Catwoman 36

We were in Chicago at Carlisle and Esme's house. It was spring, a week after Jasper and Alice's wedding. I had just gotten a text from Alice. I was laughing. They'd been on a nude beach during this leg of their honeymoon and Jasper had fallen asleep and his butt was sun-burned.

I snorted. "What's so funny?" Edward asked. I showed him the text, and he put his hand over his face. "Dude," he said laughing.

We were sitting at the breakfast table with Esme and Carlisle. I knew I was rude to be reading texts while we were chilling together, but Carlisle was reading the paper. Edward was getting ready to tell them about Jasper's buns when his phone went off, and then from behind us the house phone.

Esme jumped up to get the landline, and Edward was already speaking on his cell. His posture and expression told me something was wrong. The alarm signals were also being received by Carlisle as he looked beyond Edward and me to Esme. I turned and witnessed her distress. She spoke carefully, but her eyes were glued to Carlisle's and were filling with tears.

"Aro has died," she said. Carlisle jumped up to take the phone from Esme. Edward was fighting the whole idea as Vickie's voice poured out of the speaker, a muffled hysterical wail.

Turns out James was speaking to Carlisle. Carlisle was asking medical questions. Sounded like a heart attack. Edward turned to face him, and the four of them began to converse through two phones. Edward held my hand, as he talked to her. Esme held onto Carlisle's arm, then he slid his arm around her. Eventually Edward turned away from them and pulled his hand from mine. He put his elbows on the table. I scooted as close as possible and put one hand on his thigh, the other arm around him.

Vickie and Aro had been in Texas. Edward was saying he'd come and get them, get the body and bring them back here to Chicago where Aro had family. A son he barely spoke to. A brother.

James was also in Texas. They spoke a while longer. Vickie's voice had calmed. Edward would clear a flight plan and leave as soon as possible. James and Vickie would contact a funeral home and start the transportation details.

"Did you know James was there?" Edward asked Carlisle when they'd gotten off the phones.

Carlisle shook his head. "It's a good thing Vickie's not alone."

Esme stared at her husband. She didn't look convinced.

"What will we do without Aro?" she asked, dabbing at her eyes with a Kleenex.

Carlisle put his arms around his wife and they stayed that way for a while.

I was rubbing over Edward's back. He finally straightened up and breathed in. He gave me a brief, sad smile. "I'm so sorry," I said, and he nodded. He stood, dragging his hand over my shoulders as he passed me and headed for the glass doors. He opened one and stepped onto the deck. We all followed him out there. Esme plopped onto a loveseat. Carlisle went to Edward and slung his arms around his shoulders.

Edward's head dropped as he leaned on the deck railing. "I want a cigarette," Edward laughed a little. Then he cried. Carlisle looked over his shoulder at me, and I stepped next to Edward's other side. He reached for me then, and we stood there in an embrace. I stroked his hair and back.

Carlisle went and half sat, half fell beside Esme.

By the time the plans were in place it was evening. Edward and Carlisle would fly out in the morning to pick up Vickie and James, and Aro's body. Edward had picked up bodies before, once for a cousin of Ben's, once for a lady in the church who's sister had died in a retirement community. And death was no stranger to Dr. Carlisle.

That night, we ate sandwiches and went to bed early. The men were leaving right after sunrise, and Esme and I had much to do on this end. I wore my usual ratty nightware, frayed undershirt my underwear.

Edward and I lay wrapped together by the top sheet and one another's limbs. He was distant, then clingy all afternoon and evening. "It's so hard to believe," he whispered.

"I know. It's a weird set-up. Why were they together? The three of them?"

"They were friends," Edward said half-heartedly.

"Yeah," I said. "Special friends."

He laughed a little.

"Do you even like your brother?"

"You know he's not my favorite person. He often traveled with them. In Europe he'd seemed completely over Vickie and onto Jennifer."

"He's a weird-o. What will we do if they're like making out at the funeral?"

"We won't do anything. It's not our problem. Anyway, Vickie really cared about Aro. They go way back. She's really broken up."

I didn't comment. If you can't say something nice…. But I did wonder what we were in for.

