Chapter 6: Distance
Beau's statement was met with silence. Archie was frowning, his eyes half-glazed over as he shifted through the future, trying to figure out what effect this proposal would have. Earnest looked concerned, bothered by the idea of taking Edythe away from the family for any length of time. Carine, however, was silent, her mind going mile a minute as she contemplated. Before any of them could comment, Beau continued.
"She's having a hard time, and that might not go away for a while, not until she can get a handle on this change. She's confused, embarrassed; she's unsure on how to function at the moment. She hasn't been human in over a century; she's trying to get bearings, and that includes her reactions to all of you. Under her fearful reactions, she understands that her responses are unwarranted, that you are her family. And a part of her hates herself for reacting the way she does and hurting you. But she is more at ease when she knows you are not there, because she does not want to have to deal with conflicting emotions."
"Her actions are not completely unwarranted, though," Carine said. She sat down on the couch besides Earnest, folding her hands with his. Beau himself nodded before continuing.
"She doesn't want you to see her struggle. Not that any of you could blame her for it, but she has her pride damaged when she can't do something immediately, and knowing you listening or watching her stresses her out more, even if you don't mean it. I believe she needs distance to learn how to be human first, through simply living regular day-to-day life, and that will allow her to cope and overcome these reactions to you. But right now, it's too overwhelming for her. And I also believe it will do you all some good as well.
"I know it isn't easy for you all, having me around. Even when I'm not actually present, my scent still lingers in the house. You kept up with it for Edythe's sake and her happiness, but it will not make either of us happy if we are causing you discomfort and turmoil in your own home, a place, Edythe has told me, where you can be yourselves, away from the human world and humans in general. I think it is best for Edythe and I to go to my house for a while, to allow her to figure things out and get a good grip on her change before we go any further. I am not asking because I want her to myself, but I feel this may be the only way to help her heal for the moment."
Beau finished his explanation without interruption, wanting to display his mindset before the others argued with him. Earnest was the first to speak; Archie was still only half in the present, while Carine was staring off at something unseeing, as if turning everything over in her mind. Jessamine and Eleanor stayed quiet, watching the conversation play out.
"We did not merely tolerate you for Edythe's sake, Beau," Earnest said. "You are a part of the family as much as Edythe is. And I don't want part of our family taken away from us." Beau nodded.
"I understand, but none of us can really move forward and cope with the new changes until Edythe does, and I believe here is not the best place for her to do it. I don't want to overbear her with so many stresses and emotions at once and have her overload herself because she is feeling guilty and scared and embarrassed and so many other things simultaneously. Neither I or the rest of you believe she should feel that way, but she will. That's just the kind of person she is."
Carine was nodding ever so slightly, and Beau turned his attention to her. The matriarch of the family met his eyes, the light blue irises filled with nothing but concern for his mate. She let out a long sigh, though she did not need air.
"I agree. After this incident, I believe it is best for us all to get some distance; allow her to get a better grip on her humanity, and us to figure out what to do in the long term. There are many aspects of this situation that have not been addressed…" She trailed off, multiple scenarios going through her mind as she said that. She squeezed Earnest's hand.
"But I don't believe it's in her best interest to be at home, at least for the moment, when this is all so new for her. As you said, she became very overwhelmed, though she was able to make a small amount of progress with me. With one small step forward came multiple steps back. I can tell her rational side is still present, and she recognizes us as the family she knows and loves. But her instincts are too great right now and, combined with the struggle to adapt to a human life, it is too much to expect of her. And it is unfair to push her that way for our own desire to keep her with us."
Carine's declaration rang with authority, but also with emotion. She was the head of the family, and ultimately made the decision, but she did not do so with an iron fist; she carefully weighed all the options and chose the decision that was best, for both her eldest daughter and her future with the family.
Earnest's eyes turned downcast; though he understood his wife's words and would abide by her and Beau's wishes, there was still a small part of him that ached for Edythe to stay; selfishly, he wanted to hold her and comfort her, especially after seeing her so vulnerable. But he knew it was not what Edythe wanted or needed at the moment.
Carine turned to Archie. "What is the best way we can go about convincing Beau's father?" she asked, her voice intense. Archie pulled himself out of his visions to answer.
"I see something related to a preconceived legal battle; make something up that would leave Edythe alone and defenseless," he replied. Carine's eyes shifted to Beau, who nodded in understanding. "He will be unsure in the beginning, but he'll agree."
"How long?" Earnest's question was slightly forced, already bothered by the impending separation.
