A Rough Start
Chapter 37 – I Knew You Were Waiting for Me
The first snow in the new house came and went with Anthony and Edward's massive snowman decorating the front lawn for weeks.
Another staple at the Cullen-Swan home came with less fanfare or declaration. It started off slowly; tentatively. Esme would appear briefly on a Wednesday or Saturday afternoon, stopping in on her way to the store to drop off a trinket or two that she'd collected for Anthony. Or she'd see an article or recipe that reminded her of a conversation she'd had with Bella and she'd drop it by, sure that Bella would be most interested in having such an item.
And then, one rainy Saturday, Edward extended an invitation for Esme to stay for lunch, which she readily accepted. Just like that, it became a standing invitation for every Saturday thereafter, and unless Edward and Bella had plans that took them away, Esme was at their house, rain or shine, sleet or hail.
It was a particularly wet day in mid-February, while Edward was away working a rare overtime shift, that Bella was taking a brief break from wedding planning to look over the upcoming lessons she'd planned for her kindergarten class. Esme and Anthony sat at the dining room table a few feet from her, playing a game of Chutes and Ladders. Anthony's bleats of victory seeped through the edges of Bella's consciousness as she rethought an upcoming section she'd be teaching on family history.
She could clearly see the tree diagram as if it were displayed before her. The children were to write their names on a branch and then continue to draw and associate various family members: dad, mom, sister, brother, etc.
It wasn't really the issue of putting Anthony in the position of choosing whom he would define as mom, Jessica or herself, which had Bella second-guessing her teaching – it was the family association that identified Esme, his father's mother, as Anthony's grandmother.
Enough time had passed for Anthony to have grown accustomed to referring to Esme as "Mis-mey", a family friend. Even though Edward had once said that Esme was his mother, he never addressed her as such, nor did anyone else. Bella wondered what it would do to the level of trust Anthony had for her and Edward if he were to suddenly put two and two together and realize that it was his grandmother he had been having so much fun with on all those Saturday afternoons.
"Oh, how beautiful." Esme came up beside Bella, undetected, and noticed the photos of the decorative lanterns Bella wanted to get for the wedding in June.
"They're practical, too," Bella quickly stated. "Since we're having the wedding and the reception in the backyard, the aroma of the mint and lavender will keep flies away."
"Beautiful and smart."
Esme reached over and tucked a strand of Bella's hair behind her ear and it was then that Bella realized the comment had been meant for her and not the lanterns.
"Thank you, Esme," Bella whispered.
Esme didn't allow the silence between them to become awkward. Instead, she smoothed out her skirt and took a seat beside Bella at the small kitchen table. A few minutes before, she'd set Anthony free with a dull pair of scissors and an old magazine and instructed him to cut out every single animal he found, with the promise of assembling a zoo when he was done.
"If that works, I'm going to try it as a rainy day activity center in my class," Bella said as she glanced over her shoulder at Anthony.
"Oh it works," Esme assured. "Edward used to sit for hours when he was little, cutting up my old magazines. Of course, he only cut out all the cars, truck and tractors, but it kept him busy."
Bella looked down at the table awkwardly as she allowed Esme's words to drift over her. It was so refreshing to get a glimpse of an unbroken Edward, and as long as she kept her eyes on the grain of the table before her, she could see him so vividly. But she knew the moment she lifted her eyes to Esme's, she'd be reminded of the tumult that colored the edges of her eyes, as it did those of her son.
"I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?" Esme misinterpreted Bella's lack of eye contact.
"No," Bella rushed in. "No, of course not." She shook her head to emphasize her words. "It's just…rare to hear of Edward that way. He doesn't talk about his childhood a lot."
Esme offered a wilted smile. "I'm hoping one day he'll fill in the gaps for me as well, but I can tell he isn't ready for that. And I can also tell that he's not quite ready for me to fill in any gaps for him either."
Bella gazed at Esme then, and allowed herself to see her apart from the filter Edward had provided.
She caught a foretaste of a woman who loved and wasn't loved in return; a mother who nurtured an empty nest long before it was due and wife married to the mere memory of her husband.
"Are…are you ready to fill in those gaps?" Bella treaded.
Esme started to respond but then hesitated as she mulled over her answer.
