Lighthouse in the Storm Chapter 2 - The Keeper, a twilight fanfic

FAGE Six Pack

Title: Lighthouse in the Storm

Written for: mama4dukes

Written By: Bell 1 (Aunt Bell)

Chapter Word Count (minus A/N): 5,551

A/N: For my mama4dukes's sake, I am taking creative license with what a certain university offers for their majors. I hope you enjoy this fic written for you and I hope you enjoy this pairing. ;)

An extra special thanks to hlsmithfor their beta work, to MarieCarro her amazing banner work and patience, and finally to hlsmith and MarieCarro for their help with pre-reading. Thank you also readingmama (vampmama) for managing this gift exchange through writing.

Unfortunately, I did not create these characters, but thanks to Stephenie Meyer I am allowed to play with them for my enjoyment and mold them to my imagination.

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Chapter Two – The Keeper

BPOV

Today has been an exhausting day. Between meetings with the bank and the Washington State Small Business Development Center as well as running my cozy little bakery in Forks, my days are filled from pre-dawn to dusk. Trying to remodel the building in order to accommodate the ever-growing popularity and sales is becoming quite a project. It has been successful enough to put the business in the black since the one-year anniversary, quite the feat for a new business.

For the past three years, word has spread about Chief's Little Swan, my bakery and café; a name I chose to honor my father. A name he treasures.

At first I wanted to name it Chief Swan Bakery and Café, but he wouldn't hear of it. He wanted it to reflect, in his words, "his beautiful, talented daughter". I told him I would work on another name. When I revealed the name at the opening, tears formed in his eyes seconds prior to giving me the biggest hug. Before anyone else could see, he excused himself for a few minutes. When he came back, he was gushing with pride. I have never seen him talk as much as he did that day, though it was all about how great his daughter is. My face maintained a slight flush throughout the day.

Charlie never misses an opportunity to boast, or recommend the bakery.

Any new item I consider selling is made and sampled by my "taste test panel", consisting of my father, his deputies, and my friends at the Quileute reservation. For a small fraction of the profits, I also make something for the diner and each of the restaurants in town because I do not wish to force them out of business, anything from fresh made bread to desserts. This is a small town and we need to work together, rather than against each other to keep away animosity amongst the business owners.

Any baked goods leftover at the end of the day are picked up the next morning by Pastor Baldwin for the Port Angeles churches with programs to help the needy. There is also a list on the front window of the businesses that carry products from the bakery for after hours, or the long waits. The increased traffic greatly benefits all the businesses throughout town, including the grocery store and Newton's Outfitters.

I also found someone to build, maintain, and update a website for me, showcasing all my various creations. There is even a price list for the regular items and an order form for anyone wishing to have something shipped to them. Orders have been sent out all over the United States and a few international requests to Canada and France.

The price for the website service can't be beat either. They only thing they ask is a personal shipment of various Chief's Little Swan baked goods to Massachusetts once a month.

Since the opening, requests have been pouring in several months in advance for weddings, graduations, and various parties, big and small. The earliest openings are eighteen months from now. I have been asked a number of times if I would ever consider expanding to Port Angeles, Seattle, Portland, California, and even several Midwest states.

Today is January 20th and the fourth anniversary of opening day. The profits have allowed me to look into other options. I believe the best way to start is to remodel the current building to allow more space. However, my father has been talking me into the possibility of expanding to other locations, which brings us to

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Chapter Two – The Keeper

BPOV

For the past three years word has spread about Chief's Little Swan, my bakery and café; a name I chose to honor my father. A name he treasures.

At first I wanted to name it Chief Swan Bakery and Café, but he wouldn't hear of it. He wanted it to reflect, in his words, "his beautiful, talented daughter". I told him I would work on another name. When I revealed the name at the opening, tears formed in his eyes seconds prior to giving me the biggest hug. Before anyone else could see he excused himself for a few minutes. When he came back he was gushing with pride. I have never seen him talk as much as he did that day, though it was all about the greatness of his daughter. My face maintained a slight flush throughout the day.

Charlie never misses an opportunity to boast, or recommend the bakery.

Any baked goods leftover at the end of the day are picked up the next day by Pastor Baldwin for the Port Angeles churches with programs to help the needy. There is also a list on the front window of the businesses carrying products from the bakery for after hours, or the long waits. The increased traffic greatly benefits all the businesses throughout town, including the grocery store and Newton's Outfitters.

