Author Note: Thank you for the great response so far! We've crossed 1,000 reviews!
I think I need to remind readers that Bella told her friends right after she and Edward had sex that she wasn't concerned about a relationship with him. She knows he's still grieving, so she's put it out of her mind for now. She's only interested in being a friend to someone who needs one.
Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.
Chapter 10 – Careless Memories
I'm awakened by the ding of my phone. Groggily, I reach for it on the nightstand, and through bleary eyes, read Alice's text message.
Can you believe it? Jasper is a gentleman.
I'm assuming that means you didn't get some last night.
Sure didn't. But we exchanged numbers at least.
Chuckling, I drag myself out of bed. Now that I'm more awake, I realize I really need to pee.
I wasn't really drunk last night, but since I was probably over the legal limit, I got a ride home with Rosalie, Edward and Emmett. When Angela said she'd make sure that Alice and Jasper got home OK, I assumed that Alice had gotten her way and Jasper would be going home with her… but I guess he didn't.
After my shower, I get dressed and check the weather on my phone. It's cold, but not like last night, and sunny. I decide to walk off my slight hangover by making the 1.5-mile trek to the diner lot to pick up my car.
As I walk, I think back to last night. By midnight, Edward seemed almost "normal." He actually seemed to be having fun, for perhaps the first time since July. I still can't believe that Bree's death was so recent. If she died around Rosalie's due date, which is two weeks after Angela's, then it must've been only about six weeks before Edward and Masen arrived in Forks. He didn't waste any time moving nearly as far away as he possibly could. I imagine Chicago must have held a lot of memories for him.
Once I reach my car, I drive to Port Angeles to pick up a Christmas gift for Masen. It may or may not be partially an excuse to go see his father this weekend.
I feel like maybe we came to some sort of understanding last night, like he gave silent permission for me to take tentative steps toward continuing our friendship. I know I can't push him too far too fast, but… baby steps.
When Saturday morning arrives — Christmas Eve — I wait until I'm sure that Edward will be up before heading next door, wrapped box in hand. I had briefly considered buying something for Edward as well, but in the end decided that that was too big of a step.
"Oh, hi, Bella," he greets me after opening the door. I have to make a big effort not to stare at him, he looks so good; his dark green sweater really brings out the color of his eyes.
"Hi," I smile back. "I, um, brought a gift for Masen."
"You didn't have to do that, but thanks. Come on in and you can give it to him."
He takes a step back, giving me space to walk past him into the house. "Mase, someone is here to see you!" he calls, leading me into the living room. The little boy is sitting on the floor, pushing a large plastic truck back and forth.
"You got a tree!" I exclaim, spotting the colorfully decorated Christmas tree in the corner. And it looks like a live one, not artificial.
"Um, yeah," he says, scratching at his head. "Mom wanted photos of Masen with the tree, so we all went out Wednesday to pick it out."
"It looks great!"
"The women folk did most of the decorating," he explains. "Well, Emmett put the star on top. That's been his job since Dad had to hold him up so he could reach."
"I like your theme with all of the red, gold and silver ornaments."
"They're all new," he replies quietly. "Except for Masen's first Christmas ornaments from last year. I-I couldn't bring myself to reuse the ones I'd bought with Bree. Mom picked these out… I didn't really care."
"Well, it looks nice anyway." I get down on my knees, setting the wrapped present in front of Masen. "Masen, this is for you."
"Need help, buddy?" I smile widely as Edward joins us on the floor, helping his son rip the paper off the box. "Oh wow, look Mase! Your own laptop!"
"Rah!" he yells excitedly, playing with the paper.
"The teacher in me can't resist giving educational gifts," I laugh.
"It's great, thanks, Bella."
"I hope he likes it, too." I take a deep breath before going on, since he's acting friendlier toward me than he has in over two months. "And, um, I was wondering… I'm making Christmas Eve dinner later for my dad, his girlfriend, and her kids. You and Masen are more than welcome to join us since your family left. It's ham, not lasagna, but…"
"We're fine," he replies when I trail off. "It's always been our family tradition to celebrate on Christmas Day, beginning with waking up to presents under the tree and then a big dinner. Today is just a normal day to me, really."
"You're sure?" I ask skeptically.
