Chapter Twenty One: Father's Day

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes looked around the room that had become my home. It was a standard room containing two queen-sized beds. I was sleeping in the one closest to the window, which came with a none-too-scintillating view of the upper levels of the parking garage next door. The room was fitted out with dark wood furniture and painted cream. The soft furnishings – what there were of them - were maroon. By the door was a bathroom, opposite which was an alcove with hanging space, but it contained very little. I had two pairs of black jeans, three t-shirts and the black zip-up jacket to my name. I had ditched the blood-splattered dress and the shoes. There was no further need in my life for a party dress and high-heeled pumps.

I'd been here a week now and I needed to make a decision soon about whether I was staying in San Francisco, or moving on. I didn't intrinsically dislike the city - it hadn't been it or anyone else's fault that our introduction had been so brutal. Had I not chosen to go wandering at night, I most likely wouldn't have found myself at the mercy of the vampire.

I resolved that after meeting Heather for breakfast, I'd get down to some serious planning for my future. I'd get myself into a place with internet access this afternoon and search out a few options. Air travel out of the country was a risk if anyone was looking for me, but I could probably find someone to forge the necessary documents for a new identity, if I did want my exit to be unnoticed. I wasn't completely unaware of how you went about doing that; being a Cullen meant knowing more than your average High School student. To that end, if I wanted to, I could go anywhere in the world.

I held a vague yearning to go and see what Cumbria looked like for real; to go and see for myself where Jess was from. Sitting at her desk, in her bedroom in Forks, she'd shown me her old house on Google Street View; pointing out her bedroom window at the front of the old stone-build whitewashed house. It was situated on a narrow walled lane, surrounded by fields, in what looked like the middle of nowhere. The Taylor family had moved from Grasmere, a small place in the middle of one of the most rural and scenically beautiful counties of Britain. Jess had liked it. Dan had been less than complimentary, calling it Grocklemere, because of all the tourists who packed the town on summer weekends and public holidays.

It looked so much like the Olympic peninsula in one regard, in that it was lush, green, rainy and to my mind, very beautiful. Perhaps I would go there. Go and see if I could find some of her friends and feel closer to Jess that way. She still had family there; perhaps I could pick up snippets of news from them, find out how the Taylors were doing in Forks that way. Yes, Britain was beginning to sound very appealing.

It was seven fifteen. I reached for the TV remote on the bedside table and flicked on a news channel. There were still no reports of missing teenage girls from Washington State. This was good news. They weren't looking for me and – again my mind went to Jess - nothing untoward had happened to her, either. I wondered how she was and how her pregnancy was progressing. Being the gestating half of the last one, I couldn't really visualise what was going on right now. I hoped she was ok.

I thought back to what Heather had said yesterday, about Jess possibly lashing out at me because that was how she reacted to stressful situations. I allowed myself the kernel of hope that, at some point in the future, she'd consider letting me apologise to her. I genuinely hadn't known about Randall and if I had, I'd have done my utmost to separate them. What kind of friend would let their best friend date a vampire?

Vampires were hardly great boyfriend or girlfriend material. You couldn't observe the usual social customs that humans did. You couldn't go for coffee or a meal together and the vampire certainly wouldn't be inviting you to go hunting; unless things had taken a bit of a nosedive in your relationship. You couldn't hang out together on the beach or in the sun, unless you were strictly alone. Physical contact even in the height of summer meant that the human party would need clothing for the depths of winter and there was the very great risk (as Jess had discovered), that anything more intimate would carry the risk of serious injury, death or vampire-hood.

The added difficulty with dating a vampire was that those who subscribed to our way of living were thin on the ground. Randall had made that change though, and it wasn't recent judging by his eye colour; unlike Jane's cooling pupils. Randall's eyes had been every bit as gold as my family's, which meant that he'd been living this way for a while. I wondered what had prompted that. I'd most likely never know.

I showered and dressed, pulling on the black jeans again. This time I swapped the blue t-shirt for the black t-shirt and in the process exhausted my entire stock of clean clothes. I'd need to get a couple more items today before I stuck these into the hotel laundry service. I watched a little more TV and then headed out to meet Heather. It was pouring down. I put the hood of my jacket up and headed out into the rain.

Growing up where I had, I should be used to getting wet, but this San Francisco rain seemed particularly fierce and the raindrops sounded like hail hitting the ground. Or maybe it was because something had shifted in me overnight and I could finally feel. San Francisco was famous for its fogs and my personal fog had lifted a little. I couldn't quite see my personal Sausalito across the bay, but I could see enough to know where it was and it was why I was here this morning. I had to admit that I was curious how and why this woman had been so helpful to me, to someone who was a complete stranger to her.