The price for the website service can't be beat either. They only thing they ask is a personal shipment of various Chief's Little Swan baked goods to Massachusetts once a month.

I employ recently graduated students of culinary arts out of University of Washington based on specific requirements and recommendations from professors. Therefore, it makes sense to open a location in Seattle to allow current students better access to gain experience through internships and part time work.

All the work over these years has cost me though. I have not only lost my best friend, but now her brother, the man I have secretly loved since I first met him when I was seventeen. At five years his junior, I am nothing more than a friend of his kid sister, even though it feels like more to me.

Though my crush began from the first brief moment I met him over one Thanksgiving weekend, it wasn't until the last semester of my high school senior year I was able to spend any real time around him. A lot of time was spent at their house then because he was home from college for the semester. I silently drooled over him from afar. Not just for his looks either, although his looks were definitely something to be desired.

Knowing Alice, it was due to her "feelings" from one of her supposed precognitive moments; she arranged one of the best afternoons of my life, doing everything in her power see it through. She wasn't pushy about it, but I could tell she was up to something. In fact, it is how I began getting to know him.

It is the first weekend in February. I am sitting in the dining room, which looks into the living room, working on my homework after Alice left me alone to run a quick errand. I'm betting the errand has a name too, Seth Clearwater, my childhood friend from the reservation and a year older. Her older brother is resting in the living room watching something on television, a break from his normal game playing on one of the many consoles.

Ever since he came back home to recover from a recent injury I have been smitten. Even immobile he is mouthwatering and desirable. If I were to wrap my small hands around either of his biceps, I'm sure my fingers wouldn't even touch. From here I can see the tight, black t-shirt accentuating his pectoral and adnominal muscles enough to show off a very toned and physically fit upper body. Though I have never kissed anyone before, I imagine his full, kissable lips molding with mine and nibbling the cupid's bow of his upper lip.

Irrational jealously sparks as I recall Alice telling me of all his admirers. How many women have had the privilege of feeling his warm lips possess theirs? Were the kisses full of passion? Tenderness? Love? Need? Along this same train of thought, how many have felt his strong arms wrap around them? Has he been intimate with all of them? I shake myself out of those thoughts. It's not as if I will ever be a contender in that ring. I'm not even on the roster.

Normally there is someone else in the house, but Mr. and Mrs. McCarty, Killian and Flora, are out of town this week at a business conference. I am both excited and nervous to be alone with the tall and athletic man. Concentrating on my homework is a struggle knowing he is only a few yards away. Every sense within me seems to be charged by his very presence.

"What is the little sprite up to?" Emmett says.

"Huh?" I ask, completely tuned into his every move and sound. When he speaks it is usually with his parents or his sister, so I am thrown off by him addressing me.

"My sister. What is she up to? Why would she bring you here only to leave again moments later?" I shrug. "Hmmm."

I hear him struggling to get off the couch. Rushing over I do my best to help him, but he decides to readjust his position instead. "Did you need me to get you something?"

"Nah. I was just going to join you in the dining room because I figured you couldn't hear me very well in there."

"Oh. No, I heard you, I was just startled because…" I don't want to give him the truth and admit he has never really conversed with me before, so I give him a partial truth. "I was concentrating on my homework assignment."

"Ah, well, please don't let me bother you."

"It's okay. I should really take a break anyway." I sit in the chair opposite the couch. There is no way I can focus now knowing he is actually speaking with me.

"If you're sure," he verifies.

In a slight daze I simply nod.

"Okay. I was saying I just cannot figure out what Alice is doing bringing you here and leaving so quickly. Why not take you home?"

"She told me something about no one being home and needing someone to be here in case you needed help with something, like getting off the couch." I finish with a smirk.

"Touché." He smiles widely with a twinkle in his eyes. "What are you working on?"

I groan. "Biology. We have a test at the end of this week. And I just cannot seem to grasp anything within this class, even though we are given exactly what will be on the test. All we have to do is memorize the material."

"That sounds easy enough. Do you have Mr. Marks?"

Again I nod.

"Hmmm. I see. His tests are mostly vocabulary, right?"

Here I go nodding again as though my mouth doesn't work. I'm starting to feel like one of those head bobbing dolls.

"Why do you think you are having trouble with the material?"

"I can't seem to keep the terminology straight. So many words look and sound alike and the meanings are so close together; I tend to mix them up on the tests."

"Have you tried using picture flash cards?"

"No. I just keep going over the terms."