"Not very long; a few days, to start with. If she needs more than that, we can deal with it then. But I'm hoping the distance will be enough for her to get her bearings. We will play it by ear," Carine replied. Earnest nodded, slightly appeased by a relatively short span of time.
"You should call Charlie now," Archie added. "You might want to hurry, though; she's getting out of the bath now and will be very anxious if she finds you gone." Beau nodded and turned for the stairs. As he climbed, he pulled the brand new cell phone from his back pocket; Edythe had gifted it to him a couple of months ago as a way to communicate. He had argued it at the time, but in the moment found himself relieved for the tool. A story was already forming in his mind; he just hoped Charlie would swallow it. He had never been good at lying, but he had no choice.
Beau retreated to the balcony that accompanied Edythe's room, a semi-private place that would allow him to speak to Charlie without Edythe hearing clearly, but also in the same vicinity so Edythe would be able to see him once she left the bathroom. She was out of the bath but was taking her time to get ready. Beau took advantage of that to call Charlie at the station, where he would be since returning from his fishing trip that morning.
"Chief of Police," his father's brusk voice answered the line, hard and formal.
"Hey, Dad, it's me."
"Beau? What's wrong? Are you okay?" His father knew Beau never called him at work unless it was serious.
"I'm fine," he said. "I have to ask you something." Beau sighed heavily, not entirely sure how to explain this to him. He leaned against the railing, combing his hand through his thick hair self-consciously, despite the fact that Charlie couldn't see it.
"Would it be all right for Edythe to come stay with us for a few days?" he asked, the words coming out quickly.
"Why?" Charlie asked, confused but also a little averse. "What's wrong?" Beau ignored the latter tone in his father's voice, trying not to color his words in his attempt to convince him.
"Well, her family is out of town, as you know, and they will extending their stay. Archie is going to join them, but Edythe will be alone," he began. Charlie waited for him to continue, and Beau could feel the confusion even through the phone.
"You know Edythe was adopted, right?" he asked.
"Carine adopted her when she was very young, didn't she?"
"Yes. Well, when her biological parents died, Edythe was taken in by Carine. However, there is a distant relative that has been interceding, trying to take over custody of her. I don't know the full details, but it's gotten bad, to the point where Edythe isn't allowed to be present while Carine and Earnest deal with the matter in court. She and her family have been threatened, and there's been more than one close call." The fabricated story flew from his lips easier than he expected, his desire to protect Edythe overpowering his usual inability to lie. Charlie could hear the intensity in his son's voice, the fear for Edythe coloring his words, and immediately softened.
"Is she all right?" he asked, taking on a gentler tone.
"No, she's not," Beau answered then pushed to explain. "For lack of a better word, she's traumatized. She was so distraught, she locked herself in her room and buried everything inside. She's having a hard time and she can't seem to get through it. She's been sick, having nightmares all weekend."
"So you've been with her all weekend?" Charlie's words were slightly disapproving at the lie his son had made about being with Archie, but not as mad as Beau expected, probably cut by the sad situation.
"Yes. I couldn't just sit there when I knew she was hurting, Dad. If she needed me, then I needed to be there for her," Beau replied. Charlie took a small pause at the statement; the tenor and forcefulness of his son's voice made him feel slightly taken aback.
Charlie had never seen Beau this connected to anything or anyone before. Beau had never taken an interest in girls that Charlie knew of before he came to Forks. He kept to himself, rarely interacting with anyone, let alone enough to start dating anyone. But Edythe was different, as was the entire Cullen family. Beau had taken to all of them easily, and they had done the same for him, Carine and Earnest treating him like a third son, while their children loved his company and thought of him as another brother. Beau was very close to Edythe, maybe even loved her, Charlie thought.
Though he would have scoffed at a couple of young teenagers being in love to any real degree, looking back on their last few months, he could see it, he admitted to himself. Edythe never left his side when Beau was in the hospital in Phoenix, never left him as he was recovering and in a cast and needed constant assistance. The way she looked at Beau, and the way Beau looked at her! Charlie would lying to himself if he didn't at least bring up the possibility. Beau's protective edge in his voice as he spoke now only reinvigorated that option.
"Carine is asking for Edythe to stay with us while they settle the matter; she does not want her to be alone in the house, not after last time," Beau deliberately left that part hanging, given Charlie ample ability to imagine what exactly had occurred during the 'last time'.
"And she knows she'll be comfortable with me, and it comforts Carine and Earnest to have it being your house." This was another nail in the metaphorical coffin; Beau knew that Charlie made the connection of keeping a terrified, targeted girl safe in the house of the chief of police.
