Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I own FormerPriestward and JezeBella.
All plotlines, characterizations, and details in Bring On The Wonder belong to the author: Bronzehyperion. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without the author's authorization.
©2012 Bronzehyperion. All rights reserved worldwide
This story is rated M for a reason. Violence, swearing, religion being made fun of and criticized. And lemons at the right time.
This story leans heavily on my friend (and BETA) Parama. She doesn't just make sure the grammar is bearable, she also helps me put my thoughts into order, has great suggestions and is always supportive even when giving constructive criticism.
CHAPTER 47: IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, THE SON...
"You're quitting?"
"Yes."
"But why? Things were going so well."
I sighed deeply as I tried to explain to my mother, who had stopped by for coffee, why I was no longer Bella's buddy in the Redemption Program.
Her visit had been an unexpected one. When she visited, she often did so during my free mornings, or on a Saturday afternoon. Before… before Bella, she had done so to (s)mother me a bit; she'd check my refrigerator or bring me a pack of new socks or undershirts she'd bought. I'd get an invite for dinner or my mother would take dirty laundry I was perfectly capable of washing myself, because apparently she'd believed I wasn't able to properly take care of myself and run my own household.
Since Bella had moved in with me, her visits had gotten more sociable and less parental in character.
Tonight was different though. My mother, albeit someone with a busy and active social calendar that often had her preoccupied during the evenings, didn't often visit "for coffee and a chat" as she had put it when I'd found her on the doorstep.
And she also didn't often look on edge. But tonight she did. And her strain, whatever it was about, seemed to multiply by the news about Bella and me "breaking up" professionally, so to speak.
"Bella and I both believe it's no longer in her best interest for me to support her in the Redemption Program. Our personal relationship affects her progress and neither of us wants that," I explained once again.
"But who will support her now?"
"I told you; Bella asked Rosalie to be her buddy and she happily agreed. Now, do you want more coffee?" I asked, hoping to distract my mother. It was a little unnerving to see her focus all her energy on my news.
Maybe coffee wasn't such a good idea.
"But where does Rosalie find the time?" my mother wondered, not entirely ignoring my question as she held out her mug for me to take. "Between teaching and her volunteer work for the church and the community center, it'll be very hard to fit this into her schedule."
"Rosalie is off on Tuesdays, which is when Bella has group therapy. That's really the only event she needs to support Bella in directly. The rest is mostly about being Bella's confidant, which can be done over the phone, or Sunday coffee, brunch, etcetera. You get my point," I explained from the kitchen.
"I still don't see why you can't do that," my mother muttered. "I know you have school, but…"
For a moment I contemplated telling her about my decision to go on my own soul searching journey; the words burning on my tongue as I tried to come up with the right way to tell my mother I was no longer going to be a part of the congregation of St. Joseph but I couldn't even form a sentence before she had already moved on to her next question.
"You and Bella are doing well, aren't you?" my mother wondered. "Where is she tonight?"
"We're doing great; she's spending time with Angela tonight."
"I see. So all is good?"
"Yes," I said with conviction, blushing a little as I thought of how wonderful things were between us. And individually Bella was doing better as well with her lawsuit settled and no random people from her past popping up unexpectedly anymore.
We were closer than ever and physically things were… advancing as well. Of course, thinking of that particular subject tightened my crotch area, forcing me to will down a semi-erection in my mother's presence which was as embarrassing as it was… effective since I deflated almost immediately as I thought of her noticing.
"Speaking of, why are you all by your lonesome tonight, stealing all my coffee away," I stirred the conversation topic back to her, curious about the reason for her visit and the accompanying anxiety. "Is Dad not keeping you company tonight?"
"Your father has been very busy lately."
On the surface the answer sounded thoughtful. But I hadn't missed the eye roll that had followed my mother's answer or the hint of bitterness and sarcasm in her voice.
And if there was one thing my mother never displayed, one emotion of enunciation she never used, it was sarcasm.
But it fit with her mood. It didn't offer me an explanation though.
I knew my dad was a hardworking man but he always made sure he spent enough time with my mother. And she knew that too. So, what had changed?
"Lots of sick people?" I wondered curiously, trying to pry subtly.
My mother let out a deep sigh and shook her head. "No. He mostly seems very much invested in some church issues."
I bit my tongue, ignoring the opening she presented me. All I had to do is start off with something like "Speaking of church…" and then spill out the rest about leaving St. Joseph. But between finding the courage to do just that and the realization this wasn't about me, I never got the chance to decide because my mother started rambling.
"I understand your father wants to spend time dealing with the situation in New Orleans but that's all he ever does nowadays. It's starting to become frustrating that he cares more about what's happening there than he does about his own wife. And I hate to complain but it's very difficult to remain calm and understanding when I barely ever see him anymore."
I didn't quite know what to say. It wasn't often that my mother responded so fiercely to something my father did, although I suspected that ever since she'd left him for a few days around Christmas she'd become less willing to accept his behavior and his endeavors.
