A/N: Happy long weekend if you're in the states. Otherwise, hap fri. But really, I love you for your reactions. Got lazy (or crazy) this week, but here's the next one. Wish them luck.
Chapter 61 - Small Packages
The tiles from the shower are really just a blank slate. The slate is all the scenarios, all the what if's… and all the memories of that night in that tent. Bella's eyes dry up, blink less. She's been standing in the shower for fifteen minutes now. It's coming. The sobs. It doesn't fail—the droplets of water mix with the tears.
Bella smothers her mouth and leans on the wall. Edward came back to her.
She hasn't told anyone yet.
Not Charlie, not Sue, not Jameson. Not even Jen. She's kept this all for herself for days now. She wants to savor it all. Like a secret she gets to keep for Elliot, Edward, and herself. Just the three of them.
The three.
Bella breaks down just like he did at the kitchen table. It's her turn.
She lets the stream wash her tears away, but not her joy.
She rushes to grab the towel, her hair dripping. This time she took way longer in there. No mother could possibly shower for longer than two minutes alone with a two-year-old in the house. She slips out of her room, clutching the towel around her to check on him. It's early. She hasn't been sleeping. How could she when a wish came true?
The hallway, the living room, the wooden floors are dark and quiet as she peeks into his room. Elliot is sideways on his speed car bed. She rolls her eyes. He's a whirlwind while sleeping.
Then she turns to go back to her room and almost screams.
Her stomach dropping to her toes.
There he is. Standing outside the doors leading to the patio. A tall, dark figure.
He's arrived early, the morning sun barely rising around him. He patiently stands there quietly, hands in his pockets, back turned. He's looking at every angle of the cabin, every window, every door, every blade of grass, or the logs that make the exterior walls.
She's so transfixed she stands there watching him, tall, strong shoulders, and handsome as she can remember. He begins to turn; Bella panics. Oh. Naked. She runs like mad to hide. She cringes and laughs at herself, but her heart is hammering, and her cheeks go red.
For the next ten minutes, Bella dresses nervously. She slips on a dress, a thick sweater over her shoulders. She's so, so desperate to meet him, but Elliot beat her to it. She turns an ear toward her bedroom door. Elliot is louder than any creature around these woods. They could manage alone for a minute. She grabs the lotion and smoothes her legs out, then arms. Maybe a bit around her chest and neck. She wrings her hands as she stares at her makeup bag from her vanity. Maybe a bit to hydrate her dark eyes from days of no sleep.
He left, but now he's back. It's been days. He stayed that Saturday. He never moved from that kitchen table as he watched Elliot play in the living room, just a few feet away. The open plan has common areas visible from any part of this room. It's what Bella wanted. Sam, Charlie, and Sue helped her pick out this place; Charlie upset that she'd be so far away from the city. That Elliot would be far away also. But she insisted. This is exactly what she anticipated.
The arrival.
She dabs a bit of perfume over her wrists and under her ears. Okay, that's enough. She feels ridiculous. As if this man ever noticed those details.
But she can't help herself. It's like the morning after Christmas. You have something tangible. It's special. You've acquired it, or you created it. A song you wrote, a painting. Anything. You're just so eager to meet with it again after a long night of sleep.
She rounds the corner of the hallway and takes a peek.
Elliot woke while she was back in her room dressing. He was the loud host who opened the door and welcomed him right in.
She will have a word with that little one for opening doors without permission. So many reprimands, so many lectures; Elliot chooses to listen to what he likes. This enrages her to no end.
Well, it's too late, Edward is in. She spots him from her hiding place behind the wall. Edward is awkward in his skin. Elliot pulls his hand, and pulls some more, until Edward has no choice but to sit. A tight smirk on his lips. But only terror shows … his utter, numbing terror.
Bella bites her lip not to chuckle aloud.
She shows herself. And that's when his terror turns to … something else. Nerves? No. A deer caught in headlights. Bella marches straight to the kitchen and preps the coffee pot. Elliot makes enough noise for the three of them; she doesn't have to say a word, neither does Edward. But when she does look over her shoulder, he's watching her.
God, the lead in her stomach. She takes a good hefty breath and continues to work on two mugs, then heads toward him.
"Hello," Edward says as he takes the hot mug. It's immediate. Bella holds hers from touching her lips as she marvels, surprised.
Hello. His first word to her. This time he looked up at her eyes so boldly.
Her knees grow a bit weaker than they already are. She sits close by. "Morning."
They both take a sip.
She remembers, lifting a finger. "I actually don't remember how you take it," she says apologetically about his coffee.