"Okay. I know my mom kept everything in my room as I left it, well, unless there are dirty clothes, or other things left on the floor. She's pretty meticulous about keeping all rooms in the house clean." He snickers.

Based on his mischievous and spirited personality, I would guess he enjoys messing with his mom by purposely leaving things lying around in there.

"If that is the case, there should be a box on a shelf in my closet marked 'Biology'. You're welcome to borrow them."

"Okaaay." I hesitate. "I'll ask your sister to get them for me when she returns."

"No need. I trust you. Besides, there isn't anything up there worth stealing anyway, unless you are into Playboys©." Seeing my instant shock, he laughs boisterously. "Go ahead. The box should be on the top shelf. You should know where the small stepladder is located."

I nod and head up the stairs toward the last room on the right, but stop in his Alice's room to grab her stepladder. Her parents bought her one because she tends to fill her large closet from floor to ceiling with clothes, shoes, and other fashion items. With her four foot ten inch frame she needs the assistance to reach things in there.

When I reach his room, it is filled with sports trophies and memorabilia on the walls. I know Emmett went to University of Washington on a football scholarship studying to be a teacher and a coach. Even though he grew up in Washington, his top choice national team is the Kansas City Chiefs, so his room is covered in Chiefs items.

Straight ahead to the right of the large window is a tall king-size bed. The bedspread is black with the KC Arrowhead symbol toward the foot. There is a matching black designer pillow between two red pillows. One red pillowcase has the arrowhead symbol with 'CHIEFS' written across the top and a pinwheel of white stripes from the center widening in various sizes as they get toward the edge. The other is basically the same thing, only it has a football helmet with the KC arrowhead symbol on it. The curtains are black with the KC arrowhead symbol on the valance.

The tall, six-drawer dresser is along the wall, inches from the open door and a couple feet away from the foot of the bed. To the left of the door, I notice a tall and wide bookshelf in the corner with a lot of books, varying genres and types. On the opposite side of it next to the window is a large roll-top oak desk with eight bottom drawers.

Curiosity gets the best of me. Bypassing the two doors between the desk and the room entryway, I go to the roll-top and open it. There are thirty-five drawers in varying sizes, with some vertical slots containing green folders and large envelopes in between drawers on the sides and the center. In the center is an open area, one horizontal section with a few papers and another with some CD and DVD cases. It is a beautiful and well-maintained piece of furniture.

Not wanting to spend too much time dilly-dallying I gently close the roll-top again and head to the closet, second door left of the desk. Passing the en suite bathroom door I enter the small walk-in closet, easily finding the box. It is a large blue and gray shoebox with a white piece of paper on the front with "Biology" written in black marker.

I can't help looking for the shoe size… FOURTEEN! Oh my! My imagination slips into overdrive based on the common expression among teenage girls.

Composing myself and shaking the inappropriate, teen hormone-driven thoughts, I close the door behind me, leaving his room and returning the step ladder. Coming down the last few steps I see his strong, firm back muscles flex under his t-shirt as he shifts on the couch.

"This one, right?" I ask while walking around the couch to stand in front of him and gaze into his deep blue eyes.

"Yep! Let's get started. What chapter is your test?"

I tell him and am surprised to find the flash cards aren't simply drawn out, but have real photos and are laminated. For the rest of the afternoon he helps me study until my father calls to check when I will be home just as Alice strolls through the door, all smiles.

"Let's get you home."

Emmett and I look at her, befuddled. How could she have timed it so precisely? "I'll be home in five minutes, Dad."

"See you soon, Little Swan." I laugh at his nickname for me and hang up.

That day was the best of my life up to then. Throughout the semester I would see him whenever I went to their house, but it wasn't anything like the first afternoon. Though he was very serious in his tutoring, his sparkling personality came through as he found ways to help me understand. His eyes would twinkle every time I answered correctly the item I previously missed, the excitement shining through as though the sun drew its power from him.

The more time I spent at the McCarty's, the better I got to know Emmett, only serving to strengthen my crush. By the end of the semester I learned so much about him that no other male measured up.

I compared all of them to what I deem to be the perfect specimen. They aren't jovial, witty, or carefree enough. They don't have the right balance of seriousness and playfulness. Overall, the wrong mix of tenderness, caring, courteousness, support, happiness, passion, nobility, and virtue with his fun loving personality.

Excitement flooded me when the full scholarship announcement came with my acceptance into Syracuse University. My father had been an Orangeman since he was a child when his father moved them across country in order to attend his first choice school for the Engineering Administration Program.