In that moment, as I saw her huff and fight her emotions, I realized that this was one of the first times she was truly opening up about their relationship. She was opening up to someone, showing not only a side of herself but also of their marriage that wasn't veiled by the shine of necessary displays of perfection.
"He promised he would try harder and be less focused on St. Joseph but he's still meeting with people every night."
"Every night? Like who?" I asked, still taken aback by her frankness and equally surprised by her answer.
"Well, Father Masen visited a few nights in a row. And then there's these two other men I had never seen before up until a few weeks ago who now frequently stop by. I serve them coffee and all and then I leave them to it. I don't ask questions or anything."
It sounded odd to hear my mother sound so defeated, powerless.
"I'm sorry," I said softly. "Maybe you should talk to Dad. Perhaps he's not aware that he's neglecting you."
I felt a little silly for defending him but I did it solely with the purpose of easing my mother's mind, if that was even possible.
"He is deliberately shutting me out," my mother muttered. "I'd say he's aware. It's almost like a secret society they've got going on."
My mother's choice of words was certainly unexpected. "Secret society" sounded so mysterious and full of conspiracy elements.
"You don't know who those men are? And Dad has never told you who they are? Did they even introduce themselves?"
"No, I have served them coffee and they've served me smiles but never have they introduced themselves."
"But you've asked him? Who they are?" I clarified to which she nodded.
"Yes, I have. But your father has neither explained who they are nor made any introductions. Which is suspicious because he never keeps me out of the loop on anything. I mean, he always used to confide in me and now…" she trailed off.
I was shocked. There was this whole element of intrigue that I'd never been aware of. It was unexpected. I knew my father could be a difficult man, but I'd never call him secretive or downright shady.
Until now.
"How long has this been going on?" I wondered, thinking it couldn't be long since she hadn't brought it up earlier.
"A few weeks, I suppose." She sighed. "I just don't know what to think. Maybe this is not just about New Orleans. Maybe there's more."
"More?"
"What if your father is in trouble?"
"Was that your mother I just saw leaving?" Bella asked as she closed the door behind her, before greeting me with a kiss. One I eagerly accepted and returned.
We both breathed a little heavier when we pulled away.
"Yes, she stopped by for coffee. I suppose she had a free night and didn't want to spend it alone," I explained as I caught my breath by sitting down on the sofa.
Bella peeled off her coat and put it away before joining me. I grabbed the remote and muted the sound. I'd only been watching some sports game to drown out the worry and intrigue of my mother's burning question.
"What if your father is in trouble?"
I hadn't even thought about that and didn't know if it was a valid consideration. He was meeting with Father Masen - and two apparent mystery men - frequently and didn't confide in my mother like he'd often do in pressing situations or when worries were weighing on him.
Could he be in trouble or was it all part of the same issues? If so, if this was all about St Joseph and the problems in New Orleans, then why the secrecy? Surely he wouldn't keep church related issues from my mother.
"Did your dad have to work tonight?" Bella asked, pulling me from my reverie.
She'd taken off her shoes and her legs were now curled up under her body.
"Apparently. He's been very busy lately, according to my mother," I muttered.
"Well doctors are busy," Bella pointed out cheekily. "All those darn sick people needing special attention."
I rolled my eyes playfully. "Very clever. But he seems extra busy lately," I explained, slightly puzzled.
"Extra busy? What does that even mean? Like outside the hospital?"
I nodded. "Yes. I told you about that church in New Orleans right, the one having some problems."
Bella's turn to nod. "I thought Father Masen was handling that. He left town a couple of times because of it, right?"
"Yes, but he informed my father as well and my mother believes that most of his preoccupations stem from that particular situation, given the fact Father Masen has stopped by the house quite a few times lately."
"Okay, so that has him busy. It makes sense your mother doesn't like that but she understands, right?"
"Not exactly. Next to Father Masen visiting my father, he's also had these two men over a few times. Men my mother doesn't know and my father won't introduce t-o her."
"Really?" Bella frowned. "That is strange."
I nodded. "And he always tells her everything. I mean, he knows the limits of confidentiality in his line of work but he never keeps my mother in the dark and so now she thinks he might be in some sort of trouble."
"Trouble?" Bella echoed. "That sounds pretty serious. Is she certain that those men aren't simply connected to what's going on in New Orleans?"
"That's what I said but she said my father is acting really odd and the few times she has tried to talk to him, get him to open up, he basically dismissed her concerns, telling her everything is just fine."
"Maybe it is," Bella pointed out. "Maybe he doesn't want to burden her because it's not a big deal."
"If that's the case, then why won't he simply introduce them to her to ease her mind? He tells her everything is alright but his behavior betrays that is not the case."
Bella was thoughtful for a moment, processing my argument. Then after a while she nodded. "Perhaps you have a point. Maybe he is only trying to reassure your mother so she won't worry too much."
Bella then frowned and sighed.
"What is it?"
"I just can't believe I'm defending him." She chuckled wryly.
I flashed her a similar smile, echoing the sentiment.
