Chapter 4

The More I See You

It was almost one week before Edward saw Isabella again, but that wasn't for lack of trying. On Saturday he left Forks with heavy feet. The few minutes he'd had alone with Isabella were not nearly enough. After they'd finished the tea and muffins, he and Isabella had gone to the backyard where she had shown Edward Chief Swan's prized possession; his rusty orange International pick-up that he'd been spending months fixing.

"It takes up all his free time. It's like his baby."

"Yeah, some guys are like that."

"You're not?"

"No. My T-Bird's in good shape. It's a hand me down from Carlisle and, like your Dad, that was his baby."

"Yeah. I recognized it when you pulled up next to the bus last night. Dr Cullen has given me a lift home in that car once or twice before he got the sedan."

"So you knew who I was?" He smirked, knowing that her disinteret of yesterday was a pretense.

"Yes, of course. You're well known around here. The whole team talked about crushing you guys and James was especially looking forward to bringing you down off your pedestal."

"Yeah, as you can see it didn't work. James Anders is a di...jerk. Can't play for shhh… nothing."

Isabella looked away from him and rolled her eyes, Edward saw the quick movement and frowned. "And then your Aunt Esme couldn't stop talking about you this summer. 'Edward this and Edward that'. To tell you the truth I was sick and tired of hearing your name." she snickered.

Edward was taken aback. No girl, at least none that he knew of, ever talked about him like this. She wasn't fluttering her eyes, or talking soft and sweet, she wasn't acting interested in him. At all. What the H E double toothpicks!

Right then Esme had come to the back door. "Edward." She called out. "We have to get going. I have to meet Mrs. Vance and don't you have to get back to PA for practice."

He glanced at his wristwatch, realizing he'd have to rush to make it back in time. He'd never been late to a practice before and he didn't want to let coach down. "Nice talking to you Isabella. I may be back in Forks soon. I'll stop by."

"Yeah, I'll be here, just waiting around." She said. And he wasn't quite sure, but he thought he detected a tight note of sarcasm in her tone. He had no time to ponder it as he and Esme hurriedly said their good-byes and left.

After evening practice he lay in his bed that night, toying with the coiled cord of his telephone, contemplating how best to arrange seeing her again. He had no idea why Isabella intrigued him, she just did. The next morning he woke up unusually early, in time to go have Sunday breakfast with his father at their favorite diner. He found Edward Sr. standing at the kitchen counter staring out the window at the slate blue sky, looking like the loneliest man on earth.

"Hey Dad," Edward greeted him as he wandered into the kitchen, reaching for the percolator. "is everything okay?"

Edward Sr. turned sky blue eyes towards his son. "Fine, fine. I was just looking at the apple tree that your mom planted when we bought the house." He mused out loud. "It was not more than a twig, only about two feet high when we planted it. I tried to get her to buy a bigger one, but she wanted it because it was the only granny smith left. And she planned to make apple pies with the fruit. She told me that those were the only apples to make apple pies with. But the damn tree wouldn't bear fruit until she was gone." He choked out a laugh.

"Anyway, I was marveling at how big it's gotten, just like you. She would have been proud of that tree and of you son. I don't often tell you, but you're my pride and joy, you know that?"

"I know Dad. You never let me forget how much you love me."

"Good, cause I do, more than anything." He squeezed his son's shoulder and smiled into his eyes. Then he turned back to look at the apple tree in the back yard. "Anyway, I was second guessing myself." He said softly. "I'm not sure I want to sell this place, after all. I think Elizabeth's spirit is here. I know that it's fanciful, but sometimes I think that she has become the house and that the house is her. And I don't want to let it go." He took a sip of his coffee.

Edward suddenly saw his father with new eyes. He was no longer the businessman forever in three piece suits, rushing to meetings, wheeling and dealing in finances. Instead he remembered a picture he had seen on his father's dresser, it was a photo of his mother and father when they had first met. He remembered the image of his father as a young man, a student, a poet, a romantic, a boyfriend, a lover. The image of him lying on the grass in the quad, while fellow students lolled or strolled to classes, his head in his girlfriend's lap as they spoke in hushed tones. And he wondered at the man who for years chose to concentrate on his son and his career and nothing else. He was for the very first time curious about the man his father had been, long ago.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Tell me about you and mom, how you met?"

He turned his head to Edward and blinked a couple of times, a slow smile started at the corners of his mouth as his thoughts wandered back to years gone by. He smiled as he spoke. "Oh, it's the typical story. I saw her in Washington Square Park walking with her friends. She was beautiful and I followed her to lunch. I sat near them and I liked everything about her, her voice, her sense of humor, her laughter. After that I took every opportunity to run into her. I found out that she worked part time at the University's book store and before long I was in there every day. I'd ask her about books on sale and what she was reading. Our first date was at the soda shoppe nearby and that was that. We were the clichéd college love story, nothing special." He smiled as he looked down and reverently touched the gold band on his ring finger. "Just the ordinary everyday romance; everything about it was ordinary, except for her." His head came up and he looked into the carbon copy of the green eyes he had fallen in love with more than twenty years before. "She was the only thing that was extra ordinary." He said. "There was nothing ordinary about Elizabeth Masen. She was bright and beautiful and funny and special and meant just for me."