My Grandpa Swan loved architecture and knew it inside and out. After four years, he became the Landscape Designer for the Chase Tower in Rochester, New York.

John Graham & Company was so impressed with his work they offered him the Design Manager position for the Seattle downtown skyscraper located at 901 Fifth Avenue. The following year, he became the Architectural Historian at Bassetti Architects.

After Charlie's tenth birthday, Grandpa Swan opened his own business as a Historical Preservation Specialist, Architectural Historian, and Landscape Designer. They moved back to Forks six weeks later.

When June rolled around, I realized I wouldn't get to see Emmett as often, if ever, again because he was ready to go back to UW and finish his bachelor's degree. After he left, it tore me apart.

There were no goodbyes, or promises to keep in touch. He did have some yellow carnations, pink orchids, larkspurs, asters, and camellias sent with a thank you card. The inside was blank except for a handwritten message:

Bella,

I want to you to know how much I appreciated your company these past months. Your pure heart and friendship has meant the world to me.

I know you will excel in SU and become an infamous baker. My mouth is already missing your sweet treasures.*wiggles eyebrows*

Being able to help you go from a "C" minus in Biology to an "A" really helped me build my teaching skills, experience, and confidence while reaffirming my desire to teach.

Even though you will be on the other side of the country, please know I cherish your friendship and will hold all you did for me close to my heart.

Best wishes,

Emmett McCarthy

P.S. I will hunt down any boy who breaks, or tarnishes your heart of gold.

I still have that card containing dried flowers, one of each flower type, encased in wax paper. Thankfully, I have never tested his warning because few boys ever made it beyond the first date. Those who did, never made it more than three months due to their impatience with the exception of Ben Cheney.

Dad's warning, about young males wanting only one thing has proven accurate. Since childhood he has ensured I understand the difference between good touches and bad touches, especially to what he still refers to as my "special places". When I was twelve he began teaching me self-defense techniques for boys who ignore the word "no".

Charlie has been a cop long enough to know how teens behave these days. Besides he was young once. He doesn't expect me to be abstinent, but encourages me to make better choices than he did by waiting until marriage. It would honor him for me to treasure myself, and my body, enough to not offer it to just any male because he sweet-talks me.

By telling me the importance of recognizing and finding the right guy, he shows me how valuable I am to him, thus helping me recognize it within myself. Someone who treats his princess as a precious gift with respect and love, who will wait until the end of time if this is how long it takes to offer myself in an intimate way.

EmPOV

It's the first day of school in my third year teaching and second year as head coach for the Vikings. Football practices began a month ago, so I am familiar with the young men on the team and look forward to meeting the rest of my students. Teaching and coaching have been my dream since I was in seventh grade, after being a professional football player of course.

Unfortunately, all dreams of being a professional player ended the day I crashed my jeep while off-roading my senior year of college. At twenty-two I knew better than to listen to my buddies, but I caved to the peer pressure and drank a couple beers before getting behind the wheel an hour later.

It was just one slip of control, but it cost me the future I desired and my contract with the Kansas City Chiefs. They were looking forward to turning the next season around and possibly even making it as far as the semi-finals. I was the top pick for Tight End and in the top five for Outside Linebacker during my final year of college football. Thankfully no one else was injured due to my insistence to fasten their harnesses before starting the vehicle.

We have a little over an hour before sunset, but it is time to leave before we can no longer see where we are going. Jasper will kill me if we have to camp here overnight because his girl's flight arrives at six, two and a half hours from now.

Still feeling the buzzing effect of my two beers, I ensure the security and accuracy of my inebriated friends' buckles before haphazardly fastening my own harness.

"Come on Emmett, punch it." My friends holler in their drunken state.

"Alright, you asked for it. I hope your jewels are secured in place, or you might be out of commission when you see your women tonight." I laugh at them. Without fail they all become single-minded, hormone-driven sex maniacs whenever alcohol enters their system.

Peter and Makenna met at a Habitat for Humanity build our first year. She was studying to be a software developer, which compliments his computer programmer field. She was able to calm his exuberant, wisecracking personality while he helped bring her out of her shy, timid nature. They have been going strong since.

Jasper doesn't see his woman often, especially during football season. When he left for UW Bree was still in high school and started Concordia University in Austin, Texas two years later. Her parents wouldn't allow her to visit him while she was still in high school, but now she will fly to Seattle to spend some time with him whenever possible, which isn't often between August and December.