"I thought the same thing earlier. But then, he might not deserve sympathy or understanding, but my mother does. And if what you say is true, if he doesn't want her to worry, that would indicate he does have something to hide. Which means my mother might have a point in believing my father is in some sort of trouble."
"But what would that be?" Bella mused. "It can't be financial, right? Your father has a good, well paying job. It's doubtful he got fired or something. He's a respected doctor."
I shook my head. "No, I don't think it's that. He wouldn't be able to keep that from my mother. Plus, it wouldn't explain the meetings. My mother even referred to them as 'secret society' meetings."
"That doesn't quite sound like Esme, to be so focused on conspiracy theories. Could it be that your father is... ill? The two men are specialists he is consulting?" Bella's voice sounded soft, careful.
I hadn't even considered that option. For a moment, a fist clenched around my heart, squeezing tightly. I might not always agree with my father but I did love him and didn't want the mystery be something like a horrible disease.
Bella must have seen my expression contort into a painful grimace because she leaned in to hug me. "It's probably not that. I'm just guessing," she whispered as she peppered my hair and face with kisses. "I'm sorry."
I allowed the panic to subside to consider Bella's words and then to push them aside.
"If he was ill he wouldn't keep it from her, I think."
"You know, he might not want to tell your mother whatever he's doing, but perhaps he'd talk to someone else."
"Like who?"
"Like you."
"So how are you and Rosalie doing?"
I was sitting in one of the plastic chairs in Emmett's office, which was one of those giant container buildings.
The purpose of my visit wasn't just to kill some time since I had a free morning before classes in the afternoon, nor was it solely about having an excuse to drive the newly bought Volvo. Mostly, I wanted to catch up with my brother and try to get his opinion on my father's odd behavior.
As Emmett had finished up a phone call with one of his suppliers I'd chatted briefly with Angela, who'd brought in coffee and then went back to work.
"Good, I guess. I mean, the therapy is not really for me but it's important to Rosie, so I have little choice but to grin and bear it."
"Do you talk about losing the baby?" I enquired, hoping I wasn't stepping out of line with my question.
Emmett shrugged but he didn't seem too bothered by it.
"At first we did, yes. But now Rosie also talks about other things. Like her religion and my well… lack thereof."
"You are Catholic. I wouldn't call that a 'lack thereof'," I pointed out.
"But I'm not as much of a believer as Rosie or you. Speaking of, how do you deal with that?"
"Deal with what?"
"Well," Emmett started. "Bella isn't religious at all from what I've seen. But it doesn't seem to be an issue between the two of you."
I took a sip of coffee, the bitter aftertaste burning in my throat. "I respect Bella's stance and she does mine."
"I wish Rosie would. She thinks I don't go to church often enough."
"Well, you shouldn't be forced if you don't want to go," I said.
"That's the thing, Edward. We grew up around church but it never really did anything for me. And it's all just so hypocritical to me now. I mean look at Dad; the way he treats Bella, the woman you love. If I caught him looking at Rosie like that, with that kind of disdain or talking about her like she was barely worth it, I would have told him to back off in not so polite terms."
"Well, I did tell him. And while I certainly do not appreciate his behavior with Bella, I don't believe he represents religion all together. So if you want to go to church because you believe, don't let your irritation with Dad get in the way. That wouldn't be right," I pointed out.
"But that's the thing," Emmett said. "It's not my irritation with Dad that keeps me away. It's the whole thing; the hypocrisy, the literal 'holier than thou' attitude I see with people."
I knew exactly what he meant and the attitude he described. I'd seen and experienced it for myself in recent months. And while that was forcing me away from St. Joseph, I wasn't about to give up my faith all together.
"So it's not about your faith, it's about people's attitude?" I asked. "Because that should be something you can ignore."
Emmett shook his head. "Not entirely. Look, I've never been as religious as you or Dad. You two have always been the ones heavy on the believing. Mom and I are more moderate. I respect that and am okay with it. I know He exists and I believe in that but it's not like I ever found a great amount of spiritual or other fulfillment in going to church a butt-load of times a week."
"Then why did you always go? Why do you still go?" I wondered, suddenly realizing this could actually be an interesting part of my thesis. My brother was giving me an honest glimpse into the mind of someone who seemed to have an interesting view on religion and Divine guidance that didn't entirely match my own.
"Honestly, I mostly went to appease Dad. I knew it was important to him to present us as a united, faithful, God-loving family and I respected that. Then when Rosalie and I got more serious and her dad – just as religious as ours - believed she needed to marry a clean cut Catholic boy, I prolonged my commitment to an institution I don't believe in as strongly as - for instance - you do."
"So you pretended all of these years? You went to church because Dad wanted you to and later to score points with Rosalie?"
There was no judgment in my voice, just curiosity.
Emmett sighed, playing with his coffee cup. "It's not as black and white as that. It never bothered me to go. I just did. It was built into my system. And it still is. If Rosie wants me to go, I go."
"But you feel nothing?" I asked, surprised and confused that my brother could shrug this off so easily. It was also quite sad to think he didn't find the same level of comfort most followers of God did. The way I did.
