanish Influenza. They were among the first to be struck down with it and I am told in good faith that they passed peacefully. Please accept our sincerest condolences.
You and Bella must stay away from the city; stay where you are. Do not come back until this hell has finally abated. Please, our daughter is all we have, do not allow her to come back, the risk of contracting the influenza is incomprehensibly high. Do not worry about us, worry about yourselves. Leave the sorting of affairs and inheritance until this epidemic has passed.
Once again, we offer our heart-felt commiserations. Stay safe.
Yours,
Charles and Renee Swan
"My God!" I gasped, tears wracking my body.
I simply couldn't digest it all. I thought of Edward and Elizabeth Masen, who had always been so full of life, so kind to me - now they were gone. How could two such wonderful people be so cruelly snatched from the world, have their lives ripped away from them? I thought of Elizabeth's eyes - the same piercing shade of green as my Edward's - and how they used to shine with mirth; now those eyes were closed and cold. I thought of her strange bronze hair that her only child had inherited and how the sun had woven gold into it on the spring morning of our wedding - the last time I saw her; now it lay drab somewhere in the Chicago hospital morgue. I thought of Edward Senior, how he had wanted so much for his son - his pride and joy - and now he would never see Edward flourish and grow. They were gone.
I cried until my throat was ripped and my eyes had no more tears left to shed, but Edward did not give up one tiny tear - he showed no acknowledgement of what had happened. He continued the day as he normally did, he made himself busy and took time to read and relax; but not once did he say a word to me. The light was gone from his eyes as he moved about the house mechanically, never speaking.
I watched and worried. I had no idea what to do, what to say, how to comfort him without causing him pain or making him lash out at me. I tried, as best I could, to follow his example and carry on as normal, but it felt like I was tarnishing the memory of his parents. I needed to mourn for them.
Yet I let him be. I was for the best - I decided - to let him handle the situation how he saw fit. I doubted that my pestering him would do any good, it would probably only cause more problems. And so I sat tight. I read, I sewed and I cooked, all the while watching him and worrying for him…
The night finally drew in and I was overjoyed to finally be going to bed to sleep. The crying had exhausted me and combined with Edward's terrifying reaction to the news, I felt more than ready to pass out on the bed.
I changed into my nightgown, unable to not sniffle as I ran my fingertips over the soft, carefully-woven lace and silk. It had been a wedding gift from Elizabeth, she had given it to me shortly before we departed for the train station. It was the last time I saw her, the last time I would ever see her.
I laid back on the pillows and drew the covers up to my chest, staring at the ceiling and trying to summon some strength to help Edward. I turned onto my side and looked at his back that faced me. Normally, Edward would be eager for me to sleep in his arms, but tonight he looked away - he didn't want me. I tried to reassure myself that this was his way of dealing with the day's events, that he needed space, but try as I might, I could not shake off the sinking feeling of rejection. Shaking it off I leant over to my bedside table and quickly blew out the candle, plummeting the room into blackness.
I was about to succumb to sleep when I was disturbed by a heart-wrenching sob that penetrated the silence the darkness of the bedroom. Amidst the black I saw my husband's hunch form shake as his entire body finally gave way to his pain. Forgetting all my self-lectures, I threw caution to the wind and held him in my arms, rubbing his back and soothing him as he cried. Eventually he quieted and slowly rolled over to face me. Our eyes locked and in that moment I understood: he didn't want words, he didn't want pity, he just wanted to be comforted and reassured. I cradled him like a mother would, stroked his hair and hummed the lullaby my mother used to sing to me when I awoke from nightmares as a young girl. He fell asleep just before dawn and I snuggled into his warmth, holding onto him with everything I had.
A/N: Hmmm... so I had a little writer's block but I think it came out okay... ish. Please let me know what you think. Again, links are in my profile - I don't if anyone actually looks but I love to have them, I have pictures upon pictures of this story. Believe it or not, I only give a small selection!!
Thank you for reading my little attempt at being a writer, it means a lot and I want to thank all of my beautiful reviewers who give me so much support and kindness (it sounds like I'm receiving an Oscar - I'd better stop!!!)
I reckon we're about 2/3 of the way through the story, so maybe 5 more chapters? Maybe more, maybe less, I'm not sure right now!
Until next time!
Yours as ever,
.up xx