"It's fine," he mentions with a quick glance. He lets the heat trickle down his throat. She doesn't know it's his first cup in a long while. Anything is delicious.
He glances at her for a second before looking away.
Her scent is delicious.
Edward guesses he's been out in the woods too long. Scents like Bellas don't come around at all. And definitely not on a farm. He takes in a hefty breath.
They silently watch Elliot in his pajamas and unruly hair, currently banging two trucks together, miniature pedestrians lag around, dropping on their backs like flies with the ruckus.
All Edward sees is skin. Soft skin beneath him. Oh, he remembers all right. These past few days away were like Polaroids slowly fading up imagery. Stocked away in his mind, slowly emerging to the very back of his eyes. Nerve endings shooting through his limbs. Her lips. Her closed lids. The sounds she made right under him.
This total and devastating greed inside him as he erupted and finally accepted her arms around him. Bella was right. He did a lot more than that.
He looks over from the corner of his eye at her, all of her. His eyes roam to her bare legs again. Toes visible in sandals suspended in the air where she crossed her legs, about to slip off a delicate foot. That skin running up and over her legs under that dress.
Oh, he remembers, and then he's paralyzed. Maybe he shouldn't have come back.
"It's been days," Bella speaks up. "I thought I scared you away."
He blinks up at her face, caught looking. He reddens, shifts in his seat.
His head shakes slightly. No. Maybe. He doesn't know yet. The other day here was a lot. Him finding out about … life in this cabin, practically waiting for him. He wants to ask.
"It was daunting." He manages. He's blunt. Never one to be hesitant with thoughts like this. Bella grins sadly. "You stayed," he adds.
She nods. "I couldn't find myself to leave the camp." She did it for him. He knows this. It overwhelms him.
"You didn't have to. You have a home, another purple room elsewhere, perhaps. A life. A family. College." He suggests. He remembers her words before she left.
"No," she simply says with a shrug. "I didn't. I had a baby, a blank slate, and … a lot of hope."
"You have it all." He looks at her. Her cold blue lips he breathed life into. He remembers that … her reason for jumping. The audacity of her actions.
"Had," she corrects. "It didn't mean anything the moment I found out I was going to have Elliot."
He doesn't understand. Why would she give it all up? It's outrageous. He looks at her this time, his head shaking like he's angry she did this.
"It's not far from what you did, leaving your family," She says to his silent question. His attitude seems to deflate, so do his shoulders with their tension. "And how else would I have found you?"
This was all for him?
"No." He says straight. "That's foolish. I'm not nearly enough compensation for what you lost. I'm …"
"The father of my child." She interrupts. "It's what people, some people, do for family," she says to make a point.
His líps seal shut. He rests elbows on his knees as he balances the mug in his hands.
She laughs a little, breaking the silence. "Don't be so egocentric." She rolls her eyes teasing. "Though you're worth every reason, it wasn't a decision made entirely for you. It was for Elliot. It was for me. It was for the reservation. We have a life here. This is my home I bought with my own money. Sue has been a fantastic mentor. I help people here. I have plans to help more."
People like Edward, to be exact. Bella is in her second year of university on a full scholarship, where she'll soon become a licensed psychologist toward her path to becoming a researcher focused on mental health. She's already had honors and continues to impress scholars on her contribution to the reservation. Her internship in Boston, winning out over thousands of applicants, provided a central city apartment she gets to stay in with Elliot to help in research labs at the general hospital. All this is because of her thesis on a specified human behavior; the kind this handsome man across from her, watching her so intently, placing those butterflies in her stomach, naturally lives by.
"I've been doing okay for myself." She underwhelms with a smile.
She stands to make breakfast. Today she'll take the day off. She's already given everyone affected by her absence a call. She saw he came back; she wants this time with him.
As eggs and bacon with toast make it onto plates and on one small plate with Star-lord printed on it, Edward is speechless. Elliot is the one to take his hand yet again and pull him to the kitchen table this time.
They eat. Or, Elliot does. The adults are in a silent quarrel with themselves, it seems.
"Where did you go?" Bella opens that portal back up. "Did you find … what you were looking for?"
He thinks quietly. It almost seems like he won't answer at times. But it's him, just taking his time forming the right words. Concise and to the point, then he fires. "I thought I did," he says. It's the truth. He would've stayed on that farm.
"Oh?" she encourages. She waits.
"I didn't find much but trees. A desert but with greens."
She notices his face change with that. Oh. It didn't go well.
"Did you have enough to live off of?"
