CHAPTER 15
I felt as though everything was crumbling around me. I expected Edward not to take the news about spirits and Charlie well. I did. I've seen firsthand how he felt about this very topic. I know what he's been through in trying to hold on to the possibility of spirits and communication with them being real, just to be disappointed. I understood how much it would take for him to take something he's so strongly believed for a long period of time and convince him he was wrong…that spirits and communicating with them was possible.
However, I never would have anticipated nor been able to prepare for the moment where he would accuse me of being like the countless others. I thought he knew me. The type of person I was. My character. I didn't think he would truly believe I was capable of such cruelty. Capable of lying and taking advantage of other peoples' pain. Did he really think so low of me? That was the part I could not overlook. The part that was crushing me.
I don't know how long I had been sitting on my knees on the floor. It should be uncomfortable but I'm numb to any pain or discomfort. It's just too much. First the town. Now Edward. I just can't stand it. It feels like too much and I can't get myself back up from this massive hole I've sunken into. I need to get away.
I wipe away my teaser and stand up. The couch is closer and looks inviting. The box of letters are on the coffee table. I make my way slowly, knees protesting from sitting on them so long. I stand and take a shaky breath as I stare ahead of me.
Gran.
Gran is back-seated in front of me next to the box on the coffee table. She's looking at me, sadness in her eyes. I sit up straight, wiping away more tears. I wasn't expecting her to finally make contact. We stare at each other for a few moments before I speak.
"If I use my camera, will you disappear?" I'm not trusting. My voice is hoarse from my crying. She shakes her head, indicating she would not disappear. And suddenly, I'm feeling nervous. It's been ten years since I had a true opportunity to speak with her.
Hesitantly, I pick up my camera and take a picture. I glance at the picture taken—briefly—and then look back at Gran.
"Oh Bella," she says. If I could feel her, embrace her, I'd be pulling her into my arms. But that was one barrier I could never make accessible.
"Gran," my voice breaks. I'm relieved she stayed. Relieved she's communicating with me. "What the hell!?" And I'm admittedly put out.
"Always a way with words," Gran laughs.
"I'm serious," I say. "What is with your disappearing act? Why have you been avoiding me?"
"Sweetheart," she smiles. "You haven't needed me."
"Please tell me you're joking Gran," I look at her in disbelief. "Please."
"I know it hasn't felt that way," she says. "But this is how it was meant to be."
"But I did need you," I tell her. "I still need you. Gran, all these years I've been trying to figure it out. How did I make it out of the water?" She doesn't make a move to answer. She just smiles at me as though I already have the answer.
"Not all things need to be explained Bella," she finally says. But I don't agree. And nothing makes sense.
"Gran, none of it makes sense," I shake my head. "I understood when I believed you had moved on. But ten years later and you're following Edward around? Why him?"
"There's something about him," she shrugs, and I think back to what Charlie said about me. "He's good for you."
"Did you miss our falling out?" I look at her confused. She'd witnessed it. She and Charlie—together I might add, which was strange on its own—had front row seats to that showdown.
"He didn't mean what he said sweetheart," Gran tells me.
"He meant it," I tell her. "He truly thinks I'm capable of lying in such a horrid way to people when they're grieving."
"Well," Gran looks sheepish. "I didn't say he was bright." I'm not laughing.
"It's not funny Gran," I shake my head. "I should've just told him from the start. Before I stupidly got involved with him."
"Bella, you don't mean that," Gran smiles.
"I do," I close my eyes. "It wouldn't hurt to lose him if I never got involved."
"You haven't lost him," she disagrees. "Don't be so quick to shut that door, sweetie. That will be your biggest regret. I promise you."
"I don't know how I can forgive him," I admit. "Or trust him."
"Right now, you don't," Gran nods. "But you will." She smiles at me and looks to the side, seeing the box of letters. "I really wish you hadn't kept these letters."
"Why are you so against me reading them?" I ask, remembering her trying to throw the box out.
"You've been through a lot Bella," Gran tells me. "You're hurting right now. I don't want you to be disappointed if the answers you're looking for are not the ones you're hoping for."
"You told Charlie she's in Phoenix," I say. Gran nods her head.
"She is," she confirms.
"Can she communicate with spirits? Is that what drove her away? Was it me?" I ask.