"Dad," Beau said when Charlie didn't respond after a moment. "Edythe is terrified; her life and well-being have been threatened. She is in emotional pain,"—Beau's voice cracked on the word—"She is hurting; if I can help her, I will do it. She, not to mention Archie and the rest of the Cullens, have helped me a lot the past few months. I can at least do this much; for everything that's happened, she's stuck with me through since we met, she never left me, and I'm going to do the same to her. Please?"
Charlie was flabbergasted, put off by the strange fierceness in Beau's voice. Beau was a quiet, reserved, and somewhat shy person; he never let his true feelings show, a trait he had inherited from his father. But now Beau was not acting like that at all. Charlie attributed it to Edythe; she must be in a bad state to cause this reaction in Beau, and he must care for her very deeply to be this affected by it. Charlie mused for a second, wondering what exactly it had been like for his son the past weekend.
Charlie's initial vision was dissolved by the desperation and tremor in Beau's tone. He admitted his views of Edythe had been slightly warped after the events in Phoenix, and he couldn't help but believe that the beautiful, polite, and reserved teenage girl was at least partially responsible for the injuries Beau incurred in Arizona. But, despite his merely formal, distant interactions with her since the incident, he couldn't help but hurt slightly for the young girl that his son cared for, how she was hurting as badly as was being described to him. He did not hold nearly enough enmity for Edythe to find joy in her pain, especially since her pain seemed to be Beau's as well.
"All right, she can stay. I'm assuming you mean starting tonight?" Charlie asked. Beau's eyebrows raised; he expected a harder fight than that from his father, but was more than willing to acquiesce. He assented and said they would be by the house soon. Charlie agreed and ended the call, saying he would bring home dinner.
Beau closed the phone just as Edythe exited the bathroom. She was donned in a pair of jeans and a deep magenta blouse, the scoop neck showing off her collarbones attractively. She was immediately cautious and nervous as she saw Beau slip the phone into his pocket. Beau saw the uneasiness on her face and went to her, pulling her to the bed. He sat besides her, holding her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over her soft skin soothingly.
"What's going on?" Edythe asked, cautious. Beau smiled slightly.
"You're coming back to Charlie's house with me," he told her. He explained the conversation he'd had with Charlie, letting her in on the story he had given; though a bit outlandish, she knew it was a good story to feed to Charlie. Her eyes widened, then she wrapped her arms around his shoulder in a firm hug.
"You didn't have to do that for me," she murmured, half incredulous. "You didn't have to lie to Charlie." He chuckled softly as he ran his hand through her hair, holding her to him in response.
"I did want I had to do," he replied, his low exhale one of relief that the idea had worked out so well. Edythe seemed to relax as well, settling back against her mate as she thought about the prospect, the next part of this journey.
She was exceedingly happy to not have to leave Beau; aside from the normal draw to be near him, she knew she wouldn't have fared the day and night well without his presence. Though some may it consider cowardly and childish, Edythe still did not feel any confidence in her ability to be human; she was still only just getting the hang of recognizing hunger pains and other instinctual signs, and the former was partially governed by Beau's careful eye, aligning her feeding schedule with his so he kept her on track.
The idea of leaving her family for the week made her anxious, and not in the way she expected. Though she admitted to herself that she was selfishly excited to be free of the supernatural eyes and ears watching her every move, the strangeness of practically moving out of the house, made her feel off-balance, wrong, as if her parents were sending her away. She knew, objectively of course, they weren't, that Beau and her family were doing this for her. But that didn't stop the feeling flashing through her, the longing to stay with her family, even though their mere presence scared her out of her wits.
Again, she was aggravated with herself; why couldn't she just get over the ridiculous fear?! She couldn't understand the reactions herself sometimes; no matter how collected she was, every time one of her family was in eyeshot, her body moved as if of its own accord, and her primal instincts overpowered all rational thought. She shook her head slightly; she would need to work on that, she had to.
Edythe tried to distract herself by packing for the extended stay, remembering to include all the human essentials provided for her since yesterday. As afternoon turned to evening, they prepared to leave; Beau packed her bag into the trunk of the Volvo before going back to say goodbye. The Cullen siblings stayed at the far end of the room from Edythe as they made to depart; Beau went to each of them and they tried to give him a boost of confidence and their own goodbye to Edythe through him.