Edward and I are the only single men in the group with our fair share of admirers. Edward's father, a pastor, would be turning over in his grave if he knew the things his son does now. Ever since Mr. Mason died of an aneurysm, Edward has lived with the philosophy that life is too short. Therefore, he beds any high-maintenance "arm candy" he can; his words, not mine.

Whereas, I would rather be in a relationship than to whore myself out. I have only been intimate with three women, but I only count the last two.

Jessica and I were sixteen and had been dating for six months before we decided to take the next step. It was the most embarrassing moment of my young life. Not only was it at the homecoming dance after party, but the bedroom door was left unlocked. We didn't know the "sock rule" to let others know the room was occupied.

Let's just say when the door burst open, I did as well; only seconds after sliding my hot dog into the bun. After that night, Jessica immediately lost interest in me and ended our relationship. No tears were shed at the loss of our relationship, but I became known as "quicksilver". Well, until I began dating Katie Marshall before Christmas break anyway. By prom, I was "G-master".

Katie was a beautiful redhead with natural flowing curls to her shoulder blades; when straight, reached the middle of her back. I loved everything about her, even the cute little freckles scattered along the center of her nose to the apples of her cheeks. I was drawn in by her sweet, genuine nature and baby blues.

We dated through the rest of high school and parted amicably; knowing long distance relationships rarely work out. Truth be told, we may have worked well together, but our interests and goals were completely opposite. She didn't want to be involved with any professional athlete or celebrity and I wasn't going to give up my dream to play in the NFL.

Sophomore year of college I dated Rachel Black, but the relationship lasted long enough for her to gain bragging rights of having dated and slept with Emmett McCarthy. After an eight-week ordeal, I decided to concentrate on my studies and football, in that order. Knowing full well it takes only one play to potentially end a professional football career, I want a secure backup plan.

My reflective thoughts are broken as I make a hard left jerk of the wheel. Unfortunately it happens a split second after the right front wheel goes over the rock edge, causing the jeep to begin tumbling the remaining one hundred feet to the bottom. Eruptions of mixed sounds fill the interior, fright, surprise, and all out shock.

Fortunately, we only flip three times down the side of the mountain, but on the second roll my harness snaps and I am thrown out, hitting my left side on a rock's edge and rolling down. The jeep lands on its side and crashes hard on top of me, settling with my legs pinned underneath it.

I pass out shortly after.

"Emmett, man, can you hear me?" I hear Peter's worried voice through my cloudy head. My eyes flutter open, but close immediately from the bright light shining into my eyes. "Hey, buddy, welcome back. We were starting to get worried."

I moan and slowly blink my eyes open, noticing the sun has set and a fire crackling to my right. "How –" I am cut short with by a sudden round of ferocious coughing. My throat is scratchy and sore and breathing feels like a new torture.

"Here, drink some water." Edward says as he holds the bottle over my lips. I grab the bottle from him with the my right arm, the only one not feeling like an ax cut it off, and eagerly begin to drink before he takes it from me. "Slowly, Emmett, we don't want to shock your system by taking in too much too fast." I nod and wait as he gently brings it back, pouring small amounts at a time.

When my throat no longer feels like I am swallowing needles, I ask, "How long was I out?"

Jasper answers, heavy with his southern twang. "About forty minutes. We worked together to lift the jeep and pull you free." It's when I notice my legs are no longer pinned, though the pain is still excruciating.

"I don't know how you did it, but thanks. I owe you one."

They all scoff. I give them a look of confusion. They go on to explain. While Edward cared for me, Peter went for help since there aren't any cellular signals here. Jasper assisted Edward, gathering wood to build a fire, water, and the emergency supplies from the jeep.

"If you hadn't insisted we strap ourselves in, we could have been hurt as bad as you… or worse." Peter states. A cross between gratitude, horror, and relief overcomes me.

"Anytime." I laugh, but start coughing again. Peter hands me his water bottle.

"Don't…" Edward starts with a sharp tone before his throat catches and sorrow washes over his expression. "Don't laugh this off, Emmett." The look on his face could rival my father when he scolded me as a child. "While you have suffered multiple injuries, we came through this not only with our lives, but also unscathed. In addition, we could have lost you." The light from the flickering flames catches the wetness suddenly pooling within his eyes, most likely remembering the sudden loss of his father. "None of us can even fathom the thought of losing someone we care for as a blood brother. I think I speak for all of us when I say we are forever in your debt."

Both Jasper and Peter agree.

