Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer.
Beta'd by Marshmellow007
A/N: I needed to do this chapter to move things along in the story a bit. There is some dialogue but a lot of it is Bella telling us about what's happening. Chapter 11 takes us to Edward's birthday.
Chapter 10 – Killing Time
I was sitting at the kitchen table on Monday morning with the Forks Forum newspaper in front of me, searching the classifieds section for local trades who would give me estimates for structural repairs to my house. Jenks had deposited both my monthly allowance of $1,500 and the 'decoration' budget into my bank account, and mailed me the letter of authority as promised. I still hadn't called Jenks and I made a mental note to do that today.
I flipped my notebook open to the list of repairs I'd made nearly two weeks ago. How time flies, I thought – it waits for no woman. I'd been so eager to get started that day but events had conspired against me, keeping me out of action for one reason or another. I thought about Edward who was sitting beside me eating the breakfast he'd helped me cook and feeding me bites of fluffy pancakes because I couldn't use a knife and fork at the same time with my injured hand.
I'd apologized to him last night in his room while we talked and he lazily brushed my hair. I don't know what came over me on the path home last night. I mean, Edward was pretty arrogant at the best of times with his propensity to order people about, but I'd kinda gotten used to it and generally tended to ignore him, but his assumption that I was his girlfriend without him even asking me and then forbidding me to do something he didn't want me to do … well I just saw red – literally.
I've never reacted physically like that before and usually I'm a pretty mellow person; a 'go with the flow' kinda girl. I don't really like confrontation – I never have, but with Edward last night, he just set something off in me that seemed to come out of nowhere and POW! I was letting him have it right in the nose. I cringe when I think about his beautiful nose. Overnight it had swollen to roughly twice its normal size and he had pale purple bruises shadowing his lower eye sockets.
Edwards attitude wasn't the only reason I let fly I concluded at about 2 am this morning. I laid awake for hours last night after Edward finally let me go to bed thinking about where the anger came from and why it was so unreasonable. I think I was able to pinpoint when and why the anger began, but I had no insight in how to deal with it and what to do to make it go away.
Since Wednesday's conversation with Jenks I'd felt … unsettled. That's not really the right word to describe how I feel but I can't put my finger on what the emotion stirring me actually is. I didn't really notice anything happening at first and on Sunday at the meadow, I had no sense of the anger brewing in me at all but whatever the elusive emotion was; it slowly invaded my every cell until it found just the catalyst it needed to erupt. And erupt, I did.
The physical release dissipated some of the pent up emotion, but I could feel it start to build again, now that I recognized it for what it was. It was milder now, but it was still there, squatting like a monster in my gut waiting for the next time.
I sighed. I really did need to see someone; Carlisle was right about that. I wondered whether I could convince Edward to see someone again as well. I think he'd seen someone at VRC before – it was what he'd alluded to when he told me he'd dropped out of a 'program' there. He had his own anger and self-hatred and guilt to deal with and his was even more deeply entrenched than mine was. My anger was six days old; his was six years old and if I felt like I did after only six days, I couldn't begin to imagine how soul-destroying Edward's was.
He'd told me about his twin brother, Robert Patrick Cullen at the meadow yesterday. Last night, he'd confirmed what I already knew, that he hadn't told me everything, but I never expected he would straight off. After all, I haven't told anyone all of my secrets about the crash either.
Edward told me that when he and Robert were eleven years old, Robert had fallen from a height of about twenty feet and broken his neck. He'd died before he even hit the ground so I assumed that whatever he fell from, the fatal injury was inflicted during the fall or before he fell. I asked Edward why he believed Robert's death was his fault and all he'd said was, "it wasn't perfect and because of that, Robert fell."
I ached for Edward. He didn't say anything else and I didn't ask him any further questions, but I thought my insight into his need for perfection was pretty damned perceptive.
'Hmm. Maybe I'd make a good shrink if I couldn't be a writer! Now if I could only shrink myself, I'd be good.'
Edward caught me staring at him and gave me a quizzical 'what?' expression. I just smiled and shook my head 'nothing' at him. Edward was reading the Arts section of the Seattle Times while he ate his breakfast and intermittently fed me from his plate. Every two or three mouthfuls, he'd change forks and cut off a bite of pancakes and feed it to me. I laughed at him silently. He could stuff his tongue down my throat without a care in the world, but he couldn't bear to share his fork with me.
I'd cooked buttermilk banana pancakes which he'd measured and mixed the ingredients for, as I supervised and instructed. It became blatantly apparent after only five minutes of scowling and hair fisting (from me; not him) that Edward didn't like being instructed – big surprise there! Edward liked being the one who was giving the instruction instead. He questioned me constantly and even argued with me over the most efficient way to flip a pancake.
I know with absolute certainty that he didn't know what a chop saw was yesterday evening but I bet if I quizzed him now, he'd know to the nth degree everything there was to know about it that could be learned from the internet! He doesn't believe I know how to use a power tool and he'll do anything he has to – even if it means learning how to use them himself, if it will stop me from using them instead. If only he knew just how accomplished I was; Phil had made damn sure of it before he'd let me help him with any construction work. I might be a clumsy twat standing still, but put a power tool in my hands and I was transformed.
A name in one of the classified ads for general contractors caught my eye – it was familiar to me. Where had I heard or seen that name before? Hmm, Billy Black. It must be a name I knew when I lived here before, but who was it? I felt I should know the name well.
I snapped the fingers of my uninjured hand as recognition dawned – Dad's fishing friend, that's who it was. I think he had a son as well – Jock? Jack? No, Jacob, that's it. Wait, didn't Emmett mention some kid called Jacob Black at my house that Saturday?
"Hey, Emmett?"
"Mmhmm?" he mumbled around the thick pancake he'd folded into quarters and shoved into his mouth.
"Do you know some kid called, Jacob Black?"
Emmett swallowed the lump in his mouth making his Adams Apple bob up and down. "Yup. He's on my football team. Why?"
"Is his dad Billy Black by any chance?"
"Yeah, I think so," he said losing interest in the conversation to shove another folded pancake into his enormous gob. Thank God I wasn't paying the flippin' grocery bill!