Jessamine squeezed his hands gently, pushing some encouraging and tender feelings into the touch; Eleanor gave him a hug that nearly broke his back, but he made sure to laugh it off to not upset Edythe, who watched him with careful eyes. Archie threw an arm over his shoulder wordlessly, his eyes on Edythe, trying convene to her things he couldn't speak. She was able to keep her eyes on his only for a moment. Royal was absent from the farewells, which, at the moment, suited both humans just fine. Carine pulled Beau into a tight hug
"Thank you for doing this, Beau. For both her and us," she murmured in his ear. Beau hugged her back firmly, unworried about hurting her stone form. When she let him go, Carine delicately placed her hands on his shoulders.
"Keep my daughter safe," she said. Beau nodded his promise to her before turning to the hand on his shoulder. He met the honey eyes of Edythe's father.
"Take care of her," Earnest pleaded. He met the man's gaze, filled with nothing but love and concern for his eldest daughter. No words needed to be exchanged; Earnest knew Beau would care for Edythe as well as he could.
Beau turned to Edythe, who stood awkwardly by the door, unable to get closer to her family to wish them farewell. But she forced herself to lift her gaze to them, sensing their eyes on her. She forced a smile, an expression both affectionate and sad. She didn't say anything, unsure what she could speak that would make this better.
Then, Beau took Edythe's hand and held the door for her. As she walked out ahead of him and got settled in the passenger seat of the Volvo, Beau looked back toward the Cullens. They all remained in the same places as before; Beau waved goodbye to the group before letting the door click closed behind him.
Edythe's sharp scream woke the Chief of Police, jolting him out of sleep at around three in the morning. At first, he was groggy and unaware. But as the sounds continued in the room down the hall, Charlie Swan's conscious mind came to the forefront. Remembering, though blearily, the story his son had relayed to him about the threat to Edythe, he threw the blankets away and stood up. Grabbing his extra pistol from the box under his bed, Charlie left his bedroom quietly and then jerked the door to Beau's room open roughly, barrel pointed.
Edythe cringed into the sheets, her voice hoarse from screaming and her eyes scrunched shut. Beau lay behind her, his arm around her waist as he held her still to keep her from hurting herself in her sleep. He had heard the creak of Charlie's bed and he met his father's gaze, his eyes unfathomable. Beau's hands did not leave Edythe's body, holding her to him securely, hoping in vain for his presence to calm her subconscious.
Edythe's cries went unanswered, though; even Beau, who tried to comfort as much as he was able, could not respond to her, could not think of anything to say to calm her down. Edythe continued to sob, her consciousness trapped in her traumatized mind, her body shaking violently with the onslaught of emotion.
As Charlie looked in on the heartbreaking scene before him, hearing this young girl scream out in her sleep, the wind fell out of his sails, and his shoulders slumped, looking at Edythe without any idea of what to do.
After a moment, Charlie closed the door, leaving Beau to attend to Edythe. Silently, almost in a stunned mindset, he went back to his room. Sitting down on the edge of his mattress, his eyes strayed out the crack in the curtains, his mind far away.
He did not know what to think when Beau had arrived at the house with Edythe earlier that evening. He had not expected to be able to see such a change in Beau's girlfriend when she came to stay with them. But as Beau silently pulled her through the door and up to his room, later coming down to grab dinner but choosing to bring a second plate up for her, he could only comprehend what had happened that would cause this kind of reaction.
Carine had called later to confirm Beau's story; a distant uncle of Edythe had been trying for some time to take over Edythe's custody; though she was only barely seventeen and the court order, if successful, would only last up to a year, the man was insistent, even going to such lengths to corner Edythe in public places, places she was threatened if she caused a scene. Carine and Earnest had been in a constant battle with him and the courts for months, and it was starting to wear on Edythe.
The idea of what the Cullens were going through, Carine and Earnest fighting for Edythe while Edythe was between the two parties, made Charlie remember all too easily similar situation he had seen; custody battles were hard on the child, and could leave them traumatized. It was part of the reason Charlie had not fought Renee when she had left, a decision that he still toyed with often throughout the years.
With that in mind, he had easily agreed to Edythe's coming there to stay, and he had been surprised by the change in her. Edythe had always been quiet, reserved and proper, and she laughed and smiled happily in Beau's presence. She was now more reserved than ever before, not leaving Beau's room except to use the bathroom; he hadn't seen her since she had been led upstairs by his son.
Beau had been exceedingly protective of Edythe all day, more so than Charlie had ever seen before. The fear in his eyes at the prospect of letting Edythe be alone, even during the night, the primal panic in his expression, gave Charlie pause, unsure how to react to such an expression. And now he was fortunate he had allowed Edythe to come.
