Disclaimer: I have never owned and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight saga. She is a God. I am a poor student. I never have and never will profit from this. Se la vie.
Chapter Seven: Routine
Edward woke me with kisses. I hoped that this would be the entirety of my life. Happy mornings, slow afternoons, and delightful evenings.
I made him breakfast and helped him pack his briefcase, then kissed him goodbye before he left for work. Kate and I went to the grocer to buy things for dinner. We kept things simple. It wouldn't be a culinary masterpiece but it would keep us fed. I returned the dresses I could and sold the ones I couldn't while in town while Kate scowled and cursed the state of the world.
"War… poverty hidden behind gussied up faces and that devilish music… Things are hard for people as it is! Is there no mercy out there for a soul?"
"Kate, you can't really be upset with heaven over this. It's not Edward's fault. It's not God's. It's people's in general. And I don't need any of this… I'd rather not have a wardrobe stuffed to the brim."
"Well. I think 'tis poor form of Missus Elizabeth to not be completely honest about all this business."
"I don't thinks he knew, Kate… And it wouldn't have deterred me."
Ever. Never. Edward was perfect… I loved him for being Edward, not because he appeared to be rich. Charlie didn't care either, so long as I was happy.
The streets of Chicago were lined with people, busily shopping, working, throwing out refuse. The heat made stench nearly unbearable near the alleyways. But the constantly blowing wind at least kept our airways reasonably clear.
It was like Edward said – even as the women in silks and crêpe de chine sauntered up and down the walks, or drove down the street in elegant touring cars, filth festered just behind the façade. Little boys in worn shoes with dirty faces shouted to sell papers. Poor children, doing anything to win a nickel. Even though industry boomed with war productions, even though the media proclaimed the country's greatness, Edward was right. My family had witnessed many a hardship in the beginning of the year. Angela's parents had to sell half of their chickens to keep their farm.
In the city, the businessmen all panicked when the Dow Jones dropped. It had been the first significant pitfall in ten years. The war, which we had abstained from in the beginning, was suddenly an escape. As we manufactured guns, the United States' finances improved.
But the people still felt the depression that lurked just under the surface. The Golden Age was a farce designed to fool those who didn't want to see.
I brooded all the way home and had already stored the foodstuffs in the cellar and pantry when I saw brown paper package on the small kitchen table.
"Kate?" I called upstairs as I grabbed my parasol and gloves. I put Edward's lunch into my shopping basket, adding an apple and a bit of fresh bread. "I'm walking to the station. Edward forgot his lunch!"
Kate called down something I took as assent before I closed the front door behind me.
The courthouse was an impressive, austere sort of building. It was imposing beside the plain brick buildings on either side. The one to the left housed the Masen-Stanley firm. Mr. Stanley had been Mr. Masen's business partner from 1901 until 19016, contributing funds to the firm until just recently.
The office workers nodded at me and smiled as I passed. I stopped at the floor secretary's desk and took off my hat, holding it in my hand, my parasol hanging on my wrist.
"Would you please direct me to my husband's office, please?" I said with the best smile I could manage. My cheeks flushed slightly when I said it. I loved that he was mine. The young man behind the desk nodded and smiled politely.
"This way, ma'am. He's actually in a meeting with Mr. Masen, Sr. and Mrs. Newton but you're welcome to wait for him." I thanked the boy and followed him to Edward's office. On the desk was a clipping from the newspaper featuring our wedding. I was beaming and clinging to his arm. He was perfection in his light suit.
A framed photo of he and I stood on the desk. We were standing together, smiling at the camera, surrounded by friends and family. From the formal photo sitting at the reception, I realized.
I jumped slightly as the door opened and my love walked through. I smiled at first, but Edward's expression made it falter and fail. His eyes were troubled, his lips drawn into a scowl.
"I… You forgot your lunch, so I thought I'd come and deliver it and eat with you if you have time."
Edward's expression didn't change. He just pulled me into an embrace. I felt the tension in his body, that he needed me for support rather than comfort at this moment. I looped my arms around his waist and kissed his neck, unable to reach anything else from the position.
"What's wrong, Edward?"
"Nothing to worry you, sweetheart. Just work… Of course I have time. Thank you, Bella."
He sat in the seat beside me as I set out his lunch and mine. He bit into his sandwich appreciatively and I frowned as I nibbled my bread and cheese.
"I don't feed you enough," I said with a little disappointment. "You're far too hungry."
"Nonsense. I'm quite fat enough and I only eat so quickly because it's so incredibly delicious, Bella."
