Chapter 21

Five years later

Original Message

Sent December 21 (7:02am)

From:

To:

Subject: client id # 040629

Mr. Volturi,

I am writing once again to respectfully request that you re-evaluate the case of my daughter, Carlie Alice Cullen. Her child psychiatrist, Dr. R. Banner, has recommended a form of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, which has been repeatedly denied approval.

On a personal note, as a single father, I am unable to provide the cost of this therapy without assistance. I have been employed by the Forks public school system for seven years, and have been paying into the health insurance plan since the beginning of my tenure.

My daughter suffers daily from severe anxiety, even at her young age. Weekly therapy sessions with her psychiatrist have helped moderately, but I fear, as does Dr. Banner, that these sessions are not enough. My daughter would benefit from more structured, intense therapy, and I fear that her condition will deteriorate unless she receives the recommended care.

I have included the office number for Dr. Banner at the end of this email. Please call him or me if you have any questions.

Sincerely,

Edward. A. Cullen

Message

Sent December 21 (9:08 am)

From:

Subject: re: client id # 040629

Mr. Cullen,

I have received your message, as well as the several appeals prior. Once again, I must decline your request for this company to cover the cost of CBT for your daughter. As explained to you earlier, given her age, this type of therapy is simply not covered under your plan.

Your specific health plan covers one sixty-minute session, once per week, with a mental health professional. This plan is similar to, if not superior to, the basic plans for most HMOs.

When your daughter reaches the age of ten, she may be eligible for more intensive therapies. Until then, there is nothing more that we can do. Please be advised that any further appeals will also be denied. Your case has reached the top tier of appeals and will not be approved. I request that you cease further correspondence with us on this issue.

Sincerely,

Aro Volutri

Senior Vice President of Claims Services

Pacific Health Insurance Co.

Seattle, WA

I groaned in frustration and slammed the lid of my laptop down.

Now what am I supposed to do?

Carlie was suffering, and she got worse every day. Her therapy wasn't helping much, and she was too young for medication. Dr. Banner kept pressing me to see a specialist in Port Angeles who could try cognitive behavior therapy, but it was expensive- prohibitively so.

I was still working in my same position at Forks Middle, teaching music, though the passion I once had for the subject had long since disappeared. Everything I ever had a passion for disappeared when Bella did- except Carlie of course.

Carlie was my world, my only joy in this world. And yet I had to sit every day and watch her suffer the same disease that destroyed her mother.

I truly felt that my sole purpose in life was to make sure that Carlie didn't suffer the same way Bella did. I was determined to give Carlie everything she needed to have a happy, normal, productive life. Everything that Bella didn't have.

Unfortunately, I had to live within my means.

Between regular bills and expenses, the copays for Carlie's medical appointments, day care, clothes and food, I could only afford to put a meager amount in savings every month. The treatment needed was thousands of dollars.

If my health insurance would pocket, even just some of the cost, I could do what was best for my daughter.

Everyone kept telling me the same thing though, that she was too young.

"Anxiety disorders can't usually be diagnosed until the child is much older."

"Your child is simply too young."

"There hasn't been enough data to prove that psychoanalysis or behavioral therapy are even beneficial in the long term."

I even asked Jasper to help me. He was enrolled in law school now, and he brought the case to one of his professors, who told him there was nothing I could do. The guidelines in my health insurance plan were laid out pretty clearly. The bare minimum was what they would cover, nothing more.

I may not have been a medical professional, but I knew the difference between what was normal and what was not.

It was not normal for a child to make herself physically ill as she worried about even the most mundane things.

Starting kindergarten was the biggest challenge for her yet. She had been at school since September, and every day when she came home she was more forlorn than the last. I'd had many conferences with her teacher, who told me the same thing over and over.

Carlie was different. She didn't interact with the other children. When asked why, she said she was afraid they wouldn't like her. She worried constantly about making sure her schoolwork was perfect, making herself absolutely sick if she so much colored outside a line.

And that was just the small stuff. No matter how many days she had to get used to Miss Darcy picking her up from school and staying with her until I got home from work, she would pace and cry and worry that something happened to me. Darcy was very patient, and after a couple of weeks of this, I took back everything negative I'd ever said or thought about the woman- she was a saint.

From the little things to the major things, Carlie never had any peace. Something was always going through her head, something to worry about. She hardly ever smiled or laugh, because the little wheels in her brain were constantly wondering what the worst case scenario of every situation was. At least, that's how Dr. Banner explained it.

