A/N: Hello again. Oh, it's been a while. Why did I stop? Well, life, but also you wanted to hear from Edward. I also wanted to hear from him. So i waited for him to contact me from wherever he ran to. It took a while. He's a bird, a traveler, and he doesn't know a thing about WiFi or texting. I finally did get the full story down on paper. So, here it is. My goal is for this to be mostly posted before the quarantine ends. But we'll see. There are like 20 chaps or more.

Read back a bit so you'll get into it, but this is the continuation of Bella's ordeal and everybody helping ... or not helping. The timelines of BPOV and EPOV might not be parallel, but it's their experience in two separate worlds. Just focus on their development. Cool?

So, sit back, sit tight, and review your heart away so Edward knows you've been asking about him.

I love you for coming back.

Special thanks to Beta Fran for reading the full chunk of whats left to this fic in one sitting, and making me speechless with her words and reactions. Also to Patrizia for pre-reading and giving me the gut checks of where this should be going. They both carved out from their crazy schedules during this ... scary time to emotionally give this time. I hope it gives you a bit of relief. I needed it also.

Prayers to all the folks out there who really need it. And permission to allow entertainment like this to keep us all sane while we keep healthy, too.

Chapter 41 - Packed In One Delivery

Jen and Lauren are having drinks. On a night like this, they need the alcohol desperately. Working shifts, the day had dragged on.

Lauren has a boyfriend now. It's fine, but it irks Jen a bit. This klutz, time and again, gets a break with the opposite sex, yet Jen is still perfect, healthy, bitter, and a normal single. What does a girl gotta do these days? Apps don't help. Clubs definitely don't. And school is full of partying idiots.

She's working internships, but she's not even sure she wants to do office work. Does she? What she really wants to do is become an editor or write. Maybe she'd make millions with her sad life in words on paper, crisp spines in serif letters in bold, pastel, trendy colors. She could do that.

Maybe she can tell how her story has changed. Or so she feels it at the brink. It happened yesterday. She watches Lauren, and she can't come out with it. She can't tell her that a guy they both were enamored with has walked back into her life like the climax of a rom com, except it was only ridiculously hilarious to her in a sad way. Or was it a happy way?

No, she can't tell Lauren. She won't.

But she does wonder if she'll write the story, and someday Lauren will read it and see just how much this asshole always meant to her.

The story would be about the one that got away. That 'one' being Riley. He left for years. They both haven't heard from him. Jen thought last night, when Riley ran into her at the restaurant, that it was serendipitous. It was the last place they had seen one another. He looked different, older, worn at the edges, but his eyes … those bright eyes bore right into her.

Why would fate joke with her this way?

Well, she didn't expect the run-in, not even that tug she felt at her elbow as she walked away, and how it would stir this fire. He said words that clung to her; how he came back for her. He couldn't stop thinking about her. She was a piece of him.

He said those things.

The surprise came slowly, so did the kiss after that.

No, Lauren wouldn't want to know the story of a couple who found one another … and had the most amazing night together that it sealed all the doubt and bitterness Jen feels about what transpired between them. But how to explain the feeling of their coupling and show Lauren how much it meant to her?

Yes, she thinks she would have to break it to her through a book.

Lauren sighs after a rant about a fight with her beau. "And he just throws a fit when he sees the scratch on the car as if it was my fault that car was in the way when I was changing lanes, you know?"

Jen nods. Her body sore from the many ways Riley touched her.

Again, and again.

Lauren looks up over Jen's shoulder, her eyes recognizing someone. Jen's heart runs fast. She looks over.

"Hey, Bella's roommate!" Lauren says, cheerfully. "Anna, right?"

Alice stares at the girl. Her pencil skirt sharp over tall stilettos, she's just off work in a Burberry trench coat, because that's how Alice rolls. "No." Is her response.

Lauren's face falls. "Oh."

Jen smiles warmly, taking a relieved breath once she sees who's really over her shoulder. "Hey, Alice. How's it going?"

Alice rolls her eyes a bit. "Oh, you know, life."

"Yup." Jen grins. "No kidding."

Alice lingers a few feet from the table. She guesses she must small talk. Horrid. "So, yes. How are you … and Bella, I guess? Has she had the hermit baby yet?"

The girls furrow their brows. Jen answers. "I mean, I think? We haven't heard from her in a bit."

