Notes: The day after the shooting incident. Real life descends.


Bella has to be at the shelter early the next day to begin addressing the disaster of the day before, tackling both the monumental and mundane. Not only is there media to respond to, and more inquiries from law enforcement -- not to mention the legal ramifications -- but the surprise attack by Brady meant no grocery shopping was done and the shelter is out of milk and other staples. Yet as Maddie is in her last week before finals, Bella can hardly expect her to skip class to run to Kroger's. "God, I hate asking you this," Bella says to Edward as she searches through her briefcase for the grocery list. She dressed a bit nicer today than usual because she'll likely be talking to lots of official people. "But I need some help."

He kneels down in front of her chair and takes her busy hands in his, stilling them. "What do you need me to do?

He's been a saint since she got up, making her breakfast, packing her a lunch, getting clothes for her when she realized she'd taken the wrong underpants into the bathroom with her ... and there was no time for sex at all. He didn't even ask. "Grocery shopping," she says now, trying to suppress a grin. "I know, I know -- vampires grocery shopping -- "

"It's fine," he tells her. "What do you need?" He glances around the kitchen.

"It's not for me, it's for the shelter." She hands him the list she made while sitting in the police station yesterday.

He glances down the items. "Any particular brand of frosted flakes?" he asks.

"Generic. We shop on a budget." She hands him the shelter's bank card. His name is already on it as he's needed to use it before to get medical supplies, if never milk, cereal and sugar. "Don't get any extras," she warns. "It's December, so things are tight with the holidays. Cheapest fresh fruit, red peppers only if they cost less than green -- etcetera."

"Got it, boss."

She doesn't quite trust him. His eyes have a glint, but she's desperate. "Thank you. For everything." She pulls his head in to kiss him. "I'm sorry for sending you shopping instead of spending the morning in bed with you, but you're wonderful and I promise to make it up to you Friday night."

He laughs. "You look like you're going in four directions at once this morning. This is the least I can do." He stands. "You don't need to make it up to me, but I'll look forward to Friday all the same. See you shortly at the shelter."

It still takes her twenty minutes before she can get out of the house, and thankfully, someone went to the shelter last night to bring the van back so she has something to drive. She spends her morning on the phone and barely even hears when Edward arrives with the groceries, except that Denise, one of the little girls currently living there, is squealing in excitement over "Chocolate!"

Oh, God, Bella thinks, rubbing her temples. He got extras anyway. She should know better than to send a man -- even a vampire man -- to the grocery store with a list and strict instructions to follow it. Mark had never been able to walk out with only what was on a list, either. At least Bella can't blame it on sending him shopping while hungry.

He slips in her door and closes it behind him. She looks up. "You bought extras."

"On my dime." He hands her the recipts -- both of them. "You can put it with the donations." He knows she has to keep track of such things for tax purposes, and when she looks at the "donation" bill, it really isn't that much, only $34 and some change.

"What did you get?"

"Mostly Christmas candy. There are kids here. They need candy canes."

"And chocolate."

"And chocolate."

"Their mothers are going to hate you for the caffeine fix."

He chuckles and sits down in the chair in front of her desk, stretching out his long legs. "But the kids love me -- which means the next time I have to give them an exam or a shot, they might not scream as loudly. Or at least, they might trust me better if I say it won't hurt . . . much."

"Sugar-bribery will get you everywhere. Especially with the under-twelve crowd."

"I hope it's still effective for the over-twenty-eight crowd." He pulls a bag out of his pocket and pushes it across her desk.

"Ooooh," she moans, hurrying to open it. "Linden cream-filled truffles!"

"I thought you might need that today. I'd have gone by a real confectioner, but I was in a hurry and that's about the best chocolate the store had."

"Even Hershey's would do today. At the rate things are going, I may finish this entire bag before noon."

"That bad, huh?"

"Don't get me started. I just got off the phone with Rose. Brady's arraignment will be scheduled as soon as he's out of Habersham County Medical, and he'll likely be offered cash-bail."

"Bail?" Edward sounds shocked.

"Rose will argue he's a flight risk, of course, but our judge is the same one we've had trouble with before. Brady may be the black sheep, but his family still has a lot of strings to pull."

"Isn't this a capital crime? Assault with a deadly weapon?"