Gran takes an unnecessary breath. She's preparing for this conversation.
"In her own way, she can," Gran tells me. "But just as with you and I, her gift works differently. It made her world confusing at times."
"I don't understand," I tell her.
"Your mother could see spirits, communicate with them both in the waking world and dream world." Gran tells me.
"Are you saying they would come to her in her dreams?" I ask. She nods her head yes.
"And not always the friendliest of spirits," Gran tells me. "She seemed to attract belligerent entities. She eventually struggled with differentiating what was real and what wasn't. She truly believed they had a way of influencing those around her to do harm…to influence her to do harm."
"So she left?" I asked.
"She left to protect you," Gran says.
"I thought maybe the townsfolk put too much pressure on her to help them," I admit.
"People of Forks have certainly forgotten what a blessing it can be to have someone who can help them the way you do," Gran says, she doesn't look pleased.
"So where is she?" I ask.
"In an in-patient psychiatric facility in Phoenix," Gran tells me, watching for my reaction.
"What?" I'm shocked.
"Our gifts can be a blessing Bella," Gran tells me. "But they can also be a curse."
"You're saying because of her gift, she's locked up?" I ask, not sure how to process this.
"I'm saying that as much as it pains me, your mother's gift did more harm than it did good," Gran looks down sadly.
"Is this why you haven't crossed over?" I ask. "You're keeping an eye on her?"
"You always were perceptive," Gran smiles. "But she's not the only one I'm watching over. I want all to be happy before I can move on."
"All?" I'm confused. "You sound like Charlie."
"She's quite entertaining, isn't she?" Gran laughs. "Reminds me a bit of you."
"Right," I roll my eyes.
"Just, be careful sweetheart," Gran says. "I know there are things you need to do. Answers you are looking for. But be careful."
"You're being cryptic," I tell her. "Can't you just be a little more forthcoming?"
"Some things, we need to figure out for ourselves," Gran smiles. "That's why I'm backing off when it comes to your mother."
"You'll be with me though?" I ask, unsure.
"I'm always with you," Gran smiles. Not a moment later, Gran vanishes. Thus breaking the temporary line of communication, I could have with her. I had a feeling it would be the last. I close my eyes, trying to absorb everything into my memory. I want to hold on to this—the chance to have seen her again and speak with her again—for as long as I realistically could. Charlie had also told me not to close that door to Edward. They were both so determined to make sure I didn't completely write him off. But how could I?
I open the box which contained the letters- there's fewer postcards than I had initially thought. And looking through them, they're dated nearly twenty-five years ago, when she had just left. They're normal. Nothing too specific. But also, don't ask how I am or a mention of missing me. They're from various states around the country.
As the postcards diminish, the letters are the primary focus and it's then I notice they're marked from a psychiatric facility in Phoenix. I'm seeing them go back thirteen years. She'd really been in a facility all this time?
It's stupid. I know. But I want to go see her. I need to see for myself what has become of her. I want to see if she's lucid enough to converse with; learn from her what she had been going through which led her down this path. As Gran had said…for my mother, her gift had been a curse. What did it truly do to her?
But how could I legitimately get to Phoenix without needing to get behind the wheel of a car myself to get there. I'm looking up different options…a flight, a greyhound? I'd never traveled outside of Forks.
I then remember…Rose. Rose had mentioned she travels a lot for work and is on the road quite often. Perhaps she could offer me some insight as to how to best get to Phoenix.
I pull my phone out and dial her number. It's not long before she's answering.
"Bella?" I hear her on the other end of the line.
"Rose, hi," I clear my throat. It's still a bit raw.
"Bella are you ok?" she sounds concerned.
"Yea, yea I'm ok," I tell her. "Is this a bad time?"
"Not at all, what's going on?" she asks.
"I, um, I need to go to Phoenix," I tell her.
"Ok?" she's unsure what my point is. I don't blame her. I'm cryptic.
"I really don't think I can get behind the wheel of a car to drive myself." I tell her. I don't have to explain.
"Right, no I understand," she says. "I think I knew you didn't drive anymore."
"But I need to get to Phoenix," I tell her. "I know you travel a lot for work. Could you recommend a means of transportation?"