And Goddamn my health insurance company. I bet if they spent one day with her they would cover her therapy instantly. No child should have to live like this.

I had to compose myself before I let Carlie see me. She fed off negative emotions; if someone else was distressed about something, she was distressed tenfold. It didn't matter what it was.

I returned to the living room where I left her a few minutes ago watching cartoons while I checked my email. I found her in the same position I left her in, but she wasn't looking at the television anymore. Instead, she was gazing pensively at the little Christmas tree in the corner, biting her lower lip, just like Bella always did.

Carlie looked so much like Bella that it honestly hurt my heart sometimes to look at her, especially when she displayed some of Bella's mannerisms. Who knew lip biting was genetic?

It had been nearly five years since I laid eyes on Bella. I missed her every day. She was, and always would be, the love of my life. Everyone kept telling me that as time passed, things would get easier, that I would start to forget about her.

I couldn't imagine ever forgetting about her. I still loved her, I always have. I hadn't laid a hand on another woman since she disappeared, and I never had any desire to. In my heart, she was my wife, and I vowed to honor that.

Sometimes though, especially when I looked at our beautiful daughter, I got really angry. I couldn't understand how anybody could walk out on her. She was so precious.

And then every time I got angry, I felt a little guilty too. I knew that Bella had been suffering from severe depression, and things were hard on her. If what she had to do was leave us, then fine.

I just wish she would call- just once- so I would know that she was even alive.

What I would give to just hear her voice one more time.

Attempts at looking for her had been futile. Every now and then I still find myself searching her name in Google, but of course nothing ever comes up. We tried missing persons reports and private investigators, but nothing worked. It was as if she disappeared off the face of the earth. Bella had been well versed in the art of disappearing. That was probably the only thing her mother ever taught her.

As I gazed at Carlie, I once again reminded myself that I had to keep moving forward- she was my world now.

"What's wrong princess?" I asked, taking note of her pensive expression.

"I don't want to go to Grandpa Charlie's for Christmas."

"Why not?" I asked, sitting down cross-legged next to her. I was closer to forty than thirty now, and the creaking of my bones reminded me of that sad fact.

"Because then Santa Claus won't find me."

Santa Claus not showing up for Christmas morning was a reasonable fear for a child her age, but I knew that if I didn't put an end to her concern, she would obsess over it to the point she was sick. Once she got an idea in her head, she would be unable to relax until either it was resolved, or something else came along on which to focus her anxiety.

"Carlie, remember when I explained to you that Grandpa Charlie can't go to Seattle this year to visit Emma?"

"Yes," she answered, wringing her hands together, looking at the ground.

"So he wants you and Emma to open your gifts together at his house, so he can see you both open your presents at the same time."

"Because Grandpa Charlie is sick?" she clarified.

"Yeah, honey. Because he's sick," I answered carefully.

"So how will Santa find me?"

"Because Grandpa Charlie talked to him and told him you would be there." As I winged it, I made a mental note to tell Charlie the story I told her.

Then I was blindsided by her next question.

"Is Grandpa Charlie going to die?"

I was prepared for this question though. I discussed it with Dr. Banner already. Lying to her would only cause problems further down the line.

"Yes, princess. He is going to die. But he'll be here for Christmas. That's why we want to make this the best Christmas ever for him, right?"

She started chewing on her lower lip again. "So Santa knows where to go?"

"He does. I promise."

I was foolish to think the conversation would end there. Without warning, her big brown eyes filled with tears and she started breathing heavy. I could practically see her heart beating out of her chest through her sweater.

"Princess, it's okay," I murmured, scooping her into my arms and pulling her to my chest. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want Grandpa to die!" she wailed.

I was literally clueless. I had no idea how to proceed from here. So I just let her cry until she was finished.

"We just have to make sure that we make the most of our time left with Grandpa, right?" she nodded into my chest.

"What if Grandpa dies and then you die too? The other kids in my class have a mommy, but I don't. I'll be all alone."

"You'll never be alone. There are so many people who love you, like Uncle Emmett and Auntie Rose, and Uncle Jasper and Aunt Alice. I'm not sick like Grandpa is. I'll be okay. I'll be with you for a long time." There was one thing that I made sure to do every single day, and that was to make sure that Carlie knew she was loved. That was the one thing that Bella never seemed to understand.