We ate in silence for a while. When I finished I massaged his shoulders while I told him about my day. Time passed at a leisurely pace and Edward started paperwork before he had eaten the entirety of his lunch. He was finishing the apple when I asked about the last night's dilemma.
"Did you talk to your father?" I felt my cheeks flush.
Edward's lips curled into a smirk and the blush darkened.
"Of course. And we have a solution. Don't worry. You'll have your fun this evening."
I couldn't help but giggle as he brushed his lips across my ear.
"Edward?"
I turned to the small voice coming from the door. The woman standing there had perfect brown curls, a haughty look, and a dress that must have been from a French line somewhere.
"Eddie, I'm sorry to disturb you and your… wife, but could you please help me? I don't want to walk home alone, considering… you know."
Edward's eyes hardened slightly but he sighed and kissed my cheek.
"Of course, Mrs. Newton."
I thought I heard an emphasis on the "Mrs."
"Have you met my wife? Bella, this is Jessica Newton. Mr. Newton's wife."
"Soon to be his ex-wife," she said with a cheerful smile. Her eyes appraised me and her lips curled into a sneer. "Being married is a misfortune, I must admit." She gave Edward a significant look that he politely ignored. I decided then that I no longer felt very sorry for Mrs. Newton.
"I'll meet you at home, Bella," said Edward with a sigh.
I nodded to him and gave his fingers a light squeeze. I didn't like it. But I couldn't make him be rude to a client. So I quietly let the other woman walk out with her arm wrapped possessively where mine usually was. Jessica Newton and her smug little smile. Well, she might be an awful flirt but she still didn't deserve her husband. I looked out the window and frowned. The weather had become stormy in the two hours I had been there.
Outside, the wind whipped ferociously around me and cut through my thin summer jacket. I constantly stopped to hold down my skirt, though I knew it was probably too long to expose anything besides my bestockinged calves.
Rain began to fall about four blocks from our home on Elm Street. My cotton parasol soon became a hindrance. The rain seeped through it, and the wind buffeted it so that my progress slowed. I closed it with some effort before continuing on up State Street. I soon found myself feeling for brick walk rather than seeing it.
I hoped Edward had had the sense to call a car for Mrs. Newton and then for himself.
I wished I had the sense to bring a little pocket money with me. Then I could hail a cab, too.
I kept walking on, hoping the sudden storm would dissipate quickly. My thoughts drifted to my wedding. I was fortunate to have found Edward. I doubted whether I could have been happy with anyone else. I felt complete with him. Loved. Accepted. Respected – something I often missed among others.
Kate was furious with me when I walked in the door.
"Missus! You are sure to catch your death walking 'round in the rain with not so much as a coat! Foolish girl – married and in her own home and still ha'nt got the sense she should have been born with!" she spewed while peeling my wet clothes off of me. She brought me a robe and led me to the bathroom, forcing me into the tub.
"Warm yourself. I've already started dinner."
I sat obediently, thanking her for her trouble while the warm water soothed away my gooseflesh and worries. Edward would be coming home to me, not Jessica Newton.
"Bella, darling?"
Edward's angelic voice woke me from my heat-induced sleep. I smiled up at him and realized the water was luke-warm. I must have been here for a while now. He stroked my cheek before lifting me out of the bath, getting his shirtsleeves wet.
"You shouldn't…"
"I'm already soaked through and through. You were planning on joining me for dinner, weren't you?"
"How long was I asleep?" I asked, still drowsy as he carried me to my vanity.
"I just got home a moment ago. Kate asked me to make sure you haven't drowned. I do wish you wouldn't sleep in the bath, Bella." His perfect voice was lightly chiding. I couldn't find it in me to be remorseful. I was in his arms and he was home.
"Anything you want, Edward."
He chuckled and toweled my hair before going to change out of his wet things. He brought me a dress and underclothes after he had slipped into khaki trousers and a fresh shirt. If I had not seen my love undressed, I would have sworn that Edward could never be more glorious.
Hand-in-hand we descended the stairs to the dining room. Kate served cabbage and bean soup with bread and cheese. I told Edward apologetically that we decided to cut down our food budget until we were squared away financially. He touched his fingers to my face with both agony and admiration in his eyes.
"Thank you, Bella… I wish… I wish I could give you more – I promise I will, once we're out of everyone's pockets!"
And the fire in his eyes convinced me that he would. But as far as I was concerned, I could eat cardboard and be happy so long as he was with me.
"I love you. Don't worry. I hardly taste my food when I dine with you. You effectively distract me from everything."
His answering smile melted my heart.
After dinner we went upstairs together. Edward showered and I sat beside the balcony, reading by the light of a kerosene lamp.