"Why do you want to know about Jacob Black, Bella?" demanded Edward with a possessive glower.
I ignored him … well not Edward; just the possessive glower.
I'd decided this morning while making the pancakes, that in order for this relationship of ours to have any chance of success, I'd need to be the bigger person and let slide, all stupid, moronic, idiotic, asinine, anxious, compulsive, possessive, dominant and jealous behavior expressed by Edward in his need to control everything around him and by extension, me!
'Water sliding off a ducks back, that's what I'd be; Edward being the duck!'
I sniggered silently at my analogy. I don't think Edward would be too happy if he knew I'd compared him to a duck.
"I don't," I assured Edward, "but I think Billy Black's his father and he's a general contractor in Forks. He lives in La Push, on the reservation I think, and he was a buddy of my Dad's. Can I borrow your phone please, Edward?" I wanted to call him and see if he'd meet me at the house today. The sooner the repairs began the better.
Edward scowled but handed me his iPhone.
I dialed the number and waited for it to pickup opening my mouth for another forkful of pancake offered by Edward. I almost choked in my haste to swallow when the call was answered and I was expected to respond. Edward rubbed my back between my shoulder blades and frowned at me with concern.
"Ahem. Sorry. Is this Billy Black?"
"No. This is Jacob. Billy's my dad. Is this about a job?" he asked.
"Yes. Could you get him for me please?"
"DAD! PHONE!" yelled the kid into the phone, almost shattering my eardrums.
'Geezus!' I winced, jerking the phone away from my ear. Edward's mouth tightened in irritation – even he'd heard the kid, and he tried to take the phone off me to yell back at him. I swatted his hand away and just ended up hurting myself because I unwittingly used my injured hand.
'OW!' I shot Edward a filthy look.
"Billy Black."
"Oh, hello, Mr Black. I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Bella Swan. Charlie Swan was my Dad."
"Yes, Bella. I remember you, but I'm surprised you remember me. You were just a little girl when you left Forks."
"Sure I remember you, Mr Black," I replied. Edward mouthed 'liar' at me and I motioned him back to his breakfast and newspaper.
"I heard about your mother and her husband, Bella. I'm very sorry for your loss."
"Thank you, Mr Black."
"Please call me Billy; everybody does."
"Okay, thanks, Mr … um, Billy."
"What can I do for you, Bella?"
"I've moved back to Forks, Billy and I'm fixing up Charlie's house so I can live in it."
"Yes, I heard you moved back here, but I thought you were staying out at the Cullen place?"
"I am, but the house needs some repairs. I was wondering if you could give me an estimate?" There was silence on the end of the phone and I thought the connection might have been lost.
"Are you there, Billy?"
"Yes, I'm here, Bella. Ahm, Bella, how is a fifteen year old girl going to pay for the repairs to a house? I don't mean to be rude or pry into your affairs, but you gotta understand that I can't waste my time or do work I won't be paid for."
"That's alright, Billy. I, um, understand. The money isn't a problem and I have a letter of authority from my lawyer," I told him, just a tiny bit irritated.
"Alright, Bella," he said hesitantly, "I can meet you at Charlie's at about 4 o'clock this afternoon. Does that suit you?"
"That's perfect, Billy."
"Alrighty then, see you at four. Oh, and, Bella?"
"Yes?"
"Bring the letter of authority."
"I will. Thanks, Billy. Bye," I said hanging up.
"Problem?" asked Edward, preparing to go into battle for me.
"No, I don't think so. He's going to meet me at Charlie's today at four."
"Us. He's going to meet us!" said Edward firmly.
"Fine. He's going to meet us," I reassured him, shaking my head. He was so protective and he'd been my boyfriend for less than a day.
Jasper only smiled into his plate of pancakes and Carlisle rolled his eyes because Edward had found a new outlet for his OCD tendencies, and answered another crossword question.
"Good morning everyone," sang Esme cheerfully as she entered the kitchen dressed for work in Port Angeles. Alice and Rosalie brought up the rear.
"Bella, did you cook again?" Esme chided.
"Yes, but Edward helped," I told her quickly. Like Edward had yesterday, Esme had already scolded me for doing so much of the cooking when there were seven other people in the house (including her) all capable of cooking if they could be bothered to learn.
"Is there any left for us?" asked Alice, sitting down beside Jasper. He gave her a taste of his food sharing his fork with her.
"Yes," I told her, "there's a plate of pancakes in the warming oven I saved for you."
Emmett stared accusingly at me like I'd stolen his last toy.
"Thanks, Bella," she said going to the oven.
Rosalie sat down beside Emmett and peered at his rapidly disappearing breakfast with an expression of covetous envy. Alice had told me that Rosalie was on a diet to lose three pounds before July 4th so she could wear some new bikini she'd bought online from Paris. Apparently the suit she'd fallen in love with was only available in a size 4 and she was a size 6 so the top wouldn't stretch across her boobs.
She was a bit of a cranky-pants because she wasn't eating and Carlisle was cranky on her because he disapproved of her dieting when she was already on the lower end of the weight scale for her age and height. Emmett was like me; water off a ducks back except in their case he was the water and Rosalie was the duck.
"Hey, Bella, what's this smaller plate of pancakes for?"
"It's for Rosalie," I replied, looking at Rosalie shyly.
Rosalie shot me a scathing look and I flushed and looked down at the newspaper. My attempt to extend the hand of friendship looked like a waste of time.
"I'm on a diet, Bella," she hissed. "Everybody knows that!"
Carlisle frowned at the verbal reminder (silly girl) and Esme tutted in disapproval. Edward glared irritatedly at Rosalie. He'd told me not to bother while we were mixing the batter; that Rosalie wouldn't appreciate the thought or the effort. He cast me an, 'I told you so' look and I was tempted to poke my tongue out at him but I resisted.
"Don't be a cow, Rosalie," Edward snarled at her. "Bella made those especially for you because she knows you're dieting and she wanted to do something nice for you."
"Watch it with the name calling, Cracker!" she snarled back at him.
'Cracker?' I must have had a quizzical expression on my face because Alice explained.
"A reference to Edward's coppery hair and his temper," she said.
"Ah."
