A/N: It's my party and I cry if I want to. *cries for days* A treat for you on my day. January Birthdays are cold and tiring. If you're preggers and due, hold off. Your child will thank you. xoxo
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Chapter 40 - A Secret That Isn't
Charlie sighs. He lets the fork go and it clanks onto the ceramic plate. Chicken and Waffle bits remain. He didn't eat it all. Usually, he'd share it with Renee. She'd get the omelet with the hash. He would sneak forkfuls from her plate to his lips. She'd do the same from his.
What would she think now at what he and Bella have become? Renee would be angry. She'd be sitting across from his booth and tell him to be stern, but gentle with their daughter.
He thought he was. It's different now.
She's grown. She's a woman. The likeness to her mother is strong. He sees it every day, especially over that glow as she grows that baby. Just like her mother.
Charlie makes the trip. It's early, but he likes it like this. He parks and walks over the cool ground, the grass growing slowly by the day. The winter that cloaked the earth has gone. He tried not to think of it, his wife underneath all of that. He can't fathom the ashes to dust, literally melding together. His Renee. Laying there under the snow.
He dusts off the gravestone and kneels before it. A kiss on his hand, he presses to the letters that form her name; right by A mother, A wife, A daughter, and A friend.
His everything.
"Go," Renee seems to say. He feels it deep in his chest. "Go to her. She needs you." The premonition nudges and nudges. He doesn't get it, but when a man is a parent, he feels things. Right now, he feels something.
He shakes it off. He gets ready to head back to meet Sam. He's already making him wait.
In the car, he revs the engine. He stops at a light and suddenly, he gets the urge to run it. Charlie swerves the car and takes a right. The path leads quickly toward the cabin, but it's a rough drive. He bounces around, carving through the rubble.
"Quickly," something seems to tell him. The gas pedal hits the floorboard.
The cabin appears, and he's turning that wheel in circles to get there faster. The coast is clear. The door is closed, the lights inside are lit just like he left them. He hops out. He goes around, making turns around the outside of the cabin. Nothing. He goes inside. Still nothing.
What is it? His hands find his hips as he stands in the living room. The window looking over the lake, the treetops. Campers mill about. Canoes sway. Rings spread from ripples of water as ducks take a dip. Everything is as it should be … but one thing.
His eyes scrunch up. There's Jameson by the shore.
Why would he be by the shore, standing there, shuffling his feet like a nervous schmuck? Charlie always did wonder about him.
Where's Bella, though? He can't spot her when he looks around.
He decides to leave the cabin. To get closer. He has to ask.
Just when Charlie steps onto the shore's sand, he spots Sue. She parks by the docks further up, all her equipment in tow; her medical bag, and a bright yellow and black EMT duffle. She runs. They both do. Far and beyond the lake, passing it, and onto a hill.
Charlie breaks out into a run, too.
Never has he ran so fast in his life. Not even in high school track when the coarse ground under his cleats gave him the freedom. His muscles aren't the same as they were but damned if they don't spring up, tense up, and move just as they used to; his heart hammering to every footfall.
Bella.
"Hey!" he shouts as he dives and weaves through trees. The two don't hear him. He figures he'll save his breath. Those are coming loudly from his chest.
Bella.
The screams are faint but loud enough. That's her. That's his little girl screaming at the top of her lungs in agonizing pain. He speeds up. He loses sight of Sue and Jameson, but her screams are a guide.
"Bella!" he shouts.
And then he yelps out loud. So does Sam. They run right into one another around those tall boulders.
The older man grabs his heart. Charlie is in half at the waist catching his breath. "What in Christ!" he yells hysterically.
"Nevermind that. Just calm down first." Sam lifts a hand.
"Calm down?! I see James and Sue running from the lake. What's happening? Where the hell is Bella?" He waves his arms.
Sam sighs. "It's … a long story. Come," Sam says hesitantly. He disappears beyond the boulders.
Bella is more than occupied, but she hears her father. Her grunts turn to frustrated growls. This can't be. Not like this. Her luck turned to shit. Her panic now tenfold. Sue is calm and steady, hushing her quiet. Her hands speedy over supplies, yet her lips murmur like a lullaby.
James is firing up the gas tank. The stove is his job. He boils the water. His sleeves up, his cheeks red with exertion. Then they go infrared when he spots Charlie wedging himself through the rocks.
"Fuck." His word for the day.
"Bella!" Charlie shouts. He's like a drunken man staggering into a bar to square out a fight; Reckless and aimless.
Bella hears him from inside the tent.
"Where is she?" he says. She waits for it; after a pause, it's inevitable. "What the hell is all this?" And there it is—his utter confusion at the surroundings.
The tent's fabric shakes when he flips it back. And damn if her dreaded cries don't turn to longing. She can't help it, she reaches for him, and father comes running.
Sue shouts orders. James listens intently. A woman in charge. He nods with a 'yes ma'am.' Sue likes that. Her smile warm in contrast with the chaos around her. This is cake, and Dad was right; this will go down as the best story in her book of deliveries.
"Okay now, we'll be pushing soon enough," she says, delving her hand under a quilt. The quilt is red with blood in places. Bella's milky, white legs peeking from under it. Sweat trickles down all their faces. The light of the lamp by the bed, wedged on books, is sufficient enough to brighten everything inside, just as they need it.
It's all perfectly laid out to accommodate an event like this in the most sacred of places—now occupied with life and the noise of screams, grunts, and pushing of a newborn baby. It's like Edward purposely left this space set for his offspring. It'll inherit the very place its father resided. New life in this old, worn bed. Thousands of words in pages of books beneath it, many describing this very moment, the wondrous feeling of life, love, and chaos.
Bella cries, regardless. She heaves and holds tightly to her father's hand, never thinking it would be this way. She wishes with all her might her other hand held Edward's, but her father is just right. This moment could not be as perfect. He kisses her hand and his encouragement pours out with love and whispers of pride her mother would say if she were here.
Jameson helps Sue when she asks. He's right at her elbow, beck, and call. Eyes wide, mind open, taking in, absorbing the lessons. And right then, as the baby crowns its head, he decides he'll do this for the rest of his life.
It's too early for Jameson to know yet that he'll deliver thousands of babies in his lifetime. Among them, Bella's second child; a girl. But this time, it's a boy. He rushes out into this world.
That boy cries and cries; mouth gaping, soft lips around gums, a little pink tongue. He tears through the clearing with his keening like he's giving away this secret place. A secret that isn't so secret anymore.
….