Hey everyone! I've been trying to get this out for a while now and it's finally done. Lets hope my writing streak keeps on rolling.
To everyone who's joined the story recently, welcome, and thanks to all the readers for their patients and word of encouragement. I'm getting there I promise.
Happy reading!
Chapter 23 - Friday night and Saturday Morning
I can hear my dad and Edward talking, their voices a quiet murmur that drifts through the closed bedroom door. Edward's apartment isn't terribly big, so background chatter carries down the hallway along with the sound of pots and pans clanging around in the kitchen. Normally, Edward asking if he can cook dinner would send me into a tailspin. However, my mind is full to the brim of whirling thoughts and emotions. My easy acceptance of his offer took both of us by surprise.
On the bed in front of me are my purchases of the day - the first books I've owned in years. Four of them I bought with my shiny card, the other two Charlie insisted on buying for me when he saw me looking at them. They're laid out in a neat row, perfectly in line. I gently run my finger down the edge of one, the hardback copy of Wuthering Heights. The rough feeling of the cover is soothing, bringing back memories of hiding in the dusty stacks of the school library to avoid awkward lunch lines and crowded hallways.
The rest of my collection comprises of two more classics (Pride and Prejudice and Great Expectations), a historical romance, a young adult's dystopian adventure and, finally, a new release thriller.
Something about the last book in the pile unsettles me, the cover dark and gloomy, a weird juxtaposition of a dark purple background with yellow writing. There's an image of an old tree on the edge of a lake, its branches leafless and spindly, and an old wooden swing hangs from one of its branches. I think it's supposed to look mysterious and intriguing but the mediocre design work and questionable choice in colours and fonts kind of ruins the effect.
I'm not sure why I picked this particular book at the store, other than I felt a need to own it like I haven't felt before. Reading the back cover in the bookstore earlier I was struck by the sudden, all-encompassing need possess it. However, as I pick it up off the bed my stomach churns with trepidation. Something's not right about it, but I can't figure out what. The glossy cover feels wrong against my skin, sending shivers down my spine and making my heart beat frantically inside my chest. Anxiety, nausea, discomfort rages through me and I struggle to keep up, to catalogue it all through my muddled brain.
I try to breathe through the onslaught and face the source of all this, a tactic Edward suggests every time I feel overwhelmed, but for now, I know I have to get away from it. Not willing to investigate exactly what I'm feeling and why I place the book on the bed and neatly pile my other new acquisitions on top. Without the book in view I feel better, my heart rate drops and my hands stop shaking. I place the stack on the desk in the corner and retrieve my notebook.
Sitting cross-legged on my side of Edwards - our - bed I grip my emerald green notebook to my chest. I close my eyes and take a breath, willing myself to relax. The last few days have been a whirlwind of settling into my new life, and I feel a bone-deep wariness settle over me. Instead of opening my notebook I curl up on top of the covers, tucking it close to my chest as I let myself relax and rest.
I wake in a foggy haze when Edward calls down the hall that dinner's ready, moving on autopilot as I shake off the aftereffects of my impromptu nap. Edward and Charlie make small talk over dinner and I'm happy to sit and listen as they get to know each other. Also, any extra information about my father helps me continue to get to know the man I thought was dead for most of my life. When a natural lull in the conversation arises, Charlie switches to a subject I've been trying not to think about.
"So, Edward. Bella and I were talking today about her going to talk to someone."
I immediately lose my appetite, shuffling the food around on my plate instead of eating. Edward is watching me closely and I know he can see I'm uncomfortable. He reaches out to grab my hand, rubbing soothing patterns on the back with his thumb as he smiles encouragingly.
"Really? I think that's great." I grip his hand with both of mine, needing to feel grounded for this conversation. "There is a place I know of. It's run by three sisters, daughters of my Dad's work colleague, Eleazer." We've all given up the pretense of eating now. My gaze is fixed on Edward's hand as I turn it over and map out the lines on his palm as his soothing voice washes over me. "Actually I remember overhearing him talking to a nurse in the break room. Her son is having some behavioural issues at school and she was told by his school to take him to a counsellor. He recommended his daughters to her as they specialise in different areas of child development..."
"I'm not a child." My tone is so flat and dead it takes even me by surprise. But this is all starting to sound like something I've experienced before. Doctors talking about me like I'm not there and dictating what happens to me without my consent. It's not going to happen. Not again.
I pull away from Edward, twisting my hands together on my lap out of view. Logically, I know these two men are on my side. They're in my corner, and I know they'll listen to what I have to say. But that doesn't stop the fear rise up from beneath the surface.
"No drugs." It's my first, and biggest, request. Edward goes to reply but I stop him with a shake of my head. "No drugs, no mental hospitals, and if I don't like it I don't have to keep doing it."