Edward turned to me and gave me a soft kiss, his hand lightly touching the back of my head. That sweetness seemed like a match to tinder. We needed each other, needed to affirm that we were alive and damn glad of it. The kiss went on and on and morphed into the connection we'd longed for all day. I knew I'd have a rash, but I had all night to get over it. His lips moved on mine, and I met him with equal desperation. When he kissed me, I ceased to feel any environment other than him. The room fell away. Yet my awareness of Edward heightened. In sync was an understatement. We were one.

He pushed me onto my side, my back to him, and pulled my hair away to run his open mouth over my neck. That and his breath hitting my ear made me delirious with lust. I reached behind me and stroked his private parts hard and soft in my hand. Moans and breathing, he pushed me onto my stomach and started to rub me with his hands. The hands said it all. They were in complete admiration mode. My skin. His hands. They curved over my curves and I understood how he saw me, how I was made. His mouth. My skin. Savored and devoured. On my knees, over his face his warm eager lips on my lips, his hands digging into my backside. Explosion. "No more, oh god."

On my back, him on top smashing me into the bed, but not there long enough before I was back on my side being pulled into him, his arm around my waist. There was no resistance in me, only compliance as we scrambled to get angled just right as he entered me from behind. Then oh. The greater connection now, man and wife. Oh. He pushed into me from behind, my ear, hot and wet lips on my neck. Teeth biting my shoulders. Ow. And oh. Grinding back into him. Him - "I'm going to…." Me - "It's all right. Let go. Let go."

Us. "I love you. Love…you."

In the morning, several hours after Edward and Carlisle left for Texas, Esme and I kept an appointment at the funeral home and made arrangements for Aro's service. Carlisle had already spoken with Aro's attorney, Mr. Jenks, learning Aro had left instructions, which really helped. Mr. Jenks then let Esme and I into Aro's upscale loft apartment to select clothing and to look for photos.

It was eerie to be there. Aro was impeccably neat. Vickie, not so much. Her clothing was strewn around the apartment. Her things were on his dresser, and in his bathroom. Yes, I looked, into each room, trying to get a sense of the man I'd shot with water through Edward's window that crazy night in Forks.

Aro liked black, white and gray. He had a stack of jig-saw puzzles on a shelf. He liked Lean Cuisine and expensively bottled water. He had a few pieces of art, stark simple pieces, Picasso-ish. In the bedroom, a box on the floor, handcuffs, toys for sex left there like a box of litter. Vickie's fluff strewn around the room, silky, sheer, pastel, feathers. High-heels like from the fifties, silver-colored, pom-poms on the toes lying where they'd been kicked off, a life interrupted.

His books on architecture. Some biographies. Art. Erotic art. Books on business. Photography. No classics.

No music, but a sound system throughout the rooms that played soft rock as soon as we'd entered the place. Photos, a few crumpled in a nightstand drawer. Esme had the courage to look and find. Black and whites of parents? One of a hippy looking woman holding a baby, the son? Another of a young family, guy and wife, two babies, the son's family? None of himself. Not anywhere.

Esme called Aro's brother, and I called the son, Dale. I introduced myself.

"So the golden boy got married," he'd said.

"Yes, he did. Dale, I have some difficult news, Aro died…."

He was, of course, shocked. I pictured the man in the photo, a younger Aro without the sophistication, without the quiet fire. "I always thought he'd be there," Dale said. "We…didn't talk," he kind of choked. I stayed on with him until he had all the service details. I asked him if someone was with him, and he answered, "My wife."

He talked to her for a minute, the phone muffled. Then he told me he wouldn't be attending. He had to work, and…he didn't know. I repeated the details. He passed them to her, she was the writer. Then he got off quickly.

The lawyer helped us write the obituary. Also we needed details for the service. Aro had done military service. Air force. He'd had a long career in aeronautics. But his philanthropical work was his heart, the lawyer Mr. Jenks, said.

It was then it hit me. Aro had taken over for Edward. He'd taken over. What did that mean now? Would James step in? Someone else? What would it mean?

Vickie was distraught at Aro's graveside. Dale did show up, but he stood back, his wife clinging to him protectively, looking daggers at anyone who dared to come too near. The children weren't there, but Dale looked shuttered and angry. He did allow Edward, the replacement son, to shake his hand. "Your dad was a great man," Edward said.

"Guess you'd think so," Dale said before his wife led him off.