He nods. "I don't want to intrude on your family celebration. The diner is open until six; maybe we'll go out tonight for dinner since they're closed Christmas Day," he shrugs. "Thanks for the offer though; I really do appreciate you thinking of us."
"Well, OK, but if you get lonely, you know where to find me," I reply, standing up. "I need to get started on the ham."
"Thanks again for Masen's laptop," he says, standing to walk me out.
"My pleasure, really." I give Edward a little smile and a wave as I step outside. I never really expected him to accept my invitation, but it was worth a shot.
New Year's Eve and I'm in my pajamas by nine. I feel like I'm 65 instead of 25 as I sit curled up on the couch watching a taped version of one of the celebrity-filled TV specials.
At the first ding, I think it's something on TV, but when it sounds again 20 seconds later, I realize it's my phone.
Are you home? - E
Yes. Why? Did you need something?
Some company? If you're busy it's no big deal.
Give me 10 minutes.
A huge smile on my face, I turn off the TV then jump up from the couch. Edward actually wants my company! I can't go next door like this, however, so I quickly run upstairs and pull today's outfit out of the hamper, brushing out the few wrinkles before getting dressed.
I throw on my coat, and then as I pick up my keys, I make a detour into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I choose a bottle of one of my favorite Washington state wines, hoping it's not too sweet for a man's taste.
Bottle in hand, I step outside into the cold and walk over to Edward's house. When the door opens, I smile widely. "Hey, Edward. I, um, I brought some wine… if-if you want some, that is…"
"Sure," he smiles, taking the bottle from me. "Thanks for coming on short notice."
"It's not like I had anything better to do," I reply with a wink, following him into the kitchen. He rummages around in a drawer, finally finding an opener to remove the cork from the bottle.
"Where are your friends? Or your dad?" he asks, selecting two wine glasses from an upper cabinet.
"Dad is on a date with his girlfriend, Sue. Alice is working, and Angela and Ben went to Seattle for the weekend. One last big New Year's Eve before they become parents."
Edward hands me a glass with a sad smile, then starts walking toward the living room, where I can hear one of the New Year's specials coming from the TV. "Last year, Mom and Dad came over to watch Masen so Bree and I could have our first night out since his birth. We were so exhausted from the late night feedings that we were home and asleep by nine."
I sit beside him on the couch, not at the opposite end, but maybe three feet away — an acceptable distance, I hope — then take a sip of my wine.
"Will you tell me about her?" I ask quietly. "About Bree? If-if it's too painful, you don't have to."
"Like what?"
"Just… anything," I shrug. "When did you meet? You married young. Were you high school sweethearts?"
Edward sighs, sipping his wine, then sets it on the end table next to him. "We met in college, the first semester of sophomore year, in an anatomy class. I was still pre-med then. Bree was friends with my lab partner, and when she learned that I was struggling, she offered to tutor me."
"Wait, Bree was a doctor?" I interrupt, shocked.
He shakes his head. "Pharmacist. Anyway, as we worked together, I confessed that I really didn't want to become a doctor, and Bree encouraged me to be true to myself. I still took a bit of a coward's way out, talking to my advisor and changing my major to English with a Creative Writing minor, even registering for classes, all without telling anyone in my family.
"When I went home for Winter Break, I finally told my parents. It didn't go well, at first, but then my mom stuck up for me. She said she'd never want to see a doctor who really didn't want to be a doctor," he laughs.
"When I went back to school after the break, I finally got up the courage to ask Bree on a date. From that point on, we were inseparable. We were best friends," he says wistfully, wiping a stray tear from his eye.
"I suppose we did marry young, but what was the point in waiting? I proposed and gave her an engagement ring for Christmas during our senior year. Most girls seem to want a June wedding, but not Bree. Her favorite season was autumn. She loved to go on long drives to see the trees changing colors. She consulted a Farmer's Almanac to find the expected peak fall color and chose that weekend for our wedding date. We got married outdoors in a park and it was beautiful. She was beautiful," he says sadly.
Looking down, I realize that at some point, I reached out and took Edward's hand in mine. He doesn't even seem to realize it.
"Do you have a photo of her?" I ask curiously.
Edward turns his head to stare at me. "Sure, I have some, but it hurts too much to look at them right now."
"Oh, of course," I reply quickly, deciding that maybe it's best to change the subject a bit. "So… did you just start writing after graduation or did you have a, you know, real job?"