Edward takes a breath. "Of course Bella. We would never ask you to do anything you don't want to do. And there will definitely be no more talk of mental hospitals." He releases a deep sigh and goes back to his food. "I just...I know you don't want to go but I think it could really help."
I shovel the last of my food into my mouth to avoid replying straight away, leaving the two of them to finish their own food as I clear my dishes to the kitchen. In an effort to avoid using the dishwasher - the noise irritates me, like a grater to my senses - I get started washing my dishes by hand. So far Edward hasn't questioned this habit of mine. Instead, he usually dries them while I wash.
It's not long before he joins me in the kitchen, stacking the rest of the dishes for me to wash and starting to dry the ones I've already done. We work in silence as I try to process my thoughts, battling with the residual fear that makes my limbs numb and mind fuzzy.
My instinct is to avoid this step as much as possible. The core of my existence has only just recently been completely shattered and reformed for the better, and all I want to do is retreat into my new found sanctuary and ignore everything else. But I know that's not possible. With the possibility of my mother lurking around the place, the anxiety of some of Edward's family members not being entirely accepting and the unknown of what I'm meant to do with my life in general, I know that unravelling some of the secrets about myself and what makes me tick is essential.
And at the end of the day, I know in my heart that these two men would not bring me any harm. And I can trust them to guide me in the right direction.
With a deep breath, I nod.
"OK."
Edward wraps me in a hug and I cling to him, grasping the back of his shirt as he holds me close and drops a light kiss on the top of my head.
"It will be OK, sweetheart. Everything will be just fine."
I don't know who initiated the kiss, but like everything with Edward, it's so easy. When I'm kissing him I feel truly at home. I sink into him, wrapping my arms around his neck. Just when I need to take a breath I hear a loud, slightly obnoxious cough from behind me.
Reluctantly I let go and sheepishly turn to face Charlie. He looks less than impressed with what he's just witnessed but thankfully lets it slide.
"I have to head home to Forks the day after tomorrow. I managed to squeeze a few extra days off but my time's running out. I'd like to go with you to meet these doctors." I stare at his bushy moustache as talks.
"I can make some calls now," says Edward, as he lets go of me and fishes his phone out of his pocket. "I'll see what I can do."
I pout slightly in the passenger seat of Edwards Volvo the following day as we make our way across town in the Saturday morning traffic. A small part of me had foolishly hoped that I'd have enough time before this dreaded 'therapy' session to get out of it before it became an issue. However a small trail of phone calls - to Carlisle, then Eleazar, then his daughters - negated that possibility. I'm not sure I believe that doctors are usually this willing to meet new patients on such short notice and on a Saturday no less. However, if there's one thing I've learnt since meeting Edward it's that nothing can be ruled impossible. He did pull together our Wedding in less than 24 hours.
Every now and then Edward shoots me a hopeful look as he smoothly manoeuvres the car through intersections and busy neighbourhoods. I haven't said a word to him since he got off the phone last night and announced our plans for today. His only (somewhat) comfort is that I also haven't felt the need to say a word to my father, who sits silently in the back. He seems slightly put out that his plan to drive us in his squad car was nixed when I silent stood by the passenger side door of the Volvo and refused to acknowledge his attempts to persuade me otherwise. I'm pretty sure they think I'm in one of my foggy trances, but I feel the childish need to be angry at them for a while longer.
I want to throw a tantrum, even if they don't know I'm throwing a tantrum.
When Edward pulls into a driveway I'm pleasantly surprised. I'd expected a hospital or clinic building. Instead, a sign at the end of a long, curving driveway reads:
HAVEN
Here to lend a helping hand
The driveway is lined with trees and greenery, with colourful flowers scattered intermittently throughout. The splashes of vibrant colour appear to be random, but I also sense an inherent pattern in their placement and colour combinations as we make our way down. As we reach the end of the drive a house comes into view.
My first impression is that it's...quaint. It's an older style villa, two-storey with a wrap around porch and led-light windows. The house is white, but I can see the wooden front door is painted a pale blue. A wrap-around porch encompasses the bottom story, with flower boxes under the windows and by the railings. The whole place looks idyllic and country-like, even though we're in the middle of the city.
Edward brings the car to a stop by the house and he and Charlie climb out. It takes me a little longer, or maybe I'm still just being stubborn. With my notebook tucked under my arm, I reluctantly follow them up the front steps. The door opens as we reach it.
My expectations of creepy old doctors in white coats are dashed immediately as the woman standing before us is neither old, nor creepy, nor wearing a white coat. She's a lot younger than expected, probably only a few years older than Edward. She's dressed casually in jeans and a pinky-orangey coloured flowy top, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. Her face is open and caring, with bright blue eyes and a small smile.