"No, it's only a felony-two because it wasn't successful, plus it's his first charge involving a weapon and the only injury was to himself. The question is whether the judge will set a high bail, and the answer is probably not. The restraining order will also be reconsidered and modified, but I'm worried. We know Brady's impulsive and routinely makes bad choices. Now he's feeling increasingly boxed in, which makes him desperate. I'm afraid he might run. But I talked to Hannah this morning, and she's more afraid he'll try to sue for custody. He doesn't want the girls, but he'll want this baby if it's a boy. He can demand a paternity test, I think, and then he'll have a claim on the baby -- although if we get the right judge, I'm pretty sure we can make a case that he shouldn't have custody and possibly not even contact. Storming into Alice's shop with a gun is a good argument against that." Her tone is snide. Edward has been nodding.

"In any case, we need to settle Hannah's situation before the baby's born, but a paternity suit could require her to stay in White County, or at least in Georgia. She needs to leave the state -- preferably a long way away -- and start over. Brady is more rooted to this area than she is." She pauses and studies Edward. "Can we get her an ultrasound to determine the baby's gender? She's pretty sure if it's a girl, Brady's interest will disappear. She's at five months now, isn't she?"

"Twenty-one weeks. I'll talk to her OB; he probably already has one scheduled." He sits back and glances at the door to be sure it's closed. In a soft voice, he says, "I can talk to the technician too. Depending on who it is, I might be able to get her, or him, to hedge even if she's pretty certain it's a boy. That wouldn't be an out-and-out lie. Gender determination can be tricky and if finding out the baby is possibly a girl would make him sign away his rights . . . "

"I love your sneaky mind, Dr. Masen. She was hoping to claim Brady isn't the father even though she's pretty sure he is."

"She's only pretty sure?" Edward's expression is priceless.

"Don't ask," she warns him. "It just gets ugly."

He snorts. "Well, she was sure it was Brady's when I first checked her out."

"Apparently there's reason for doubt. Or maybe she's just capitalizing on Brady's accusations that she was having an affair behind his back with one of his hunting buddies and with her brother's best friend."

"Two other guys?" Head lowered, he pinches the bridge of his nose, then looks up at her from the corner of his eyes. "How do people get themselves into situations like this? Don't they realize how crazy it looks from the outside?"

"Oh, this case isn't that crazy, Edward. It's just a little crazy." She raises her hand to show about an inch between thumb and forefinger. "We've seen crazier. The main problem here is that they both have serious anger management problems and lack a lot of common life skills, but only one of them is doing anything about it. I'm pretty sure Hannah's saying whatever it takes to get Brady off her back, but I need to have one of our counselors talk to her, because claims of infidelity could come back to bite her at a trial. Finding out the baby is a girl is probably a better tact . . . assuming it turns out to be."

"He's got three other girls and the likelihood of fathering boys decreases slightly as a man ages -- not that he's really old enough for that to matter yet, but I'd say chances are quite good the fetus is female."

"Let's keep our fingers crossed."

Edward hangs out at the shelter until noon. He plays Uno with some of the children, which surprises Bella. Rose adores playing with them but typically Edward's only contact with them is for physicals or to patch up bumps and bruises or give vaccines. He's not bad with them, clearly having more patience for kids than their former high school classmates, but he does talk over their heads at times. And when one of the little girls gets brave and sits on his knee, he just looks awkward, like he's not sure what to do. "I think you have an admirer," Bella tells him later.

He shrugs. "I'm surprised she wanted to get that close -- reminds me of you, actually. Most humans are attracted to us but keep some physical distance. She . . . didn't."

Bella just laughs at him. "She's eight and you're cute . . . and safe -- and yes, some little girls do start that young. Wait till she asks you to marry her."

His face is pained. "I wouldn't know how to answer that." His eyes meet hers. "Can I say I'm taken? What do we tell the people here?"

Her own smile turns to a frown. "I think it would be . . . hard . . . for us to pretend we're still just friends. Maddie's figured it out; she assumes we're seeing each other. Maybe that's enough for now. We don't need to get more specific, and a lot of people date a long time. I can get away with not taking you home to Charlie if you're 'just' a boyfriend, whereas if you're a fiancé or husband, I can't." She takes a deep breath. "I'll have to tell Martha, I guess."

"You said she said you should start seeing people."

"She did. But telling me to do so and actually finding out I am . . . those are two different things. She's . . . very wise. But she's still my late husband's mother."