Edward sang from the bathroom, and the cheerful sound of it kept me from absorbing the words. I gave up quickly, deciding that I should go ahead and dress for bed.
I hung up my dress and folded my drawers. The nightgown I slipped on was soft cotton, lacy at the collar and untied easily in the front. Edward had promised me a fulfilling evening.
The sound of running water cut off in the bathroom and Edward walked into the bedroom in nothing more than a towel. He smiled devilishly at me before climbing into bed. It wasn't long before passion won over conscious thought, and Edward's touch kept me in our personal nirvana until neither of us could withstand the pull of sleep any longer.
In the months that followed, our days and nights followed the same routine. Anthony Masen's secret seemed to work – I remained childless, and Edward and I enjoyed our private lives together without worrying about further expense.
While the war raged on outside of our paradise, our relationship grew in strength and intensity. I brought him lunch every day and ate it with him. He shared his fears and thoughts with me, even when it had to do with work. I didn't understand all the time, but I tried my best to give my insight. He worked from seven every morning till five at the office from June until November. I took a job as a seamstress from home. I wasn't amazing at it, but I could manage well enough with a Singer and Kate's help. But as December came, Edward became frenzied and impatient.
Suddenly, he took freelance assignments. He left our bed at dawn and barely waited for breakfast before going to work. And work he did until well past sunset. I begged him, in vain, to think a little more about his health – he lost weight, he slept little… And it worried me to death.
But despite my protests, despite breaking down into tears once, he would not listen. Would not consider for a moment that no one wished this madness. It was not our first argument, but it was the most heated.
"Edward, I don't understand what you're trying to accomplish by working yourself to death!" I cried. Tears had been streaming down my cheeks for the last ten minutes already. "Day in and day out – hardly taking a moment to breathe, and now you hardly sleep four hours before doing it all over again! You're going to kill yourself!" My voice cracked and broke. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't bear it! He looked back at me with frenzied eyes.
Circles were etched into his skin beneath them and I hoped that he would live long enough for them to disappear. He coughed into his kerchief paced closer to the fireplace. His cheeks, once boyish and soft, had become disturbingly angular, almost hollowed. He was sickly pale, and his hands shook slightly.
"Bella, you can't possibly expect me to… Don't you understand? This is all for you! I won't have my wife living like a pauper when I can provide more for her! I won't stand for you selling your things so I can have a little more sleep. I can't stand watching you suffer because of my father's foolish mistakes – My mistakes for allowing him to draw me into this mess!" He stormed across the room and fell at my feet, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head in my lap.
"I can't do it, Bella… You mean too much to me. I promise… I promised you I would take care of this mess and I will. And soon. So we can have a family. So we can live without burden or fear…" He picked up my hands, not as soft as they once were from the sewing, constantly pricking myself, the threading and working the machine making my fingertips callused. "So you don't have to do anything more trying than kiss me when I return to you at the end of the day. I can't allow it Bella. Not for long."
He hugged me close to him and I clung to him. It had been a long while since we had made love, but that night he held me closer than he had since our wedding night.
In the morning I woke before he did, made his coffee, and called Anthony from our phone.
"Operator? Edward A. Masen, Sr., please. On Astor Street."
"Yes, ma'am. One moment please." The line disconnected with a click and I hung up the receiver while I waited. I thought idly that perhaps that would be a better job. I could work as a telephone operator and Edward wouldn't have to watch me do it. I could arrange hours when he was working, as well. The phone rang and I picked up quickly.
"Hello? Anthony Masen speaking."
"Anthony? It's Bella… I'm sorry to call you so early," I said softly. I didn't want to wake Kate or Edward.
"That's quite alright darling. What's the mater, dear? Why have you called?"
"It's Edward… I think he's overworking himself. He hasn't had a full night's rest in weeks and he's making himself ill… Could he take the week off please? Christmas is around the corner and I think he'd benefit from some vacation. I'm frightened for him, Father."
I used the word knowing it would endear me to him. Anthony seemed to consider it for a moment.
"Of course, dear. I haven't seen much of the boy – I wouldn't have known! He's done so well to have you as a wife. Looking after his health – of course! Of course he can have the week off. I'll have Wesley finish up his current cases in his absence. Look after him, dear girl. Good day."
I sighed in relief and went back upstairs, turning off the little brass Big Ben alarm clock I had bought for him in August.
He rolled over onto his side and I laid a soft kiss on his temple before dressing and going downstairs to start breakfast. I had a little bacon left in the icebox, so I fried that once I had started the stove and put the biscuits in the oven. Eggs were last. I put everything on a tray and carried it upstairs carefully, hoping silently that I would not have an attack of clumsiness.
