Surprise! Thank Winter Storm Cato for the update. Our travel plans were pushed back a day, so I got to procrastinate on packing by writing. :)
I messed up my storyline when I added the EPOV, and I'm sorry that it's confusing! I know how I want to rework it but don't want to muddle things up even more by going back and moving chapters around.
So to put things in order:
- Edward finds out about Lauren's implant, she drops the "no kids" bomb.
- Next day (Friday), Aunt Dee suggests he go to the flower shop (last chapter), E and Isa talk about destination wedding and no kids, chat about families, he says he'll bring the parents by (chapter 8)
- This chapter is Monday. Esme and Carlisle will arrive in 4 days.
Chapter 12 - Time to Talk
"They won't let you, or you won't ask?"
Lauren huffed. "I've told you before how Friday afternoons are crucial times. If I'm not here and a last minute contract or account comes through, some other staffer will get it. Until I'm an associate, I can't let any opportunity go by."
"I know, I know," Edward grumbled into the phone. "It's just that I hate asking my parents to wait three hours at the airport."
"Well, actually…I won't be done at five. Keith is taking everyone out for drinks to celebrate the Harper settlement."
"And you have to be there because of the kissing-ass thing…thanks for helping me out, Lar." Heavy sarcasm.
"You know, I really don't need your attitude right now. Pick them up yourself or get a car service. It's not like they can't afford it."
"That's not the fu—" Edward snapped his mouth shut to keep from saying the expletive. Even though his office door was closed, he didn't want to take any risk that little ears might overhear. He squeezed his eyes shut and tugged at the hair falling onto his forehead. "When are you getting home tonight?"
"Christ, Edward, I don't know! I'll leave whenever my work is done, as usual. Look, I have to go. I'll talk to you later." She hung up.
"You bet you will," Edward muttered to himself.
His afternoon passed quickly, and when the last patient of the day cancelled, he found himself looking at a long evening home alone. Alice had asked for the day off, so dinner was up to him.
He picked up his phone from the desktop.
"Dr. Snyder speaking."
"Hey, it's Edward. Are you on the floor tonight? I need a dinner date."
"Yeah, I'm on. Being down two doctors is a bitch." Joe chuckled dryly. "You'd better try to bank some sleep—fifty dollars says you get called in again this week."
"Damn."
Edward usually didn't work on Sundays, but he'd had to cover a shift in the ER the day before. Although he had little experience in emergency medicine, a surprisingly large number of ER patients were there for non-traumatic issues like ear infections and dislocated joints. He'd been shocked when first learning about the expectation for a pediatric doctor to work in the ER if needed, but apparently, such things happened in rural areas where there was a shortage of qualified people.
Normally, he didn't mind—the change of pace was refreshing. The previous day's call-up, however, had come at a bad time. He'd been planning to have his long, serious "deal-breaker" discussion with Lauren. Now, it looked likely not to happen that night, either.
The thought of arguing with her again chased away his appetite. Feeling defeated and drained, he locked up and headed to his car.
His first inclination when he neared the little flower shop was stay on his current course home. It would be rude to inflict his miserable gloom on anyone, and Isabella was a person who deserved it least. But then he remembered what a lousy mood he'd been the past Friday, the day after his huge argument with Lauren, and how Isabella had brightened his outlook. She had been able to wade through the muddled swill in his head and uncover the fundamental problems. She had made everything so much better.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Edward made the right-hand turn into the shop's parking lot. He realized he was about to lean on her again and hoped she didn't think him a nuisance. There had been a few times during their previous conversation when he felt they had shared some sort of connection, something deeper than the surface exchange between casual acquaintances. He wanted it to be the start of a true friendship.
Climbing out of his car in front of her shop, he noticed Isabella had her back to the entrance. She wasn't moving and seemed to be staring off into space. When the chimes announced his presence, she spun around with a startled look on her face.
"Edward!" Her cheeks were flushed.
"Is everything okay?" he asked, concerned at the unnaturally bright gleam in her eye. The doctor in him took over, and he closed the distance between them to put the back of his hand to her temple.
"W-what are you doing?"
He lifted his other hand and used his fingertips to palpate her neck. He frowned when she shuddered as if chilled. "Are you feeling sick? Your lymph nodes don't seem swollen, but you might be running a slight temperature. Let me get the temporal artery scanner from my car."