"I think I understand what you're asking and to be completely honest," Esme paused to offer a soft chuckle, "I'd have to say I'll be ready as soon as Edward is."
When Bella frowned in confusion, Esme continued.
"I need to feel comfortable with how Edward sees me before I feel confident telling him some of the details of what his father and I went though…well what I went through, since I don't really know most of Carlisle's thoughts. But things like his sister's funeral – where she's buried; that kind of thing."
So badly Bella wanted to ask about the state of Esme's relationship with her husband, but she didn't, knowing that it could be construed as rude.
However, she also didn't want to be a go-between between Edward's past and present. Even though they hadn't discussed it, Bella felt that it would be unfair to Edward if she caught his mother up on his life – unfair to both Esme and Edward – because the discovery would be a healing process for both of them, and they deserved to have it completely and exclusively.
When it got quiet again between them, Bella wondered if Esme was thinking the opposite of what she was feeling, hoping that Bella would begin to dispel Edward's nuances. Yet when she cautiously glanced to her left, she saw that Esme was sternly focused on a few swatches of ribbon samples.
"I remember when I was planning my wedding," Esme sighed wistfully. "It was a happy, but stressful time."
Bella concurred immediately. "Why is it so stressful?" she asked harmoniously. "Edward and I are on the same page, we both want something small, and the details seem to be falling into place, but still, I'm anxious over it."
"It's just your mind's way of telling you what your heart already knows, I guess. Finding the one is a really big deal," Esme smiled.
"Did you have a big wedding?" Bella asked.
Esme nodded. "Oh yes. Carlisle's mother was sick, a condition she utilized to get every living wish she had until her dying day, and she wanted him to have a huge, church wedding. So we did. It was a monstrous fuss, but at the end of the day, I have to admit that it was one of the best weddings I've ever been to."
"Traditional?"
"Very. Vows, dress, veil, no seeing the groom for twenty-four hours beforehand- you name it, we did it."
"See, I think I'd be a nervous wreck if I couldn't see Edward right before the wedding. My mind would go nuts with all kinds of 'what-ifs'. I'm already nervous enough as it is."
"What's got you worried?" Esme asked easily.
And easy enough, the answer came.
"I think about all kinds of things," Bella confessed. "If Anthony will be okay with our marriage when he's old enough to understand what's happened. If our lives will change after the wedding. If we'll change after the wedding."
"But you know if you waste time worrying about the things you can't control, you miss out on experiencing the joy of the here and now." Esme looked over at Anthony, still busily snipping out animals, as if to emphasize her point.
"I do know that, but it doesn't stop me from thinking about things. And this past week, the school secretary told me she's getting a divorce. I used to hear her talk about her husband; they seemed so in love. And now…it just scares me a little. I mean, I can't imagine ever wanting to be without Edward." Bella turned to Esme, sure that she would see agreement in her fiancé's mother's features; but Esme sat motionless beside her.
"I almost divorced Carlisle…twice."
For some unknown reason, Bella was shocked at Esme's revelation.
"Really?" she asked, aghast.
Esme nodded. "Statistics show that most couples who go through the death of a child don't make it. They either turn on each other or turn in, internally by withdrawing into themselves. Well, Carlisle withdrew into himself.
"Initially, I didn't know what was wrong with him. All I knew was that my husband, my rock, was not there to help me when I most needed him. I had no one else to turn to and he'd completely shut me out. I was so angry because I thought that he blamed me. So I left." Esme stopped to take a sip of the coffee that Bella had set before her.
"What made you come back?" Bella asked.
"Of course I loved Carlisle and I was just hurt because I felt like he was rejecting me, so it was just a matter of time before a reason, or excuse rather, sent me right back to him. That excuse came in the form of a court date and I needed my tan suit. When I returned home to retrieve it, Carlisle was sitting on the floor in front of the door, wearing the same thing he'd been wearing the day I'd left. He didn't say anything to me when I walked back through the door. He just looked up at me with this fear in his eyes…it was the same fear I saw in Edward's eyes when he was taken away from us…" Unexpected tears halted Esme's speech, but she shook her head against the comfort that Bella hastened to offer her.
