Huge thanks to Sherry and Paige! I don't know where this story would be without you!
"Is there anybody going to listen to my story
All about the girl who came to stay?
She's the kind of girl
You want so much it makes you sorry
Still you don't regret a single day
Ah, girl, girl, girl."
-The Beatles-
EPOV:
Moving is difficult, but moving with a baby is far worse. It feels incredible though, having my own place. I feel as if my life is finally in order. The simplicity of life that I once hated is now something I find comfort in. I was so jaded in my younger years. The idea of going to work, paying bills, and being a productive member of society seemed so monotonous. Much less exciting than the life I had been leading. But now, the idea of sleeping on random couches, working dead-end jobs, and spending all my money on different methods of self-medication, seems horrible.
Looking around my still empty apartment, I smile, and take a breath of fresh city air. The only room I have completely set up, with my dad's help, is Charlies. I have a crib and I decorated the room to the best of my abilities. It's filled with toys and all the supplies I need for him. Charlie loves it, or at least his excessive laughter suggests that he does. I can't help but get teary-eyed, seeing Charlie so happy. I hope that I can make him this happy every day.
I'm proud of how I set up his room. I purchased books for him, after reading online that it was good to read to babies…yes, I had to consult google for information on how to raise a baby…and set up a bookcase in the corner of his room. I placed all of his toys, new and old, in colorful containers, and I put decals of Disney characters on his walls. I felt almost silly decorating the room, just because it's so out of character for me, but I did it with a smile on my face nonetheless.
Dad gave me a television, he had set up in the basement, and some furniture that had been in Seth's house to fill my small apartment. It feels odd sitting on my brother's old couch, using my brother's old kitchenware…it's just is a morbid reminder of his not being here. I don't have the finances to afford much else, and I don't want to ask dad for money to buy something new.
Charlie and I have only been in the apartment for a few days now, and I have to say, the separation from my mom is nice. She hadn't been to the apartment, too busy with her friends to check out her grandson's new home. It's been a difficult transition at times, especially when I don't have my parents to rely on. It's just Charlie and me now…and it's terrifying. I can't help but be extremely paranoid that a problem will arise and I will have no idea how to solve it. Babies are just so smalland rely on you for everything. Every second I think I'm going to do something wrong and hurt Charlie somehow. But so far, so good, and Charlie is happy, healthy, and safe.
The first few nights in the new apartment, I have gotten out of bed and trudged to Charlie's room to check on him. His sleeping has been weird lately, and I don't know if it's because of the move or what. After two days of checking on him hourly, I finally moved his crib into my room so I could have peace of mind. Even though I have to work early, around five in the morning five days a week, I still stay up at night and keep an eye on my baby.
Waking up for work today, I find Charlie is a bit more fussy than usual. I wonder if he is getting sick? That thought makes me nervous and I can't find it within myself to leave him. He won't stop crying, but as I assess him, I can't find the root of the problem. With Charlie safely in my arms, I grab my cell phone to call Emmett. I hope he understands about situations like this, and hearing Charlie crying in the background of my phone call, he will know that I'm not just trying to get out of a day of work.
"Emmett," I say as soon as I hear him pick up, "I think Charlie is sick."
"Charlie?" he questions.
Suddenly, I realize that in all of our short encounters of small talk, I never brought up having a baby. I just didn't want to share too much about my personal life I suppose. Also, I find that if you mention a baby, everyone wants to give you advice. Or perhaps I have merely been around my mother and her friends too long…
"He's my nephew," I explain, "I'm all he has and I think he is sick or something." I know I must sound lost and confused, and luckily, Emmett takes pity on me.
"Okay dude," he sighs, "that's fine. Just take care of him and call me about working tomorrow."
I thank him, and hang up, quickly making my way to the kitchen to find some formula for Charlie. I could have given him to my mother for the day, but I feel so paranoid about leaving his side. What if something happened to him and I wasn't there? I wonder if all parents feel this way.
"What's wrong buddy?" My voice shakes with worry as I rock my crying boy in my arms. "Please tell me what's wrong; I don't know what to do."
I don't know why I plead with him, I know he can't talk, it's almost like I'm praying for some sort of divine intervention. If it could work for Jules and Vincent inPulp Fiction, why couldn't it work for me now? I give Charlie his bottle, but he doesn't want to eat and continues to cry instead.
"Please buddy, food in your belly might help," I plead with him, but he continues to cry.
I kiss his face and rock him, trying my best to be as soothing as possible. His face is wet and his skin is soft beneath my lips. He feels so fragile and I want to wrap him protectively in my arms always.