Edward growled. He obviously didn't appreciate the moniker.
"Um, it's only three points, Rosalie, four if you have it with the fruit and yoghurt topping," I told her and she eyed the plate with renewed interest.
"Ooohh, low calorie," trilled Alice happily, "I'll take them if Rosalie doesn't want them," she offered reaching for the plate.
"Back-off, Pixie," snarled Rosalie. "Four points you say, Bella?"
"Yep, only four points."
I could see by Rosalie's expression that she was torn between refusing them on principle, because I made them and she didn't want to have to thank me, and accepting them because she was starving.
"Thank you, Bella. That was very thoughtful of you," she eventually said (though it killed her to say it) and she took the plate away from Alice. I nodded in acknowledgment and let her eat in peace.
…
I spent the day with Alice going over her ideas for the house while Edward went to Port Angeles to practice the piano. He'd kissed me goodbye in the foyer by the stairs like he was leaving for a year instead of a few hours. My lips were puffy and tender when he finally let me go; not that I'm complaining you understand. I was going to talk to him about getting a piano at home again and I wondered where his piano from six years ago was. If I knew anything about Esme and Carlisle, I'd guess that the piano was in storage somewhere just waiting for Edward to decide he wanted to play it again.
Alice set us up in the dining room spreading over the long table, the hundreds of fabric samples, paint chips and wallpaper samples she'd collected from either the internet or from stores in Forks and Port Angeles. Alice made me take her to the house early last week so she could walk the rooms and get a feel for the place, take measurements and photographs. I was simply stunned at how much she'd achieved in less than two weeks. Give Alice a task and she went all out, that was certain. We sorted through the samples making a small pile for each room of the house, adding and replacing until I was happy with the overall theme and color scheme the rooms would have.
Alice had also made some sketches that were meticulously drawn to scale and which included all doors and windows as well as suggestions for furniture placement to ensure the best use of space and to encourage a pleasing flow in and between each of the rooms. A photograph of each room was tacked to the corner of each sketch and she'd even noted the placement of light switches, power points and light fixtures. The girl was amazing! Esme was right – she would make a fabulous designer and decorator and I told her so. Alice blushed but looked pleased.
"Alice, what you've already done for me is amazing," I told her. "You must have spent hours of your time on this project," I said to her but I made it sound like a question.
"Yes, but Bella, I've loved every moment of it," Alice gushed excitedly. "I never realized how satisfying it was to design a room. It's almost better than shopping for clothes!"
I laughed. I didn't believe that for a minute, not where Alice was concerned.
"Well, you really do have good taste and you've selected colors and fabrics that I really like. Your perception is uncanny."
She shrugged and blushed prettily. "I think it's just instinct. Sometimes I can look at someone and just know certain things about them, like what colors they look good in, what style and cut of clothing they should wear, how a different hairstyle or makeup application would look. I just … translated that instinct into decorating and Voila! – Bella's house is born," she said a little self-consciously.
"Alice, can you come with Edward and me to my house today at four?"
"Sure, Bella. What's going on at your house today?"
"Billy Black is a general contractor and he's going to come and look at the house; hopefully give me some estimates on how much the repairs will cost and how long they'll take. You should meet him as you're the project manager, so you'll probably be communicating with him at least as much as me."
"Okay. Um, you know, Bella, you should really think about getting your driver license," Alice suggested out of the blue, "you're going to be sixteen in three months."
"Hmm, maybe," I said unsure, "I'm not sure that I want to learn to drive," I told her.
"Why not?" she asked with genuine shock.
"Um, the accident, it kinda made me nervous about it even though I wasn't driving the car."
"I'm sure it did, Bella," Alice said, gently touching my hand. "But you shouldn't let your fears rule your life, otherwise you'll never take any chances and you might never know what you're missing out on. Learning to drive will give you so much more freedom; you won't need to rely upon others to drive you around or use public transport."
"Yeah, I suppose so," I told her noncommittally, while nibbling on my lip.
"Just think about it, okay?" she made me promise.
I swallowed and nodded, and Alice changed the subject.
"So Bella, you and Edward, huh?" she asked with a big grin. I blushed.
"Yeah."
"I gotta say, Bella, that we're all pretty surprised. We had no idea you and Edward were that close," she said, fishing for information.
I squirmed. "Um, yeah, I mean no … um, I mean we've been getting to know each other and at the meadow yesterday … well it just happened," I said ambiguously.
She leaned forwarded eagerly. "What just happened?"
"Um, we kissed. I mean, Edward asked if he could kiss me and I said yes, and then we were kissing each other," I told her hurriedly, blushing furiously; I could feel heat suffuse the skin of my face.
"Ooohh!" squealed Alice. "So when did he ask you to be his girlfriend and how come you punched him when he did?" she asked me avidly.
"Well he didn't – ask me that is – he pretty much just assumed I was his girlfriend and then he told me," I said.
"He told you?" she repeated, aghast. I nodded. "Hmm! What guy just tells a girl that she's his girlfriend without asking?" she mused.
"That's what I said!" I told Alice, emphatically. "Then he opened his mouth and said a few other things I reckon he wishes he hadn't and then POW! – I was punching him in the nose before I knew what I was doing and before Edward could get out of the way," I relayed to her with a giggle having a 'girlfriend' moment with Alice.
Alice giggled with me. "Well his face is certainly colorful this morning and his nose looks like a light globe, it's so swollen and red," she said with a hint of sibling maliciousness in her tone. "I don't think he'll be doing that again."
I sighed. "Yes he will, Alice. This is Edward we're talking about, remember!"
She laughed and it sounded like a bell. "Yeah, you're absolutely right, Bella. Edward will find himself back in the dog house again and probably a lot sooner than he thinks. Can I watch next-time?" she asked gleefully, and I wasn't entirely sure she wasn't serious. I didn't answer her question, asking her one instead.
"Alice, when is Edward's birthday?"
She sent me a brief but worried look before she looked away to begin filtering through the samples in an evasive tactic I recognized well, because it was one I often used.
What was so bad about Edward's birthday? "Alice?"
"Oh, yes. Uh, it's this Sunday."
"The twentieth?" I confirmed.
