A/N: My gratitude as always to Ms Kathy, my wonderful beta and friend. Thank you for your expert proofing and editing, as well as your hospitality. Come visit me soon!

There is much change in store for our characters, and it starts here.

--#--

July slipped into August, and the hot weather continued. The unceasing humidity wore on everyone at Poppy's – customers and staff alike.

"Your sugar momma is here, Edward," Jessica said snarkily as he was ringing in an order. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw Bella and Frankie settling down at a nearby table.

"Fuck off," he replied in a low voice. "It's not like that."

"Sure, you're 'just friends.'" Jessica drew exaggerated air quotes. "What 23-year-old guy is 'just friends' with some lady old enough to be his mother?"

Edward glowered at her. "She is not old enough to be my mom, you idiot."

"Oh yeah? Well, how old is she then?" Edward had no answer to that because he didn't know how old Bella was, and couldn't bring himself to ask. Even he knew that wasn't a question that sane people asked women. "See!" said Jessica triumphantly. "You don't even know. She must be a real close friend." She minced off, looking satisfied with herself.

Bella's age. Her profession. Where she lives. Why doesn't she tell me anything?

"Mr. Edward?"

He blinked and looked around. He was standing at Bella's table and Frankie was looking up at him with wide, worried eyes.

"Sorry … just tired, I guess," he said. "How are you, Frankie?" She launched into an excited description of a zoo outing. Edward glanced over at Bella, but she was nursing a coffee and looking exhausted. There had been a lot of that lately – whatever her job was (and Edward was willing to bet a week's pay that her main occupation wasn't doing voiceovers), it was taking a lot out of her as of late.

He served brunch, joked with Frankie, and shared the week's news with Bella, like always, but he could feel his resentment simmering in the background.

I just want to know …

Edward handed Bella the bill and, as usual, helped Frankie down from the booth and walked her up to the counter to choose a treat from the big bowl. He lifted her high in the air so she could make her choice. Frankie was chattering about a birthday party she was attending later in the day, and did Mr. Edward like the new dress she was wearing for the occasion?

"You look very sharp, Ms Frankie," he said with a smile, but suddenly, his mind darted off in another direction.

It's wrong.

I don't care.

He set Frankie down carefully on one of the counter stools and then straddled another, facing the little girl. He carefully positioned her so Bella couldn't see her face.

"Hey, Frankie – when's your birthday?"

"December 19," she said, unwrapping the red lollipop she had chosen from the candy bowl. "I'll be seven! Seven, seven, seven!" she chanted. "That's really grown up, you know."

"It sure is," Edward replied, leaning in close with his most dazzling smile. "When's your mommy's birthday?"

"In September," Frankie said around her candy. "September 13. Mommy doesn't have a party, but sometimes she makes a cake."

"I love cake," he said. "Tell me, Frankie – do you know how old your mommy is going to be next month? I want to get her a card and put the right number on it."

Frankie's eyes flew wide open, and her rosebud mouth formed a perfect O with the lollipop stick in the middle.

"Oooooh," she said breathlessly. "Mommy said if you ever asked me that question that I shouldn't answer." She looked scandalized. "You know, that's not a question you should ask a lady. Just like you shouldn't ask if a lady has a baby in her belly, just in case you're wrong."

Edward's heart staggered in his chest as he struggled to keep the horror from showing on his face. For a moment, he contemplated asking Frankie not to tell Bella, but he knew that was even creepier than what he'd just done.

"Um … ah … you're right," he said lamely. "I shouldn't have asked that question." He put on a very contrite face. "I'm sorry for being rude."

"That's okay, Mr. Edward," said Frankie, holding out her arms. He swung her down to the floor, and watched as she skipped back to Bella. They gathered their things and slipped out of their chairs. Face frozen in a smile, he waved to them as they headed out. Bella was looking at him quizzically over her shoulder, like she could tell something was amiss. As a result, their eyes were still locked together when Frankie said something to Bella that made her face go from mild confusion to panic. She froze, jerking Frankie to a stop. Bella knelt in front of her daughter and asked her a question. The little girl's eyes widened as she shook her head no, her brown hair flying.

After what felt like an eternity, Bella raised her head to look at Edward. His fair cheeks burned bright red as she stared at him with disbelief. Before he could move, she jumped to her feet and flew out the door, Frankie stumbling behind her.

Shit.

Edward walked over to Bella's table and picked up the tray. The back of the bill was covered in her writing.

Tip #16: Everything shows on that face of yours. I can feel the tension vibrating off you across the restaurant. Learning to show a calm face to the world, even when you're being eaten up with nerves inside, is one of the hardest lessons in life to learn.

The twenty underneath filled Edward with shame, not excitement. More so when he read what she had written.

You can always talk to me if something's bothering you.

He wasn't sure if this offer was open anymore.

Pasting a smile on his face, Edward went back to work. He took orders and delivered food expertly, making sure not to make a single mistake. Nothing dissolved the hard lump of guilt and embarrassment in his stomach.

