In the Debris
Ruins
Victoria
The glow from windows and porch lamps light our way, shining over us as if offering warmth where there isn't any. It's so freezing, the air misty-wet, the wind beating. We climb concrete steps to the apartment where James knocks. I face him, pressing my forehead into his sweatshirt. His hand comes to the back of my head.
When the door opens, I spin around. A woman with a mop of brown hair is tightening the belt of her robe. "Yes?"
I let James speak, or wait for him to. "We're looking for Charlotte Mayes."
"Who's looking for her?"
"I'm her daughter," I say.
"Victoria?" She reaches into the pocket of her robe, puts on a pair of glasses and then pulls me into the apartment. "Oh my god, honey. Do you remember me? God, I haven't seen you since you were, what? Four or five?" She pulls my arms out to the side, scanning me up and down. "Look at you. You're beautiful. Look at you."
She's not that beautiful. Or she might be, in a different state. But right now, behind her glasses, her eyeliner is all smudged, and half gone, like it's leftover from yesterday. Her hair is a nest on top of her head, as if she put it into a loose bun and then slept in it. Her robe is thin and tattered, stretched out so that it lays in an uneven line down by her calves, almost like scalloped edges. I wonder how old it is. I wonder when it was last washed. "Are you Maggie?"
"Do you remember me?" She puts her hands on my face, some of my hair scrunched up in between. I want her to take her hands off me.
"Sorry, I don't." I step away from her touch. When I glance down, her feet are bare, her toenails a bit too long.
"It's late, isn't it? What time is it? Are you hungry? Who's your friend? He looks like Kurt Cobain… but cleaner." She laughs as if we might join her, as if we're in any mood to laugh. I force a smile and feel James' fingers on mine at the same time.
I introduce her to James. "Is my mom here?"
Her eyebrows reach for each other. "I'm sorry. She left last month. She wasn't doing too well."
"Where did she go?" I look around. It's all one big brightly-lit room: living room, kitchen, dining area, and then the hallway, dark.
"I mean, she just went. Packed up and went. You know your mom."
"No, I don't." My blink is long as I try to keep my voice controlled. My jaw doesn't seem to want to open, so I speak between my teeth. "Where?"
"Maybe back to Arizona. I can find out for you. I'd have to make some calls."
"But she was living here? Is that true?"
She nods, distracted, like the question isn't worth thought, isn't worth an answer. "You two should stay here tonight. You can have her room." She claps her hands like that's the best idea. She insists we stay and when I look up at James, he agrees. After we bring our bags in, we admit we're hungry. We came right from the rehab, no stops. Maggie searches for food but can hardly find anything that isn't take-out and half-eaten.
"I'll scramble you up some eggs." She pulls an egg container out of the fridge.
I tell her not to go to too much trouble.
"You know what's trouble? All the damn moisture here." She whisks up the eggs, takes a pan out of the drying rack next to the sink, and turns the stove on. "I had to get rid of the last wooden adirondack chair out on my terrace. Not even that old. The air here, it eats at wood like termites. I'm replacing everything with metal and plastic. I tell ya. Not as pretty, but pretty doesn't last long here when we're talking wood. Not unless you want to sand it and restain it all the damn time." She pauses to scramble up the eggs and slip them onto plates, but then talks all the way through our meal.
Pouring us orange juice, she talks. Taking our plates to the sink, she talks. I'm pretty sure James hasn't said a word since we brought our bags in.
After we're done, James and I shut ourselves in my mom's old room, and I immediately hate it. I try to ignore my hatred by showering in the adjoining bathroom and then climbing into bed, pretending it's any old bed. But I can't get comfortable.
It's not as if I can feel my mom here; she's not like a ghost or anything, it just feels like some stranger's place. But knowing she lived here is enough to make me squirm.
"Did you see her? She looks strung out. And did you hear her? She sounded like she was rolling. I hate staying here with someone who most likely used right along with my mom."
