Edward watched the Saturday breakfast crowd and folks running errands, enjoying the cool sunny morning. As he sat outside at a cafe table, he checked his watch, calculating his route to Forks for the hundredth time since he'd woken that morning.
Logically, Edward knew he had to leave by noon to get there just after three, but the reality of Maggie running late for a talk over coffee set his jaw ticking and his patience to wear thin. Bringing his wrist up to look again after realizing he looked but didn't note the time, told him that. If he left by noon, he would be there just after three. But, with Maggie already being ten minutes late, the chances of taking the 'short' route and catching the ferry were getting slimmer and slimmer. Guess he wasn't stopping in to check on Mom until the trip back.
As he pulled his phone out to text her again, he saw her around the corner, red hair freshly blown out, looking stylish in a summer dress and wedges. Bringing his Americano up to his lips for something to do more than a desire to drink, he watched in silence as she took a seat directly across from him.
"You didn't order for me?" she asked, annoyed by way of her greeting.
"Hi, Maggie. No, I didn't know what you would want."
With a huff, he watched as she stood back up, heading into the cafe. Without thinking, he rechecked the time. If he made this quick, he could be on the road in thirty minutes and maybe make it early. But as he watched her through the window waiting in line, he knew no way was that happening. Convinced that watching her wait in line for her turn at the counter made time move slower, he texted his mom instead, letting her know the change of plans, hoping he still might catch Emily while she visited from DC for the long weekend.
"All right, let's get this over with," Maggie said, adjusting the skirt of her dress before sitting, after having killed another ten minutes getting her drink.
"Why are you acting like this; you're the one who's late. If you have better things to do, we could have—"
"I had to Uber here, Edward. If I could have just driven my car, I would have been on time."
"Maggie, you've brought the signed-over title and hopefully the keys. You cannot drive the car anymore."
"I know, okay? You act like I did this on purpose or like me not being able to afford it anymore is to get you back or something."
"I don't feel or think that. I'm just trying to help you, remember?"
"Well, helping would've been loaning me the money for a few months or until I found a new job. Now that I have to pay rent and cover everything myself, I could've done it; I needed more time. Things haven't exactly been easy since we broke up, Edward." He watched as she gauged his reaction, a move he'd become familiar with over the years when she thought she was introducing an idea he would shut down. Keeping his face neutral, he let the inappropriateness of her comment hang in the air. "The least you could do is ask how I am or what's new. Anything for chrissakes," she said, removing the lid of her to-go cup to dump in way too much sugar and creamer.
"You broke up with me. I assume that means I'm no longer entitled to that information," he said even though he felt the sting of hypocrisy knowing he had been doing just that by checking on her via Facebook and Instagram when the break-up was still felt fresh. "Listen, I'm not here to fight with you or hash anything out. I need the title to give to Carl this weekend."
"Don't you care at all?" She said with a tremor, bright blue eyes suddenly red around the rims.
"Fuck, of course, I do, okay? This hasn't been easy for me either but dragging it out isn't helping either of us. It kills me."
"Sure doesn't look like it,"
Sighing, Edward took another drink of his cooling coffee. "I don't know what to tell you."
"Tell me it's as hard for you as for me." Her voice rose, drawing attention from nearby tables, causing her to hiss, "you're the hardest person to get over."
He wanted to fight, to defend himself, but what good would it do? Fighting meant there was something worth salvaging.
Maggie continued, calm and controlled, making him wonder how much of this interaction was sincere. "Are you seeing someone?"
"All right, Maggie, I'm not doing this—"
"I'll stop. Just finish your coffee, at least."
"I'm not seeing anyone. I don't know what else there is to say. You can't afford the car; I'm helping by taking it off your hands."
"You're so fucking smug. You are so thrilled I'm struggling."
"Why would I be thrilled," he sighed, suddenly exhausted but taking the bait anyway.
"You loved swooping in on me, poor girl from Ohio, who'd never been on a real vacation. Buying me nice things, buying me a nice car and condo. You loved having that power of me."
"Jesus, it wasn't power over you. I wanted a nice life for us. You cared about all that material shit. I just wanted you to be happy. I bought us a condo. I helped you qualify for a car loan. I wasn't your sugar daddy. I thought we were partners."
He watched her as she stared out towards the street, feeling zero joy at seeing her sulk over her barb not having its intended effect. When Maggie wanted something, and he could swing it financially, he wouldn't hesitate to get it for her. But when want turned to entitlement, the pleasure he got from taking care of her, of them, settled like a rock in his belly, growing as he watched her keeping up with whatever Jones' she found each week. Towards the end, it became abundantly clear that their relationship was transactional for her, and somewhere along the way, disenchantment and resentment let it be that way for him, too. While Edward was a lot of things, never would he use his money or privilege to control someone. Not like his father had when his mother tried to leave. If this relationship and the self-reflection that followed revealed anything, he was confident in knowing at least that.