"I feel respect. For Him and for people who genuinely believe, though there are few who do."
"What does that mean?" I wondered. "To genuinely believe? When does someone do that?"
My brother pursed his lips. "I don't know. I think you do. You believe genuinely, without judging others, without pointing at people's flaws if they don't believe. You don't pretend to be better than those who don't believe or believe differently. That's impressive. But I believe you are quite unique that way. In St. Joseph's congregation anyway."
I was a little shocked by his assessment because I'd often questioned my perception of the people around me based on my religion. I never tried to judge because I felt that was solely a task of God, but the way Emmett made it seem it was people – good Catholic people – who judged others even if they weren't supposed to. And he was right. I'd seen it myself; I'd bore the brunt of it.
"It's not up to me to judge," I said sheepishly. "Anyway, has your position caused friction between Rosalie and you?"
"I always thought she was a bit more liberal about it. That she could give me the same space I give her. Respect the way I feel about it. Perhaps she did for a while. But now she feels like I don't make enough effort anymore to attend mass and all."
"Which is true," I pointed out. "Well the part where you don't attend as often as before."
"Neither do you," Emmett winked. "But you're right, as is she. I used to make more of an effort but with the business and all it's not as easy to go with the flow and sit in a pew listening to a sermon when my mind is racing a mile a minute about some work-related issue."
"Surely she understands that," I said.
"Like I said, she did before, or maybe she always tolerated it. But lately, it apparently bothers her. Or at least it seems that way, based on the things she brings up at therapy…
"Maybe it's because of the baby. I think Rosie is worried that our future children won't be Catholic enough if I slack of," he added, muttering.
"Catholic enough? What does that mean?"
"You know what's funny?" Emmett spoke, ignoring my question. "I never saw Mom as being as religious as Dad. For some reason, they have come to an understanding about it. She plays the good doctor slash deacon wife when needed but he never pushed her to give up a career, to have hobbies, to completely be someone she's not…
"But with us, it was like he overcompensated. Especially with you. I worry Rosie is the same. That she thinks she accepts my position but as soon as we have children, she'll project her faith onto them, not let them decide for themselves. And I'm not like Mom; I'm not going to pretend that I would accept something like that without any question. That's just not who I am."
"I'm sure Rosalie would understand that, if you two discussed it. Which is what you're doing right?"
My brother nodded, rubbing his face. "I guess. I hope so. I don't want my kids to be in our position."
"Do you think Mom and Dad raised us, or maybe raised me wrong? That Mom shouldn't have supported his efforts to make me fill the footsteps he failed to?"
Emmett snorted. "I don't think you were raised wrong. Nor was I. However, I do believe Dad put too much pressure on us and you in particular. Mom shouldn't have allowed that. It's just not fair. I'm sure they meant well but I don't want to make the same mistake. Would you?"
"Would I what?"
"Force your future kids to do something you didn't. Like if you had a son, would you want him to become a priest? The way Dad projected that dream onto you?"
I thought about what he asked and realized we'd never had this type of conversation before; about the future, about children. Because our futures up until this point never had any similarities. But now they did.
"I'd want my future children to be happy, to do whatever they'd want to do. If that would include something religious, I would welcome it but if they chose differently, what choice would I have?"
"You could be like Dad," Emmett pointed out. "Project your dreams and push so much that your kids simply do as you wish to appease you."
"That's a pretty strong way to define that. I think he always meant well."
"Did he mean well when he badmouthed Bella? Judged her?"
I shook my head. Of course he hadn't. "No, but that was because it was such a shock to him."
"So, would you do the same when your son came home with a girl or maybe even a guy."
"Well, for starters, Bella would have my balls anyway if I tried to be like Dad," I muttered, which made Emmett laugh aloud. "And I'd want my children to be happy, no matter what."
"Have your balls? Wow, you really have changed." My brother grinned as he slapped me on the back.
"I guess I have. Speaking of changes; have you noticed anything different about Dad lately?"
"You mean other than acting like a tool on occasion?" Emmett quipped.
I rolled my eyes but relayed our mother's worries to my brother. From his odd behavior to her own observations.
Emmett didn't seem worried though. He echoed Bella's advice to talk to our father and said would try and do the same when he got the chance.
We parted ways shortly after, since he needed to get back to work and I wanted to stop by Kate's office to show her the progress with my dissertation.
"This is certainly interesting."
I was sitting opposite Kate, while she read the latest changes in my dissertation.
"It's just a concept," I hastened to say.
"Can I ask what brought this on?"
"You said that I had to incorporate my own experiences. That's what I'm doing," I clarified.
"I know that, but I get the impression that there's a reason you chose to write this now? Are you having doubts about your faith?"
I shook my head, hoping I could explain why I had decided to inform Kate about my decision to find a new church and why I'd added a little write up, almost like a journal entry, to my dissertation now. "I'm not. I'm having doubts about the institution that's been the physical foundation of my faith."
"St. Joseph?"