Tanya had arrived for the service with a handsome, younger man she introduced as her fiancé. She was obviously distraught and they didn't stay long. Vickie was leaning heavily on James. She wore, "the littlest black dress." When we all went to lunch, I positioned myself so footsies with my husband's brother couldn't 'accidently' happen. He'd already shot me a couple of skanky vibes in the receiving line by the casket of all places. I'd been standing beside Edward who'd introduced me to a hundred people, all business associates who thought the world of Aro, and wondered when Edward would be stepping into his former role. Some of them didn't seem to realize he'd ever taken a demotion.

Twice I'd felt a hand brush my back, too low, but it hadn't been Edward, it had been James as he left the line to go to the restroom, or hospitality room, or to nap in an extra casket, or whatever creepy yucks like him did during visitations.

Edward had given a brief address at the funeral. Ben had helped him with it the night before over Skype. Standing tall and well-tailored with a fresh extra short haircut, Edward had said, "Of all the people I've worked with over the years, Aro never let his personality get in the way of his work. It was really about meeting the goal of helping people with him. He didn't need recognition. He didn't care who got credit for his ideas. He only cared about the project and its impact on change. That made him generous. That made him unique. And yet the willingness to serve, to listen, and be visionary made him a decisive individual that could lead. He was a listener. As worn out as 'the greater good' has become, he really did make a consistent sincere effort to serve the greater good without becoming cold or indifferent to someone's special interests. He will be missed by myself as a mentor and a friend, and by the people who relied on him to guide their influence. He leaves big shoes, but clear tracks. To him I am…we are all grateful."

When my husband sat beside me, I could feel a relief that the tribute was over, but also a peace. His eyes were soft as he looked at me. I knew he wanted to kiss me. I longed to kiss him. So he took my hand, and we stared at one another, communicating our deep feelings that way. I was telling him I was proud, and that I'd always be there. He was saying he knew it, and life was precious to him, and we were calm about what we were willing to do in the future. Whatever it was, it would be together.

What it further meant was this – two months later we were apartment shopping in Chicago. We were looking at a loft in a vintage building in the Gold Coast neighborhood. I had quit my job. It was bittersweet, but more sweet than bitter as the days passed. It made sense.

Edward knew how to step into Aro's shoes. They were originally Edward's afterall. And he'd be in the city a lot more while he did that. He could write anywhere, but the main offices for the work Aro left behind were in Chicago.

So it made sense to Edward to buy the condo instead of living six months out of the year in a hotel. "You're a homebody," he'd said.

He also reasoned that the condo could easily be sold should we choose to move. True it was more than we needed, but it was an investment, Edward said. I didn't agree with that statement. "Your home is your home," I said with the wisdom of Gilmore Girls or something. What I meant was, your home was where you lived. It was always more that than anything else. And I intended to turn this place into an oasis.

So Edward bought the place, which meant I did too. And I found myself living there and getting used to Chicago. Meanwhile, our house in Forks was being 'housesat,' by Rose. She was commuting to Port Angeles where she'd gotten a job in hospital administration.

How ass-up was this? Now Alice and Rose were together again. Only Alice had married Jasper, and Rose was dating Emmett. So while my four besties regrouped, I was once again left out in the cold…of Edward's arms. Okay, not so cold. But kind of crazy the way it was working, no?

Don't you know I'd gotten this flexible by a process? A speedy one, but I moved in warp speed ever since I'd married Edward.

Everything I'd feared about this marriage, had, in a way, come upon me. I was standing in the center of our Gold Coast ultra modern condo looking out the front window of our ultra-modern living room. I caught my hands looking like a hamster's as I held them before me curved and empty.

I was now living the life Alice and Rose had wanted and I had eschewed. I loved being this near to Esme. She was so helpful in picking out colors for our condo. Edward was working some long hours, and he still had all of the writing with Peter. Peter was here at least once a month and they'd hole up in Edward's study and eat copious amounts of pizza or whatever I made. It was kind of fun. Now Peter was seeking an adjunct position at the University of Chicago and it looked like he was going to get it which meant he was going to move here.

I was taking Yoga with Esme, and she was only too happy to explain some of her assignments in the world of decorating. She said I was a natural. I didn't know, but it was loads of fun to accompany her on shopping trips, look at her samples, or visit her suppliers on line.