At 3:30, he got his lunch break. He stepped out back for a much-needed smoke, and felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. Edward pulled it out with trepidation. It was like being called to the principal's office.

Never do that again, Edward. Not if we're going to stay friends.

Meekly, he keyed in his response.

Im so sorry. It was a relly dumb thing to do. I still want to b ur friend.

He waited a few moments, then the response came back.

OK.

Grinning with relief, Edward leaned against the wall and finished up his smoke.

The Cullen charm saves the day again.

--#--

He turned out to be very wrong.

He knew he had done a bad thing – hadn't he apologized to both Frankie and Bella? Accepted responsibility for his mistake? Being genuinely guilty and contrite?

Edward had been all of those things. Yet nothing was the same anymore.

Bella came in a few more times in August, but always when Edward wasn't around, or the restaurant was so busy that he barely had time to top up her coffee and give her a fast kiss on the cheek. Each time they saw each other and didn't resolve the tension between them, things became more awkward.

It didn't help that Bella was busier than he'd ever seen her. When she was in the diner, she was frequently attached to the end of her BlackBerry, which was forever buzzing for her attention. Jasper said she had spent an entire afternoon in the diner poring over huge sheets of paper, on which she had written many notes. She had shouted at someone on the phone as she did so.

"Shouted," repeated Jasper in disbelief as they shared a cigarette behind the restaurant one afternoon on break. "I didn't think she could shout. I've never even heard her speak loudly before."

"Me neither," said Edward. "I wonder what's going with her."

"You should ask her," advised Jasper. "She must want you to ask. Why else would she bring her work into the restaurant? I mean, she could do that shit at home, right? But she comes here, where you are. She wants you to ask."

Edward looked at him, impressed. "You get that shit from Oprah too?"

"Nope," said Jasper, lighting a second smoke off his first. "I'm just better with women than you are." He puffed for a moment. "Edward, don't you ever wonder why Bella does this?"

"Does what?" he asked blankly. Jasper looked at him hard, as if he wasn't sure Edward was serious. Then he sighed in exasperation.

"Why she tips you like a fucking king and gives you all this free advice and help with your life? Aren't you the faintest bit curious about why, out of all the working class stiffs in Chicago, she picked you?"

"Uhh … no, not really," admitted Edward. "Well, maybe little. But I mean … chicks dig me all the time, right? So at first, I thought she was trying to pick me up. Except that's not what she's doing, see. And now we're like friends."

"Dude," Jasper said, with an air of someone trying one more time to get through. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe Bella is in love with you?"

Edward looked at him for a moment, then shouted with laughter. "No," he snorted. "What are you, stupid?" Jasper let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a strangled laugh. "She's so not in love with me," Edward insisted.

"How do you know?" Jasper asked.

"She never flirts with me, not even a tiny bit. She's never asked me out. Hell, we've never even seen each other outside the restaurant!" Jasper didn't looked remotely convinced, and Edward started to get irritated. "Listen, guy … she jokes with me about my sex life. She met Tanya and was real nice to her. She even offered to fix me up with a family friend. Who does that when they're in love with the guy?"

Jasper stubbed out his cigarette. "Dunno," he said. "Maybe a woman who just got out of a crappy marriage, who has no self-confidence left when it comes to men? A woman who has no idea how to start her life over again?" Edward stared at him, his face creasing into a confused frown. "I'm just sayin' … think about it." With that, Jasper disappeared back into the restaurant.

Edward had only ever dated beautiful girls. Race, religion and political leanings had no impact on his choices. Lack of immediate physical attraction, however, was a show-stopper. There was no point without it, in his opinion.

Sure, he had woken up the night after a sick party to discover a dog in bed beside him. More than once. Every girl looks hot after four or five shots of tequila, right? A quick, quiet exit before she woke up took care of that problem every time.

Had he ever snuck out on a woman like Bella before? A woman with class, intellect and personality who maybe wasn't wrapped in the hottest package going?

Bella was special. Edward loved spending time with her, hearing her talk, sharing stories with her. She listened. She laughed at his jokes. She called bullshit when she heard it. He felt so important when Bella – a wise, rich, successful woman – hung on his every word. She had picked him. Not Jasper or John or any of the other guys. Him, Edward Cullen.

She wasn't beautiful. She was plain. She didn't dress in designer clothes or have her nails done every week. Bella didn't have a killer figure with a boob job and a butt lift from her daddy for her eighteenth birthday. Instead, she had given birth to a baby, and had a little paunch to show for it.

As Edward lay awake that night, he allowed himself to wonder what Bella might be like in bed. Consciously or not, he had never gone there in his mind before, and he wasn't sure how he felt about doing it now.

She would be a considerate partner in bed, he decided. Loving. She would think of his needs too, and not just lie back expecting fireworks. Maybe she'd take the lead sometimes. For a moment, Edward had a vivid image of being tied to the bed while Bella worked him over with her mouth. The thought made him feel horribly guilty and aroused at the same time.