"Yes," she said.
"What will the family do to celebrate?" I was already thinking about a cake and a gift for him.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" I repeated, in disbelief.
"Nothing," she confirmed. "Edward doesn't like to celebrate his birthday."
'Hmm. That sounded like me!'
"Why?" I asked her, carefully watching her face for any tell-tale signs of worry or evasiveness. I could only think of one reason why Edward wouldn't like to celebrate his birthday.
"Edward's birthday … it's not a day he care's to remember much about," said Alice carefully.
I was silent for a moment. "Alice, does Edward's dislike of his birthday have something to do with Robert?" I asked softly.
Alice looked at me sharply, obviously shocked. "Bella, what … what do you know about Robert. Who told you?"
"Edward told me that Robert was his twin and that he died when they we're eleven. He didn't say much more, other than Robert fell and broke his … " I trailed off. The sentence didn't need to be completed. Alice knew what I would say.
Alice gulped and looked gut-wrenchingly sad; not an emotion I'd ever seen her express before.
"Alice, what's wrong?" I asked her as a tear trickled down her smooth cheek. She swiped at her face with her slender fingers and sniffed.
"Bella, Robert died on his and Edward's eleventh birthday," she whispered.
Oh God! I felt sick. "Alice, I'm so sorry. I had no idea," I told her.
She nodded. "So you see why Edward doesn't want to celebrate his birthday. I must admit that it's hard for the rest of us as well. Not Rosalie and Jasper, they didn't know Robert – they hadn't come to live with us then, but the rest of the family – for us, the 20th of June six years ago was a hellish day," she whispered, her eyes unfocused as she remembered.
"It started out so happy," she whispered.
"Mom and Dad had built a small studio for the boys so they could get them out of the garage and let the cars back in. It was away from the house, where they could 'jam' to their hearts content and not disturb us or the neighbors. They were both very musical and so very, very talented," she recalled. "They'd play impromptu concerts for us all the time," she said, lost in her memories.
I could believe they were talented, especially Edward, as I'd heard his piano music once before on his iPod.
"Edward used to have this old upright piano that once to belonged to Grandma – Mom's mother, and Robert had the acoustic guitar he got when he first started to learn to play. Even the friends they gravitated toward were musically inclined," she remembered with a light laugh.
"They had a friend who was a drummer, Garrett and another who played the trumpet, Peter. They all bonded in music class in elementary school. The four of them – these kids who were only nine and ten years old, would practice in the garage all hours of the day and into the early evening when Mom and Dad would let them and as long as the neighbors didn't complain," she told me.
Alice took a deep breath before continuing her story.
"Dad's brother Randall was an architect and he designed the studio for us. It wasn't very big in terms of square footage but its ceiling height was double volume to take advantage of the acoustic benefits. Dad and Randall decided to build a roof deck on it with a wooden railing around it. The studio was built amongst the trees in the back garden so they thought it would be a nice place to hang out and relax or read in the Summer. Dad hired a contractor to build the studio and sound-proof it, but he and Randall decided to tackle the roof deck themselves and they let Edward and Robert help."
"They got it all finished about a week before Robert and Edward's birthday and the boys moved in their musical instruments and other paraphernalia. During the following week there were a couple of really bad storms in Chicago with extremely high winds that buffeted the city for hours. A lot of buildings and city infrastructure took a beating and suffered storm damage but our property seemed to have been lucky. There was no serious damage to the house and the studio looked fine."
"What happened on their birthday?" I asked gently.
"They had a party and the boys and their friends played for us all in the new studio at the end of the afternoon – everyone had a great time. After their friends left, Robert and Edward went up to the roof deck for a bit of 'chill' time, they said. Edward took his portable keyboard with him and Robert had his acoustic guitar. They were belting out 'Born to be Wild' and Robert was really into it, jumping around and rocking back and forth on his feet like a rock star, generally just hamming it up."
"Then what happened?" I prompted her quietly, when she was silent for a long moment, lost in her thoughts.
"Robert jumped back as he finished the last riff, landing hard against the railing." Alice made a sound like a hiccoughing sob before continuing, "It just collapsed outward, Bella, and Robert hit the base of his skull on a tree branch as he fell. Edward blamed himself because he helped Uncle Randall to screw in that part of the railing system, but it wasn't their fault – the bolts were defective and the high winds had loosened the railing," she said, wiping her eyes.
I could see even after six years, talking about the accident and Robert's death still upset her.
"Edward took it hard, but it wasn't his fault, Bella. He blames himself; he says that if the railing had been perfect, Robert would still be alive. But it was an accident, Bella; just an awful bloody accident," she said with feeling.
My heart fractured a little for Edward and the rest of the Cullen's pain. I know exactly how they all feel.
"I'm so sorry, Alice. It must have been horrible for all of you but especially for Edward because Robert was his twin and he died on their birthday," I condoled. "It's … hard to let the memories fade," I said softly, "when you have a constant reminder like a birthday that is shared with such a tragic event."
We were both silent for a long while thinking our own private thoughts.
"Alice?"
"Yes?"
"The accident that killed my Mom and Phil?" She nodded.
"It was my fifteenth birthday," I told her quietly, twisting a scrap piece of fabric I held in my hands.
She stared at me, clearly stunned that my and Edward's tragedies were so closely tied by that one special day.
"They died on my birthday as we were driving home from dinner at an Italian restaurant; and my Dad – he died on New Years Eve the year I turned eleven. I got the call at five minutes to midnight," I shared with her. "My birthday and News Year Eve will never really be happy occasions for me so I know just how Edward feels about celebrations."
"Oh, Bella, you do have a lot in common with my brother, don't you?" she said sadly, hugging me.
…
"Hey, Esme," I greeted as I walked out onto the back porch where she was having a cup of tea.
She'd finished up early in Port Angeles, so come home rather than hang around town for the rest of the day. I was waiting for Edward to come back to collect Alice and I, so we could go to my house and I wanted to ask Esme's opinion on something. I debated whether to say something to her about Robert and the coming Sunday but I decided it against it. Now wasn't the right time.
"Hello, Bella. Did you have a good day?"