James pulls me against his body, and kisses the side of my face. "Just think of it as saving money."
My head on his shoulder, I try to sleep but even close to James, with his fingers tickling my arm, I can't.
I sit up. "I can't sleep here, James. Not on this bed. I'll never fall asleep."
"How about the floor?"
"Do you think it's clean?" It doesn't look dirty, but something about this whole place makes my skin crawl like a million microscopic bugs trampling all over my body.
Rubbing his scruffy chin, he sits up. He hasn't shaved since before we left. "Do you want to leave? Get a hotel?" His eyes are right on mine. "We can leave." He brushes his fingers over my forehead. "If that's what you want."
I think about this. She has information I need. "I guess we should stay. On the floor." We get up and he lays the comforter on the floor and tosses the pillows down, while I rip the top sheet off the bed. We cover ourselves, and I rest again against James. But I don't sleep. Not a wink.
I lay and wait for morning, poem after poem taking shape in my head all night long. It seems like forever passes before the first fleck of light sneaks through the window. And I'm up, getting dressed, brushing my teeth. I let James sleep.
Maggie offers us Cheerios for breakfast and tells me that my mom isn't where she thought she'd be.
"Got off the phone ten minutes ago."
I put my spoon down. "Well, where is she?" Unable to just sit, I stand up. James does, too.
"Don't know. This is what she does. She's not someone easy to chase around, she moves too much."
"Why does she move all the time?"
She sighs. "I asked her that once. I said, 'Stand still. Just stand still for five minutes.' She told me... she said she's chasing after who she wants to be and running away from who she is."
"Her whole life, though?"
"Some people, Victoria, they're like haunted by their past. You let too many opportunities get by, make too many mistakes, and all you're doing all the while is getting older."
"But don't you have any other ideas where she'd go?"
"You just have to wait. That's how it is. Eventually she comes back. She always comes back."
I can't stop my glare. "Not to me. She never. Comes back. To me!"
I walk out to the terrace. I hate that she's not doing more to find my mom. I hate that she remembers me and I don't remember her. I hate everything about her and I don't even know her. There's a small round grill in the corner that I want to push over the edge. I put both my hands on it, ready to push.
"Hey." His voice is soft, like it's part of the wind, the kind of sound you're not sure you really heard. But he touches my shoulder and I know he's there. Turning around, I fall into his arms.
"We've wasted our time. It's a wasted trip." Why am I surprised? "We wasted our - our money. We told stupid lies. We-"
"Shh. Victoria, hey, listen." He pulls back from me, his hands holding my face, fingers woven into my hair. "I've been thinking. Let's pretend this is just a vacation, that there's no reason for it but getting away."
"Pretend? Yeah, I'm good at that. Look how I pretend. I pretended I might find my mom so hard that we both believed it."
"Okay, then not pretend. Let's change it. The reason we're here. Not for pretend, for real, from now on and until we get home. We're just roaming, like you said you wanted to do. We're on vacation. You and me."
"Vacation?"
"Think about it." His fingers wrap around the backside of my hand pulling it to his chest. "We're together now. You had us make that pact. It's not wasted, is it?"
I turn my hand around so that we're palm to palm. "No, it isn't."
"See?"
He smiles at me. He's actually smiling, and it's probably the thing my heart needs most in this moment.
"James..." I look away from him so that I don't start crying.
"Yeah?" His fingers lace with mine.
"I-I'm glad you're here."
His other arm encircles me, pressing me to his chest, our joined hands squishing between us. "I wouldn't be anywhere else."
We decide to bundle ourselves up and go to the beach, since that's what people do on vacation.
Before we leave, Maggie tells me she'll let me know if she hears from my mom. Pressing my number into her phone, I tell her I won't be holding my breath.
I stop in front of the door. If Maggie knew me when I was little, maybe she knows who my dad is. I turn around and ask. But she tells me that my mom doesn't even know.
"How can someone not know who they've slept with? Because that's how you make a baby. You have sex. You're aware of it when you're doing it. I think you'd know who's on top of you or under you at the time."