Checking his watch more out of a leaving ceremony than to check the time, he stood, "I'm driving to Forks; I've got to get going. Carl's getting the car towed on Tuesday, and he'll direct deposit the money from the sale into our loan account. I asked that he text you if he has any issues." Waiting for a response and accepting he wasn't going to get one, he pushed his chair back, saying, "goodbye, Maggie."
As he turned, stopping himself from sprinting to his parked car, she asked before he was out of earshot, "when did you delete your Instagram?"
"I didn't," he said without further explanation.
He blocked her weeks ago, more for himself than her, but had no intention of rubbing salt in any more wounds.
Arriving at Emmett's a few hours later, he walked up to the house, now sporting flower beds and wind chimes along the porch. Rosie was good for this place and even better for Emmett. Hearing voices and laughter coming from the back, he switched directions, making his way through the sideyard, taking in Emmett at the grill and the hand full of people already there; some he thought he knew and others he had no idea. He slowed his pace, looking for one face in particular.
"She's not here yet," came a familiar voice, taking the six-pack of beer out of his hand, shifting a garbage bag she was carrying to the other.
"Who?" He asked, taking both away from her and turning back the way he came to dispose of the other.
"You know who. Just because I decided to settle down and stay in this podunk town doesn't mean I stopped being best friends with Bella."
Tucking the beer under his arm as he tossed the bag, he could feel Rosalie scrutinizing his reaction.
"I know it, Rosalie. I'm glad for it."
"Why would you be glad for that."
Was everyone going to pick a fight with him today? "Because she's good people and deserves someone like you around her," he said, giving her a side hug as he walked away, whistling for Emmett's attention.
"Eduardo!" Emmett shouted. He was in his element hosting, while Edward tried to ignore the daggers, he knew Rosalie was aiming at him with her eyes.
Leaning in for a quick hug, bracing as Emmett's big hands pounded his back.
"What's up, man. Sorry, I'm late.
"Nah, not late; we're just getting started," Emmett said, taking a sip of his beer and flipping some of the burgers on the grill. Grabbing a craft one of his own before putting them in the ice chest at Em's feet, Edward settled in on one of the Adirondacks, talking with those congregated around their boisterous host. Content to enjoy the sunny weather and the company he hadn't seen in far too long; relieved to feel the pressure from his encounter with Maggie release with each crass joke and sip of cold beer.
Following her parents up to Rose and Emmett's front door, she linked her arm through Alice's to keep her grounded. She would see Edward, and it wouldn't be awkward or weird. They were friends. Nevertheless, as they made their way through the living room and towards the kitchen, she wondered if she should have tried a little harder with her attire. The high-waisted shorts and Dad's old Forks PD T-shirt tied in a knot worked fine for the early morning she spent with Charlie but was definitely not her cutest look. But as they found a group in the kitchen, including Edward and Rose, setting up the spread, her cheeks warmed as she watched him subtlety turn his head to take her in, light eyes framed by dark lashes, keeping his body angled away from her.
"See, Charlie, if we're late- we never have to wait for the food," Rene teased, rubbing his back, knowing it was one of his biggest pet peeves.
"I don't like it, and I'm not getting used to it," he said gruffly, making his way to get himself a plate of food.
"Ignore him; he's just grumpy that we were up at the ass-crack of dawn to fish and didn't catch anything," she said, making the rounds to Rosalie and her brother as he came in with food from the grill.
"Bella, language. If you're going to curse, at least make sense," her dad continued grumbling about dawn not having an ass crack.
Ignoring him, Bella sided up to Edward, bumping his hip with hers and uttering a quiet hey as she served herself too.
Clearing his throat, he responded with a tug of her shirt and a "hey, yourself."
As her parents settled around the kitchen table, Bella thought better of saying more and instead followed Rose to sit outside, knowing Alice would soon follow, once she stopped smiling at her phone, at least.
Bella was happy to see her so smitten. However, herself unsettled as she was unsure whether she could say the same about her situation.
As their girls sat at the small table on the deck, they fell back into their easy way, gossiping and catching up.
"You're drinking, Rose?" Bella asked as her best friend came back with hard seltzers for the three of them, "I thought you guys were trying to you-know-what."
"Bella, trying for a baby is not the same as Voldemort. You can say it out loud," she laughed
"Well, I don't know! I didn't know if that was common knowledge around here."
"There are no secrets in this town," she took a sip before continuing, "we are, but no luck yet. I've been so strict with myself, watching my diet and tracking my cycle; it was causing a lot of stress. We decided to just chill for a bit. We're still trying, just more relaxed this time around." She said with a bite of her lip.