"The what?"
"Forehead thermometer," he told her with a grin.
Her temperature was 98.9ºF. Well within range.
"I told you, I'm…fine. So, um, what brings you here? Decide to get the roses, after all?"
Edward had been so concerned about her health that he had forgotten the reason for his impromptu visit. He scoffed.
"Definitely not."
"Oh?"
Her question was like a floodgate lever, and words began to spill from his mouth. He explained how Marcus had called him early Saturday morning to say he and Lauren were just getting in and that she had passed out during the cab ride back to the apartment. She didn't get home until that evening, just before Edward had to leave for the medical center's ER, and they never got a chance to talk. He told about his increasing eagerness to spend time with his parents—it had been months since he'd last seen them—but that Lauren wasn't able to meet them at the airport. He said it was becoming more clear to him what her first priority in life was, and that wasn't likely to change.
Edward talked from his chair and Isabella listened as she prepared to close the shop up for the night. Every so often, she would glance at him with a peculiar look in her eyes, almost as if she were in pain.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he said at last.
"Yeah, um, I think I'm just…tired."
"Damn! I'm sorry, Isabella. I'm sitting here talking your ear off while you're trying to get work done. What can I do to help?"
"I'm pretty much done, actually. All I have to do is lock the door and hit the lights."
"What time—? Isabella! Why didn't you tell me I was keeping you here?"
"It's fine," she replied quietly, looking at the floor.
"No, it's not. I keep taking advantage of your kindness, and it's not right. God, I can't believe how selfish I'm being." He stood up quickly from his chair and shook his head. "You should've told me to shut up a long time ago."
"You're not taking advantage of anything. I just…I feel bad that I can't think of anything helpful to say."
Edward laughed, but when he saw hurt flash across Isabella's face, he gasped and went to her.
"Hey, I wasn't making fun of you or anything like that," he said, putting a hand on her arm. "I was just shocked at how your statement was completely opposite the truth. Everything you've ever said—or even when you haven't said anything, just listened—it's been so important to me. I only wish there was some way I could pay you back…"
She stared up at him with wide, unfocused eyes. Edward took a step back, letting his hand drop away from her, his expression concerned.
"Isabella, I really think you should get some rest now, take it easy for a few days. Are you okay to drive?"
"What? No…I mean, yes, I'm fine." She blinked rapidly and shook her head as if clearing it. "But you're probably right—I should get home and go to…bed."
Edward insisted upon staying until she closed the store and then followed her home to make sure she arrived safely. He was extremely worried about her health and made a mental note to check up on her the next day.
He never did, though.
Lauren's red Mercedes convertible was in the garage when he got home.
"So, where've you been?" she demanded the moment he set foot inside the house. She was sitting at the breakfast table with her arms folded across her chest.
"I stopped by the flower shop after work to chat with Isabella." He had no reason not to tell the truth.
Her eyes narrowed. "Why the hell are you spending time with her? Is there something you need to tell me?"
"What are you talking about? We're friends…I think." He looked at her, his own expression becoming stormy. "And where do you get off? I'm not the one going out to bars all night and sleeping in other men's apartments."
"Please. Marcus hardly counts as 'another man,' and you know it. Excuse me for needing to blow off steam after someone, who I thought loved me, called me a superficial, lying bitch."
Edward cringed at the reminder. She had said some equally nasty things to him, but that didn't excuse the behavior. "I'm really sorry about that, Lar," he apologized quietly, earnestly. "I know that was a shitty thing for me to do."
Her shoulders hunched over, and she covered her face with her hands. "I'm sorry, too. God, this is so messed up."
The sigh he released contained weeks of tension and frustration. Edward sat down at the table across from her and gently moved her hands, taking them in his own.
"Lauren, honey, we need to talk."
She looked at him with tear-stained eyes—ones that mirrored the finality contained in his.
"I know."
The Edward-Isabella scene above was the one Isabella mentioned in passing to Victoria during ch9. The "pain" in her eyes is that whole "anvil-on-heart-with-hammer" business, and she's all spacey because she just figured out she has feeeeelings for the good doc.
I'll fix the jumpy timeline after fic completion. Next chapter will catch everything up and move on. PHEW!
Thanks SO much for reading, and for those who leave feedback, I can't even say how much I appreciate each one. You all are the BEST!