He chuckles lightly, removing his hand from mine to pull at his hair. "I had a real job. During college, I interned at a publishing house. I was basically a glorified personal assistant. But they hired me on as a junior editor after graduation. It wasn't what I wanted to do, but I knew it was good experience. It took me almost three years to complete my first novel, working on it in the evenings when Bree was busy with something else.
"After a few months, I got brave enough to show what I'd written to someone at work, one of the more senior editors. She… didn't have the best things to say about it, but she did give me some really good feedback, once I was ready to listen to it. I ended up scrapping it entirely versus rewriting it.
"I finished my second book nearly two years ago. This time when I showed it to my friend, she liked it. I was shocked when the company accepted it for publication, though I did have to spend several months editing."
"And it came out in November last year, you said?" I really enjoyed Edward's book after I bought it, but the main character was so different from Edward that it didn't really help me to understand him.
"Yeah," he nods. "I did a few book signings, even some out of town, but as we got closer to Bree's due date, I was afraid to leave her alone in Chicago.
"And that brings us back to where we started, right? To passing out early one year ago today."
I sit silently for a few moments. I want to ask him for more, but I'm afraid of pushing too far. I need to keep him on more neutral subjects.
"I'm gonna get a refill," he says suddenly. "You want more?"
"Oh, sure." I hand Edward my glass, slipping my shoes off as I make myself more comfortable. He's back just a couple of minutes later, and I take a sip of the fresh wine before beginning.
"So… when did your start on your latest book?"
"When Bree's maternity leave was up, we made the decision that I would quit my job and stay home with Masen. Neither of us could bear to put him in daycare, plus it would give me the opportunity to write full time, since Masen slept so much early on. So it was probably early February when I first had the chance to start typing out the thoughts in my head."
"Wow, a stay-at-home dad!" No wonder he's so good with Masen — months of practice. "Did anyone give you shit about staying home while Bree worked?"
"Not to my face," he says, shaking his head. "But I know some of her coworkers said some things. It was the best decision for us though. Her job paid more than mine, plus I could write a lot faster if my writing time wasn't limited to a couple of hours per day."
"It does make sense," I agree.
Edward suddenly starts tearing at his hair again, gazing over at me with a tortured look on his face. "I wonder—" he breaks off, swallowing thickly. "Do you think if Bree had stayed home, if Masen had spent more time with her, would he remember her?"
I stare at him for a moment, opening and closing my mouth. "My mom left when I was two, and I can't say that I have any memories of her being my mom," I reply carefully. "Sure, I spent two weeks with her during a couple summers, so I remember that, but of her actually raising me? No. So, no, I don't think it would've made any difference with Masen. You can't beat yourself up over it, Edward."
"Thanks," he whispers.
Reaching out, he grabs my hand, tugging lightly until I scoot closer enough that he can put his arm around me. "And thank you again for coming over. After I put Masen to bed, I just felt so alone. I'm alone every night, but… it just felt worse tonight. Like the walls were caving in on me. Like I should be ringing in the New Year with someone else."
"I'm really glad you texted me," I reply, smiling up at him.
"It's not like I have any other friends," he says, winking at me. My smile widens at the idea that he's considering me a friend again.
We sit like that, watching television together, until the clock strikes midnight and the ball drops in Times Square — on tape due to the time zone difference. As the audience begins to sing Auld Lang Syne, the camera focuses on the various couples kissing as they ring in 2017.
I'm startled when Edward suddenly stands, both hands tearing at his hair. "I shouldn't be doing this," he mumbles, mostly to himself I think.
"What's wrong?"
The bang-bang of nearby firecrackers breaks the tension. Before he can answer me, a wail sounds from the baby monitor; the noise woke Masen.
"I need to go to him," Edward says in a raspy voice. "I think I'll go to bed then."
"Sure," I agree quietly. I can take a hint. "I'll, um, just the rinse the glasses and then head out, OK? I, um, had a nice time tonight."
"Goodnight, Bella," he calls, racing up the stairs — and giving me whiplash.
A/N: Much more thawing from Edward, until his mini-freak out at the end! Though he doesn't say it, I think having his family around for a week exposed him to human interaction again, and now he's lonely without it. We got some background on his relationship with Bree, but Bella knew better than to ask him about her death.
Next update on Monday.