Kate knew the church, and Father Masen, well.
"Yes. The congregation isn't very willing to accept my new life and despite the fact I haven't done anything wrong, they seem to look at me that way."
"So, you worry about their judgment and it makes you feel uncomfortable to a point you're looking for a new sanctuary?"
"In a way. But also, things have changed. They aren't like before."
"Because of Bella?"
"Not entirely. Partially yes, but there's also something inside me that has changed. I no longer feel comfortable at St. Joseph so I feel I need to find a new spiritual home; a place of solace to practice my faith."
"Look Edward, I want you to know this is entirely your decision and I certainly understand why you'd want to use this journey to find a new congregation in your dissertation…"
"But?"
"But from what you told me before, and from what I'd heard about you, you grew up in St. Joseph. It was your spiritual home. You were a boy singing in the choir. A young man with dreams of serving God and using St. Joseph as an office, for lack of a better term. I have no doubt it's unpleasant to deal with looks and whispers of those who have yet to get used to your new life, but maybe you ought to give people a chance to adjust to the changes. I think it's unwise to make such a rash decision. You've belonged with St. Joseph for so long, that doesn't just change."
I frowned. The old Edward would've accepted her words without defense if only out of politeness. But I felt like Kate was taking on a role that was not for her. A lecture was not what I was here for.
"I just came here to show you my progress and ask you about my work so far. This isn't about the decisions I make concerning my faith or church of choice. So yes, I will stick to my decision to find a new congregation and I will incorporate it into my dissertation."
I didn't wait for her response and muttered a goodbye before I left her office.
"So she basically lectured you?"
Bella frowned, looking like an angry kitten, her eyebrows raised. It was quite cute.
"A little. Though I think she may have just been surprised by my decision and how she found out about it; letting her read it point blank in the latest version of my dissertation was probably not the best way to found out."
"But you don't owe her anything. It's your decision. Plus, she had no right to lecture you or show her disagreement."
"I don't know. Perhaps it also had something to do with the fact she is part of the congregation I am leaving behind. Perhaps I offended her unknowingly."
"Hmm, maybe," Bella muttered, clearly displeased. "That wouldn't be very objective of her though. Besides, hasn't she been pushing you to add as many different views as possible? I don't get why she thinks she needs to play counselor now."
"Don't frown," I teased her. "I told her how I felt and what I expected her role to be. She's my dissertation counselor. Not my conscience or someone in the position to lecture me."
"Well good. She shouldn't overstep her boundaries."
"She won't. Anyway, I should probably focus on actually telling my parents. Although I have no idea how."
Bella nodded sympathetically. "That's going to be difficult. No doubt your dad is going to freak out."
"I'm sure he won't be pleased." I frowned.
"When are you going to tell him?" Bella wondered. I'd asked that question myself, not really knowing the answer. If I couldn't even tell my mother and brother, who were always supportive of whatever I chose to do, how was I going to tell the one person, the person who'd always cared about my future at St. Joseph the most, that I no longer wanted to be a part of his church?
And try to find out what he was hiding at the same time. If I told him about my decision, there would be no way he would be forthcoming about whatever was claiming all his time and attention.
"I have no idea," I admitted. "I don't really know how to tell him without angering him. Besides, I haven't found an alternative church yet either. That essentially still gives him room to try and persuade me to change my mind. Not that I will but it would have more impact if I could tell him I was joining another church."
"While I'm sure you have a point, I don't think you should wait too long. Your absence is bound to raise questions and it only creates more anxiety for you knowing you are carrying this around with you," Bella said. "Besides, no one can actually judge you for making the decision to analyze and change certain elements of your beliefs. It's not like you're saying goodbye to Catholicism, you're just looking to evolve and there is nothing wrong with that," she added with a smile.
"Since when are you so smart?" I teased, impressed with her analysis.
"Years and years of therapy," Bella muttered. "But seriously, I can't believe you didn't tell Emmett."
"That was because he ended up giving an interesting explanation about his own religion – or possible lack thereof- as he called it."
"Really? What did he say?" Bella looked at me curiously, but before I could speak, she held up her hand, signaling me to halt. "Never mind. It's private, of course."
"Hardly. He just perceives religion differently. Maybe more like you do, though without the trauma." I grimaced.
Bella's face reflected mine but she shook it off. "He never seemed to be much of a churchgoer."
"And yet, you thought he was the one wanting to be ordained," I pointed out teasingly, referring back to a time when we didn't know each other that well, when we'd both been lost in our own sides of the spectrum. Now we were sharing one.
"Maybe my brain just refused to accept someone like you would waste his future to something so freaking tedious. No offence."
"Someone like me?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"It would've been a waste," Bella said definitively before leaning to steal a kiss. "Trust me."
I believed her. My thundering heart, flushed skin, the humming electricity between us and the general – nightmare free – happiness I felt lately, all thanks to having Bella in my life, was plenty of proof.
"Anyway, back to Emmett and his nonexistent church going ways."