He nods. "Being your boyfriend is a good story for the next couple years. It'll simplify a lot but not cause too many ripples." He bends then to kiss her goodbye. "You're still my wife though, in my head," he whispers.

"You're still my husband," she whispers back.

All things considered, the next few days pass with surprisingly few bumps. Brady's shoulder surgery goes well and if he'll need physical therapy -- and likely be unable to continue doing heavy construction work -- he'll be fine in the end. Fortunately for the shelter, whatever local sway the family has stops at the police-station doors. Brady has been a trouble-maker too long. Between his rap sheet and the testimony of the shop customer, no charges will be pressed against Esme. The White County News runs the story inside on the bottom of 5A, instead of the bottom-front where Bella had expected it (given the quiet nature of the area). They lucked out, because new Environmental Protection Agency regulations were released Monday that would affect state and national parks -- one of which is right next door to Helen -- so national news trumped local and took a 72-point headline on the top deck right below the masthead, along with a couple of companion pieces and info-graphics. Yet Bella also wonders if the newspaper editor may have made a discernment choice, slipping it back in the section so as to draw less attention to it. She did call Bella to ask if she could do an editorial on the shelter here and the importance of shelters generally -- no pictures to maintain confidentiality -- which Bella gratefully granted.

Friday morning, Carlisle drops by her office. Edward is supposed to pick her up at noon to go sign a bunch of papers, so she's a little surprised when Carlisle knocks on her half-open door and sticks his head in. "Bella? Have you got a minute?"

"Yes, of course!" She lays down her pen and rolls out from behind the desk. It doesn't feel right to sit back there with Carlisle in the room. He commands a unique respect. He closes the door, takes a seat and leans over, hands clasped before him. "How's Esme?" Bella asks.

"She's doing better, thank you for asking. The last few days haven't been easy for her, but I think . . . Well, I can't condone violence, but this was a monumental event for her healing, to be able to protect another who depended on her. In a way, it was Esme protecting the young woman she once was."

Bella nods. Her mind is spinning, trying to figure out what brought Carlisle here. "I'm not still angry at her. She knows that, right?"

"I think she does, Bella." He smiles faintly. "But I'm not here about Esme, although we're both terribly appreciative of how you've gone to bat not only for the shelter and Hannah, but for Esme too with both the press and local law enforcement."

"Esme has become the heart of this shelter. It wouldn't be right to do less."

He nods. "She'd be happy to hear that. But what I came about was to tell you that I plan to open a local general practice. The regional hospital is down in Habersham County and I don't want to commute to Demorest, at least not daily. More to the point, in this era of specialization, GPs are becoming too few and far between, if more critical than ever, especially in these rural areas. Yet it's what I trained to be originally, and what I still love best . . . to be an old-fashioned family doctor." He lowers his voice so it won't carry. She must lean forward to hear him. "The fact I have so many years experience and have specialized in several fields also allows me to bring a level of care most GPs can't hope to provide. I firmly believe that rural communities deserve that no less than big cities."

Bella is sure this is all true, but she's still a little baffled as to why he's here. He smiles at her and says, "I've purchased a small office building about two miles down the county road. Esme and Emmett are already working on plans to remodel it as a medical practice with lab and out-patient surgery, but I wanted it to be close because I want to make it available for your clients when something more is needed than your pantry-cum-clinic. I'll also be happy to assist Edward with clinic work here. While I think this volunteer service has been good for him -- and I don't want him to stop, by any means -- I'd . . . like to have something to share with him. There are times when he's on duty in Atlanta but you may need a doctor 'in the house,' so to speak, without taking clients thirty minutes down State Road 17 to the closest ER. All fees at my practice will be waived, of course, although government health insurance makes that a little easier these days."

Bella is sure her mouth is hanging open. This is so much more than she could have hoped for. Even Edward's volunteer time just supplements their nurse. To have Carlisle literally down the road in walking distance (if a long walk), is a godsend. And as much as she respects Edward's skill, Carlisle has been practicing medicine for over 150 years. In that time, he's been not only a family doctor, he's done internal med, orthopedics, cardiology, endocrinology, oncology, pediatrics, and acted several times as head resident for ERs around the country. He's a walking encyclopedia of medical expertise . . . free. "Thank you," she says with complete sincerity.