"I'm fine," she insisted before continuing on. "I realized then how much we needed each other and then a little bit after that, one of the court-appointed attorneys suggested that Carlisle be tested for mental instability. And of course when it was deemed that he was, unstable, that is, I couldn't dare leave him. You should see the lack of care people receive when they're completely dependent upon the system." Esme shuddered to emphasize her point.
"What was the other time?" Bella felt bolder in her questions, since Esme had initially brought up her desire to seek a divorce on more than one occasion.
Esme let out a small giggle. "We were newly married and had moved into a small apartment near the hospital where Carlisle was finishing his residency. Anyway, the place was a real dump and the owner said we could make any changes we wanted. So we wallpapered." Esme turned toward Bella with a serious expression on her face. "If I can give you no other advice, this is it: never wallpaper with your husband. I'm sure it's the number one cause of divorce in this country."
The two women shared a hearty laugh over the commandment and while Esme stole a glance at her watch, Bella looked up to notice a flash of bronze as a figure disappeared down the hallway.
She hadn't heard Edward enter through the front door, nor had Anthony sounded his usual alarm of a greeting. When Bella looked over at Anthony, she saw the reason for his silence: he was fast asleep on the living room floor amidst a myriad of magazines.
Bella took note of Esme but she seemed none the wiser that her son had slipped indoors, and Edward's stealthy entrance hinted that he'd heard a tidbit of his mother's words and that he was trying to put as much distance between himself and the vivid memory she'd painted.
Or perhaps he'd had a particularly sullying experience at work. In any case, Bella wanted to make certain that Edward greeted his mother before she left, and by the looks of her fidgeting, it looked as if that was going to occur at any second.
"Can you excuse me for a minute? I know you have to go, so I'll be right back."
Bella disappeared into the back and found Edward sitting in the middle of their bed, his hands clasped limply between his knees and his head leaning down to meet them.
"Babe?" Bella ran her hand over his neck and shoulders.
"I just need a minute, Bella, okay?" he asked hoarsely.
"Alright," Bella said acceptingly. She hesitated at the door and reminded Edward that his mother was in the kitchen and that she would be leaving soon. "Are you going to come out and say hello?"
"Tell her…I'll call her later in the week."
That was new. Edward was not one to offer to call anyone, let alone his mother, for a social chat. However, Bella thought it was the least he could do, so she offered no further comment least he realize what he'd said and retract what he'd put forward.
When Bella returned to the kitchen, Esme had moved toward the front door, and when she saw Bella, she pointed over at the sleeping Anthony with a loving compassion.
"Tell him I said to save the animals and we'll build the zoo the next time I visit."
"Will do," Bella smiled. She was about to give Edward's promise to her when Esme took a step out of the front door and spied Edward's car. She turned toward Bella with a confused look on her face; and if Bella's wisdom didn't defy her, there was a shimmer of hurt there as well.
"Edward's home?" Esme asked.
"He said he'd call you later this week," Bella said quickly. "I think he had a rough day at work." Bella was almost 99.9% sure that Edward's self-imposed isolation had nothing to do with work, but in that moment, Bella clung to the 0.01% of uncertainty that kept her conscience clear.
"He did?"
Bella saw the instant effect of her words reflected in Esme's eyes.
"Yes. Is there a certain time he should call?"
"Anytime. He can call me anytime, day or night," Esme said quickly and Bella could tell that she meant it.
After the news of Edward's intended phone call, it was easy to say good afternoon to Esme before dashing back inside to find out what was really wrong with Edward. Bella suspected that he'd overheard a portion of her conversation and it had made him uneasy, but when she asked him about it, he evaded the question by asking after Anthony.
"How long has he been asleep?" Edward moved toward the sleeping child and picked him up. His attempt to awaken him was obvious. "If he naps now, he'll never want to go to bed tonight."
A cranky and whiny Anthony was the result of his abrupt wakeup call, and Edward made it his duty to lift his son's spirits and keep him entertained for the rest of the evening. It might have just been a coincidence or he knew that Bella wouldn't try to get him to open up about what he might be thinking about in front of Anthony.
But right before dinner, when Anthony went off to the bathroom to wash his hands and Edward came in to sample the promising aroma, Bella questioned him again. Edward shook it off, and this time, a concern about the gutter at the back of the house was more important to discuss than what was wrong with Edward when he'd come home from work.