"Right. Well apparently he doesn't want his future children to be forced into Catholicism the way our dad did. But Rosalie has other ideas. She wants Emmett to make more of an effort for her and their future children."
"That sounds… complicated," Bella said.
"It probably is, given the fact they are talking about it in therapy…
"He also asked me if I'd ever do the same; raise children the way our father did," I murmured.
Bella's eyebrows shot up, both in surprise and probably a hint of curiosity. "What did you say? I mean, that was never an issue before since well… you were headed toward a different future."
"I want my… our children to have their own choices. Pretty much because you'd have my balls, if I acted the way my father does," I said sheepishly.
Bella repressed a chuckle. "I would," she agreed. "But do you really think of that…of 'our children'?" she said softly.
"Well, it's not like I think about children as something happening in the near future but in terms of who I'd have children with if I were to have them, well… I wouldn't want it to be anyone but you." I smiled, feeling my cheeks burn. What if this was too much for her?
"I see."
"It's okay, I know you don't feel the same." I shrugged.
"Don't," Bella warned, rather harshly. "Don't believe you love me more than I love you and that you're the only one thinking about these things. It's simply not true. I will say that I haven't considered the concept of children due to the mere fact that I had such a shi… crappy childhood myself. But the way you say it… if I were to have babies, it would be with you." Bella smiled before she leaned in to place a gentle kiss on my cheek.
"Really?"
"Of course. Who else? I can't even think about not knowing you, about not having you in my life. Plus, your looks would qualify for great baby making. Green eyes, bronze hair… perfect." Bella grinned.
I blushed even more at her compliment about my appearance. "Bronze?"
"Or copper mixed in with some auburn, gold and possibly red. There's many ways to describe your hair."
"Bronze," I murmured to myself. "I suppose it fits."
Bella giggled and ruffled my hair playfully. "Good. Now back to the issue at hand which is not the determination of your hair color. I really think you should talk to your dad soon. Him especially, because I think your mother would support you no matter what, as would Emmett."
She was right, of course. Bella was so often right. But I couldn't help but wonder what kind of problems I created by telling my father I was leaving the congregation of St. Joseph.
"I'll think about it. How to tell him and all. And try and talk to him about his own… issues."
"Okay. Now, why don't I start dinner?"
"I could eat," I nodded absentmindedly as Bella slipped into the kitchen. I thought about the idea of softening the blow with my father by having an attachment to another church. Maybe it wouldn't be so difficult for him to accept my decision if he knew that I wasn't leaving behind my faith but merely wanted to explore and evolve, like Bella had said.
But honestly, while the decision to find a new church to commit myself to had slowly grown into something I firmly stood behind, I knew I had to be more proactive than simply embracing the idea.
I went to my laptop and opened up Google. Typing in "Catholic churches and Seattle" I found plenty of hits but it was strange clicking any links without knowing exactly what I was looking for.
"Googling churches," Bella's voice sounded behind me. "Clever."
"It's not silly?" I wondered, realizing I sounded like a small frightened boy. But as I turned to look over my shoulder, I noticed Bella's smile.
"No, it's perfect. You know, you always tell me you're proud of me but I'm proud of you too," Bella told me before pressing a kiss in my hair and disappearing back into the kitchen.
I smiled at her affection and went back to clicking a few pages. But it was all so overwhelming.
I spent a few moments looking before I decided to join Bella in the kitchen.
She was tossing a salad and asked me to watch the steaks she was grilling in a frying pan.
"Don't forget I have to go to the community center tomorrow after work."
"Right, why is that again?" I asked.
"Some charity thing that Alice is putting together. Handing out clothes to the local homeless, I think. I'm pretty sure your mother will be there, as will Rosalie."
"I'll give Emmett a call; maybe we can have dinner together."
Bella nodded as she put some water in a pan to boil it for some rice.
"I could make a little extra rice and salad. That way you'll only have to cook some meat tomorrow," she suggested.
I frowned, thinking about my cooking skills, or lack thereof.
"Or you could eat vegetarian for a day," she teased.
"Or that."
After dinner I browsed the internet some more while Bella watched some sort of cake baking show on TV.
Most churches were either familiar because I'd been to them before or knew people in their respective congregations or seemed very similar to what St. Joseph had to offer, which made sense, considering the rules that applied to the practice of Catholicism.
I really didn't see the point of trading one in for the other, knowing the chances of running into people I knew – people who could judge me - would be quite high.
I needed something entirely different.
"Any luck?" Bella wondered from the sofa. "Anything that stands out to you?"
I was about to tell her no and deciding to call it a night and spend the rest of it with Bella on the sofa to watch some TV, make out a little, the usual, when an ad caught my eye.
It was in simple black and white, with delicate letters in elegant calligraphy.
Tired of what's conventional?
Tired of your faith being demolished by rules?
Do you just want to believe in Him?
Be close to Him?
Perhaps the Center of Faith, Hope and Solace is for you.
I blinked and read the ad again. It was appealing for sure, although also a little vague and flighty. Slightly tedious, even. But still, there was something about the message and the simplicity of the ad that spoke to me.