He watches Elliot take a bite of buttery toast. He munches on it quickly to get another bite, mouth still full. A race. A desperate one because it just tastes so good.
Well, that was him. He felt that way about finding food and taking a bite of house after house. Desperate.
"Not quite." He sips from his mug.
Bella's stomach drops. It didn't go well at all. Terrible, even.
"What did you do? I mean, you look … you're healthy. You're strong. You look well." Gorgeous. Clean. Lithe. At his prime. Sun-kissed skin. His hair pushed back neatly, but layers of dark and light strands were exposed by the sun and elements, tousled in places. His glasses are pinned to a button of his clean shirt. Bella swallows thickly. Her eyes trip over all the details. "You must've figured it out."
"Not without a price," he says cryptically.
Bella is dying here, anxious for the full picture. "Tell me everything? Please. I've worried sick for so long. I've dreamt about the worst. I dreamt of you lifeless on the ground somewhere. Where were you, Edward?"
He looks at her. Her brows crinkle slightly as she examines. Her genuine worry. He's never needed someone's worry, yet, she's giving it freely. Well, he'll accept.
"At first, I wasn't sure." He relents. "But then I did … things to make these hikers … comfortable. I had no choice. I couldn't shake them off. I lost my things in Canada. I almost lost my life there too, but I guess that's nothing new. They're probably still under custody, and I thankfully dodged that. Quite literally."
"How badly hurt?" Her heart in her throat.
He shrugs enough. "Woke up in a hospital, but I was able to get away,"
Bella is speechless. She dares not speak.
His brows furrow like he's remembering everything.
"Nova Scotia," he simply says like he just remembered. "That's where I ended up."
She nods dumbfounded. "So … what was in Nova Scotia?"
He tilts his head slightly like it escaped his grasp, something he wanted, and it's just too bad. "A promising life. Or so I thought."
"Okay." Bella's insides curl a bit. He found someplace new. "Do you … miss it?"
He frowns a bit at the corner of his mouth. "I grew to like it, the farm …"
A farm. Bella takes a mental note.
"The owner was generous, so were the meals as payment for labor. I guess if that's the way to describe it, yes, I do miss it."
"What did you do there?" Were you happy? That's what she really wants to ask. So many things, but they're interrupted.
Elliot is done eating. Surprisingly quiet through breakfast as he maneuvered a tablet with small fingers, his attention fully rapt to notice anything else around him. But he does remember the fruit gummies in the drawer by the fridge. He takes a pouch to Edward after fetching it. He reaches up for him to take.
Edward hesitantly takes it and watches the boy scramble back up in his chair. He adjusts himself, and he waits. The boy needs help opening his snack.
Bella covers her mouth with a palm, her elbow resting on the table as she takes it all in, not daring to interfere.
Edward slits the package open, and Elliot instantly opens his mouth, turned toward his father. His eyes averted, though; the tablet has colorful animated cartoons.
Edward reaches over and suspends a piece by those pink lips.
Elliot pulls the big piece off Edward's fingers with his little teeth. He commences to poke the other half of the gummy in until all of it is in his mouth. He chews big.
Bella tries not to laugh loud at Edward's panicked expression. Too big for such a small mouth is what Edward thinks. Bella knows he won't choke. The kid can maneuver candy like a pro.
"Uh … I fed goats," Edward continues saying. "Harvested Lavender every season, kept the equipment running. Ran errands for the boss." He answers her question, but his eyes are glued to the gnawing kid. He feeds him another. Fascinated.
"He likes these," he says to Bella as he digs for another in the small package.
She nods, smiling. Her eyes blurring. She quickly busies herself, picking up dishes, also to frantically clear stray tears off her cheeks.
"Ran errands, huh?" She asks, trying to sound nonchalant. But her expertise tells her that was a milestone. Edward shopping at a store, Edward picking up a shipment for a farm. All of it involving people around him. Unfathomable. "How was that like?" she adds.
He hesitates to answer. "I endured it."
Bella smiles down at her dishes. She doesn't think he realizes the accomplishment; like an addict refusing a drink or a smoke. A maim learning to walk again. He stumbled upon the circumstances, and he simply accomplished them.
There is hope for this man. Her heart could burst so loudly, but only the soap bubbles silently do around her hands.
"What will you do now?" She pushes. She wants to make him think.
Edward hasn't thought about it. He's never the type to. Edward goes where the wind takes him.
But now, as he watches this boy and his now, red-stained líps, living, existing, ripping the chewy heads off these gummy bears first—inarguably the best part—he does think about it.
What will he do? He's discovered so much in this cabin. And it all came in small packages.
….