I'm Jack's writer's block. Even though Jack is not a writer.


Chapter 10

"Edward," someone whispered while tugging at the sheet that covered me. I groaned and maybe even grumbled something but didn't otherwise react. I was still half asleep and didn't have any intensions of waking up any time soon.

"Edward!" The whisper grew insistent, the speaker impatient. Who the fuck was that, and why the hell did they want me to wake up? It was still dark, for God's sake.

"Edward!" Funny how they still didn't raise their voice above a whisper. "You need to wake up. I have an appointment, remember?"

I shot up in bed, making myself dizzy. Still not understanding much, I looked around wildly, squinting against the light from the hall. I heard a giggle to my left and whirled my head around, swaying in the process.

"What the…" I rasped out, trying to gather my thoughts. The giggling turned into muffled laughter and gasping.

"Ow, it hurts to laugh. Stop it!" Bambi. Yeah, it was her, doubled over my nightstand, clutching her side with her injured arm.

"What's the matter, B? Are you all right? What time is it?" I slurred, swinging my legs off the bed.

"It's eight a.m. and I need to go to the hospital, remember? I have an appointment with a therapist," she whispered as she sat beside me.

"Why are you whispering?"

"Why are you?"

I chuckled but looked her in the eye. She frowned and looked down, avoiding my gaze. "I don't know," she said quietly, not whispering anymore. "It's just…I don't know how to explain it. It just feels right." She looked me in the eye then and added teasingly, "Good thing I did, though, 'cause otherwise you would have fallen out of bed."

"And why's that?" I asked her with mock seriousness.

"You should've seen yourself shooting up in bed like it was on fire!" She started to giggle again, and I couldn't help but enjoy both the sound and the view. She was already dressed in jeans and some sort of sweater that was too big on her. I remembered my mom wearing it, like, fifteen years ago. The neckline was wide and hung low, and I could see her collarbones. If she leaned forward just a little…

I turned my head away abruptly when my eyes wandered too low and raked my hand through my hair.

"You have time to shower without rush," she added softly. "I made breakfast." There was a hint of pride in her voice, and I looked at her curiously. "Strawberry pancakes," she explained, smiling really big.

I grinned at her and, unable to resist, reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently.

"I'll wait downstairs. Get up." She stood up and exited my room, closing the door softly behind her.

x-x-x-x

"Are you okay?" I asked gently, taking her hand and unclasping her fist.

We were sitting in my car in the hospital parking lot. It was raining a little, and it was gloomy and dark.

She nodded distractedly and sighed. "I should go," she said, looking outside.

"Okay. I'll be here in an hour."

She nodded again, squeezed my hand, and got out of the car. I waited for her to go inside and then drove away.

I decided to visit Emmett's to kill time, maybe snoop around about Bambi's case if he was home.

It took me only five minutes to get there, but the rain had picked up considerably during that time and I had to jog to the front door to avoid getting soaked.

I knocked on the heavy wooden door and almost instantly heard the staccato of little feet running and then "Don't open the door, Aidan!" from Rose.

Seconds later, she opened the door and smiled.

"Edward, hey! What's up? Come in!" She let me in and closed the door.

"Hi…oh, are you baking?" I blurted out. The air in the house was thick with the smell of freshly baked goods.

Rosalie laughed and wiped her hands on the black apron she wore.

"You're just as bad as Aid." She shook her head and walked to the kitchen. "Come on, cookies are about ready."

"Edward!" I turned just in time to catch the little kid running full speed toward me. I lifted him up and tossed him in the air, earning a squeal from him.

We walked to the kitchen, and Rose placed a plate of still-warm cookies in front of me. I crammed two into my mouth before I sat down.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Rose asked distractedly, opening the oven and checking on her next batch.

"Do you have cocoa?" I managed to say through a mouthful of crumbs.

"Yes!" Aidan yelled while climbing on the chair beside me. "Can I have one, too, Mom?" He looked at Rose, his eyes open wide and a sweet smile on his face. If I didn't know better, I'd think this kid was an angel.

"Two cocoas coming right up!" said Rose in a very cheerful un-Rose-like voice.

"Why are you not in kindergarten, little man?" I asked Aidan, swallowing my third cookie. Fuck, they were just perfect.

"I'm sick!" he answered all proud-like, nibbling on his cookie.

"Oh? You don't look sick to me," I teased him, tickling his side. He giggled and batted my hand away.

"That's because he's all better now," said Rose, placing two cups with cocoa in front of us.

"So how are you?" she asked, taking a seat across from me.

"Good, I guess. Work's good, though I think I need to start looking for someone to hire since Jacob is planning on going away for college. I thought I would—"

"And how are things at home," Rose asked offhandedly, concentrating on picking up crumbs from her cookie.

I furrowed my brow and smirked at her. "Um, things are okay…" I said slowly. "Why?" I mimicked her distracted tone and snatched up another cookie. Was it my fourth? Sixth? Oh, who cared! I wondered if Bambi could bake…

"Well, last I heard, you had a mysterious girl there. And rumor has it," she lowered her voice and lifted her eyebrows, "that she's your long lost girlfriend who got in trouble in Seattle and is hiding here."

I propped my head on my hand and rolled my eyes.

"You gossip too much, woman."

"I hear too much, that's for sure. I mean, I probably won't ever look at Jessica Stanley the same as I did before I heard her…" her eyes flicked to her son, "being really vocal in a janitor's closet during Eric's break."