He smiles. "You're more than welcome. Bella, I couldn't be prouder of what you, Rose, Esme and Alice have built here. And Emmett and Edward and Jasper, too, of course -- but it's mostly my girls . . . if you'll forgive me the old-fashioned language. It's extraordinary. I want to help. My time overseas was a great blessing. I feel renewed, as both a physician and a human being -- so to speak, but one doesn't have to go halfway around the world to be of service."

He starts to rise, but Bella blurts out, "Could I ask a question, and your opinion?"

"Certainly." He sits back down.

Bella drops her eyes. "I've been trying to think of something for Edward for Christmas. I have an idea but . . . I wanted to talk to you about it, and I'd need your help anyway." Carlisle appears curious and nods for Bella to go on. "This is something only I can give him, and otherwise, I can't get him anything he couldn't get for himself -- "

"Bella, that's not the measure of a good present, you know -- "

"I know. And I know it's not about what I spend, either, but I'd really like to give him something special. I'm just not sure about the . . . etiquette?"

Carlisle's head tilts. "The etiquette? You mean for a man born in Edward's time?"

"No. I mean, ah, vampire etiquette. I want to give him a pint of my blood." She blurts it out and can see how much the suggestion startles him. "I know that may sound a little crazy, but people donate blood all the time for hospitals. This would be more, um, personal, but it's not like it would hurt me or cost anything. And for him, it would be like getting, I don't know, Dom Perignon. It's the one thing I can give him that I know he really wants, and that only I can provide. It'd be giving him something of myself."

She's actually managed to leave Carlisle speechless. She hopes it's not with horror as she knows his policy on drinking human blood but this isn't the same at all, to her mind. Finally, he sits up and says, "Bella, that's . . . very gracious." And she can tell just from the tone of his voice that he's going to turn her down. "It's also -- forgive me -- an extremely bad idea." His smile is sardonic. "I think I understand why you're offering, and it's uncommonly accepting of who he is. But it would be like offering a 20-year sober member of AA a bottle of good French wine."

Bella feels her face fall. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I know." Carlisle leans in and covers her hand with both of his. "It's a beautiful offer, but you must understand it would be a terrible temptation. If he were to taste your blood, it might drive him into such a frenzy, he'd kill you for the rest. And that would kill him more surely than any stake through his heart. Moreover, it's against what we stand for, to drink from humans."

Sighing, Bella runs a hand through her hair. "I was afraid you'd say that. I know you don't drink human blood and why, but this would be a gift. He wouldn't be taking it or taking a human life. I'd be giving it. It'd cost me so very little and give him something unique."

"I understand that, and it's actually a lovely gesture -- in theory. But this is less about philosophy than possible danger to you. Even if he could manage to drink it and not instantly attack you, it would undo all the work he's done to be around you. Just the offer of such a thing might be too much. I'm quite certain he'd turn it down, at least at first. But the idea would sit in the back of his mind and become a terrible temptation. That wouldn't be good."

"He once called me his personal heroin."

Carlisle is clearly amused. "Unfortunately, that's not a bad metaphor -- up to and including the highly addictive nature of the drug."

So much for that idea. Bella wonders if she should be embarrassed even to have brought it up, but he says, "Don't be ashamed." He probably noticed her blush, or smelled it. "I'm glad you love him enough to offer; it shows you can accept him for who he is. There's nothing of shame in that. But I'm also glad you did ask me first." Carlisle leans forward and says, "What I think he'd like most is your time. Your touches. Your kisses. Your human warmth. You've made him a very happy man these last few weeks -- last few months, really. I've only ever seen him like this once before -- ten years ago in Forks. And to be truthful, I think that was but a moon's glow to the sun of his joy now. He feels complete with you. If you want to make him happy, give him a wedding ring. A simple gold band, I think. Edward isn't keen on flash. He might not be able to wear it often, but it would mean the world to him. He wants to wear your ring as you wear his. Have it engraved on the inside with something just for him. That will be the best present -- Christmas or otherwise -- that you could give him."

Bella nods. "Thank you."

"You're most welcome," Carlisle says. Then standing, he bends to kiss the top of her head and departs.

Bella ponders their exchange, then opens her phone to call Rose. "Edward has claimed me for the afternoon, but could you and I go ring shopping tomorrow afternoon?"


Notes: A little wedding mush next time around! I hope to have up the next part by the weekend!