"Means of transportation?" Rose laughs. "Bella, I'm going to Phoenix for work. I'll be gone a week. Why don't you just come with me?"
"A week?" I ask. Could I go away for an entire week? How would people react to my being gone that long? Would they be angry? Would they be understanding? What about messages from their loved ones? How would my already scheduled clients handle my rescheduling their sessions? I'd never gone anywhere…
"Yea," Rose tells me. "Come with me. I think it could be good for you to go away."
"I… I'm not sure," I'm on the fence. Could I do it?
"If you're worried about the townsfolk, don't be," Rose tells me. I can hear the seriousness in her tone. "Put yourself first here. You need to get to Phoenix. So go to Phoenix."
"When are you leaving for Phoenix?" I ask, taking a deep breath.
"Three days," she says. So soon?
"So soon?" I'm surprised and feeling nervous.
"Is that ok?" she asks. "I can see if I could delay…"
"No, no," I tell her. "Please don't do that on my account. I'll make arrangements at the studio. I'll go with you."
"That's great Bella," Rose says.
"Where should I meet you?" I ask.
"I'll come meet you at the courtyard at seven in the morning," she tells me. "Does that work?"
"It does, thank you so much," I tell her.
"Bella, are you sure you're ok?" she asks after a moment.
"I don't know," tears fill my eyes again, but I'm in control this time. I don't know if Rose and the others know anything about what happened between Edward and I. And I certainly am not ready to dive into that conversation. I have no doubts she'll ask while we travel to Phoenix. But right now? I'm just not ready.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She offers.
"I don't think I'm ready to," I admit. "But thank you. I appreciate the offer."
"Anytime Bella," she seems unsure if she should let me off the phone. But if I have three days before I head to Phoenix, then there's much to be done. First and foremost, tomorrow morning I needed to head to the studio to go through the appointment book and start rescheduling. Then I could focus on packing.
For tonight, I'm calling it a day. It's been a mentally and physically exhausting day and I just wanted to get some rest. I don't check my phone for messages. I don't trust myself not to be tempted to respond if Edward has tried reaching out. Instead, I put the phone on the charger and jump into bed after getting myself ready. It's too early but that doesn't seem to be a factor because I'm out like a light as soon as my head hits the pillow.
The next morning, there isn't time to waste. I had calls to make. I grab my bag, the open box on the coffee table catching my attention as I'm getting ready to leave. I walk over and grab a handful of the letters I had stopped on. I figure I could take some with me.
"There better not be any missing," I say out loud. If Gran or Charlie are hanging around, they're not making themselves known. But just in case, I'm giving fair warning not to mess with my stuff again.
I take my time walking to the studio. I wonder if I'll run into anyone on the way—specifically I wonder if Clara and I will cross paths. On one hand I want to talk with her. But think against it because with how emotionally charged I'm feeling, I may not be as calm and collected as I try my best to be. I breathe a sigh of relief when I make it to the studio without disruption. I lock the door behind me.
I go over to my desk to go through the different appointments scheduled for the week ahead. I feel like something is off when it's mainly the most random headshots. Engagement shoots and family portraits are scattered throughout the month ahead. But somehow, this upcoming is mainly headshots and again, like earlier, for individuals who truly don't have businesses to market. I'm not one to judge…if they want headshots, they want headshots. But I sense it's more of an example of individuals in town utilizing my studio under the guise of hoping someone would come through. I needed to get away.
I call nearly all and successfully reschedule. It wasn't well received, especially when I would not provide a reason for the reschedule. I didn't find it appropriate or a need to share my personal business this way.
I feel better, at least, knowing the week is taken care of. And so before I head back home, I take out some of the letters I brought with me and start looking through it.
None are addressed to anyone. But one is addressed from five years ago.
The shadows are menacing again. They speak in riddles, invading each crevice of my mind. Don't you see them? Don't you hear them?
What was my mother going through? Just what type of spirits invaded her dreams? I wasn't naïve. I understood that just as we encounter spirits of our loved ones ..that in the world of the unknown, other entities could linger. It's why I always tell people not to mess with things they don't know anything about…like ouja boards. I, myself, had never encountered something dark…like a demon. I didn't discount the possibility things like this lurking around out there or hauntings…but I felt something kept that facet of the spiritual plane away from me. But what about my mom?