"Maybe it's that she didn't want to know," Maggie says. "Or didn't want to face it."
"You know what? She sounds like the most selfish person in the world. And I kind of feel blessed that I don't know her. Don't waste your time looking for her. I'm done with this."
In the car I tell James I'm giving up smoking weed. "I'm not going to end up like my mom. Not anywhere close to that."
"You wouldn't."
"How do you know?"
"I wouldn't let you."
Watching the road, I almost don't say it. But almost really doesn't mean anything. "And we all just let my mom become what she is?"
"No." He glances my way. "No." He picks up my hand and kisses my knuckles. "No." Setting our hands between us, our fingers intertwine. "I just meant, I know you and I know me. Forget it. If you want to stop smoking, then stop. But just... don't think you're like your mom. Because you're not."
The truth is, it would be nice to get high right now. Maybe even perfect.
"I don't know. I'm getting the feeling that anyone can become like her. Anyone at all in the right—or wrong—circumstances."
"Not anyone. Just some people."
Edward
Max looks good in a suit. I keep bugging him about it because he hates wearing it. He can't wait to take it off. The first thing he does in the banquet room is drape his jacket over the seat where his place card is, and then he loosens his tie.
He wanders off with a couple of guys his age.
A band is starting up on a stage at the far end, the banquet hall filling fast. I'm on the lookout for Isabella. I'm pretty sure Victoria's aunt and uncle will be here, too. Them, I'll avoid to keep from having to answer any questions.
"You remember Heidi," my father says, his hand on my shoulder. I turn around. He knows full well I remember her. "And Dr. and Mrs. Fielding."
I shake their hands.
"They'll be dining with us."
I clamp my teeth down and try not to let my expression change. I search the hall again for Isabella, tilting my head to look around suits and dresses. I don't think she's here yet.
"Hi, Edward," Heidi says, bringing my attention back to her. Our parents have gone off, leaving the two of us alone.
About a thousand ways this night can go wrong flash-flood my head. My past is here, Heidi, not only catching up with my present, Isabella, but my future. It's one thing to tell someone about your past, it's a whole other thing for that person to see it.
This is what my father's planned. But so far, it's salvageable. Every move I make and everything I say just has to be calculated so that nothing happens to hurt Isabella. I can't relax or let my guard down once.
"What's up?" I say. She's grown her hair, it's hitting her shoulders, and she looks off, like someone new, someone I don't know.
"You look handsome. Really good." Sliding an arm through mine, she leads me toward double doors that open to a balcony. I take her hand, open it and free my arm, stopping where I am between two tables before we make it outside.
"Why have you been away so long? My bed's been cold without you." She steps toward me, her hand going for my crotch, making it there before I can block her. Stepping back, I shove her hand away. No matter what, she can't get a reaction out of me. If I so much as twitch at her touch, I'll feel like the biggest asshole on the planet. I hold onto her wrist for a minute, making sure she keeps her hand by her side.
"I have a girlfriend," I say, almost like it's one long word, and I'm blocking myself below the belt as if I'm about to get kneed in the balls.
"If it was a girlfriend you wanted, you should've just said something." She lifts her head and closes her eyes slowly. I remember this look. I look away. I look around for Isabella again.
"She'll be here tonight. Can you just... I don't want to be rude, but can you just stay away from her? Please?" And this is me actually pleading. It comes out almost like a whine.
"Edward." The sound of her voice, like she's offended, brings my eyes to hers again. "What do you think I'm going to do?"
"Maybe nothing. But Isabella. She's different, okay? She's..."
Heidi closes her eyes for a second. "Different? Meaning better? Meaning innocent? Different how? Different in that you wouldn't take and take from her, and then just drop her like an old shoe. Different like that?"
This is going all wrong. I should shut my mouth. You don't imply to a girl that another girl is better than her. I've dug my hole deeper. I'm opening the door to my father's trap and walking right into it.