"I did actually. Esme have you seen what Alice has come up with for my house?" I asked her. "It's fantastic – she really is talented," I complimented her daughter.
Esme grinned. "I have and I know," she agreed.
I chewed on my lip, not quite sure how to broach what I wanted to talk about. "Esme, I'd like to pay Alice for her work," I said in a rush.
Esme sat up straighter in her chair. "Bella, I think that's very generous of you. Have you spoken to Alice about this?"
I shook my head. "No. I wanted to ask you what a fair commission would be for this type of work before I said anything to her. She is throwing her all into it and I feel kinda guilty that she has to spend the summer without her credit card," I confessed to Esme. "I think she deserves to be paid for her hard work and dedication."
Esme blushed at the reminder. We still hadn't talked about how I hurt my knee and I was pretty certain Esme knew I'd slipped on her forgotten lime wedge. I felt guilty at alluding to it now, because I didn't want Esme to blame herself for my perpetual clumsiness.
"Bella, about your knee …" she began, before I gently cut her off.
"Esme, please. It was an accident. It's no one's fault and I shouldn't have encouraged Alice to withhold information for my benefit. Please ..." I trailed off beseechingly. Esme nodded, and then leaned forward to hug me.
"Okay, Bella. Now let's talk about a fair commission rate for Alice. My usual rate as a trained professional is anywhere from 5% to 15% of the total budget. Sometimes I work for an hourly rate or a set fee for smaller jobs or return customers. Alice is untrained but the work she's doing for you is excellent experience for her if she wants a career in design. I think that 2% of your total budget spend would be a fair commission over the course of the project."
We talked about my total budget including structural repairs and how and when I should make commission payments to Alice. Esme offered to help me with the legal and tax side of the arrangement and she also promised us the use of her trade discount card so we could get significant reductions on purchases, including furniture. I decided to tell Alice later on when we were alone as Edward was presently coasting up the driveway. I stood up and poked my head in the door to the kitchen.
"ALICE?" I yelled.
"WHAT?"
"EDWARD'S HERE!"
"I'LL BE RIGHT DOWN!"
I sat back down opposite Esme who was glaring at me. "What is wrong with you kids? Do none of you know how to use the blasted intercom?" she said putting her teacup down on its saucer with an irritated clatter.
"Sorry, Esme," I said, contrite. "Bad habit," I explained, shrugging.
"You've only been here two weeks!" she responded.
…
Edward made both Alice and me wipe our feet before getting into his car because he'd stopped and had it cleaned and detailed before coming home from Port Angeles. Alice rolled her eyes in exasperation and I smiled, but we did as he asked before sliding into the immaculately clean car.
"Keep all your crap in your bag, Alice," barked Edward testily as he climbed behind the wheel.
She poked her tongue out at his back but put her sketch pad and pencils back in the satchel she carried. He saw her response in the rear-view mirror and scowled but put the car in drive and reached over the center console to take hold of my hand. I smiled shyly at him and he held it that way the whole way into town. We pulled up in front of my house a few minutes before the agreed meeting time but Billy hadn't arrived yet. Alice asked for the house keys so she could go inside and Edward and I stayed in the car.
"Come here, Beautiful," he said pulling me toward him. He met me halfway and let go of my hand to cup my face with his large ones, stroking his thumbs over my cheekbones. He kissed me gently at first, then more thoroughly. I tried to mind his nose so I wouldn't incidentally knock it with my own, but it was just in the way being twice its normal size. He hissed in pain a few times before he drew back.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
His eyebrows scrunched into a V and he shook his head at me. "Not your fault," he said. "I want to try something," he told me, holding my face up gently and firmly angled my head to the side slightly. "Don't move," he ordered with a smirk. I smirked back at him wondering what he had in mind.
I found out a few seconds later as his mouth descended upon mine again, his head angled away from me so our noses wouldn't collide. I held very still as he moved his mouth against mine, only moving my mouth against his – I didn't suppose he meant that I shouldn't move my mouth, just not my head. We kissed like that until a truck pulled up in front of us and we broke apart. Thank goodness the late afternoon was drizzly because our passion had fogged up the windows giving us some semblance of privacy.
Edward got out of the car and came around to open my door for me and help me from the car. A tall man of Native American descent climbed from the truck and a young man about Emmett's age got out of the passenger side. He was very muscular and a couple of inches taller than Billy who I assumed was his dad because they shared similar features and mannerisms in the way they stood and held their hats.
This must be Jacob Black. He was eying me like I was a cream cake he wanted to consume and he licked his lips making me feel instantly uncomfortable. I swallowed and looked away from him, focusing my attention on Billy instead. Edward noticed and growled low at Jacob, aggravated by his audacious behavior. Frankly, I was aggravated as well – we hadn't even been introduced yet! I hoped he wouldn't be working on my house with his dad because that would be a deal-breaker for me and by the look of Edward's infuriated visage, for him as well.
Billy walked toward Edward and I as Jacob brought up the rear with an insolent look on his face looking me up and down from head to toe. I squirmed and wished I hadn't worn the tight jeans I had on – I'd worn them for Edward's benefit. Jacob took note of Edward's arm around my waist and he sneered.
"Bella? I'm Billy Black," he said respectfully, introducing himself and holding out his hand in greeting.
I placed my hand in his large grasp. "Hi, Billy. It's nice to meet you again. It's been a long time," I said by way of a conversation opener.
"Yes. It certainly has. You were just a little kid with pigtails when I last saw you," he told me with a chuckle. "You've certainly grown into a lovely young lady," he complimented me. Jacob coughed behind his father, drawing his attention. Obvious much!
"Oh, Bella, this is my son, Jacob. He'll be going to school with you in the Fall."
"Hello," I said, keeping my hand in my pocket. "This is my boyfriend, Edward Cullen," I told them. I vaguely remembered Jacob as a kid not that I ever hung around with him or anything. I don't remember him being such a twerp though. Alice chose that moment to come bounding down the front steps to meet the Black's.
"Hi, I'm Alice," she said introducing herself. "I'm helping Bella with the house," she told them straight off the bat. No mucking around with this girl. I loved her!