"You promise?" she asked, sniffling and looking up at me.

"Promise," I answered, kissing the tears off her cheeks.

Carlie focused her attention back on the TV, but I saw her gaze keep shifting to me, as if to make sure I was still there. I disappeared back into the bedroom to call Dr. Banner, and explained the conversation we had this morning. He reaffirmed that I did the right thing by being honest with her. We didn't want to deal with the consequences of lying about it later.

A year ago, Charlie had been diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma, and was given eight months to live. That son of a bitch was stubborn and lasted an extra four months. He went through two rounds of chemotherapy before he decided enough was enough. He didn't want to go through another round and decided his fate. He wanted to die at home with dignity. His health was quickly failing though, and we knew he didn't have much longer.

Sue took a leave of absence and has stayed with him every day. The family watched helplessly as Charlie seemed to waste away to practically nothing. He was a shell of a man he once was- too thin, too frail- but something was keeping him alive. It was as if he was waiting for something to happen.

Though he never said it, I was sure he was waiting for Bella. Her disappearance had affected him almost as much as it affected me.

He was maniacal about finding her when she disappeared. "I can't lose her again," I heard him saying to himself more than once.

Neither of us would even consider the very real possibility that Bella was dead. The thought alone was too much to bear.

Later that night, after Carlie had long been asleep, I curled up on my side of the bed I once shared with Bella. I picked up our framed wedding picture that I kept on the nightstand, as I did every night.

Wherever she was, I just hoped she was happy.

December 25

"Come on, Princess, it's time to go."

Carlie put on her little backpack she always carried and took my hand. It housed some of her very favorite possessions, and she was afraid to ever leave it behind. "Are you sure Santa found Grandpa's house?" she asked me again.

"I'm sure," I said smiling. "I talked to Grandpa myself this morning, and he said there are a whole bunch of presents waiting for you and Emma. He can't wait for you to get over there so he can watch you open them."

"Okay," she said, still unconvinced. I sighed. No matter how many years had passed, I would never get used to the fact that Carlie hardly ever smiled, or laughed. She was like an old soul stuck in a tiny body.

When we pulled up in front of Charlie's house, I opened the back door for Carlie, but she didn't budge from her booster seat after it was unbuckled. "You ready?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Is the big dog going to be there?"

She was referring to Athena. When Carlie was three, she developed a fear of Athena after she barked too loud once. Athena was a very docile creature, always very gentle with Carlie, but Carlie started to have major anxiety issues whenever she was around. Eventually, the panic became so bad that I was forced to give Athena to Charlie.

"No baby, Sue is going to put her in the garage like she always does. The big dog won't bother you." When her tension didn't fade, I asked, "Is something else wrong?"

"Grandpa is sick," she said.

"Yes, he is sick," I answered carefully.

"Can he make me sick?"

"No, he's not that kind of sick. He's not contagious."

"What's contagious?"

"It means his kind of sick can't make other people sick too."

"Will I hurt him if I touch him?"

"No, you won't hurt him," I assured her.

She frowned and furrowed her eyebrows. "I won't though, just in case."

I frowned at her declaration and said, "I think Grandpa Charlie would be very sad if he didn't get a hug from you today."

It might be the last one he ever gets, I reluctantly admitted to myself.

When I finally coaxed Carlie out of the car, I took her hand and we made our way up to the doorstep. It was Rosalie who greeted me first when I entered the house. "Edward!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around me and kissing my cheek. "Merry Christmas, and thank God you're here. I thought Emma's head was going to start spinning like the girl in The Exorcist if she didn't open her gifts soon," she joked.

"Yeah, sorry we're a little late," I said, my eyes darting to Carlie. Rosalie smiled gently in understanding. We were often late for things. No matter how much time I planned to get somewhere early, I often had to calm Carlie down before even doing the simplest of things. The whole family understood Carlie's anxiety, and they were all very supportive and understanding.

"And how are you today Miss Carlie? Are you excited about opening your gifts?" Rosalie asked, squatting down to Carlie's level.

"I guess so," Carlie said. I could tell her mind was still on Charlie as we made our way into the living room.

I found Charlie in his favorite chair, literally propped up on pillows. Although thin and deathly pale, he had a smile on his face. I shook his hand gingerly and he scolded me immediately.

"I have cancer, I'm not made of glass," he said gruffly.