"No. I'm sorry about that. I was wrong to treat you that way. I know that. You didn't deserve that."
"Right. I didn't deserve it then, and I definitely do not deserve to be treated like an old fuck-buddy now. We were more than that to each other—for like, years."
It was about a year and a half, but I'm not going to bother correcting her.
"Okay, I know. But that's over," I say. "It's been over for a long time." I haven't cracked a smile since I saw her, and maybe that was my first mistake. Maybe I should've approached her differently. But how? If I'd acted happy to see her, well, that could've been way worse than what I'm dealing with now.
"You know what would've been nice? If I had gotten that 'It's Over' memo. I was worried about you, you know?" Her head tilting, she reaches for my arm and I let her take it this time. "I wanted to be there for you. However you needed me." She lets go of my arm. "And you just acted like I was nobody. Nobody."
I don't know what to say so I just stare down at her.
"You could've at least returned a call. One call."
I move back to our table, pull a chair out, offering her a seat. It's Max's seat.
I sit next to her, my arms on my knees, leaning toward her. "I've thought that, too. I should've called. I-I had to deal with it on my own. But I should've at least told you that. I get it."
"You do seem different, don't you? Sweeter. You're sweet to her like this? She gets this part of you? I didn't even get a 'don't let the door hit you in the ass.'"
I sit up straight. "I said I was sorry." The words come out harsh, but forget it, this is getting annoying. Isabella will be here soon and I'm getting nowhere with Heidi.
"Oh." With her head cocked to one side, she's nodding. A sarcastic nod. "Well then, as long as you're sorry. They're just words. You say you're sorry. We leave here tonight and never talk again, right? That's how sorry you are. It's bullshit."
"What do we have to say to each other anyway? We've been talking in circles about the same damn thing for ten minutes."
"You're right. We don't have anything to say to each other." She gets up and walks away. I lean back in my chair, my legs straightening in front of me. Can tonight be over?
I head to the bar and order a shot.
The bartender tells me he's supposed to card anyone under thirty, but he's already pouring the tequila.
"I'm thirty-seven."
He drops the glass in front of me and I throw it back, and then do the same with a second one.
Through the doors directly across from me, Charlie and Renee walk in, Isabella right behind them. Something rushes at my chest. I feel this a lot when I see Isabella unexpectedly, but seeing her now, pale in the dark blue dress she promised, hugging her body in a way I'd want to wrap myself around her, my hand might be reaching for my chest as I walk right to her.
"Hi." I give her a kiss and a hug. Feeling silky material and then skin, her bare back, I rub there. "Be my date?"
"No dates tonight, Mister." She taps my nose.
"You're beautiful," I say and she repeats the compliment to me, pulling me out to the hallway.
"I have something for you."
People pay no attention to us, and we pay no attention to them as they enter the banquet room. They're nothing but blurs.
She slips something into my chest pocket.
Looking down at the pocket, I pull whatever it is out, some smooth white stone, not perfectly round and not much bigger than a quarter.
"Moonstone," she says. "Some people believe it contains shine from the moon inside." She touches my lips. "It's for luck." Her finger slips over my chin, down the middle of my throat. "For protection." Under my jacket, her hand presses against my chest. "For love that never stops, keep it close to your heart." She takes it from me, tucking it back into my jacket pocket.
I catch her hand and kiss it. I'm trying to figure out what this really is, this moonstone. Does she believe it does all she says it does? She can't believe it's actually a part of the moon.
She must notice some confusion in my face because she starts to explain more.
"Edward, it's - You tell me you love me and you need me. I'm giving you my love and my need. It's right there in your pocket."
Our fingers linked, I bring them up between us, up to my chest. "Hey, come here." I pull her into a kiss. "That's the best gift ever. So much better than hair conditioner."
She laughs.
Her hair is pulled up away from her neck, and I run the back of my finger up and down the side of her throat. "Thank you." I kiss her again until she says we should go into the party.