Minutes tick by and he doesn't stop. With my free hand, I pull out my phone and search Google for advice. Trusty Google, always there when I need it.As soon as different sicknesses pop up and plenty of words that I don't understand, I put my phone away and try to calm him, praying that I won't have to take him to the doctors. I don't even know a doctor.I can't remember the last time I've had a check-up. The moment my parents stopped setting the appointments up for me, I stopped going.
An hour has passed and his cries haven't ceased. I'm about to call my mom when I hear a knock at the door. I'm sure it is a neighbor I have pissed off. It's barely six in the morning and I'm sure many people would be annoyed with waking an hour or two before their alarm clock sounds. With Charlie in my arms, I march toward the door, fully intent on defending myself to whatever neighbor felt the need to come reprimand me for my thoughtlessness. But when I open the door, I am not met by the sight of an irate neighbor, but instead, I find the beautiful brunette from the supermarket.
She's in a bathrobe, her hair is soft, curly, and reaches below her waist, and her face is make-up free. She looks as if she just woke up, and she is so incredibly beautiful. Natural and without an ounce of effort, I'm sure this is something many women would kill for. Finally, I come back down to reality and realize I've been staring at her for an awkward amount of time. I close my mouth and give her the best smile I can manage. She gives me a shy smile and looks down to Charlie, who is still crying in my arms.
"I'm sorry if we woke you, I'm pretty sure he is getting sick or something," I comment, unable to take my eyes off of her.
"Poor baby," she says with a cute pout.
Her voice is just as sweet as I imagined it.
"I think he might be getting sick or something," I explain, suddenly nervous in her presence. "He has been really cranky and has been crying all morning."
My brunette smiles at me for a moment, before looking at the fussy boy in my hands, "You have tried everything and nothing is calming him," she contemplates for a moment, and then asks, "Has his sleeping patterns been different at all? Has he not been eating like he is supposed to?"
I smile, happy that she has named some of his symptoms. Maybe she knows a lot about this sort of thing. "Yes, he didn't want to eat this morning and has been weird about it for the past few days. We just moved, so I thought it could be that…"
My brunette nods, reaches out to feel Charlie's head, and finally asks, "Do you think he could be teething?"
The blank look on my face causes her to giggle.
"I have some Baby Orajel If you want to give that a try," she says, gesturing toward her apartment.
Not knowing what Baby Orajel is, but trusting the beautiful girl's opinion, I say, "That would be great!"
She leaves for a moment, returning with a small tube and a few cotton swabs. I welcome her inside, a bit embarrassed as she takes in the sight of boxes on the floors, and direct her toward a couch. She sits at my side, and squeezes a bit of the Baby Orajel on a cotton swab and asks me if Charlie could open his mouth for her.
"He must be really uncomfortable," she says as she expertly applies the ointment.
"How do you know so much about kids, if you don't mind me asking?" I feel as if I can barely form a coherent sentence around her. I've never felt so embarrassed. This girl must think I'm an idiot.
"My sister has a baby," she says with an attractive smile, "Well, toddler now. I used to babysit her when she was little."
I feel relieved by this news. It will be nice to have someone close by who knows a thing or two about babies. Being hot is another added bonus of course…
"So, you're my neighbor, then?" I ask dumbly, as if I hadn't seen her enter her apartment directly across the hallway from mine moments before.
"Yep, I saw you move in a few days ago," she blushes, "I'm Bella Swan."
Bella Swan.A beautiful and very fitting name.
"I'm Edward Cullen and this little guy is Charlie."
She smiles at the little guy, who is now more agreeable in my arms. "He looks so much like you."
"He looks a lot like my brother actually," I say awkwardly, "Charlie is my nephew."
She looks up at me, and sees the pain in my eyes. Bella looks as if she wants to say something, but holds back and gives me a kind smile instead. "So, is it just the two of you?" she asks, shyly.
Is this her way of asking me if I have a girlfriend?That's probably just wishful thinking on my part. I'm sure a girl like her, could do a lot better than someone like me. I have so much baggage, and it's scary to introduce someone to something like that. Even without the baggage, I have so much on my plate; I can't add a girl to the mix. I don't know why I'm contemplating this at all. It's something that will never happen.
But that doesn't mean I can't be a friend to my beautiful and intelligent brunette. The beautiful and intelligent brunette that is so far out of my league it is laughable.
A/N: Aw, Edward is so hard on himself. But for the last few years, he self-medicated and now feels as if he is behind everyone else. All he needs is a bit of confidence, and maybe a special brunette can help him out in this department. If you liked this, please leave me a review! Your reviews are better than all the chocolate in the world. And I have a sweet tooth so that's saying something haha.
Song- "Girl" by The Beatles.