I corrected myself with a smirk and a proper handshake. "Merry Christmas, old man."

"Least my hair ain't getting gray, like some people I know," he said, narrowing his eyes at me. I chuckled at Charlie's lame joke. The man had no hair anymore.

Even after Bella's abrupt departure, Charlie never treated me any different. He always treated me like his own, and he'd been my rock for so long. I don't know how I would have survived the last few years without him. The thought of losing him was painful, but inevitable.

Charlie was right about my hair though; it started to go gray the moment Bella left and got grayer by the day. I had some seriously gray hair around the edges, but most people said I looked distinguished.

Emmett entered then with a squealing Emma thrown over his shoulder, and he tossed her unceremoniously in front of the Christmas tree, under which presents were literally overflowing.

"Now can we open them?" Emma asked her parents, exasperated, and they nodded excitedly.

I watched as Emma tore into her presents like a wild woman, while Carlie set a neat stack of the ones addressed to her and opened each one carefully, as if each were the most precious thing in the world.

"What's wrong, pumpkin? You don't like your gifts?" Emmett asked, plopping himself down on the floor next to her.

She shied away from him a little. I think his sheer size always intimated her a little bit.

"I don't want to break anything," she answered carefully.

Emmett smiled gleefully at her and reached into the massive pile and pulled out a gift. "This one is from me and Auntie Rose. I promise that you can't break it. It's an unbreakable toy. I want you to go nuts on this one, okay? Tear into it!"

Carlie stared at him skeptically.

"Here, check it out. I'm so sure that this won't break, watch what I'm going to do." He picked it up and tossed it up and down in the air a few times, then shook it roughly. "See? Go nuts."

It warmed my heart when Carlie smiled a little bit, and I watched her tear into wrapping paper without abandon. She giggled a little when she uncovered a plush stuffed Teddy Bear, which, once out of the package, was almost as big as she was.

"It's big!" she squealed.

"Just like you!" he said back, kissing her on the top of her head. I took a quick picture. Carlie giggling was definitely not something I got to see every day.

When we were finished unwrapping presents, the living room was absolutely covered in paper. As we started cleaning, Emmett pulled another package from behind the tree. It was wrapped differently than the others, and he frowned at it. "I don't remember seeing this when we- I mean Santa- put the presents under the tree." He looked over at Emma and Carlie to make sure that they didn't hear his slip, and they didn't. Peering at the tag, he shrugged and tossed it to me. "It's addressed to you, man."

I read the tag, but it was printed on computer paper. All it said was "To Edward, Merry Christmas." I opened the paper carefully and uncovered a hard covered book. Learning to Love Again, I read. By Marie Dwyer. Turning the book over, I read the description. One woman's story of overcoming abuse and depression, and learning to love herself – and others.

I stared back up at Emmett. "Is this some kind of joke?" I asked, utterly confused. He shrugged, and I could plainly see he had nothing to do with it. I looked over at Sue and Rosalie, who were just eyeing me curiously. I had no idea how the book got there, or why the hell whoever bought it for me that would think I wanted to read something like that. It bordered on cruel.

Before I could blow a gasket, the telltale signs of Carlie beginning to have a panic attack distracted me. I could hear her breathing pick up and little sounds in the back of her throat signaling she was about to cry. I looked up quickly and she was standing in front of Charlie's chair, staring up at him.

"I don't want you to die," she said, her voice trembling. I made a move to go to her, but Charlie put his hand up to stop me.

"Come here, sweetheart," he said, opening his arms in invitation. I watched their exchange out of the corner of my eye as I packed Carlie's gifts into an empty bag.

"Come on up, I won't hurt you," he said, patting his lap.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me, but you'll hurt my feelings if you don't come up here."

She climbed up slowly into his lap and he put an arm around her.

"See, you didn't hurt me kiddo," he said with a smile.

Carlie gave him a hug and whispered something in his ear. My heart clenched when I saw a tear roll down his cheek.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he answered her. "But I'll always be with you, right here," he said, pointing to her heart.

Carlie sniffled and buried her face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him, every now and then kissing the top of her head.

Overcome by emotion, I let the mysterious book fall into the bag, forgotten for the moment.

A/N- Thanks for all the support, reviews, and recs! I have more material now than I can read in a lifetime :)

Please take a second and let me know what you thought about this chapter. I'll post more as soon as I can :)