On our way in she tells me she got two texts from Victoria in the car tonight.
"One said no mom yet, and the other said love. Do you think that means. Does that mean...?"
"What do you think it means?"
"It could mean a lot of things, but I hope it means James."
Not even five minutes inside and Heidi's already looking at us from the other side of the room. Isabella notices, too. "Some pretty girl is staring at us."
"Yeah, she's this girl I used to—sort of—date. She's kind of the opposite of you."
"And what am I?"
"Awesome."
Heidi's coming closer.
I think that maybe if I never make eye contact she'll go away.
"Are you Edward's girlfriend?" No such luck.
My arm is fast around Isabella's waist and I pull her in close to my side.
Heidi introduces herself and reaches for Isabella's hand. They shake.
"I'm his ex," she says, and then laughs. "Well, I'm not sure if ex is the right word since we never officially broke up." She has a smile on her face that doesn't give away any sarcasm. "I mean, what would you say? Someone starts treating you like he can't even see you. Like you're nothing but dirt from the ground. That might be an official break up, right?"
"Heidi." I start and stop. I want to say that we were never anything official, but I don't want to make this worse, or her worse.
I run my hands up Isabella's ribcage and back down to her waist where I squeeze her even closer to me. I hope she feels what's meant in this touch.
"Oh, how could I forget?" She hits her hand to her forehead. "You apologized a few minutes ago. At our table. Our knees were touching." She smiles at Isabella. My stomach clenches. "That makes everything better. I'm so silly." Hands on her hips, and with the smile still there, she shakes her head.
"It's nice to meet you," Isabella says, seeming unaffected by Heidi. "His knees touch mine all the time. I can see how that would make everything better."
Then Heidi leans in and whispers something to Isabella that makes her smile fall for the slightest second. It's back again so fast that if I hadn't been watching I'd have missed it. The whispering continues too long before Isabella says, "Thank you for the advice. I don't think I need it."
Heidi looks at me and then back at Isabella. "Trust me, you do," she says and walks away.
"What did she say?"
Avoiding eye contact with me she tells me she's going for a drink. "Do you want anything?" She sounds sweet and unbothered, while her evasive eyes say something else. I move in front of her, searching out eye contact, but she won't let me find it.
"I'll go with you."
"I just need a sec. I'll be right back." Still, nothing in her voice falters. She starts for the bar but I take her hand and spin her around.
I get flashbacks of the time my father called her garbage and I couldn't get her to talk to me.
"Don't do this. Tell me what she said."
She shakes her head.
"Please."
Even in her heels she has to stand on her toes to reach up to whisper to me. Not for long, though. I lean down for her. "She told me how you like to be touched."
So many things run through my head that I'd like to do right now, most of which involve me going off on Heidi, which will undoubtedly make everything spin further out of my control. "And how's that? What did she say, exactly?"
"She said you like it hard and rough and that she, um-" she pauses to swallow "-she taught you that."
"Bella…" She isn't meeting my eyes again. "Did she say anything else?"
"You heard the rest."
I lead her by the hand through the crowd out to the balcony.
I should probably consider myself lucky that Heidi didn't tell Isabella about how she touched me just a little while ago, spinning that into something it wasn't. What if she does tell her? And now I'm feeling guilty as hell over something I didn't want or ask for, but it's something I know and Isabella, my girlfriend, doesn't know. Is this something you tell a girlfriend? Do I tell her that Heidi grabbed my dick, even if I pushed her hand away so fast I barely felt it? But I did feel it. So, do I tell her? Even though I didn't want it? The fact is, I was assaulted. So is that what I say? Rational thought tells me the best thing to do is to keep my mouth shut and keep them away from each other, which means not leaving Isabella's side.
I find a spot for us in a corner of the balcony between two plants where nobody else is. There are a few smokers farther away from us, but we're well hidden by the plants. I take off my jacket and wrap it over Isabella's shoulders, and then I step closer, taking her hand and placing it on my crotch. I push against her hand. "I only like to be touched by you. You taught me what I love."