"Okay, so let's get started," Alice said briskly, noting Jacob's inappropriate appraisal of me. Edward kept up a low growl of warning beside me and he bared his teeth at Jacob at one point when Billy wasn't looking. Jacob smirked but didn't back down. Jacob was gonna be a big problem – I hoped he wasn't going to be in any of my classes when we went back to school.
We collectively walked over to stand in front of my house; the drizzle had abated but the air was thick with moisture. I nodded at Alice and she took over the interview, discussing with Billy all of the things we'd already noted about the house's general condition. Jacob sidled up beside me and Edward moved me away so he was between me and Jacob.
"Scared she might like me better?" he taunted Edward under his breath.
"Not on your life, Black!" he snarled, shoving him in the gut with his forearm to push him away.
Jacob stumbled back a step but didn't back off. "What happened to your face, pretty boy?" he sneered. "Did you piss somebody off with your 'perfectionist' ways?" he laughed snidely.
I thought he was an ugly boy; not in appearance but in character. Edward's mouth tightened in fury and his fists clenched. I tensed and placed my injured hand on his forearm to calm him. Edward looked at me and I shook my head at him infinitesimally, my eyes pleading with him to let it go. Jacob noticed.
"Taking orders from the little girlfriend, are you, Cullen?" he scoffed. "That's a change!"
Edward stiffened. "Fuck off, Black," he hissed quietly.
"Or you'll what?" Jacob responded rashly.
Edward leaned in and snarled at him. "Or I'll finish what you started before school finished for the summer," he promised him, "and this time, I might even involve the sheriff," he threatened quietly.
"Sheriff's my cousin," Jacob retaliated. "He's not gonna do nothin' about it 'cept maybe arrest you when I press charges against you for assault," he bragged arrogantly.
"The sheriff is a sworn law enforcement officer," Edward said, "and the Chief of Police. He has to uphold the law and protect the innocent regardless of who his relatives are. How do you think he'll feel, Black, when I tell him about your extra-curricular activities?"
"You've got no proof, Cullen, or you woulda used it by now!" he jeered, but he was beginning to look worried, I noticed.
"I've got plenty of proof, Black and I'm not afraid to use it. Now, you stay away from me, you stay away from Bella and you stay away from my family. Do you understand me?" Edward warned him.
"Fuck you, Cullen," replied Jacob as he swung away. "DAD," he yelled, "I'm going over to Embry's," he said, storming off.
"Be home by curfew, Jacob," was all Billy said, as he continued his conversation with Alice, looking completely befuddled by the bossy pixie of a girl in front of him.
I chuckled, then turned to ask Edward about Jacob. He was staring lividly at Jacob's departing back as he jogged down the street.
"Edward, what was that all about?" I asked him.
"Stay away from him, Bella," he ordered peering at me intently. His eyes shone with a mix of worry and anger.
I nodded. "Alright, I will, but what was that all about? What evidence to you have against him, and what about?"
"He's trouble, Bella, big trouble. Trouble that Billy Black doesn't deserve," Edward said through clenched teeth.
I raised my brow and waited for a more satisfying explanation. Edward huffed and rolled his eyes, a habit he seemed to have picked up from me, rather like my newly acquired habit from him, of yelling through the house to get someone's attention.
"He's a drug dealer, Bella."
I gasped. "What evidence do you have on him?" I asked worriedly, wondering if Edward had bought drugs from him. My expression must have spoken volumes because Edward huffed and put his arms about me hugging me.
"No, nothing like that, Bella. But he did take advantage of someone I care about and I don't forgive lightly. Promise me you'll stay away from him and tell me immediately if he bothers you," he said insistently.
I nodded. "I promise," I whispered. "It wasn't one of us was it?"
"Who?" he asked, confused.
"The person you said you care about that Jacob took advantage of … was it one of your brothers and sisters?"
He smiled because I'd referred to myself as a Cullen when I used 'us' before. "No, Bella. But he's a sheep in wolfs clothing and he's very good at manipulation. He'll make you think this altercation was something else entirely."
"I don't like him, Edward. You don't have to worry about me. I won't be going anywhere near him if I can help it," I promised him just as Alice waved us over to join her and Billy inside the house.
Alice and I spoke with Billy at length about the structural repairs required to the inside of the house while Edward stood in the foyer and brooded. Alice shot me a questioning look and I indicated silently that I'd fill her in later. We walked through the house then decided that Billy would give us an estimate to repair the stair banister and the damaged plaster ceilings as well as to refurbish the existing kitchen using the original cabinets – new doors, counter top and tile installation would be included. I asked about installing some cabinetry in the laundry and refurbishing the bathrooms.
We agreed on new toilets and tap fittings and a repair and re-grout of the tile. Alice and I would source all of the cosmetic fittings and have them delivered to the house. Billy would arrange for a local electrician and plumber and he said he could refinish the timber floors on the lower level as well and I decided on carpet for the upstairs hallway and bedrooms because it was warmer underfoot. The remaining renovation tasks like cleaning and painting would be done by all of us. Alice already had a schedule of works drawn up, which would begin tomorrow after breakfast.
Billy indicated that the exterior of the house was in reasonable condition but the roof probably needed some repair to make it water tight and it needed new gutters and down spouts. Some of the siding needed replacing close to the foundation and it was in desperate need of a new coat of paint. The garage was dry and he said I could use it if I wanted to. He agreed to come back the next day with his ladder so he could get on the roof and have a good look around then send me an estimate by the end of the week. Alice and I thanked him and walked him out.
Edward was standing stock still in the middle of the foyer lost in thought and he didn't react when I walked right up to him.
"Edward," I said quietly, taking hold of his hand to get his attention.
"Huh?" he startled, looking down at me.
"We can go, Edward. We're finished and Billy left."
"Okay, Baby," he replied, kissing my forehead. "Let's go," he said leading us from the house and locking the door behind Alice.
"Baby?" Alice mouthed silently to me.
I shrugged but I was kinda pleased; I liked the affectionate nickname he'd called me. Edward drove us home but was quiet in the car. He held my hand again, somewhat more firmly than he did on the drive to my house and I could tell he was worried about Jacob Black. I tried to reassure him by placing my hand on his leg above his knee and giving it a little squeeze. He shuddered in reaction and I grinned.
