A/N: Edward's sister has now been changed to 'Jane'. There is now ONE Alice in this story, and that's the roommate with the Berkin. I've been writing this for years, it was an oops as it was overlooked. Happens. Let's move on! This one's for all those pushy ladies out there on my FB. You know who you are. lol xoxo
Chapter 52 - All the Woman Says
BPOV continues...
Bella steps out of the car, trembling. She fidgets. Jen stays in her spot in the car. Bella wishes she didn't. Coward.
"Uhh…"
"You know us …?" He asks.
"Yes … No. I mean, no. Sort of?"
"Which one?" He scrunches his eyes. He looks toward the car. "Bring the kid," he says, and then he walks away toward the gate between the lilacs.
Bella stammers and shuffles her feet where she stands. She reaches the door and suddenly doesn't know how it functions. Jen pops the lock, and Bella manages to open it.
"Yes, you're coming," Bella says as she bends into the car, her trembling hands reaching for Elliot's car seat.
Jen is already shaking her head vigorously.
"You and your big mouth telling people our business? You're coming," Bella says through her teeth.
Jen's shoulders visibly drop. She unbuckles her seatbelt.
They linger at the sidewalk, take a few hesitant steps to peek over at the open gate. Emmett steps out, making them jump slightly as he waves them in.
"Come. I ain't got all day," he mumbles.
They're in the yard now and looking around. So many pieces of equipment and used parts spilling into the yard to the right. Wooden, worn doors are open to reveal a garage beyond it, more things piled up and old cars. The rest of the yard is fantasy-like. If you turn your back to the mess, you can be submerged under a tree that droops leaves low. Bushes carved and trimmed nicely dollop the area with flowers in yellows and pinks and green. Lilacs surrounding the fences. It's enchanting.
Whitewashed steps lead up to a vast porch that wraps around to the left of the house. Bella has always loved wraparounds. She and Jen gawk a little.
Emmett is already pushing through the front door. He calls out through the house. "Ma!"
And Bella freezes as she looks at Jen.
They can't escape this now.
Pale, Bella stands under the porch with a curious Elliot whose eyes roam around. He's quiet as a mouse.
Suddenly, a girl pokes her head out the screen door in the oddest way, startling the girls. Bella covers her lips to keep from yelping.
The girl with wide, curious eyes that roam around too. A pin in her dark hair to keep it up by her ear. She steps out over the threshold in a fine, print flower dress. Black and white penny loafers on her feet. She fidgets exaggeratingly. Her hand twisting her index as she rocks her whole body slightly to the beat of no music. Maybe the breeze.
When the girls look closely, they realize she's not that young, after all. She's matured. No soft cheeks, but sharp shaped ones a woman would carry, perfect structure you'd find in magazines piled with layers of contour and makeup. But her skin is slightly blemished and dry. Sunken. Speckled. Thin. Needing sun to kiss and rejuvenate. She's in her late twenties.
"A baby?" She asks. Red frames her sharp, blue ocean eyes. She looks for the infant. She charges toward him on wobbling legs, but stops dead cold before she gets to him. Bella does an automatic flinch, where she stands in front of Elliot, pulling him behind her nervously.
"Oh," the strange woman says joyfully. Her hands knuckle white at her chest. "A baby!" She folds herself in a crouching ball to see him better. No sense of shame or sense at her unusual behavior. Her fingertips at her lips in awe. Elliot and her eyes locked in.
"Jane!" Emmett shouts. "Get in the house," he orders from inside. Jane jumps in place and scurries quickly at her brother's command.
Bella knows how she feels. He's intimidating.
Jane shyly hovers behind the screen door regardless. She widens the door and softly whispers, "You can come in, you know. He's a mean old man, but he's nice sometimes. He brings me candy on Sundays," she assures, nodding.
Bella and Jen exchange looks. Jen holding a soft smile for Jane. It's obvious. It's the demeanor one holds when there's a harmless soul with a disability in their presence. You exude calm and kindness.
"Thanks, Jane. That's nice of him." Jen takes a step into the house. Bella follows. The inside dark in contrast. Clean. Old worn furniture but everything neat and orderly. Walls crisp with new paint, but one wall. Painted in large flowers. Monet-esque. Detailed with loose strokes.
Jane spreads her arms wide at the wall. Her back to it. She smiles. "This is my wall," she proudly says. Jen and Bella are genuinely impressed.
"It's beautiful," Bella says. "Kind of amazing," she says through her teeth so that only Jen can hear. Jen is too busy gawking at it from ceiling to floor in awe. "They're all genius," Bella adds behind her hand.
"Holy shit," Jen whispers. Her eyes cut to Elliot in thought without a word.
Bella scoffs, in tune. "Right. He still has my genes mixed in." Jen pushes a laugh through her nose at the reality check.
Jane lights up and suddenly looks excited. "Momma, Momma, a baby! Look."
Bella and Jen turn to look behind them.
Sure enough, an older woman pushes through a door with soft eyes. Her hair pinned neatly at her nape, some strays. An apron around her waist. Her blouse so much from another era, yet it's pristine and silk. Delicate buttons at the elbows in powder blue and yellow florals all over. Her hair, Bella sighs, is the same as her son's, but speckled with silver in places. Her tired eyes lined, and lips tinted. She's as beautiful as Jane's painting, aged. But Bella notices; eyes as sad and worried as a mother would be, years of practice, reasons, secrets. She folds her hands at her front, her slim silver watch at her wrist.
"I see, Jane. The muffins are about ready, go check them," she says without looking away. Her eyes set on the young women standing in her foyer.
Jane visibly looks disappointed. She slouches comically and drags her feet through the door her mother came through.
Emmett watches from the threshold, leaning against it. He too, can't take his eyes away.
Bella can't speak. Not a word through her lips.
This was a mistake. This is too sensitive. This will tear them all apart. Why did she come? Her hands haven't stopped trembling. "I … uh..." she says. She feels her eyes burn.
"Let me see him," is all the woman says. Her tone hopeful, desperate, careful.
Bella glances at Elliot. She's taken.
Oh.
She slowly turns the seat to face her.
And there, those eyes that carry the weight of the world— of sadness and worry—they brighten. They morph to relief.
Bella thinks twice. She moves to unstrap him. Jen helps. They work together through this awkward silence. Bella holds him close when she straightens. Elliot wide awake and taking in his surroundings.
"I just…" Bella begins to speak. But stops.
The old woman is crying. Her silent tears spill. A few fingers dabs at her mouth as she crosses her chest with her arms. She walks away. Not a word as she trails past Bella and Jen and into the living room.
Bella is confused. Emmett lifts a hand and simply says, "You can follow." So they hesitantly do.
The space is set like it were still the fifties, and the mid-century modern furniture was built today. Dusted, neat, all in olive green fabrics over wood. The lady shuffles through a shelf, she finds a large book and opens it. The sound of glue unsticking takes up the silence.
Jen is freaking out inside, thinking about all the ways they could run. She'd definitely grab Elliot first. She grips Bella's arm to ready herself. They seem to hold on to one another, encompassing the boy just enough with shoulders to protect him.
The woman softly sniffles where she stands, her back to them. She finally turns, holding a photo. She pauses, then lets it go.
Bella takes it when it's offered.
The baby in the photo is the spitting image of Elliot. She looks down at it with Jen at her shoulder. They're speechless.
Bella's eyes water, the photo blurring up. She turns it to the back, and in a script of blue ink is written, Edward Anthony Cullen.
"Where is he?"
That is all the woman says.
….