I gauge her reaction, having no idea if this is the way to bring her back to me or not.
One side of her lips lift. "Did you just get yourself a free feel?" She may be laughing, but she hasn't let go of me. In fact she's pressing her hand against me and giving me a squeeze. Surprised, I let out a quiet groan, my hand catching myself against the brick wall behind her. She rubs up and down a few more times and my head drops, my chin to my chest, as I push myself against her hand again. It's automatic. But then she pulls away.
"Don't stop," I whisper.
"Edward, we're in public. Our parents are here!"
"Shh, they're not out here and the jacket's hiding everything."
"Edward!"
I lower my forehead to her shoulder laughing. "You're a tease." I kiss the side of her neck.
"You started it."
With her touch off me, my senses clear and I'm reminded why I started it. "Don't let her get to you. She's doing it on purpose."
"I know."
"I might deserve it, but you don't."
She kisses me. "You don't deserve it. Whatever was between you and her, it's finished. She should've gone on with her life by now."
"But she's jealous because I chose you over her. Not that there was any competition, but that's how she sees it. She let me know that before you got here."
"You know what I think? We've given her too much of our attention already."
"See what I mean when I say you're awesome?"
She tells me she has to go to the bathroom and I walk her there, feeling like I should stand guard. I spot Heidi on the other end of the room talking with some dudes and so I feel okay to walk the few feet to the bar and order another shot.
This Heidi thing won't get off my mind, though. As long as she's here she's a threat. And she'll be here all night.
I wish there was someone I could ask for advice, but there's no way I'm talking to my father about this. My eyes land on Esme, standing with a small group next to my father. I do three more shots before Isabella's out of the bathroom.
"You're drinking?"
I answer by ordering two more shots and passing one to her. We shoot it together, and I smile at her.
"Just for tonight."
We toss back one more shot and then I say, "Hey, do me a favor and dance with Max for a song or two?"
She smiles like it's a fun idea and I look for Esme. She's the only person I can ask.
Standing behind her, I have to wait for a pause in the conversation before I can take her aside.
I tap her shoulder. "Can I ask you a personal question?"
She asks me if I've been drinking.
I fold my arms across my chest and face the floor. "I need some advice, from a woman, I think."
I look up to see her tilt her head at me, and I can tell what's running through her mind. She's remembering that I don't have a mother and she's my mother figure. The same thing is running through my mind. "This is all - this is - it's hypothetical," I say, even though I know she's smart enough to figure out the truth. And I tell her as coherently as possible in my current tequila-induced state, what happened in my "hypothetical" situation.
"Does the guy tell his girlfriend, or not?"
"If he tells her, she'll be hurt."
I know this much already.
"But if he doesn't tell her," she says, "and she finds out some other way, she'll think there's more to the story. She'll wonder why he didn't tell her, what he has to hide."
"But if he doesn't tell her..." I point at her. "And she never finds out from - another way, the only other way…"
"Then you're safe," she says.
"And not guilty?"
All she does is look at me. No answer.
Why do I feel so guilty? I walk away from Esme, back to the bar, in no changed position from before our talk. Except now I'm humiliated that Esme knows.
I take another shot. "Last one," I tell the bartender, or myself. How many is that?
"I've poured you seven."
"Seven."
"'Fraid so."
I sit on a stool waiting for Isabella to return from dancing with Max, until I notice she's done dancing with Max, and she's talking, face to face, with Heidi.
"What the fuck?" With edges of my vision blurred, I rush over, taking Isabella's hand. "I have to talk to you." And I glance over at Heidi. "Stay the fuck away from her-" I lower my voice and get a little closer "-all right?"
I don't wait for an answer, pulling Isabella back out to the balcony, over between the plants.
"What did she say this time?"
"Nothing."
"Tell me."
"Nothing, Edward. She was being kind of nice this time. She said she was sorry about before."