Clearly Edward didn't want to talk about it, and one too many conversations had been had about the way he shut her out when he felt the need. It was who Edward was, and he'd come a long way thus far, but it was times like the present that illustrated how far he had yet to go.
Bella didn't broach the issue again that evening, not because she knew the outcome would be similar, but because Edward's evasiveness was wearing on her, and just like Esme earlier that day, she felt a little sting of hurt.
"Mom, can I get out of the tub now?" Anthony called to Bella when he heard her walking down the hall. It wasn't all the time that Anthony called Bella 'Mom', but it was happening more and more frequently, and unless they were in the classroom, she welcomed every instance.
"Are you squeaky clean?" Bella asked.
"Yeah."
"Your toes, your nose and your elbows?"
Anthony giggled. "Yeah!"
"Okay, then you may let the water out and get out." Bella held open a large fluffy towel and Anthony stepped into its warmth.
After quickly helping Anthony with his pajamas and turning down his bed, Bella sent him off to say goodnight to his father, who had seemingly evaporated into thin air.
Anthony was only gone for two beats before he returned and catapulted himself into bed, not yet having grown weary of seeing his room illuminated with the plethora of glow-in-the-dark stars when Bella turned off the light.
"That was quick. Did you tell Dad goodnight?"
"Twice, because he didn't hear me the first time. He's just sitting in the garage staring at the wall," Anthony shrugged as Bella pulled the covers snuggly over Anthony.
Bella pretended to pout. "No fair! He got two goodnights and I only got one? How ever will I get through the night?"
Anthony laughed and held his arms up to Bella so he could hug her neck. When she leaned down, he also planted a kiss on her cheek and she did the same for him.
"I love you," she told him.
"Why?"
Bella was taken aback by the question, as she hadn't been expecting it.
"Why do I love you?" she reiterated.
Anthony nodded.
"Why, how could I not?" Bella did a poor impression of a Southern Belle. "To know you, one can't help but love you, Anthony Cullen."
But Bella's playful air did nothing to satisfy Anthony's curiosity, and so she smoothed his hair over his forehead and prepared to set his mind at ease in earnest.
"I love you, because your smile lights up my entire day," Bella began. "I love you because your hugs are the best in the world. I love you because your laugh is like a thousand rainbows. I love you because you always color my hair perfectly in your pictures-"
"I use my dark red and brown crayons because in the sun, sometimes your hair has red in it," Anthony interjected.
"Another reason I love you – you're so smart," Bella tapped the tip of his nose. "But mostly, I love you just because it would be impossible not to. You are a pretty wonderful person, Anthony."
And the resulting grin confirmed that she had answered his question to his satisfaction.
"Light out?" Bella asked as her hand hovered over the switch; but instead of answer her, Anthony had another question.
"Mom?"
"Yeah, lovebug?"
"How come Dad never says 'I love you' to me?"
For the second time that night, Bella was caught off guard. Her shoulders sank as she stared down at the carpet, wondering how, for the life of her, she'd do justice to that answer.
And then she heard a mattress shift and caught sight of a shadow moving in the bedroom down the wall. She knew that if she could hear the subtle sounds, then Edward could surely hear what was going on in Anthony's room as well.
And therefore he would know what it was up to him to do. But just in case he didn't…
"You know what, Anthony? That's a good question. I think you should ask your dad that the next time you see him."
However, if Edward had heard the exchange, he didn't let on that he had when Bella crossed through their room on her way to the shower. At the sight of him, Bella realized that she was pretty perturbed with Edward, and if he'd said the wrong word to her right then, they would quarrel most assuredly.
And so she locked herself in the bathroom and willed the steam of the hot water to take her troubled thoughts and hurt feelings with it as it circled and rolled heavenward.
Admittedly, she felt somewhat better at the end of her shower, but she still climbed into bed without a word to Edward and with her back turned toward him. She was sure he'd gotten the hint, so when he draped his arm over her waist and tugged her body closer to his, she was just a tad bit surprised.
"Tired?" he murmured before placing a soft kiss against her bare shoulder.
"Mm." Bella's mumble was unanswering.
Edward pressed his pelvis flush against Bella's backside and allowed the definition of his hardness to be a predecessor to his verbal request.
"Do you want to make love?" he whispered in his normal voice.