…
By 9 o'clock on Wednesday morning, Edward was once again driving me to Port Angeles for my weekly therapy sessions with Jane and Felix. I had been religiously practicing my speech exercises and I felt there was an improvement in my enunciation. It was subtle, but I'm positive I wasn't imagining it. I wondered why Edward hadn't asked me about the speech therapy yet and I decided I needed to tell him about my injuries. As my boyfriend, he deserved to know.
Edward drove fast but expertly down highway 101. All of the Cullen's were expert drivers and they all drove fast, except for Esme who followed the posted speed limit. I studied Edward's face in profile noting with relief that the swelling in his nose had started to subside (thank goodness) and the bruises under his eyes were beginning to fade.
Edward was relieved beyond belief that Billy would be taking care of all of the major work at the house and I wouldn't be using any 'stinking chop saw'. His words; not mine. I still needed other tools like a cordless drill, sander and router but they were less lethal than the chop saw so he restrained himself and didn't comment; much!
Alice had us all at my house yesterday morning at 8 o'clock. She handed out work assignments and Edward threw something of a tantrum when she gave him his. He had to clean the master ensuite bathroom. He yelled that the room was a bio-hazard of toxic waste and he wasn't touching it under pain of death. I swapped assignments with him because Alice was just being evil and he cleaned the bedroom out instead.
I drove into the Forks town center with Emmett so we could hire a trailer to take the rubbish to the dump and bring home the furniture that needed refinishing (Rosalie was going to let me use her workshop in the garage). Emmett leased the trailer because he was eighteen and I paid for it. We had it for three days then it had to go back. The three guys spent most of the day dragging rubbish, broken furniture and old carpet out of the house. They made four trips to the dump before it was ready to load with the furniture I'd marked as 'keeping'.
There wasn't much of Charlie's possessions worth keeping; most of it was lost beyond all repair but I did save the old kitchen table and the side board in the dining room as well as an old cast iron bed from the third bedroom upstairs.
Rosalie declared the fridge in decent working order if somewhat disgusting but she said the dishwasher and the dryer were both cactus and would need to be chucked out. The washing machine needed a new drum belt and a good clean, but otherwise it was fine to use. I'd decided on a new stove because the other one was simply disgusting beyond anything I could explain. I won't tell you what was crawling around inside it.
I was exhausted after cleaning the ensuite bathroom one-handed and the toilet almost made me spew. I gagged repeatedly over the newly cleaned basin fortifying myself to tackle it again. I poured an entire bottle of toilet cleaner in it and closed the lid coming back to it in an hour. Alice girded her loins and tackled the family bathroom upstairs. It was just as bad as the ensuite and I met her in the hallway where she was breathing deeply and looking green around the gills.
"That toilet is the most disgusting thing I've ever seen or smelled," she gasped.
"I know. I dumped an entire bottle of toilet cleaner in mine," I told her, commiserating with her.
Anyone who would clean a toilet like one of these in a house they'd never lived in, was a true friend. Alice was going to earn every cent of her commission. She was thrilled when I told her about it and said she'd love me forever. I only smiled and told her that she'd already earned it and she was getting a bonus for the toilet. Thankfully, we were installing new ones, but I couldn't ask Billy to take out the toilets in their current condition and we needed something we could use ourselves until then.
Alice sent Jasper and Emmett back to the house today to wash grime off the walls and ceiling so they could be repaired and prepared for painting. Rosalie drove into Port Angeles for the parts she needed to repair the appliances and I gave her some cash to cover gas and the cost of the stuff she needed. Alice was at home, sourcing well-priced carpet, tile and other fittings for the house. I told her about a website called Etsy that show-cased cottage workers who made things like cushion covers and curtains using a lot of the fabric's we'd chosen. She promised to check it out and she was completely captivated by the Ikea website when Edward and I left this morning.
Edward walked me inside VRC and kissed me goodbye as Jane came out to greet me. He promised to be back in two hours and went to practice piano. Jane confirmed that my enunciation was improved and encouraged me to continue with my exercises. I told her about what happened last Wednesday afternoon and how my reaction affected my speech. I didn't remember that, but Edward told me about it so I could tell Jane.
"I know it's distressing, Bella, but you knew this might happen if you became stressed or upset."
I nodded but it didn't make me feel any less embarrassed or self-conscious.
"How long was it before you could speak clearly again?" she asked with her pen poised over my chart, prepared to take more notes.
"Um, about two hours all together, I think," I told her, "but I was unconscious for an hour of it so I don't know if that counts," I quantified hopefully.
"Could you speak when you regained consciousness?"
"Yes, after a few words – my throat was sore and scratchy." She scribbled some more comments.
"Bella, can I call Carlisle for an update?" she asked my permission, and I nodded.
My session with Felix went well and he commented on the definition I'd developed in my calf muscles. The scar wasn't any less angry looking but it was softer from all of the Bio Oil I'd been applying. I told him I'd been using the stairs at home as much as possible and walking everyday as well as doing the prescribed exercises. He praised me and then scolded me because I hadn't taken up swimming yet like he'd suggested. I promised him that I would look into over the next week. I'd noticed the Aquatic Center in Forks when Emmett and I went to get the trailer yesterday so I had no excuse not to go.
…
I was waiting for Edward to arrive when my phone rang. It was Jenks returning my call. I answered and immediately launched into an apology.
"There's no need, Bella. I understand that finding out about your parents Wills is upsetting, especially for a woman as young as you are after the year you've had," he said.
He paused. "That young man of yours is certainly a lion isn't he?" he commented.
"What do you mean?" I asked him, confused.
"Well he was very angry and rather distressed himself when he collected you last week. He was rather … volatile in his defense of you," he told me, then chuckled. "I had to take him to task over it. I don't think that's happened to him before," he noted incisively.
I gulped. "Wha … what did he say to you?" I gasped. "I'm so sorry, Jenks ..."
"Don't you worry, Bella. I like a young man that defends his friends. Now, did you receive the letter and the funds we talked about?" he asked, closing the subject.
"Yes, thank you, Jenks. I've arranged with a local contractor in Forks to give me an estimate for the structural repairs. He's also going to estimate on the most pressing repairs inside the house. I'll send it to you next week," I told him.