The letters are each of the same tone as the one she sent five years ago. None are personal. At all. But then I get to one dated from ten years ago. Just before the accident.
Don't let her get in the car. Don't do it. Head my warning. They're circling. Gathering. Lurking in the shadows. They want her. Keep her away. Keep her safe.
I must have read and reread this letter ten times, processing it. Who was she warning to stay out of the car? Me? Gran? Who was after "her"? Did they win? Was it Gran? Who needed to be kept safe?
I was so confused. I needed answers and was so thankful I had decided to head to Phoenix. I would ask her about this directly myself.
I make a sign indicating I'll be away and place it on the door as I lock up. When I'm sure it's secure and in place, I turn only to bump into someone as I turn around. I don't need to know who it is. I feel who it is by the electric surge I feel go through me as we connect. It's Edward. He's here, with his arms carefully bracing me to help keep me steady.
"I'm so sorry," he says. I don't look him in the eye.
"My fault," I say, shrugging out of his embrace. "I wasn't looking where I was going."
"Bella," his voice is pleading. "Please. Please hear me out." I look into his eyes. I shake my head. I don't think I can do it. Gran's voice is in my head reminding me not to close the door to Edward.
"I thought you were going to Seattle," I tilt my head to the side, remembering he was supposed to leave yesterday.
"Something infinitely more important came up," he tells me.
"I said I needed time," I remind him.
"And I get it, I promise I do," he tells me. "But I can't leave it like this. Not after how badly I know I ruined everything. I can't leave it that way. I can't wait. You're too important." I'm confused.
Before I could respond, I hear my name being urgently called. It's getting closer and closer. Our attention is pulled away from each other as Clara is rushing over.
"Bella!" she exclaims, finally reaching us.
"Clara," I say. She's another person I did not want to encounter her today. Not after Helen mentioned Clara's been talking about me to the townsfolk, putting doubts in their heads over her own vendetta.
"I was going to stop in and schedule a session with you, only to see your sign that you're going away." There isn't a question she's posing to me. And she grows frustrated when I don't initially respond. I can see Edward eyeing her cautiously.
"Just where is it you are going that takes you away for a week?" she demands to know. "A week! Do you not realize there are people waiting patiently for you to decide to take a picture for us?"
I see Edward glare at her.
"Where I'm going isn't really anyone's business Clara," I tell her. "And I have no obligations to anyone to take pictures outside of the main purpose I do them: to help capture new memories."
"You do have an obligation to the people of this town," Clara insists. "What would you Gran think of you ignoring the needs of the people of this town so you can selfishly go away?"
"I'm going to stop you right there Clara," Edward steps in. He's using himself to create a barrier between myself and Clara. "I think perhaps you are losing sight as to how lucky the people in this town are to have someone as real, true, and genuine as Bella. There are people in the world out there who are frauds and make a living exploiting people like you to fool them into thinking they're the real deal. And yet you have the real deal in front of you…You really think it's appropriate to take advantage of her?"
Clara's eyes go wide. She's not used to people talking back to her.
"Why, I never— "she's in shock and Edward has cut her off.
"I wasn't done," he tells her. "I suggest if you want Bella to be generous enough to do a session with you, that you back the hell away from her and think long and hard about what your next steps are going to be. Because over my dead body will I tolerate you speaking to Bella the way that you are."
She's looking back and forth between us. I'm stunned to silence as well. Where the hell was all this coming from? Clara doesn't dare speak again. I'm not sure what look Edward is giving her from my position behind him but whatever it is, is enough for her to think again and leave us in peace. He waits untils he's gone and out of sight before turning to face me.
"I'm sorry if I overstepped," he tells me, looking down unsure of my reaction. I'm looking over his shoulder to where Clara had disappeared to briefly see Gran in the distance, smiling with pride at the display. She gives me a knowing look before disappearing. I shake my head. Meddler.
"You understand why I'm confused right now…" I finally say.
"I know and that's my fault," he says. "But I would like the chance to make things right."
"Edward, I'm going away for a week," I shake my head.
"I know," he says. I look up at him, surprised.
"What?" I ask, confused.
"Don't get mad," he starts. I'm intrigued. "I'm going to Phoenix with Rose…and you."
My jaw drops. He's going where now?