"Okay, okay, look. She's playing some kind of- something - like a game, and I have to tell you something."
She's looking at me with narrowed eyes, what looks like apprehension. I don't know how to say it, how to soften the blow, so I just spit it out. Or so I think.
"Before you got here, she, you know." I make a raised eyebrow face that I'm sure tells her exactly what Heidi did.
"She what?"
"Touched me."
"What do you mean? Your knees?"
"She grabbed me."
"Grabbed you?"
"Grabbed my junk."
"Edward, what?"
"She grabbed my dick, okay? I didn't see it coming, but I pushed her hand away as soon as I could, and this has been eating at me all night, so I had to tell you."
"Are you serious right now, or drunk?"
"Both." I search her eyes, try to get a read on what she's thinking or feeling. She's too silent. "Bella?"
"What else?"
"No, nothing else. I swear I didn't feel anything. Except, like fear, or disgust. That's it. My guy didn't even move an inch. Nothing."
"Your guy?"
"Do you want me to say my dick again?"
She flinches.
"Fuck, I'm sorry. I should've told you this sober."
"She seriously grabbed you?"
"It was fast - you - like this." I show her with my own hand what it looked like, and I show her with my other hand how I pulled Heidi's hand off me. "Fast. See?"
When there's no reaction, I close my eyes. It must not have sunk in yet, and I brace myself for when it does.
"What a bitch."
I open my eyes. "Yes. Yeah, she is a bitch. Right?"
"She assaulted you."
"Yes! That's what I thought, too!" I'm smiling. Too big, I realize, when I see that Isabella isn't smiling. She's frowning.
"And then she had the nerve to tell me how you, how you like to be touched? She did that on purpose. Because you pushed her hand away!"
My eyes go wider. That's something I didn't even put together. "You're a genius."
She laughs at that, and I'm so relieved to hear her laugh that I kiss her, and I'm so relieved that she kisses me back that I kiss her deeper, my arms wrapping around her.
"Edward."
"Yeah?" I kiss her again.
"I need a drink. Go get us a bottle of whatever, and keep that bitch away from me."
"You got it. Wait here, beautiful. My beautiful. My Bella."
She laughs again.
"You're so goddamn fucking beautiful when you laugh. When I want to see you laugh and you're - you laugh, there's nothing more beautiful."
"Go get a bottle, you drunk."
When I get back to our spot, Isabella's missing. I turn circles a few times wondering what happened, if I should wait here or go looking for her. I'm about to go with the latter when I spot her returning with a styrofoam cup in her hand.
"I know you don't drink it," she says, "but I think you should, just this once. For me?"
I wag the bottle at her. "Champagne."
"I think this is what you need." She takes the bottle from me and pushes the coffee into my hand.
I hold the cup up, trying to make out what I'm seeing. "They have styrofoam in there?"
"They had a choice, this or porcelain. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out you need something non-porcelain."
I smell it. "You want me to drink this?"
"Remember that night of your party when you took care of drunk me? Well, now it's my turn." She places a hand on my shoulder. "You don't drink. Remember? I think the only reason you're drinking tonight is because of what your ex-girlfriend did."
"Not girlfriend."
"Okay, your ex-not-girlfriend. But we both have to go home with our parents tonight, and we probably shouldn't do that drunk. And think of Max. As cute as you are right now, you don't want him to see you like this. I know you don't. Drink the coffee. Sober up. And then we'll eat dinner. And that's that."
"She's sitting at my table for dinner."
"Edward." She touches my face. "You've never given me a reason not to trust you. Don't worry so much." Her hand off my face she pushes my cup toward my lips. "Drink."
I drink it. "It's bitter."
"And tequila is the sweetest thing ever, right? Man up."
With an arm around her, I take another sip and lead her to a patio table, sitting her on my lap. She sets the champagne bottle down. "I thought tonight was going to be a royal fucking mess."
"Well, it kind of has been, but it doesn't have to end that way."