Beau felt slight relief as Charlie left him alone with Edythe once more, even as he failed to calm her down. He did not want to wake her up, knowing she would just be tired, but it pained him to watch her cry out like this. She still had never admitted what it was in her dreams that frightened her so much, and Beau was honestly too rattled to ask. Edythe coughed suddenly, her eyes flashing open. Beau spoke to her softly, his arms tightening over her small, trembling form.
"It's okay, Edythe, breathe," he told her softly. Edythe let out a low gasp, getting her breathing pattern back to normal. Once more, she found herself in a bed, Beau's long arms locked around her, holding her for support for a nightmare she could not get a handle on. She turned onto her back, taking note of her sweating body through her thin pajamas. She looked up at the ceiling, focusing on keeping her breathing deep and consistent. Her mind shied away from the images in her mind, lounging to focus only on Beau's gentle hands on her but she couldn't shake them completely.
Just as the first night, the nightmares were the same; starting off as a mere memory before warping into Edythe herself being attacked. The memory was one she had not dwelled on much in the ninety plus years since it had occurred; she had stalked many men down alleys, had listened to their thoughts, seen what they had done, whether to their wives, or to the elderly, or to young girls. They had all been miserable excuses for human beings, and this one had been no different.
The only rectifying feature she could remember was that she had stumbled onto one of the man's victims, a young girl of about thirteen, who had managed to get away only by a foolish, over confident slip on her predator's part. It was how Edythe had started on the chase, how she had tracked his scent back to the bar and followed him out. The real memory of that night, she knew, had concluded without much significance. There had been no other attacker, of course, and the man had died easily, a kindness Edythe could say he did not provide for his own victims.
Her mind had focused on this small inconsequential memory, had embellished it to the point of haunting her subconscious. However, this night was different from last night on one particular point; before she had wrenched her eyes awake, she had been able to recognize the face of her attacker. And she had been horrified, and completely stunned as her eyes had resolved the dark figure's tall stature, piercing tawny eyes, and slick blonde hair into the face of Royal. She had cringed away from her brother in her dream just as she had earlier that day, his furious, treacherous gaze making it seem like her murder was not far out of the realm of possibilities.
Edythe clung to Beau tightly, trying to push the unsettling thoughts away, and nearly jumped when she heard his phone start to vibrate. He reached over her and picked up the incoming call.
"Archie," he said, slightly surprised. He listened to what Edythe's brother said, Edythe watching him half-exhausted and half-curious. After a moment, Beau offered Edythe the phone. She took it cautiously, unsure how she would react to speaking to her brother.
"Hey, Edy," Archie said softly to her as she pressed the phone to her ear.
"Hey," she tried to make out, but her throat was raw from screaming.
As she had spoken, Beau had sat up in bed, and she followed.
"Come to the window," Archie told her. Catuously, Edythe swung her legs over the bed, steadying herself on her feet, still slightly confused.
Edythe moved to Beau's bedroom window—a piece of architecture she often utilized as a door, up until three days ago—and looked out onto the dark lawn. Unlike before, her human eyes struggled to focus, unable to see much except for blackness. But, as her pupils dilated, she saw Archie, Carine, and Eleanor step out of the tree line, just far enough that she could see them. Archie had the phone pressed to his ear, and was looking up at her.
"You're all right, Edy," he assured her. "You're safe." Carine and Eleanor followed his eyeline and she met their gazes. Unexpectedly, Edythe found herself relaxing at the words, a first in her family's relative presence since she had been changed. The distance between the top of the house and the forest, though not very far for a vampire to travel—as Edythe knew from personal experience—was more than enough to keep her body's instinctual reaction in check. Instead of vampires in Beau's yard, she was able to see her family. She smiled, her expression still tired.
"Thank you," she said to them and, even in the darkness, she saw Carine's smile and Eleanor's satisfied grin. "I love you," she added.
The small phrase, the small admission, did wonders for both parties. Edythe felt herself calming further, as her family's emotions washed with relief and tenderness; they knew she still loved them, and she knew they still loved her, but with all that happened, hearing the words gave them clarity, something substantial for all of them to hold onto.
"Goodnight, sweetheart. Sleep well," Carine said softly. Edythe's eyes met her mother's through the glass and distance between them. Though Edythe couldn't make all the details out, Carine could; she could see the stress, the darkening bags under Edythe's eyes from the sleepless nights, and hoped by doing this would help her. Archie and Eleanor said their goodbyes and they ended the call, stepping back into the darkness. Edythe slowly made her way back to Beau's bed, the sleepiness taking over her once more.
She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.