By some miracle I managed to make it to our bedroom door. I was glad I thought to leave it open. I carefully treaded across the room and set Edward's breakfast on his bedside table. Silently, I leaned over him and kissed his lips lightly, smoothing his hair out of his face. He shivered. It was freezing cold in the mornings. The fire had died down to almost nothing.
"Edward, darling."
He grunted but didn't wake.
"Wake up, darling. Breakfast time."
Edward sat up suddenly and groaned, rubbing his forehead.
"What…time is it?"
"Don't worry about that. You have the week off, remember? Christmas is just around the corner." I hoped he was too tired to see through my lie about the week. He had been so busy he just might not catch on just yet.
"Is it? Did you make breakfast for me already?" he asked, his eyes widening at the spread of food. I smiled and positioned it on his lap, buttering a biscuit for him and smearing jam on it.
"Yes. I thought you could use breakfast in bed for once. You've been working yourself crazy."
"Thank you, love," he said with a genuine smile. I hadn't seen it in too long. I kissed his nose before sliding into bed on the other side.
"So."
Edward looked at me with a little smirk. I felt myself blush.
"What do you want to do on our week off?"
"Hmmm… lots of things. We can take walks together. Like we did when you were courting me." He smiled and kissed my cheek. "We can stay in bed all day, if you like…" I couldn't help but giggle. "Or we could just read and play and do whatever we feel like at the moment."
By the look in Edward's eyes, he seemed to like the second idea the most.
The week passed uneventfully. We loved each other and relaxed together. I didn't do any sewing. He didn't look in his briefcase even once. Kate took the time to go to New York to visit her nephews and nieces. We spent Christmas with Charlie, Elizabeth, and Anthony at the Masen house.
Edward had thought ahead and bought Charlie a brand new fishing rod, with a neat little tackle box and straw hat. For Elizabeth we bought a phonograph second-hand and polished it until it looked new. Edward and I gave her two different records, one of the Austrian Boy's Choir and another of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.
Edward's gift to me was a heart in the shape of a diamond. It was a bauble passed down from his grandmother. I wore it on a simple white gold chain Renée had given me years ago.
My gift to Edward wasn't as extravagant, but I worked hard for it. He had never let me use my wages from mending clothes to pay for anything other than groceries, so I had saved and scrimped, and finally I had earned enough to buy an upright, beat-up piano. It looked in bad need of help, but it was tuned and it played beautifully. And I was sure with a little help it could look just lovely. Edward thought it was marvelous, of course. I had the piano delivered that morning to our home, and he announced to the family what I had done for him.
Christmas dinner was an extravagant affair. Toasts and laughter resonated across the table. Even Charlie joined in on the holiday cheer. And when the ham, potatoes, string beans, casseroles, and pies were mostly eaten, Edward sat at the piano and we sang into the night. We sung carols at the tops of our voices, swinging eggnogs and laughing.
It was a long time before anyone felt tired, but eventually, Charlie slumped into an armchair and did not stir again. Anthony yawned and Elizabeth did the same, though more delicately. My head felt heavy against Edward's shoulder. Edward finally had to help me stand and get into my coat and muff. We said our goodbyes and I kissed Elizabeth on the cheeks before we carefully made our way down the icy steps and onto the walk. The last thing I remembered was Edward flagging a cab to go back home.
Throughout the following week we lazed about the house, not doing much, sitting in front of the fire and reading. He played piano and sang to me. Our nights were spent in each other's arms. Our mornings were slow and relaxed.
January 1, 1918, fell on a Tuesday. We spent the last night of December back at the Masen house, drinking champagne and setting off firecrackers and small fireworks. At midnight, the bells in town square rang, and we walked home, slightly tipsy, and slid into bed.
Later that morning, Edward rose from bed at five-thirty and our routine picked up where it left off. But along with the New Year came a couple of changes. Edward stopped working so hard after seeing that I was happier when he had time to unwind and enjoy life with me.
It amazed me that we had been married for eight months already. And every day of it had been blissful. The only thing that marred my blissful existence was that Kate, my best friend since my birth, had yet to send a telegram or letter from her visit to New York.
A/N: Sorry if some of you found this chapter boring. I needed it to organize my thoughts, set the time, etc… as we approach the climax of Edward and Bella's human life. I'll be posting more slowly as term gets closer, but I shall be posting. Happy reading. I promise to deliver a tear-jerking, heartwarming experience to you all.
Please review.
-Forensica X