"Welcome!" Her voice is soothing. Firm and confident, yet not so loud or assertive that it bothers me. "You must be Bella," I glance up at her face to see that she is, indeed, addressing me first. I'm used to staying in the background and being ignored, so this is new. I nod in reply, focusing my gaze on the pretty gold necklace she's wearing. It looks like it's a starfish, or maybe just a star. "And you must be Edward." He shakes her hand, then wraps his arm around my waist. It's good to feel him close to me and I try to hold onto that feeling to ground myself.
"Yes, I'm Bella's husband. And this is Charlie, Bella's father." She shakes Charlie's hand too. I never liked the whole handshaking thing. Why would I want to touch someone I don't know? "Welcome to Haven. I'm Doctor Kate Denali. Come on in." She stands aside and we file into the spacious foyer. After closing the door she leads us into a large downstairs area.
Now, this is definitely not what I expected. Almost the entire downstairs has been opened up into one large, open plan space. Each room flows into the next with open archways in between. However, each room has its own design theme. The first room we enter is decorated with bright, primary colours and decked out with soft playmats and bean bag chairs. There are bins of toys by the window and colour posters decorating the walls. All the bright colour give me a bit of a headache. We move through into the next room to find a completely different colour scheme. Instead of riotous colours, this room is decked out completely in black and white. The contrasting monochrome is a lot more soothing for me than the previous room and I feel I can breathe a bit easier in here. There are tables in one corner with boxes of crayons and colouring pencils. In another corner, there are large black and white blocks organised into perfectly straight piles. Everything about this room makes me a lot calmer than the previous, even if all the black and white is a bit bland.
We don't stop here. Instead, Kate leads us along a hallway to the back of the house, into a large sun-drenched kitchen and adjoining living room. Seated around a dining table are two more women who stand as we enter. One is tall with strawberry-blonde hair and striking features. The other is on the short side, her blonde hair cropped to her shoulder and her features are softer. I study them both briefly before looking at my shoes, gripping tighter to Edward.
"Bella, these are my sisters, Tanya and Irina, " They smile in my direction and I nod, glad again that there's no useless handshaking happening. "This is Bella Cullen, her husband, Edward and her father, Charlie." Everyone exchanges niceties around me. Coffee and tea are offered to everyone, and when I don't make a preference Kate offers a glass of water instead. I nod in acceptance, still not keen on speaking up just yet until I get a better feel for these three women - the doctors that don't look like doctors.
To my surprise, we're invited to sit around the table instead of moving to a more formal meeting room or office. I end up sitting across from the three doctors with Edward to my left and Charlie on my right. I fiddle nervously with my notebook on my lap, and I gladly grip onto Edwards' hand when he offers it, clutching it with both hands.
"OK," says Kate, once everyone is settled, "I'm going to start things off a little different from usual. I'll start by explaining a bit about our background and what we do here before we start looking into how we can help you. Is that alright with you, Bella? Do you have any questions before we start?" Again, I'm caught off guard by being addressed so formally. I still expect to be ignored, left in the background while they discuss my various issues with Edward and Charlie. I glance sideways at Edward, then at Charlie, trying to figure out if either of them are going to answer for me. Charlie shifts restlessly in his seat and goes to answer, however, Kate stops him with a gentle shake of her head.
"It's great that the two of you have come here to support Bella, but the main reason we are here is for her. So, Bella, I want you to answer as many questions for yourself as you can." Kate reaches behind her chair, producing a flat rectangular object. As she places it in front of me I see it's a small whiteboard, about the size of a placemat. Along the top are a series of words and phrases. 'Yes', 'No', 'I don't know', 'Thank you'. The middle section is empty and, based on the whiteboard marker that hangs off the corner of the board by a string, I can take a pretty good guess at what it's for. Along the bottom edge is a section titled "How I'm Feeling", which contains a series of cheese cartoon faces depicting different emotions, the descriptions underneath. 'Happy', 'Sad', 'Upset', 'Angry', 'Neutral', 'Uncomfortable'. The last cartoon face looks dazed and blank, with clouds drawn in the air around it. This emotion is apparently referred to as 'In the clouds'.
"You don't have to use this if you don't want to," Kate explains, "But sometimes if you don't feel like talking it can be easier to communicate by other means. So, before we start do you have any questions?"
I hesitate, not sure if what's floating around in my head is something I want to verbalise to so many people. I slowing pick up and uncap the marker, shifting its chunky weight in my hand.
Firstly, I study the faces along the bottom, skipping over the 'Happy' and 'Sad' emotions to get to the more complex ones. What I'm feeling right now is a bit of a jumble, but I try and cover as many bases as possible by circling both 'Upset' and 'Uncomfortable'. I then rest the tip of the pen in the blank middle section with a slightly shaky hand and slowly write the only thing that comes to mind.
Can you fix me?
Wish me Luck on my PhD guys. I got a long road ahead of me. Thanks for reading and hope you're enjoyed the story so far!
Happy new year!