Bella, whose eyes had been shut tight, was suddenly staring at the window across the room in an attempt to reign in her emotions.
"Did you check the oil in the truck?" she asked.
"What?"
"The oil. In the truck. Did you check it?"
"Uh…yeah. Last week, why? Is something wrong with it?"
"No. I just wondered if you remembered to check it."
"Oh…Yeah, I did."
And then Edward was back to his earlier motivation – rubbing his hands along Bella's hips and thighs while peppering the back of her neck with kisses and soft nips of his teeth.
"So…you wanna?"
"Did you remember to go to the bank today?"
"What's going on?" Edward sat up and asked sharply. His all-too-disapproving tone let Bella know that he didn't appreciate having his advances thwarted.
"What? You mean having your questions totally ignored?" Bella craned her neck to look at him. "It's kind of annoying, isn't it?"
Bella resumed her earlier position and listened as Edward turned to lay flat on his back – a long, exaggerated sigh punctuating his movement.
"I don't always want to talk about things. You know that," he said gruffly.
"Yes, I do. And just like I acknowledge that about you, I would like you to acknowledge me when I ask you a question. It wouldn't kill you to simply say, 'I don't want to talk about it'."
Edward let out a disingenuous laugh into the darkness. "You know you wouldn't be okay with that."
"I would too."
"You would not. You'd try to get me to talk about it and then you'd be pissed off until I did."
"No, I wouldn't."
"Fine. I don't want to talk about it."
"You don't want to talk about what exactly? The fact that your mother was here when you got home, or the fact that…maybe you heard some of what she said?"
"Bella, I said I don't want to talk about it."
"Fine."
Bella punched her pillow – partly because it was too lopsided and partly because she was a tiny bit pissed off.
"You're mad."
"I am not mad."
"You don't think I can tell when you're mad?"
"Apparently not, because I'm not."
"Fine. Let's have sex."
"I'm tired."
Edward muttered a string of profanities under his breath before he mimicked Bella's position and turned his back to her.
The nagging feeling that settled over Bella was one she couldn't quite reconcile. It was true that she knew how Edward was, and that Rome wasn't built in a day…but it was also true that he'd learned to trust her with some pretty big things, and in a very short period of time – like Anthony, for instance. So why did he have such a hard time trusting her to be on his side and allowing her to be his confidant?
She lay still a few more seconds, listening to the sound of Edward's breathing, before she tossed back the covers and went into the kitchen for a cup of tea.
She had dunked the tea bag enough times to color her tea darkly and had added the appropriate amount of sugar by the time she heard Edward trudge into the living room and flick on the TV. The haphazard way he soared through the channels was a dead giveaway that he was only up because she was. When she looked over the rim of her mug at him, the dimly lit room revealed that he was looking at her, too.
"Okay, fine! You're right. I am mad," she finally admitted.
Edward scoffed in her direction, as if to state, 'I told you so', before returning his attention back to the television set. Bella thought that was the end of it, until suddenly the television fell silent and Edward walked into the kitchen and stood in front of her.
"This isn't about you," Edward said evenly.
"I'm not trying to make this about me," Bella argued. "But I'm going to be your wife, Edward. We're going to be a team. When are you going to realize that I'm on your side?"
"I know you're on my side."
"It doesn't seem like it."
"Bella, you know me better than anyone on this planet. You know that."
"I also know that for you to confide in me, we have to argue, then you blow up, tell me what's on your mind, and then you feel better. It always happens that way. Why can't we skip the arguing, nix your blowup and just get to the part where we talk and you feel better?"
Edward plopped down in the chair across from Bella and raked his fingers through his hair anxiously.
"I'm not ready to deal yet, Bella, okay? When we talk about things, I have to deal with them and I'm not ready to do that right now. I love you and it's not about you and me, okay? Just…trust me. This is how I work."
Bella felt the grasp anger held upon her release at Edward's words.
"Okay," she said quietly.
Edward reached across the table and took her hand.
"I'm not shutting you out," he insisted. "I'm just…processing."
Bella nodded and allowed Edward to lead her back to bed. As she waited for sleep to eclipse her, her thoughts moved to Esme, and how, in a small house not so far away, she was dealing with Edward's father – a man who had been quietly "processing", in his own way, for over a decade.