I ran all the way, trying not to run too fast to arouse suspicion. It wasn't that far, but far enough to soak my jacket. I scurried up the steps and over to the entrance of the diner, reaching it just as there was a rumble of distant thunder. I almost yanked the door off its hinges in my hurry to get in out of the rain.

The diner was small and at this hour on a Sunday morning, fairly quiet. It had industrial metal panelled décor with 1950s-inspired yellow and red highlights and the obligatory neon signs. 1950s songs were playing quietly through speakers in the ceiling.

I looked around and saw Heather, sitting at a table in the wide bay window with her back to the view beyond. Her striped bag was on the seat next to her and on the floor was an enormous blue suitcase. I remembered that yesterday she'd said she was leaving the city. It was sooner than I'd appreciated.

"Good morning!" She beamed as I walked over and sat down. She was looking at a keychain, holding it by the clasp and swinging the little crystal figure back and forth. "I was just about to get some tea, you want some? Or some coffee?"

"Tea please. Would you let me buy you breakfast? It's the least I can do to say thanks for yesterday."

"There's no need to do that."

"I insist!"

"Ok, then; thanks!" She smiled. She indicated to a member of staff and ordered two teas from him. We'd order food in a while.

"Did you just get that?" I indicated to the keychain.

"Yes, it's a gift for someone I'm seeing later." She put it back in the bag and pushed it to one side. She looked at me. "Those eyes look clearer today and some weight seems to have lifted off your shoulders. I take it you slept well?"

"Yeah, I did. But I feel like I need more - a year's worth of sleep at least. I got a couple of months last night."

"I know that feeling. In the summer, the second it goes dark I have to get to bed; because as soon as the sun's up, I'm up. It's like I'm tuned in to the dawn. Black out blinds, eye masks, whatever; they don't work. Sun's up and Heather's up." She rolled her eyes. "It gets a little annoying if I've had a late night and want more than two and a half hours sleep. And I'm a happy morning person, which gets on everyone's nerves." She laughed.

I was drawn to her, much like I had been to Jess. To her openness, to her friendliness and to her vivacity which was exactly like Jess had been, before the knowledge of what Randall was had started to erode that away.

"I like the mornings." Heather continued, "There's something so full of promise about those first quiet hours, when it feels like you have the world to yourself. You know?" I nodded in agreement, but I didn't. Having the place to yourself virtually never happened in the Cullen house and I rarely beat my Grampa out of bed, he was an early bird too.

Behind me the door opened and I heard a group of people come in. The host seated them at an adjacent table and it was obviously a celebratory Father's Day breakfast. The man's children, sat one either side of him, presented him with a card each, which he carefully unwrapped. He lovingly enthused over each handmade creation, handling them as if he had been presented with priceless jewels.

"Some Dads get it so right," whispered Heather, inclining her head towards the man. She smiled gently at me. "Is this your first Father's Day without Dad, or your second?"

"My first."

"You know, he may be dead, but he's still very much in here." She held her fist to her chest. "Would it help to talk about him?" I bit my lip, unsure of what I could say. "You don't need to talk about him if it hurts. Grief is a very personal thing; everyone travels through it at their own rate. It always helped me to talk about my Dad. It made him more real somehow and helped me to remember him. Does it hurt to remember your Dad?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"All of it, or just some of it?"

"Just some of it. Towards the end things weren't great." I sighed.

"Ah… More big stuff. I think we need food here. Shall we order breakfast?" She opened the menu. "I fancy some pancakes."

We ordered and I sipped my tea, looking out of the window beyond, into what would, on a clear day, be a view over San Francisco Bay, but not today. The rain had obscured my view and was still hurling itself against the window. It was hard to believe that it was June. It was doing a lot of raining these days. Or perhaps I was just noticing it more.

"I lost my Dad at nineteen so I have some idea of how you're feeling. Mom passed away last November and I've been kind of footloose ever since. I'm off down to San Diego today to stay with friends for a while. I have some irons in the fire but they're happening in God's time and taking a while to come to fruition. I'm not one of life's most patient people, so I thought I'd go kick back and spend some time in the sun."

"Sounds nice!"

"San Diego is a lovely place and my friend's house is always an oasis of calm. I went down there for a few days after Mom's funeral; it was exactly what I needed. Space, warmth and some good home cooking."

"You come across as a very patient person."