I kiss her. We kiss until she takes my hand with the coffee cup and pushes it toward my mouth again, replacing her lips with it. I drink some more.
At dinner, Heidi doesn't even look at me, and still drunk, I have to remind myself not to say anything that comes to mind, so I end up not saying anything at all to anyone. I just eat, and look over my shoulder every once in awhile at Isabella over at her table. Sometimes she's looking back at me, too.
"You're smiley tonight," Esme says to me. "Looks like everything worked out okay."
"What?" I hear my father say as I push another bite of steak into my mouth. I don't say a word.
"Why shouldn't he smile?" Heidi says. "He has a really lovely girlfriend."
My eyes don't leave my plate.
"It's too bad you two couldn't work something out," her dad says, which makes my dad fake a laugh.
I pick up my glass of water and break my vow of silence. "Hey Max?" I raise my water glass to him. "Don't let anybody try to control you. They'll try. Oh, they'll try. Trust it." I glance at my father. "But you don't let it happen. Okay, buddy?"
Max's eyebrows raise and he glances around the table like I might have embarrassed him.
"You just stick to that water, there." My dad pats my arm. "Okay, buddy?" Maybe Max wasn't the only one I embarrassed.
I fall back into my silent, staring at my plate place.
Our family is the last to leave. It's our job to shake too many hands and say goodbye and thank you to too many people. I kiss Isabella as she passes, though. I like that part. She smiles, hands me back my jacket, touches my lips and waves. I check the pocket for the moonstone. It's still there.
.
In nothing but a tank top and light purple panties, one leg hidden under covers, her arms pushed up under her pillow, Isabella's sleeping in my bed when I get home. I can't keep myself from running a hand down her hair, spread all around her, down her arms and back, and then I rub back and forth over her lace-pantied ass a few times. She releases a soft sigh through her nose, I'm hoping in response to my touch, but other than that she doesn't move.
I take off my jacket and throw it over my chair, heading for the bathroom.
Jane might have still been here to let Isabella in, and if not, Isabella knows the alarm code, so I understand how she's in my bed, but I have no idea how she got to my house in the first place. I didn't see her truck outside. I brush my teeth, undress, dropping my clothes on the floor next to Isabella's, and then slide into bed on my side, pulling her close.
"Bella," I whisper against her throat. "Someone left a present in my bed."
She stretches, smiling, eyes still closed. "I wanted to sleep with you tonight."
Her hand rests against the side of my neck. I slide my hand up under the back of her shirt, and I press her closer. "How did you get here?"
Her leg lifts over mine. "I drove."
I kiss her. "Where's your truck?"
"In the trees."
I laugh and kiss her again.
"You taste like toothpaste." I pull her hips against me.
Her voice shakes. "So do you."
My hand slips easily up her shirt and down again, down her waist, her hips, her thighs.
I kiss near her ear. "Bella, Bella, My Bella, your skin is so soft." I roll her onto her back, hold her arms above her head and kiss over her neck until she squirms. She wiggles her arms free from my hold so she can wrap them around me, and I move down, push her shirt out of the way and kiss her stomach. "How do you get it this soft?"
Her laugh is quiet, her stomach tensing up and I kiss the tense out of it.
I make my way back to her mouth and kiss her soft and then hard and then soft again.
"Edward," she says and it's just a breath. "Edward." She pushes me to my back and climbs on top of me. "You kiss like..."
"Like what?" My hand on the back of her head, I bring her lips to mine.
"Like everything good."
Holding her waist I press her down against me as I lift my hips. Still some of my drunk hanging around, my groan is too loud.
"Shh." She kisses me.
"Lift up," I tell her so I can slide her panties down. As she helps get them off, I take my boxers off, too, and then I'm inside her and with no need for condoms anymore, it's just skin. I must be breathing too loud again because she covers my mouth with her hand, releasing it only to kiss me and then covering it again because I'm still too loud the whole time.
It isn't until we're finished that I realize I never even removed her tank top.