Bella's final ponderings before slumber took her were wonderings of how long she would have to wait for Edward and a concrete knowledge that she would do so for however long it took.
The dark of night faded into light, and as always, things looked less dire in the morning light; Bella rose to greet her Sunday morning with a not-so-heavy-heart.
Anthony was already seated at the kitchen table when she went in to pour her first cup of coffee, and he had done his best to set the table for her and his father: cereal was on the menu.
"Well, look at you," Bella celebrated his efforts. "That was very thoughtful of you, Anthony."
"I didn't know what kind of cereal you wanted so I got my kind and your kind," Anthony pointed at the two varieties he had to offer. Bella pretended to vacillate between the spoon-size shredded wheat and the Capt'n Crunch before settling on "her kind". Edward came lazily sauntering into the kitchen soon after and he made no hesitation of grabbing the box with the cartoon pirate and pouring himself a hearty bowl.
"We're having the same, Dad," Anthony said as he swung his spoon happily.
"We are," Edward answered, the sluggishness of waking up cloaking his enthusiasm.
"Do you like it?"
"Mm-hm."
"What about me?"
Suddenly Bella realized where Anthony was headed with his question and she looked over at Edward swiftly, praying that he wouldn't misunderstand the importance of the moment in his sleepy haze.
Edward was gazing out the window nearest the table and Bella watched as Anthony's expectant eyes began to drift downward in disappointment of being ignored.
Bella nudged Edward underneath the table.
"Huh? What?" Edward looked over at Bella and then Anthony. "What?"
"Do you like me?" Anthony repeated.
"Of course I like you. You're my right-hand man," Edward said, holding his fist up for Anthony to bump with his own.
Bella knew what was coming, and she kept her eyes on Edward for the duration.
"Do you love me?" Anthony asked.
Edward lowered his unencountered fist and raised his eyebrows at the question. "Of course. Of course I do."
"Because you never say it."
"I don't?" Edward frowned as if this information was news to him.
Anthony shook his head and Bella got extremely nervous as she tried to think of a way to signal Edward that this was very important to Anthony and that he couldn't make light of it.
But Edward had it all under control.
"When I ruffle my hands through your hair and tickle your tummy, I don't say I love you?" Edward asked.
"No," Anthony answered.
"Huh. I thought I did," Edward sat stumped. "Well, what about when I tuck you in at night and give you a hug and a kiss?"
"No."
"When I take you for ice cream?"
"No."
"To the park?"
"No."
"When I give you a treat just because?"
"No." Anthony was now finding humor in Edward's questions, and his monosyllabic answers were punctuated by light laughter.
"When I stay in your bed with you after you've had a bad dream?"
"Uh-uh."
"When I don't freak out when you wipe your snotty nose on my shirt when you have a cold?"
Anthony laughed conspiratorially. "No."
"How about when I let you watch cartoons even though CSI is on?"
Anthony faltered for a moment, not understanding what CSI was, before shaking his head. "Nope."
"How about when I go to work so that I can make sure you have everything you need, and a bit of what you want, to keep you safe, fed and happy?"
"No."
"Well you know what?"
"What?"
"I am doing all of those things because I love you. So even if I don't say it, I hope that I'm showing you." Edward made a point of putting his spoon down and waiting until Anthony was looking him in the eye before stating clearly, "I love you."
"I love you, too," Anthony giggled. "And you forgot to say when you play the train with me and when we work in the garage."
"I love you when we play with the train and when we work out in the garage," Edward repeated dutifully.
Bella noted how animated and alive Anthony became after Edward said his piece, and she waited until Anthony left the table to tell Edward how proud she was of him.
"I waited too long to tell him," Edward berated himself.
"He told you when he needed you to say it, Edward. He's fine," Bella encouraged. "And I have to say, either you're really good off the cuff, or you've been practicing."
Edward grinned a little before answering. "I heard him ask you last night and I heard you tell him to ask me. I knew it was coming."
"You're an ace eavesdropper," Bella said. Her words hinted at something else and she knew that Edward knew exactly what that something else was when his body language became stiff and unyielding. As if to further reiterate what she meant, she reminded him, "Remember that you said you'd call your mother this week."