"Oh gross, please don't think about my naked brother when you're talking to me."
As the girls continued catching up and the afternoon turned to early evening, Edward and Bella found themselves orbiting each other without an opportunity to connect. For Bella, this had been entirely intentional. After confessing that they had been talking to Alice and Rose, she could feel their watchful gazes any time she was in his vicinity, assessing her face for clues as if the sound of his laugh would reduce the irises of her dark brown eyes to cartoonish hearts. She felt equal parts exhausted and challenged to steal some time away with him.
"His body language says it all, Bella," Rose whispered as her friend caught her for the umpteenth time looking his way. "He's always angled towards you in some way. It's like he has a Bella radar."
"Oh my gosh, shush. Emmett or Charlie will hear you," she said with a slap on Rose's arm.
"You should be more worried about our moms," Rosie said, giving a pointed look to where Sheila and Rene were giggling like schoolgirls.
"Umm, didn't they just smoke? I think I'll be fine. Isn't it the worst to know our parents smoke weed now? Do you remember how much trouble we were in when we got caught behind—"
"Don't change the subject! And if anything, they're more dangerous when they're stoned. What is going on with you two, and then you better tell me what's going on with you and Mike."
"Oh my god, nothing is going on with Edward and me. We're just friends. And I'm tired of everyone always asking about Mike. We've been together for what, two months? We're not engaged."
Knowing her friend, Rosalie could see that she struck a chord; it meant she was in much deeper than she either realized or wanted to admit.
"Look, I'll stop," she said, grabbing Bella's hand. "I worry about you. Watching you with Edward back then was rough, and I just want you to put yourself first."
"I am, I promise. He seems different, though, right? He's more open with me now; like I feel I can actually say I know him."
"He's not bad; I don't think ever was, really. I think he just shuts down when things get too difficult. He hadn't talked to Emmett in weeks before this. I think Maggie fucked him up. Or did. He seemed fine when he got here anyway."
"What do you mean he seemed fine?"
"After meeting up with her today. He didn't tell you?" Rose asked, seeming sincerely surprised.
"Nope."
Bella let herself feel like a fool for a breath before releasing it on her exhale. They were friends. He was not obligated to tell her everything, anything.
"Bella, I wasn't trying to be shady by telling you,"
"I know, Rosita. It's fine," Bella responded with a squeeze of her hand, watching Edward across the way joking and laughing with their friends, including Charlie.
"Okay, Mija, we're going to head out," Rene came by with Sheila in tow.
"Are you feeling okay? Tired?" Bella fretted, looking at her mother's face for signs of fatigue before hugging her.
"I'm fine. We old folks are just going back to ours. Let you kids have your fun."
Following her mom to where the guys were so she could hug them goodbye, she caught the tail end of Emmett's joking, not swooning at the way Edward's eyes crinkled as he laughed.
"All right, kids, Mom says we're out," Charlie said, finishing his soda, ever the DD. "Nice mustache, by the way," he threw over his shoulder to Edward as he hugged his kids goodbye.
Bella laughed, surprising Edward when she reached to scratch at his stubble-covered face "it's great. Keep it forever," she teased, following her parents to walk them out, not noticing the flex of his jaw in response to her touch.
The night continued, beer, laughter, shots, a lingering look, beer, beer, beer. Edward and Bella continued to keep their distance, an unspoken agreement to play it cool. But as everyone became more inebriated and less focused on the bigger picture, he saw his opportunity to finally talk to Bella as he watched her head inside.
Making his way down Emmett's hallway, assuming she had gone to the bathroom after quick peeks in the kitchen and living room revealed she wasn't there. He rounded the corner, Bella, on the same path, as they almost collided. Edward's hand was warm and steady on her waist unnecessarily, but the thrill of the contact made it too difficult to move.
"Jesus, you scared me," she breathed, eyes pulled to his hand on her side, pinky grazing the exposed skin where her tied-up shirt and shorts didn't meet.
"Sorry," he whispered, although he was unsure why. "I just wanted a second alone. You look so pretty tonight, Bella."
With a soft chuckle, she moved away from his touch, "I'll find you later."
When most of the crowd had gone, only empty beer cans and disposable shot glasses were left as evidence of anyone being there. As Edward settled into the guest room for the night, he worried that Bella might have been a bit too tipsy earlier or he was too forward, evidenced by her not coming to find him at some point during the night.
Pulling the blankets down on the bed, a tap on the window that overlooked the backyard told him he was wrong.
At least he hoped he was.
AN:
Thank you to Fran for taking out the excess thats and reallys that I can't seem to stop throwing in everywhere.
Thank you for reading!