I also went to church with her, and when the men weren't working, they went to. This led to other things like volunteer work and a book club, and they had a decent sized library that was in a pathetic mess and they were looking for a volunteer. I hadn't said yes yet, but I'd been in there two or three times looking at the mess and saying, no way.

And Vickie and James were together, together. Like almost as soon as the dirt hit Aro's casket. Or maybe before. I never could figure it out. No imagination, I guess.

The trouble in paradise was…besides the fact I felt completely overwhelmed, was that Vickie and James practically lived at Carlisle and Esme's.

So we were seeing them much more than I'd hoped. I'd let him get by with things, just like I'd suffered Jacob Black all those years. I hadn't wanted to rock the boat or in anyway upset Carlisle and Esme, but letting this guy ruin my family life was just stupid. I decided I would not complain to Edward, I'd confront James myself. I called him up and invited him to meet for coffee. He said yes, but he said it, or texted it, like I was inviting him to a slumber party for just the two of us. I mean he answered right away and used a lot of exclamation points. That even made me more frustrated.

Imagine my surprise when I found Vickie walking toward my table and not James.

She was wearing shorts and a sheer top. It was Rose all over again as I watched a man spill coffee down the front of his shirt as she flounced her way to my table.

"Surprise, surprise," she smirked pulling out the curved wooden chair across from me and sitting delicately.

"Are you his emissary?" I asked trying to take a nonchalant sip of my coffee.

"He doesn't know a thing about this. I saw the text and answered."

"Why? I needed to talk to him." The goodwill, if there had been any, we'd known briefly in Europe was way gone.

"Yeah, well, I found this a little strange. I thought maybe I should check it out."

I kept drinking my coffee, trying to let the frustration I felt at her subterfuge roll off before I spoke and made things worse.

"Not speaking?" Her.

"Look, I'm not after James if that's what you're worried about." I certainly didn't intend to rat James out to her. This was between him and myself and I hoped to nip it before it got into the family and hurt people.

"You think he's interested in you."

"No. I do not." I honestly didn't know what I should say. Lying seemed my best option.

"Bella." She is shaking her head, all kinds of smiles. "You do realize that I'm very free sexually?"

"I…never thought much about it, but yeah, the thing with Emmett. James. Aro. James. Yeah." I didn't mention the box of toys I'd seen at Aro's apartment. If they were hers, and I'd bet they were, they'd been around.

She laughed, but had flushed such a deep red. "Very righteous. I notice you left out Edward."

"Like I said in Europe, there is only me and Edward. That's all there's ever been."

"Oh, I know. Believe me."

"I wanted to meet with James in private to make as little trouble as possible for Esme and Carlisle."

"What a disappointment her son must be. And me…we both know what a trial I've been." She was trying not to laugh.

"Esme seems happy to have you both around. I think the family has really helped one another since Aro."

Some of the bravado fell away then. "James has helped me so much. He knows how much I loved Aro. People just don't get him. It hasn't been easy having to share his mother with Edward. Edward is great…but Edward is great. Great is hard to follow. James has his good points. So what do you think he's done? He's playing you. It's a joke. Believe me, you're not his type. Not every man in the world is after you, Bella. Let's face it, you're a pretty girl, but the world is full of pretty girls. Even beautiful ones." Now she's not smiling.

"I was hoping we could get along for Esme and Carlisle's sake. Having a family is nice. Mine had gotten really small. But I'm not a kid and I won't be pushed around. If you want to be James' ambassador and stick your nose in, here it is. He needs to keep his hands to himself. I'm not going to be uptight at family functions. If he gets out of line again I'm going to Edward."

"Oh, not the big gun." She had her hand on her chest. "What has James ever done? He's an affectionate person. I know he oversteps, but he doesn't mean what you think. He likes to get a rise out of people. Especially Edward."

"That's too bad. They're really not very close. I don't want to make it worse. But he's the one being an asshole. I don't have to tolerate it, and I won't. So tell him if you're so eager to interfere. I wanted to spare you this. But…here you are." I stood then.

"Oh don't be all dramatic. Finish your coffee."

I threw a couple of dollars on the table and continued to gather my stuff. "I know you've had a tough year, and I'm going through a lot of changes too. I didn't mean to say this to you, and maybe later I'll regret it, but it doesn't change the facts. See you?"

She looked at me briefly then back to the table. "Yeah. You will. Like it or not you will."

I nodded and walked away then. I knew this wasn't over.