She waggled her eyebrows and triumphantly bit into her cookie.

I groaned and stood up to rinse my cup in the sink.

"So?" She wasn't backing off.

"So…things are okay." I sighed. What was there to tell? "The girl doesn't remember her name, she's an awesome cook, she's really quiet, and she loves cats. That's about all I know."

"Poor thing. Where is she now?" Rose's eyes were full of compassion, a quick switch from all the teasing and joking around.

"She's at the hospital. They set her up for some therapy to…I don't know, to help her remember stuff and figure out where she is from. And to help the police, I guess, but you should know more about this part since you're an insider." I made air quotes around the last word.

"Oh, I'm not…I'm not interested in this stuff," said Rose. "You know, it's his work. It's not something to gossip about."

Instantly I felt embarrassed. "Oh, Rose, I didn't mean to imply —"

She waved me off. Truly, Rose wasn't the gossiping kind. She was an awesome friend who despised rumors as well as anyone indulging in them. Too bad she worked with such people.

"Relax, it's okay. Are you finished, honey?" she asked Aidan.

He nodded, thanked her, and took off from the kitchen.

"More cocoa?" Rose asked, lifting an eyebrow at me as I stuffed another cookie into my mouth.

"Please."

"So, how are Alice and Jasper?" she asked distractedly. I chuckled, realizing gossip wasn't completely off the table.

-x-x-x-

I was waiting for Bambi to come out of the hospital, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel and looking at the clock nervously. I felt anxious, so I started to count the seconds to distract myself.

She came out a few minutes (187 seconds, to be exact) later, pale as a ghost and clutching the sleeves of her sweater in her fists. She searched for my car in the parking lot, and once she found it, she slowly made her way over, hugging herself and looking stiff as a board. When she got closer, I noticed her puffy eyes and rosy nose. She looked so sad and broken, but I couldn't deny that she also looked cute, in an I-want-to-scoop-her-up-and-wrap-her-in-a-blanket-and-rock-her-to-sleep way.

I jumped out of the car and jogged over to her, meeting her halfway.

"Are you okay?" I asked, rubbing her arms swiftly but gently.

She nodded and stared numbly at my chest, which was eye-level with her.

I cupped her face and lifted her chin a little, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes were so expressive and deep, and yet they seemed dulled by the fear and sadness that ate at her from within.

"Hey," I whispered, stroking her cheek. "It's gonna be all right. Okay? It's gonna be fine." I willed her to believe me with my eyes.

Her bottom lip trembled then, and the warring emotions spilled over, forcing the tears to fall onto her cheeks.

"Oh, sweetheart…" I murmured, hugging her close to me. She clung to me, clawing at my t-shirt under my jacket. I rocked us from side to side as she wept quietly. Thankfully, the rain had stopped, but the wind was harsh and cold. I shielded her with my jacket when she shivered lightly. Soon she relaxed her fists and smoothed the shirt on my back, melting into my body and sighing deeply.

"Let's get you home," I murmured into her hair, and she nodded.

I led her to the passenger's door with my arm around her shoulder and helped her inside.

After about five minutes of heavy but not necessarily uncomfortable silence, I tugged at the edge of her sweater lightly until she looked at me with a faint, sad smile on her face.

"Bambi," I said softly, "I just want you to know that…if you want to talk about anything, just know that I'm always here, okay?"

"I know," she whispered hoarsely.

"But if you don't want to talk, it's okay. I won't hover, I promise. Just…I don't want you to feel like you owe me something."

"Why are you so good to me?" she asked, looking at me appraisingly and somewhat suspiciously, though the tender smile that played at the corners of her lips softened her expression.

It startled a chuckle out of me, and I looked at the road, nervously raking my fingers through my hair.

"Am I?" I asked rhetorically.

"So good," she murmured, making me look at her in surprise. Her eyes were droopy and the smile was more prominent.

"Bambi?" I asked, confused. She just hummed, smiling a little more. "Are you okay? Did…did the doctor give something to you?"

"She gave me a pill," she mumbled, closing her eyes and lowering herself in her seat.

That worried me. I didn't want to imagine what had happened in the doctor's office that they'd needed to sedate her.

I snuck glances at her still form during the ride home, but she seemed sound asleep.

I parked at the house and sighed. I so desperately wanted to help her, but there seemed to be nothing I could do. You gave her a roof and a warm bed, a little voice in my head reminded me. True, but still, I wanted to do something to relieve her stress. To help her cope. To help her remember. And move on? Move away?I didn't like the idea of that, and it confused me.

I stepped out of the car, made my way to the passenger's side, and opened the door. She was curled in a ball like a kitten. I leaned in and gently lifted her up in my arms.

In the door to her bedroom, I hugged her closer to me and inhaled her warm, feminine scent, savoring holding her.

"It's gonna be all right, kitten," I whispered, placing her on the bed.

I covered her with coverlet and kissed her forehead, stroking her soft hair one last time, and then walked out and closed the door with a quiet click.

What was I doing?Better yet, what was I feeling?

I shook my head and pulled my phone from my jeans pocket.

"Hey, Dad," I rasped out once he picked up. I cleared my throat and asked, "Do you have the phone number of her therapist?"


Thank you for still being here, even if I (this) don't deserve it.

Tina is a little fairy that somehow makes my words sound prettier. Like, whoa.

Oh, and just a fyi - Charlie is not B's father. Yeah. I'd love to, but that would be a bit Santa Barbara like, don't you think? Trust me, k? xoxo