"Edward?" Bella called out.
"I think I found something."
"Bella is such a good cook!"
I was having dinner with Emmett, like I'd planned the night before, since Bella and Rosalie were volunteering at the community center. As promised Bella had made sure we'd have something to eat. There was leftover rice and salad, plus Bella had put together a Spanish potato omelet, knowing I'd never be able to handle a frying pan to provide some sort of grilled meat.
"Agreed." I smiled proudly.
"I better hurry up though; I have a ton of stuff to do for work," Emmett explained. "Sorry I can't stay. But tax season is coming up and I need to crack those numbers a billion times before I trust them," my brother joked.
"I should probably hit the library to do some more studying; work on my dissertation," I muttered to myself. I really wanted to stay home and wait for Bella but she had told me that she might be late and that it made no sense for me to waste the time waiting when I could be working on my dissertation. I only had a little over two months left to complete it and hand it in.
Emmett finished his dinner and left shortly after, leaving me to my own devices. I was just about to collect my things so I could head to the library for a few hours, knowing it would be easier to concentrate there, when my phone rang.
Bella was calling me.
"Hey you," I greeted her happily, hoping that maybe she would announce she was coming home sooner.
But she did no such thing.
"Hey… I need a favor," she started.
"And what might that be?" I asked teasingly, knowing I would do anything for her anyway.
"Your mother has a few boxes with old clothes that she forgot to bring over and we kind of really need them."
"And you want me to go get them and bring them over?" I guessed.
"I know you were spending the night with Emmett and that you probably have other things to do or just want to relax but it would really help if you did," Bella said, her voice small. "It's pretty packed here so none of us can leave.
"No worries, Emmett had to go back to work so I'll go fetch the boxes at my parents' house and be right over."
"I'm sorry," Bella said again. "Maybe things will slow down in a bit and someone can go get them…" she trailed off.
"It's no problem. You're actually saving me from a very boring evening at the library. Plus, I was sort of missing you so it actually works out well."
"I miss you too," Bella said, a slight smile detectable in her voice. "But I have to go. Thank you, really. See you soon!"
"I'll see you in a bit," I told her before she hung up.
I left my book bag and only grabbed my wallet and keys before heading for the car.
I arrived at my parents' house a little while later, noticing there was a car in the driveway that I hadn't seen before. I knew it wasn't Father Masen's, unless he'd gotten a new car, which seemed doubtful. He'd been driving an old beat up Chevy for as long as I could remember.
My father's Mercedes was parked in the driveway as well, which indicated he was home and that he had company over.
Feeling slightly intrigued, I remembered my mother's worries and wondered what company my father was keeping at this time of night and especially on a night my mother was away.
Was he here with the two mystery men my mother had yet to be introduced to? Was I going to catch him in the proverbial act? That would at least make it easier to confront him about any possible secrets.
I debated on ringing the doorbell instead of using my key but figured that I shouldn't have to act like I was suspicious of anything. It would be better to pretend everything was normal since I had no clue as to what was going on anyway.
So, I used my key and called out, alerting my father to my presence to make sure it didn't seem like I was skulking around. But there was no response.
I decided not to wait for him to appear and went in search of the boxes I was supposed to bring over to the community center.
Then I heard the rapid steps of my father bounding down the stairs in a rush.
"Edward," he greeted me curiously and a little out of breath "What are you doing here?"
He sounded a little out of breath. He looked like he felt caught.
"I came here to pick up some boxes," I explained.
My father looked at me questioningly, clearly he had no idea what I was talking about.
"Boxes?"
"Yes," I nodded. "Mom had set them aside for that clothing handout at the community center tonight. She forgot them and Bella called me a little while ago to ask me if I could pick them up and bring them over."
"I see," he murmured absentmindedly. It was evident he'd barely been listening. I briefly wondered if now was a good time to tell him I was leaving St Joseph; either to shock him out of his distractions or because I could slip it past him without too much conflict since he was barely paying any attention.
"The boxes? Have you seen them?" I asked.
"Hmm, what? Have I seen what?"
"The boxes," I repeated, again. "Have you seen them," I emphasized each word.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't think I have."
His absentmindedness would have been comical, had it not been so frustrating to witness the very thing my mother probably experienced all the time now. How little he cared, how evident his preoccupation was.
"Well, I'll look for them then. You look preoccupied, so don't let me stop you from whatever you were doing," I muttered.
My father seemed to consider that, debating if he should leave me to it, but then he smiled and offered his help, which didn't really surprise me. He probably wanted to make sure I wouldn't wander off to places I wasn't supposed to go. Like his office.
We went into the living room first but there were no boxes to be found there.
"Well, they are not here," my father said, stating the obvious.
"Maybe they are in Mom's study," I suggested, wanting to walk ahead to the stairs to go up, knowing it would spark a reaction.
"No wait," my father stopped me swiftly. "We haven't checked the kitchen yet. If your mother was planning on taking the boxes with her then perhaps she left them there."