"I know," Edward said as he pushed his chair back and stood up to leave the table. In other words, he was still "processing" and he didn't want to discuss it.
So Bella let him be.
She didn't make mention of the phone call over the course of the next few days, even though she was tempted to remind him that Esme had free time on Wednesday and that she might appreciate a quick hello. She also didn't say anything as the weekend neared, though she wondered if Edward's lack of communication would translate into a rescinded invitation, and if Esme would then refrain from visiting on Saturday afternoon as she'd grown accustomed to doing.
It is quite possible that this was the case, because Edward didn't call and Esme didn't show up for lunch on Saturday afternoon.
"Where's Mis-mey?" Anthony asked as he twirled the large construction paper "family tree" that he'd made earlier in the week in class.
Bella had solved her earlier dilemma of whom Anthony would define as "mom" by not allowing it to be an issue. Instead, she presented her entire class with the opportunity to place more than one mother or father on their tree if they felt so led. Anthony had drawn a picture of Jessica in the box for 'mother' and then in a square he'd added next to it, he drew another picture with Bella's name etched underneath. It had warmed her heart immensely to see his interpretation, and her eyes had started to brim with tears of appreciation, until she saw what Anthony had done on the left side of his paper.
In the area reserved for the paternal side of his family, Anthony had drawn a picture of Edward over the word 'father' and then directly above it, for 'Grandmother – father's mother', Anthony had drawn a picture of Esme, which he'd titled in large, black Crayon letters: "Mismey".
So Anthony had put two-and-two together on his own, a fact that Bella had not yet pointed out to Edward, for fear that he would misinterpret her words as a meddlesome reminder that he still hadn't yet kept his word and called his mother.
If Edward had an answer for Anthony's question about Esme's whereabouts, he wasn't quick to offer it. Instead, he said nothing more than offer a shrug before returning to the project he'd started that morning: putting together a model space shuttle for Anthony.
While the project occupied Edward, Bella picked up the house and firmed up a few wedding details, talked to her mother for an hour and then called David so that Anthony could have a chat with his grandfather. The family tree project had made Anthony yearn for David and he'd asked to talk to him every day since.
And once David had Anthony on the phone, his elder told him that Edward had promised to bring Anthony for a visit that very month so they'd be together very soon.
"I wish he hadn't told him that," Edward complained later that night. "Now Anthony is going to ask me about it every second until we go."
"I think that was David's plan," Bella smiled. "He wants to make sure that you're going to do what you said you would. It's obvious that it's important to him and he wants to make sure you keep your word."
When Edward didn't respond, Bella looked up from the book in her lap to see that he eyed her with a look of exasperation on his face.
"What?" she asked. What had she said that had irked him?
"Nothing," Edward said as he leaned out of the bed to retrieve the sleep pants that he'd discarded on the floor. He put them on and made a move for the door.
"Edward, what's up?" Bella asked. Was he angry at her for making simple conversation?
"Nothing," he said in his usual tone. "I'm just not that tired. I'm going to stay up and watch a little TV or something."
"Did you want me to stay up with you?" Bella offered.
"Nah. That's okay. You have your book," Edward gestured to her trade paperback.
He was acting a little distant, but Bella shrugged it off and settled down between her blankets with her book. She was actually quite pleased that Edward hadn't requested her presence with him in the living room, because she had just gotten to a really great chapter and she wanted to finish it before she went to sleep that night.
However, half an hour later, the heroine in Bella's tale was taking longer than expected to remedy a fateful situation and Bella's eyes were getting droopy with the task of wading through the words of her efforts. With resignation, Bella put the book on her nightstand, double-checked her alarm and turned off her light. She was almost completely asleep when Edward got into bed with her.
"Bella?" he whispered.
"Hmmm?" she managed.
"I called my mom."
"Mmhm."
"I…I did overhear what you guys were talking about last Saturday, but something she said really pissed me off and I didn't want to face her until I could get over it. But I didn't get over it, so when I called her tonight, I asked her about it. Turns out, I'd completely misunderstood what she'd said." Edward wrestled with his thoughts in the darkness for a few minutes. "Bella…I'm gonna go see her tomorrow after work. We're gonna talk….really talk."
But Bella didn't have the luxury of hearing Edward's revelation, as she'd fallen fast asleep only moments before.