Alice lifts a hand and lets it fall over her caramel Birkin hanging from her wrist. Let's see, what else should she ask? What else do people jabber about when running into mutual friends?

"Um, hermit?" interjects Jen. She laughs slightly. Lauren is looking from Alice to her friend. "Does that mean something? Roommate code? Inside joke?"

Alice blinks, then shrugs. "I don't know. Isn't that who the father is instead of 'Jack-off-James'? Some homeless guy who lives in the woods in Maine?"

Jen stares. "Uh, no. I mean, yes, there's a thief at the campsite. Mom But Jameson is, and—wait, how do you know—?"

Alice stares for a beat. "Oh, I guess she wasn't sharing that," she almost says to herself. She shakes it off, rolling her eyes. "Look, I'm running late. I gotta go. Nice seeing you two; this was … great." She forces a tight smile, then does the unthinkable, and gives them a thumbs up.

Jen watches the Wall Street doll walk away.

What the fuck?

Lauren turns to Jen. "Hermit? Why would she say that?"

Jen shrugs and takes a heaping sip of her drink, her eyes glazing over in thought. Instantly, the taste of apple brandy in her glass reminds her of her candle, which in turn reminds her of said candle at her bedside table, which pours in all the memories in snapshots of Riley over her, her legs in the air as she let out all the porn star sounds. The candle did move and then fell … with the vibrations.

She almost smacks her eyes shut to wipe the image off her forehead.

Lauren tilts her head, watching the expressions morph over Jen's face. She shakes her head and grabs her drink but doesn't ask. Both just linger in this silence, in limbo, like Alice's spill is still registering. It will sink in. It takes a moment.

Jen lets her drink drop back on the table with a thunk. She looks at Lauren. "Why would a person like Alice know so much details about the North Pond Hermit?"

Lauren shrugs, giving up. "Who the hell knows?"

"She wouldn't lie about something like that, would she? I mean, what's it to her? That's so beneath her."

"She is pretty fancy. Did you see her purse? God, I'd love to gnaw off the strap right from her delicate stupid wrist and make a run for it. Or gnaw off her wrist? I mean, I'd ruin the strap." She rests her hand under her chin.

"No, I mean. Think about it. They're roommates. They could've talked about … things."

Lauren scoffs slightly. "Well, technically they're not roommates, Bella left to stay at the cabin. I would know, I tried snagging her room, but Alice denied my request. I wonder why she even rents the room anyway. She's loaded, right?"

Bella left to go to the cabin. Right. With that reminder, Jen looks across the bar where Alice sits with a man. They instantly connect eyes. Alice sips on a Martini and looks away from Lauren quickly. And in that look, Jen sees a pinch of regret.

Jen gasps. "Oh, my God!"

The bar around them is loud, but in that instance, everyone glances over at Jen, even Alice, this time with a smidge of pink in her cheeks.

….

"What. The. Fuck."

Bella looks at everyone then back at Jen. She's sitting in the living room. Elliot E. A. Swan moves in her arms. He reaches his lips for milk he knows is close to Bella's chest. Blankets surround them, all the little trinkets of tiny baby bottles and spit-up bibs sit on the coffee table.

"Language!" Charlie says from the kitchen. "There's a baby in the house, for Christ's sake."

Jen takes a step back after barging through the cabin. She drove here this morning in a rush. Lauren tagged along after Jen tediously explained her outburst at the bar.

Jen's cheeks color. "Oh, sorry, Charlie."

"And it's still Mr. Swan."

Jen smiles, still fancying the stache on that handsome man her friend calls Dad.

Charlie walks out with a mug in his hand. He pushes the back porch door and disappears. Jen follows him out with her eyes.

"Uh, okay," says Bella, getting her attention back. She watched her friends come in. She was happy to see them. Now, not so much.

Jameson happens to be sitting there, textbooks around him on the coffee table. He's come over every morning since the tent birth to watch as Elliot breathes and eats, and even poops. It's all so fascinating to him suddenly. Like a switch turned on. He's interested in these little cooing, breathing creatures. Plus, Sue comes, too. She's kept her visits to check on the baby, and he asks her hundreds of questions.

Sue's a mentor now? Well, she likes that, too.

But no one really knows she just comes now to check on the … atmosphere. This is just too good. The story, the circumstance, and the young mother … without a mother around anymore to teach her things about the new processes of caring for a small human.