She would know what she wanted and be able to tell him. And he would be able to tell her anything – anything – in bed, without feeling ashamed. Bella would lie beside him, listening intently with her dark eyes fixed on his, while he told her all his fantasies.

She would know a thousand ways to please him, each one more exciting than the last. She would know an equal number of ways to please herself, and would let him watch while she demonstrated. Slowly.

With a groan, Edward pulled his hand away from his hard cock and shook his head furiously. Surely this couldn't be right! Jasper had said to think about it, not jerk off in bed to dirty fantasies of a woman who had shown him nothing but friendship and respect. Ignoring the discomfort down below, Edward punched his pillow a few times, rolled on to his side and closed his eyes.

He woke up the next morning with a guilty conscience, and a sticky mess in his shorts.

--#--

A few days later, Edward had one of his rare days off. He spent it sleeping until his mother finally chased him out of bed in the afternoon to help her carry the groceries inside. Edward assisted, with bad grace. He lugged groceries in the baking heat, then slumped against the side of the house in the shade while his mother exchanged greetings with one of their neighbors, who was vastly pregnant.

"Sorry, dear," said Esme, as she walked back up the drive and opened the door. "Mrs. DeShane is due any day now, and she's worried about the babies.

"Babies," said Edward, thinking. "Does she have more than one in there?"

"Yes," smiled Esme as they unpacked groceries in the kitchen. "She's expecting twins. She's wanted these babies for so long, and she's worried about them in this heat. But she'll be fine, and so will they."

Edward opened a case of Coke and loaded the cans into the holder in the fridge. "Mom, how old are most women when they have babies?"

"Oh," said his mother, stopping for a moment. "Well, that depends. I've delivered some babies to teenagers. The oldest mother I ever delivered was 52, but she was carrying a baby as a surrogate for her daughter, who was unable to have her own children. Most women's best child-bearing years are in their 20s and 30s."

Edward thought this over as he emptied bags and filled the fridge. Bella must be near the end of her child-bearing years. If he got together with Bella – and stayed with her – she probably wouldn't be able to have his baby. That made him feel funny inside. But the next thought that sprang to his mind stopped him in his tracks.

Bella already has a baby. The person she settles down with gets Frankie for their daughter.

--#--

The next day, in the quietest part of the afternoon, Bella came in. She sat down at the counter, and Edward poured her a coffee. Neither of them spoke for a moment.

"Things are busy for you," he finally said.

"Yeah," she said from deep inside her coffee mug. Eventually she emerged. "I'm sorry that things haven't been easy between us these last few weeks. But I'm a mother first and always, Edward."

"I know, and I'm sorry…" But Bella held her hand out, stopping him.

"You already apologized; I wasn't fishing for you to say it again. I'm just trying to help you understand."

Edward wiped the counter, his brow furrowed in thought.

"I understand why you got mad that I tried to use Frankie that way," he said. "But I don't understand why you don't tell me stuff. It feels like, you know, you don't trust me."

"I trust you as much as I can," said Bella. Edward looked at her, feeling like that wasn't much of an explanation. "It's hard for me to trust anyone these days, especially men," she explained. "You know, you're the only male friend I've kept in my life since Marcus left."

"How come you and Marcus got divorced?" asked Edward. Bella's eyes flashed up to his. They were filled with the same panic he'd seen when Frankie had told her that he'd asked about Bella's age. "What?" he asked, lost. "Is it that bad?" A thought suddenly occurred to him. "Did he hit you? Did he?" His face was suddenly fiercely protective.

"No, you dork," said Bella, chuckling. "Marcus never laid a finger on me and never would. He's a kind and gentle man. You know, most marriages don't blow up over something dramatic. There isn't a Big Betrayal, followed by a Heartbreaking Discovery, followed in turn by a Giant Fight in Which One Partner is Thrown Out of the House. That's crap. Most marriages die of neglect, withering away until one day you wake up beside a total stranger. Which is exactly what happened between Marcus and me." Bella stopped. "But that's not something I want to talk to you about."

"See?" said Edward. "You always stop – you never tell me anything important."

"Maybe so," she replied gently. "I guess I don't want you to ever have to know about this stuff in the first place. Or at least, I never want you to learn about these things from me."

"I already know that life isn't all rainbows and unicorns. I'm not a child, Bella. I'm 23. Give me some credit for that at least."

Bella looked at him silently for a moment, then nodded.

"You're right. I apologize for treating you like a child sometimes. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm an extremely private person, Edward." Her face was suddenly blazing with intensity, and she reached across the counter and took his fingers in hers. "This is me. The person you know here, right now, is me."

"I know it's you," he said with a confused smile. "How could you be anyone else?"

"You'd be surprised," Bella said wryly. "Just remember me. Remember who I am."

--#--

A/N: I can now safely say that, amongst all the lovely reviews people have left, at least one person has correctly guessed what Bella does for a living. Now that I'm home from travelling – at least for the next few weeks – I hope to get the next chapter up as soon as possible. Read and review!