I wanted to snort at how transparent he was being; it was obvious he didn't want me to go upstairs. I followed him into the kitchen dutifully, since I didn't have much of a choice. I wasn't going to make a scene or do something rash without concrete proof of something.
"So, how have you been?" my father asked, trying to make small talk with the possible purpose of distracting me.
"Fine. I'm fine," I answered, debating if now was a good moment to tell him about my plan to find a new church. I had yet to call the number from the ad I'd seen online and was wary to go about such a delicate matter in such an unconventional way but Bella had convinced me it couldn't hurt to get some information.
"How's your dissertation coming along? There were times when you kept me up to date with these things and now I have to hear such things through your mother," he murmured. There was no accusation in his voice, just sadness.
"Oh, it's going well. Kate is a good counselor, very helpful."
Except for when she tried to lecture me.
"As for the rest, from what Mom told me, you've been busy too," I said pointedly.
My father nodded to himself. "Yes, it's quite the hectic time."
"Because of New Orleans?" I tried, hoping he would at least make the effort to tell me something.
"Yes, that's still an issue," he said and the frown that deepened on his face was disconcerting.
"Is that what's been taking up all your time? Why you've left Mom alone so much?"
I tried not to sound accusatory but it was difficult. I remembered my mother's words and how peculiar my father had been acting in her perception so it was hard to keep an open mind.
"Your mother spoke about this?" he asked, a little surprised.
"She told me," I clarified. "I suppose she's just sad to be alone so much."
"Well, I hope that in due time things will go back to normal," my father declared and it was impossible to miss the subtle undertone in his words.
He wasn't just talking about being so busy and stressed and leaving my mother to her own devices.
He was making a point in the greater scheme of things. When he talked about things going back to normal, he was talking about me.
My father was waiting for me to get back to normal. Whatever that meant to him.
And there it was; my opening to tell my father that I would no longer be attending mass at St. Joseph and that I was going to find a spiritual home at another church.
My initial nerves about informing my father melted away, leaving irritation in its wake.
I thought about how horribly my father had treated Bella and how he had made snide comments time after time to show his disapproval of her. How he'd mapped out a future for me long before I'd even considered it myself. I couldn't help but wonder when he was going to act "normal".
"Speaking of things going back to normal," I started. "I should inform you that I have decided to find another church."
My father's eyes went wide and his cheeks flamed. For a moment I was worried he was going to lose his composure, but then his stance relaxed and all that was left was the questioning look on his face and the pursed lips that showed how displeased he evidently was about this news.
"I see. That is certainly surprising news," he said. "May I ask why?"
"Because St. Joseph no longer offers the spiritual solace I need. There's too much gossip and judgment going on."
"You have always been a very valuable part of the congregation, Edward. Surely people will be very disappointed by this."
I rolled my eyes. "I am sure they'll be very disappointed to have to find another member to gossip about."
"I must say that I am surprised and disheartened by this new hostility towards the congregation you've belonged to for such a long time. It's very unnatural."
"It's a choice," I shot back.
"Yes. A choice you probably would never have made if it hadn't been for-"
But he didn't get the chance to say her name. He wouldn't put the blame for my own decision on Bella.
"I want this and while I certainly don't need it, it would be nice if you could support me. Bella does."
"Of course she does," my father muttered.
"Stop. At least respect my choices," I countered.
"It would be easier to respect your choices if they weren't so callous. We're in the middle of Lent. Easter is coming up. It's a highly important time and you just 'decide'" – he air quoted – "that you essentially can't handle people being disappointed that you have dropped your faith so much. Did you even fast on Ash Wednesday? Or was Bella's amazing cooking a good reason not to," he said icily.
"I said drop it," I basically yelled. "You don't get to play the disappointment card with me. Not after all the stunts you've pulled.
I took a deep breath.
"Now, since I see no boxes here, I'm going to assume they are in Mom's study. You better go fetch them since it's evident you don't want me up there. I suppose that since whoever's up there does not have the common decency to introduce themselves to Mom, they won't show me the same courtesy."
His mouth dropped and he looked shocked.
"Edward, I..."
"Don't," I muttered. "Get the boxes so I can leave. I don't even care about what you're keeping from Mom. I just hope for her sake it's still worth it to put her faith in you.
"Because I'm done, Dad. I am done!"
"Edward, please," my father pleaded. "You have no idea what's going on."
"Nor do I care," I muttered. "Can you please just get those boxes."
"No," he said firmly. "No until you know the truth..."
I rolled my eyes, no longer believing that anything my father had to say could be considered truthful.
"Don't bother," I murmured.
"It's Bella, Edward. It's about Bella."
Sorry for the delay; sometimes life is plain evil. This chapter was less Bella/Edward heavy and showed more of the (recent) family dynamics. Doctor Deacon is still an ass, now an ass with a secret, which will be revealed soon enough. I'll try to update as soon as I can, since cliffhangers are uncool.
As always, thanks for all the love and patience. It still blows me away! *Waves hello* to new readers. Enjoy the ride!
Have a good week :)