"It depends what it is. People I have endless time for. Beaurocracy, I don't! It's been a busy few weeks and I'm ready for a rest and some laughs."

"Yeah, laughs have been in short supply here too."

"Death kinda does that." She reached across the table and placed her hand over mine. "It does get easier, trust me.

"My Dad was always doing something stupid, so I have a head full of memories of the most absurd situations that he got himself into. When I'm feeling down, I pull one out and make myself laugh all over again." As if to illustrate just that point, she laughed. "Have you got those kinds of memories of your Dad? Ones that make you laugh?"

"Yeah, a few, but Dad didn't really play the joker." That job was adequately filled by Emmett and occasionally Jasper. "Dad was focussed and calm, responsible and methodical, resourceful and…" I tailed off. The last word brought tears to my eyes and a lump to my throat. "Dependable."

"He was always there for you?"

"Up until the last year, yes." Every picture I'd drawn, every story I'd written, he'd looked at or read, giving me encouragement and approval at every turn. He'd waited for me when I couldn't keep up, he'd sat up with me when I couldn't sleep and taught me almost everything I knew about mechanics, medicine, music, math and more. Not that Mom wasn't there, she was - parenting me had been a total team effort; but Mom was learning about her new life too, so he was very much sharing his knowledge with both of us. "There was a time when it seemed I could do no wrong in his eyes. The last year, though; it felt like I couldn't do anything right."

"Any particular reason?"

"Probably, but I don't know what it was. Mom said something had gotten to him and he was distant with her too."

"So this wasn't aimed specifically at you? And it was something he couldn't even talk about with your Mom? Was he always quite a private man?"

"Not excessively so; but, compared to other people he might have seemed like that. He didn't give a lot of himself away and he and Mom weren't that demonstrative in public. At home though, it was a different matter." I smiled ruefully.

"They loved each other?"

"Just a bit." I laughed.

"Awkward moments?" Heather grinned.

"Several."

"That's good isn't it? It may be slightly embarrassing but I think it's nice to know that your parent's marriage is good and strong."

"At his age!" I snickered.

"Now now, sex isn't the preserve of the young. They can't have been that old? Forties, fifties?"

"Dad was over a hundred."

Heather laughed. "Kids. Anything over forty these days and they treat it like it's prehistoric." Our food arrived then and Heather tucked in to hers, while I chased mine around the plate with the usual ambivalence.

I'd spent the last six months constructing a wall between myself and my parents, insulating myself from the abandonment I felt. Mom contacting me and telling me that there were problems had shown up cracks in the mortar. Thoughts and feelings had started to leak through again. To have Heather go straight for the happy memories kicked a great big hole in it.

I'd been desperately hurt by the way they'd acted at Christmas and their lack of communication had been exacerbated by my pig-headedness. Dad wasn't talking about what was on his mind, either to me or to Mom. I channelled all my anger, sadness, irritation and sense of loss in his direction; magnifying every flaw he had and adding that to the evidence against him. Edward Cullen was a useless father and here was my dossier of why. But here, allowing myself to think about the good times before all the mess, made me realise that he didn't have a scrap of form when it came to being the ogre I'd made him out to be. He'd been nothing but the kindest, most supportive and loving Daddy he knew how to be. What daughter could wish for anything more? I'd made him out to be the villain of this whole thing, when he had unspoken difficulties of his own and I wasn't blameless in all this by any means.

I'd never had a problem with Dad until I'd gone to live with Grampa. Not even with his skill of reading minds. I'd always found it comforting that I didn't need to endlessly explain myself. Dad just knew exactly what I meant, without me having to use words or even lift a finger to touch his cheek. Sometimes words weren't adequate to explain feelings, but Dad would always know exactly what I was getting at, even if I couldn't articulate it well enough in speech. Of course, my own skill of being able to show people my thoughts, which I used so rarely now, had been good for cutting through the language barrier too. But with Dad, it was different; it was like he completely understood me. Now he barely knew me. Jake had said I'd changed. Did anyone know me now? Had I let anybody get close to me so they could know me? No; on both counts. I'd done a wonderful job in snarling everything right up into one hell of a mess and I wondered if this diner served humble pie? It looked increasingly like I needed to eat a very large slice.

"And what about your Mom? Seems unfair to leave her out of things? She must have been feeling unsettled by your Dad's distance?"