Well, Sue knows she's kidding herself. She also comes to check out Charlie.

Check on Charlie.

Yes.

On.

Not out.

She's had never actually met him in person, but had heard of the Swan family through Sam. Now she's met Charlie and in the most precarious of situations. He's been an angry mess and still a storm of emotion in this midst. Honestly, he needs some adult supervision. Or so she says to herself.

Sue has been a bit flustered for days now. It's so not like her.

She pops out of the kitchen with a tray of cocoa for everyone. She's … also making soup. Sue is making soup. No, this is normal for her. Completely normal. She has plenty of time on her hands besides being a doctor, a midwife, and founder of her charity work for the reservation. Plenty of time.

She cringes inside. She smiles and places the tray on the coffee table.

Jen waits for her to leave the room. She turns her eyes to Jameson, then Bella. "You cheap, sneaking liars."

Bella is already red, eyes wide, and feeling faint.

"You two shits think you can lie to us about something so fucking monumental?"

"Jen," Bella warns, once she gets where she's going. Jen's next words get caught in her throat with Bella's look. She straightens from leaning on the back of a chair and looks over at the porch.

Oh. Charlie doesn't know.

Lauren waits for the punchline. It never comes. She glances at Jen, who's stopped talking. So she figures she should just go for it.

"The baby's father is the North Pond Hermit, not Jameson?"

Fuck. There it is. It's out in the open. Every word packed in one delivery. Typical, clueless Lauren to the rescue. Jen turns to her, panicked.

Everything goes silent.

The baby fusses loudly, like he's confirming the question himself.

The porch swings open with force. "What?"

Sue rushes out of the kitchen. "Charlie," she chimes in soothingly as she quickly goes to him.

Just then, Sam walks in, too. The porch door being open already. He looks around, confused.

"Who's Elliot's father?" Charlie is loud.

Sam's face pales. "Charlie, calm down."

Charlie turns around to face Sam. "Calm down?" He takes a step. "The last time you told me to calm down, I ran into a fucking tent to watch my grandson being born!"

Sam grimaces.

"So, who's tent was it? No one even mentioned the obvious," he yells. "Everyone seemed to find it just fine!" He rushes to say, waving his arms.

"We hike out of there by paramedics who had to be led there with their equipment by GPS," Charlie continues. "Everyone seemed to have completely ignored the fact that there's a fucking apartment complex, no roof, in the middle of the fucking woods!

"And then you all take my daughter, my grandson..." He jabs at his chest. "Rush right out of there without so much as a single explanation ..." he sneers through his teeth, pinching his index and thumb shakily. He rubs his head, down to his face.

His arms splay wide. "Still, no answers?" He waits.

Utter silence.

Sam clears his throat. "The father is a young, simple man who lives in the woods. Correct, that was his living space, has been for years, impressively hidden. And yes, he has a bad reputation through these campsites, people know of him. It's really quite unfortunate if you asked me.

"You've seen him before on a hike, you asked about him years ago. You were both … curious," he says, referring to him and Bella. "He's not a complete mystery to you. Never was, actually.

"He's just a young man with tremendous self-preservation, all for the discipline of a unique lifestyle. He's … harmless." Sam pauses to gage Charlie. "Are those the answers you are looking for?"

Charlie is all blank, wide eyes.

Sam shrugs. "It's simple, really. Everything else is self-explanatory, I think." He glances at Bella, who's frozen in place. He sucks his teeth, looking back at Charlie. "Kids these days, right?" He chuckles slightly, scratching his neck.

Reasons what moved Sam to be the narrator of this story will forever be a mystery, even to him.

Regardless, everyone is grateful.

Charlie's pointed finger trembles vigorously toward his old friend. "So, you knew?" he asks. He looks around, then at Sue. She looks away and takes a step back. "Everyone knows that my grandson's father is the fucking, North Pond thieving hermit, but me?!" he bellows.

Jameson stands. "Sir."

Charlie turns to him with a blazing stare. "Boy, I wouldn't dare…" he warns with a shake of his head.

"Dad, please. Let me explain." Bella's trembling voice finally chimes in pleadingly. She tries to shuffle to her feet, but Elliot begins to cry like his mother wants to so badly.

Charlie raises a hand toward his daughter, his eyes tightly shut.

He turns in circles, then aims right for the door and into his car.

…