BPOV
It was the week before Thanksgiving when my dad came into my room announcing that the doctors took Rosalie out of her medically induced coma.
She was now awake, but due to her jaw being wired shut she still couldn't give her statement to Detective Diaz.
"So it's a waiting game?" I asked my dad.
"It would appear so," he says with a sigh. "Rosalie is the key to his trial."
I want to rage at that, because after Detective Diaz's assembly at the school, five more girls came forward but it was only another accusation that ranged from years to months ago. Though he was sloppy and left DNA behind on mine and Alice's clothing, Rosalie was the only survivor that they were sure the charges would stick.
"Will this ever be over?"
"Unfortunately, the legal system is a process," Dad says sympathetically.
"Yeah, but doesn't this just allow him to build a case? Like all this time he can carefully craft his defense," I huff out in annoyance.
Dad kneels down in front of me, so we're now on eye level. "He will not get away with what he did, Bells. You need to trust Detective Diaz and her team. They know what they are doing, as well as the District Attorney's office in Seattle. They are on your side."
There are times that I think Charlie is privy to more information than he lets on and this is one of those times. He gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he stands.
"Esme tells me Edward's mom is coming in," he says, changing the subject.
My cheeks heat. I was going through recipe books and my New York Times cooking subscription trying to find something to make for Thanksgiving dinner. Esme extended an invitation to me and Charlie along with the Whitlocks.
I felt the need to try to impress Edward's mother, I didn't want her thinking I was some bright-eyed kid. He was with a woman before and I might have been creeping even more on her Insta than I'd like to admit.
I also got the feeling that Edward didn't give her account a second look because recently she had posted a few things with an older gentleman whose smile mirrored Edward's. He had blonde graying hair but the same angular jaw Edward had.
Maybe I had some kind of cop gene from Charlie, but I would go out on a limb to say this man popping up on Kate's social is Edward's father.
"She is," I confirm.
He nods, shaking his head at me with one last glance before he leaves my room.
My phone buzzes on the floor next to me, I pick it up seeing it's from Jazz.
Are you still researching recipes? – J
I am. Are you still hating? – B
Jazz's mom was bringing wine and he thought I was nuts for making anything. I wanted to make a good impression on Edward's mother. I didn't want her to question why her son was with me.
I wasn't hating, I just think it's a little overboard to make something when Esme goes all out. – J
I roll my eyes.
My phone suddenly lights up with Edward's smiling face, I slide to accept the call.
"Hey," I greet.
"What are you up to?" he asks.
"Trying to figure out if I should make a basic mac and cheese or butternut squash and green curry soup?" I say biting my lip.
"Bella, my mom can't cook to save her life, she's not going to expect you to either," he says with a snort.
"I want her to like me," I mumble.
"Between what she's gotten out of me and the rave reviews Esme has been giving you, I think you have absolutely nothing to worry about."
Him saying this changes nothing.
Liz Platt is bohemian in style, with her wild bronze curls styled in a wolf cut and drapey couture. I knew this because I Googled her. Her green eyes were as piercing as her son's. She and Esme could also pass as twins.
"What are you up to?" I ask him, trying to distract him.
"I just finished a hike with Emmett," he says.
"You're outdoorsy now?"
"Hardly." He laughs. "He's into bouldering and was trying to talk me into it. Apparently, there is a place where you can climb on the trail."
I know Edward likes to run. He's disclosed that he has run a few marathons in Chicago, but that is all I know about his athleticism.
"Did you ever participate in any sports or anything?"
"I was captain of the baseball team and ran cross country," he says distractedly.
"I feel like there is more," I say bluntly.
"Both teams were division champs," he mumbles.
I bite my tongue, because I have teased him on his looks and now he's a naturally gifted athlete. I wasn't going to call him Flawless like I had been doing the past few weeks. I wasn't.
"I know you want to comment," he says.
"Me? I've never had an opinion in my life."
"Yeah, okay," he says, and I just know he's rolling his eyes.
"I hear that Rosalie is awake," I tell him instead.
"Did Charlie tell you?"
"Yep, I think Mr. Hale wants me to visit her at some point," I sigh.
He is quiet for a minute, he knows I don't like being seen as her savior, which most of the town has painted me as. I felt uncomfortable with their perception of me.
On the victim timeline Detective Diaz disclosed, I was victim number six, it didn't start with me and it didn't end with me, but I was the one who shed light on what was going on. People had been saying I broke the cycle but had I?
I hated the pressure it put on me, surprisingly my grades were top-notch, but this made Charlie even more concerned for me. He was waiting for a meltdown.
"You want to come over tonight?" he asks.
"My dad wants me home," I tell him.
Charlie thinks we're canoodling, his words.
He wasn't wrong, we were canoodling in Edward's bed, shower, couch, and against the wall across from his bed several times.
"Am I allowed to come over?" he asks instead.
"Now he might be open to that," I giggle. "Are you going to act all chivalrous in front of mi padre?"
"Your dad loves me," he scoffs.
He does, but he doesn't need to know that just yet.
"Bring him some Rainier and a fish sandwich from the lodge and you might be asked to stay," I tease.
"You want a fish sandwich," he says knowingly.
I do.
"Okay, bring three fish sandwiches," I correct.
"I'll see you in an hour," he says before hanging up.
I sigh leaving my research behind to go seek out my dad to let him know of the dinner plans. Unsurprisingly, I find him sitting in his recliner.
"Give up the recipe hunt?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Nope," I laughed, lounging on the couch. "Edward is bringing us dinner from the lodge."
"You con him into fish sandwiches?"
"And beer for you," I add.
He shakes his head.
We spent our time waiting for Edward watching highlights from the Seahawks game last week. They play tomorrow and my dad likes to see if he can predict the outcome. I know he hopes his fantasy football team wins, he's invested. Billy Black doesn't let him live it down when he loses.
The knock on the door has my dad calling "it's open". Edward's head pops in but when he sees me on the couch his hesitation fades away.
"I come bearing Rainer and fish sandwiches," he says, holding both up for us to see.
"Bells, get the man some plates and glasses," Dad playfully orders.
I roll my eyes, grab the front of Edward's shirt and drag him into the kitchen. Once we're in the kitchen he holds what he brought close to him.
He takes a step closer to me and leans in kissing the tip of my nose.
"You're welcome," he says, before pressing his lips to mine.
I pull back with a smile. "Thanks."
"Where are your plates?"
I point to the cabinet over my shoulder, he sets the food and beer down to grab three plates behind me.
"You don't have to do that, I can get everything ready," I tell him.
"I'm a big boy, I can plate food and pour beer," he says with a smile and another kiss.
"If you're sure," I say, holding my hands up. "I'll be in the living room."
Edward made a show of bringing my plate into me first and then he went back to carry in his and Charlie's food and beer.
"Have you ever worked in a restaurant, kid?"
"In high school and college," he says with a shy smile.
Huh, that was something I didn't know.
"Bella has worked in food service, she worked down at the Frosty Shack for the past three summers," Dad says before taking a bite of his sandwich.
That was something I didn't want him to know.
"Did you have a uniform?" Edward asks teasingly.
"Maybe, did you?"
"White button-down and black slacks."
"Then no, I didn't have a uniform," I say.
Charlie bursts out laughing.
Edward is smart, sucking up to my dad. I can tell that my dad likes him and is warming up to the idea of him.
Our landline starts to ring and my dad gets up to answer it in the kitchen.
"Your dad loves me," Edward sings from the opposite side of the couch.
"Yeah, yeah," I tell him.
Charlie walks back into the room watching me warily.
"What?" I ask.
"Rosalie is asking for you," he says carefully.