We talked for a few more minutes before I rang off as I saw Edward's car pull up outside the main doors. I walked outside and he opened my door for me, kissing me tenderly before handing me into the passenger seat.
"Where would you like to go for lunch?" he asked me as he drove out onto the street.
"Esme told me about a place on east First Street," I told him. "It's called 'Cafe Garden'. Can we go there?"
"Coming right up," he agreed, reaching for my hand to hold it on the center console again. He held our hands there for a minute, and then moved them so my hand was resting on his leg near his knee like I'd done on Monday. I moved my fingers lightly over the inner seam of his jeans and smiled when he hissed but I didn't remove my hand.
Over our wonderful lunch of Shrimp and Basil Linguine and the House Spinach Salad, I asked Edward about his 'discussion' with Jenks last week. He flushed and fidgeted in his seat and stuttered out an explanation, but I let him off the hook and told him that Jenks was pleased that he'd defended me so well.
"Um, Bella?" said Edward hesitantly, over our coffee and dessert of shared chocolate cake.
"Hmm?" I responded distractedly, savoring the rich chocolaty confection.
"I'd like to take you to the auditorium this afternoon," he said a little shyly.
I swallowed hard, the cake suddenly a lump in my mouth and throat. He was going to play for me. I nodded eagerly and grinned at him, so happy that he was willing to play for me in person.
He laughed. "I gather from your reaction, that you're pleased?"
"Ah, yeah!"
"Okay, finish up and we'll go," he said, forking off a piece of cake and dipping it into the whipped cream on the side of the plate. He ate two pieces, tasting it thoroughly, then told me it was good but not as good as the one I'd made for us on Sunday. I blushed and sipped at my coffee to hide my face.
…
The auditorium at the community college was large and well appointed for a population of around nineteen thousand people. Edward held my hand and led me down the aisle between the rows of seats looking upon the stage. In the middle of the stage was a grand piano. Its lid was open and the stage lights were on, spotlighting the instrument. Edward seated me in the front row where I could see him and he could see me. I kissed him gently on the lips for luck as he straightened and walked up the stairs to the stage removing his jacket and placing it over the back of a chair. I could see he was nervous and he blew out a deep breath as he sat before the large piano.
Edward began his concert for an audience of one with Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata playing the notes with artistry and precision. Though I was no connoisseur of piano music, I thought his playing was beautiful and he segued into Elton John's 'Can you feel the love tonight' from the Lion King which brought me to tears of joy. The Lion King was my favorite movie when I was a little girl. I was only a baby when it was first released in the cinema's but Dad got it for me on video when I was about five years old and I nearly wore it out I watched it so often.
When he'd played the last notes, I stood up and went to him as fast as I could up onto the stage. I still couldn't run, but I could walk fast. He turned on the piano bench as I reached him, pulling me between his parted legs. He held me close to his chest as I hugged him tightly.
"What's wrong?" he whispered, when he noticed my tears.
"Nothing," I sniffed. "That was so beautiful, Edward, you are so talented. Please get a piano at home," I rushed out without thinking.
He stiffened and pushed me away slightly with a frown of irritation on his face.
"No!" he almost yelled, then softened his expression and his voice. "It's too soon, Bella. Not yet," he pleaded with me.
"I'm sorry, Edward. I didn't mean to push you. I just want everyone to hear what I do when you play," I explained, kissing him on his mouth in apology.
"I know, Baby and I thank you for it. Um, I made you something," he said pulling a CD from his jacket on the chair beside him. He pulled me onto his lap and handed it to me. "It's, um, a selection of songs I recorded for you including these two and the one I'm about to play for you," he told me shyly.
"I love it, Edward. It's the best present you could have ever given me," I told him honestly.
I held my injured hand against his face and bent down to kiss him, nibbling on his top lip until he opened his mouth and he let me slide my tongue inside. He met me halfway and tangled his tongue with mine deepening our kiss until I was panting. Wow! You'd never guess that on Sunday I'd never been kissed before. A few hours of Edward's tutelage and I was a flaming pro at it. Edward moaned low in his throat and shifted me onto the bench beside him and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. He stood up and adjusted his pants slightly in front. I grinned. I wasn't ready to take that step with Edward yet, but I kinda liked the reaction I had on him.
Edward began the opening chords to Debussy's 'Claire de Lune', playing the hauntingly beautiful music without looking at the sheet music on the stand. He watched me the entire time he played, staring into my eyes while his knowing fingers pressed the keys, producing the notes perfectly. I was totally lost in his deep emerald green gaze. There was something indefinable shining from them as he looked upon me, something I couldn't yet name; until the end.
As he played the final chords, about three things I was absolutely certain.
First, Edward was totally in love with me – his eyes couldn't lie.
Second, there was a part of him – that was getting stronger every day, that ached to play the piano again without the stigma of guilt and anger in his heart.
And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Edward Anthony Cullen and I didn't ever want to give him up.
…
A/N: Please review. They keep me writing.
Go to my blog (the link to my website is on my profile page) for photos from this chapter including an image of how I imagine Edward and Robert looked at 11 years old. I have also uploaded some music (it was the best I could find) – Moonlight Sonata, Can you feel the love tonight and Claire de Lune.
A 2% commission on a total reno budget of $40,000 is $800. That's not a bad income in my book for a just turned 17 year-old girl with absolutely no experience.
Etsy is a real website and it's worth checking out if you want soft furnishings or other handmade items, but buy at your own risk as you are not buying from Etsy. I live in Australia and I bought all of my curtains and pillow-cushion covers from the US and Canada. The workmanship was excellent and the items were well priced even with the shipping cost. The website is: www dot etsy dot com
Another good site is: www dot bemz dot com based in Europe. They make fitted covers for every upholstered item of Ikea furniture ever made. The quality is pretty good. Again, buy at your own risk but they have a wide selection of fabrics and about 100 different colors and patterns to choose from.
Cafe Garden Restaurant on First Street, Port Angeles really does exist and according to their website has a wonderful menu. Independent reviews I read praised the restaurant for their food and service. I've never eaten there.