"Yes she was. She was struggling with it. The last time we talked she was hoping that they could start to fix it, but just getting him to talk seemed to be the battle. He wouldn't open up to her and that was just… odd. They were so completely…" I faltered and tears sprang from my eyes as I thought about their relationship; how good it had been and how much I knew it was hurting Mom that it was falling apart. She had gone through so much to be with him and now, it was all disintegrating. If she Dad split permanently where would she go? She couldn't go back to live in Forks or to her own Mom. I didn't want her living a lonely life or even worse, turning into one of the nomadic vampires.

I didn't want what she'd had a child, the endless shuttling between parents. I didn't want to have to choose between spending Christmas with Mom or Dad; I wanted them together, under one roof. Mom and Dad being apart was just wrong! It upset me even to think about it. I hoped their meet up before Anna and Seth's wedding had worked. Alice had said they were on their way in. But perhaps she'd been lying for them and they weren't coming at all? Perhaps they didn't want to play happy families when things were so bad between them? I hadn't stuck around to find out. I tried to fight back my tears.

"Looks like their deaths came at the worse possible time for you? Uncertainty where there once was stability. I can understand your difficulties with it. But they're dead and I don't think roaming the country is going to get you any answers. It doesn't matter where you are; you are not going to be able to run away from people who are dead. This is all inside you and needs to come out. Perhaps a grief counsellor may help?"

"Possibly."

"Ness? What's it going to take for you to go home? Is there somebody who's worrying about you who'd appreciate a call right now, to say you're ok?" Grampa would, but I didn't want to call Grampa. I knew who I wanted to call. I wanted to call Dad. I had to deal with this.

"Yes, I could call someone."

"Make the call Ness and go home. I don't know anybody who wouldn't welcome back someone who could admit they'd got it wrong and wanted to come home. Running away serves nothing. Going back and dealing with it will get results. Promise me you'll call them."

"I promise."

"Good!"

This was not going to be easy, but this had to be done. I was a Cullen and that stood for something. It stood for honour and integrity and family. I wanted things back how they were and I had to do whatever it took to get them there. I hadn't read the bit that Heather had asked me to read in the Bible last night; but oddly, one of the bits that I had, was that very such sentiment. That it was important to do your utmost to live at peace with people. I hadn't been trying hard enough to do that.

What good was it doing, adding more problems into an otherwise difficult situation by being obstinate? I'd left my family to care for Jess, left her alone with a bunch of people, vampires even, than she didn't know and had made the situation worse by disappearing. That wasn't showing me as a person worthy of the name of Cullen and that was the name I'd been born with.

"Well, that was delicious and I'm sorry but I have to go. I have a flight to get." Heather collected her things together. I started to get up. "No, you haven't finished your food yet, you stay. You can work out what you're going to say on the phone." She smiled broadly and placed a twenty dollar bill on the table and I pushed it back at her.

"Please, let me pay for this, you've done so much for me."

"I don't think I did anything, I think you did it all just by getting a little perspective. I'm sure you'll find that everything will work out fine in the end. It may not work out how you want it to or how you expect it to, but it will work out; eventually. "Goodbye Ness, take care."

"Goodbye and thank you."

"You're welcome. Anytime."

Heather left the diner and as the door closed behind her I realised she had forgotten the keychain. I grabbed it and ran out into the rain after her. I ran right and left but she was nowhere to be found. It was like she'd vanished into thin air. I retreated back inside, confused, pulling the keychain out of the bag and looking at it. It was a crystal angel. Above the dangling figure was an inscription on a little metal square. I read it.

Some have extended hospitality to angels without ever knowing it.

I raised my eyebrows at that. Surely not? Surely she wasn't? Angels? That was even more far-fetched than vampires.

I looked over to the family sat at the adjacent table. One of his children was feeding Daddy his breakfast and that reminded me. It was Father's Day and I had a call to make. I took the angel keychain with me.

I left the diner, jogging through the rain back to my hotel, looking everywhere for the sight of a large blue suitcase, but I didn't see one. In the lobby of the hotel I jumped into a conveniently waiting elevator, pressed button three, and leant back against the rail at the back, thinking about exactly what I would say to Dad. Well, obviously hello and sorry would have to figure in the first sentence. There would most likely be some yelling at me, I could cope with that, I deserved it. There may be a lot of awkward questions about Jess, but I'm sure they'd have pretty much gotten to know her by now. Hopefully she'd have explained that she hadn't told me about Randall. Mom had never told Grampa what Dad was, so he could hardly chew me out for that.

The doors of the elevator slid open on the third floor, and standing right in front of them, arms pressed to the walls either side, blocking my exit, was the filthy blond male vampire who had attacked me on Tuesday. Just looking into his bright red eyes filled me with terror.

"Carlo wants to see you."