Even the shortness of breath isn't going to detour me from telling them, "Alright guys… I appreciate your gratitude… but my parents always taught me… to ensure the safety of my passengers before… cranking the engine…. However, I also knew better than… to cave into peer pressure when I… am the dezo. Therefore, I… take full responsibility for my own actions, so… I won't hear any more talk of being in my debt… Got it?"

They don't respond. I choose to drop it. They know my position on the subject, and I know their viewpoint. I drift off again shortly after; against Edward's advice and effort to keep me awake, but no matter how hard I fight, it feels like a losing battle. Edward is a pre-med student and cares for me until help arrives.

It is another hour before we are rescued and rushed to the nearest hospital. The entire time I drift back and forth between states of consciousness.

"If you boys hadn't pulled your friend out from under the jeep when they did, he would have lost both his legs from the extended loss of circulation." The rescue team tells us. Gratitude washes over me for Edward and Jasper's knowledge of survival tactics. If not for them, my dream to play professional football would have ended.

I end up with a broken fibula in my right leg, a broken ulna in my left arm, a broken rib, a punctured left lung, internal injuries, and a fractured skull.

Though I made a full recovery, it wasn't without setbacks. As luck would have it, my body went into shock. I spent a month in the hospital due to complications.

The doctors had hoped, based on my physical health, my left kidney would recover on its own after the internal bleeding surgery. However, tests showed it wasn't recovering properly and needed to be removed, thus ending my football career.

Unfortunately, life moved on around me. My friends drifted away after they graduated. Beginning their lives outside of college and scattered throughout the country. Jasper moved back to his home state of Texas as a Geologist, Edward to University of Michigan for his PhD. Peter with his fiancée, Makenna, moved to her hometown of Readville, Massachusetts where he became the new starting Inside Linebacker for the New England Patriots. Each of them spent as much time with me as they could before they had to leave.

The accident happened at the end of the football season, but time in the hospital and the long recovery forced me to delay my final semester of college. Fortunately, since I fulfilled the football requirements of my full scholarship, the school allowed me to furlough until the fall semester. I spent my time recovering at my parents' place.

Looking back has never been something I spent time doing before. Sure, there are the occasional memory lane moments, both happy and sad, but they are usually in fun and joy. When we miss someone, remembering a great person is about the good times we used to share. Even the sad memories are happy ones, but I have never really lost anything of major importance to also change my future.

I have never been the type of person to let things get me down, but I've also always had friends to keep me distracted. Never wanting to show weakness, I learned to push back how I feel inside, put on a brave face, and simply enjoy life with the people around me. Friends have always been a large part of it.

Without anything or anyone to focus my attention, I slip into a slightly depressive state and begin to reflect. I came so close to living my dream, even signing the contract with KC. After losing my kidney following the accident, this aspiration was over. Though I ensured I would have a backup plan, it interfered with my plans. I really wanted to pursue my talent in a professional capacity before settling down and working with teenagers.

I am suddenly pulled from my pensive state. "Good morning, Mr. McCarthy."

"Good morning, Monica. How many times am I going to have to ask you to call me Emmett?" I laugh when she blushes.

"Sorry, Mr. Emmett." She says as she takes her seat in the second row next to the windows.

Shortly following, all the students are in their seats, the warning bell rings, and class begins, but the thoughts of Bella are strong. The last time I saw her was Alice's wedding the summer before last. Not having heard from her since, I miss her. She has been fast tracking her college classes in order to graduate this December and move back.

I admire her drive and the positive outlook she has on life. She isn't like many women I have encountered. Bella is benevolent, honest, compassionate, easy going, a good listener, and patient. I only wish her positive attitude would include her self-image. The beauty within is also in the packaging, but she sees herself as less attractive than practically every other female around her. Fortunately, it doesn't detour her enthusiasm and drive to succeed.

While recovering, for a few hours in the afternoons and some weekends I became happy, content, and most of all distracted. As though there is an energy projecting from her, one cannot help getting wrapped up in it. It was during this time I could see her and practice my teaching skills too. The added bonus of spending more time with Bella is I began feeling better. Something about her seems to cast away the shadows and worries, helping me to refocus and realize how fortunate I really am.

Bella is a beacon of light in my dark waters. She guides me through the roughness toward warmth and safety, as a lighthouse does for ships at sea.

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A/N – I really hope mama4dukes enjoys this fic written for her.

dezo = slang for designated driver

Posted: 10-17-13