"I'm sorry, Dad. Sorry she's gone."

"Well son, I had her for a while and that's more than many people ever have. Then I had you. In many ways you remind me of her, you know. There's a lot of her in you. You have her eyes and her auburn hair. You have her charisma, her ability to captivate anyone and everyone. And you have her quiet soul. She was contemplative, as you are. She was a great planner. She was almost never impulsive, except when it came to getting married." Edward Sr. let out a chuckle. "Do you know we eloped?"

"No." Edward was more than a little curious to hear about this side of his parents.

His father laughed again, Edward thought that he seemed almost giddy with the memory. "I took her out to dinner for her birthday, and popped the question when I was walking her back home. We stayed up all that night talking of the future on the front stoop in front of her apartment. When the sun came up we were both a little crazy from lack of sleep and I suggested that we take the greyhound bus from Port Authority up to Niagara Falls and get married right away. Amazingly she agreed. We slept on the bus and as soon as we got there we got our license. There was a mandatory twenty-four hour wait that we knew nothing about but then we got married as soon as we could. Five days later, when we got back to New York, we were man and wife.

"Cliched, Dad? Doesn't sound like it to me, it sounds exciting and frantic and happy.

"Yes, it was all that. That's probably the craziest thing I've ever done in my whole life, but it's also the best decision I ever made. Your mother was one in a million." He sighed.

"Dad , do you ever think about getting married again?"

"Nah! I'm forty-three, an old man, who would want me?" He shook his head and laughed.

"I don't know, Miss Stevens asks about you a lot. As a matter of fact, lots of the women in town ask me about you."

"Uh. Well to tell you the truth, I'm not interested."

"How about, you know, dating? Don't you think you could like go on a date or something?"

His father sat on one of the kitchen chairs and leaned back in the seat, tipping it on its back legs. "How can I put this, son? I don't date because most women have thoughts of settling down; I have no interest in that. But I see women; women I like, women who like my company."

"You mean sex?"

"Yes. I have sexual relationships."

"With who?"

"Whom."

"Okay, with whom."

"Edward, I owe them my discretion so I won't divulge their names. But don't worry about me, son. I'm not lonely for female company."

"Oh." Edward understood. His Dad was lonely, but for one person in particular.

"How about you?" His dad asked as he picked up his cup again, his sharp blue eyes watching.

"What about me?"

"Are you …seeing someone? I haven't seen you with anyone since Angela Weber, and that was months ago."

"I haven't really had the time. What with football and my homework, I've been busy you know."

"That never stopped you before."

"Yeah well… Have you spoken to Carlisle recently?"

"Yes."

"Sooo. Has he said anything about me?"

"Like what Edward?"

"Like um, me going over there yesterday."

"Well he mentioned that you stopped by, but he told me to ask you about it."

"He did, huh?"

"Uh huh." His eyebrows raised in a questioning arc.

"Well to tell you the truth Dad. I …I"

"Uh huh?"

"I drove over to Forks to see a girl."

"What girl?"

"Isabella Swan."

"Swan? Is she related to Chief Swan?"

"Yes. She's his daughter."

"I didn't know Charlie had a daughter!"

"Yes, well, apparently she's been living with her mother back east somewhere."

"Interesting."

"Yes, very. So anyway, I went to Forks to see if I could you know, accidentally, on purpose run into her. And Esme told me that she's been helping Esme out with a few things."

"Like what?"

"Homey stuff, cooking and canning and what not."

"So, did you?"

"Did I?"

"Did you accidentally, on purpose run into the young lady?"

"Mmhmm. Esme took me over there to deliver a basket of preserves. And I met Chief Swan and Isabella."

"So you hadn't met Isabella before?"

"Not formally. She was at the game on Friday night. Cheerleading. I stopped and talked with Forks' quarterback and she was with him."

"With him?"

"Yes, standing next to him, while I talked to him."

"His girlfriend?"

"Uh no. I asked and she said no. But he said that she was."

"So, basically, you couldn't resist the challenge."

"Well, that might have been a part of it. A small part of it. Truthfully I'd noticed her before the game started."

"Pretty girl?"

"Beautiful."

"How old is she?"

"Sixteen."

"Huh, be careful there. Chief Swan's a tough guy."

"Believe me I know. He gave me the talk."

"And?"

"I want to go to Forks again. Today."

"Maybe I'll go along and visit my brother. Haven't seen him in a dog's age."

#

Father and son arrived in Forks and had an impromptu lunch with the doctor and his wife and Esme's parents. Afterwards, Edward left them in the kitchen and drove to Chief Swan's house. He knocked on the door for several minutes but there was no answer. He returned to the mansion with the spring in his steps noticeably absent.

Three days later, the following Wednesday, Edward again left Port Angeles for Forks. Again he stood on Isabella's porch, again he knocked with no answer. He was walking back to his car when Chief Swan's cruiser pulled into the drive.

"Edward" He questioned as he got out of the car.

"Yes, sir."

"What are you doing here?"

"I stopped by to see Isabella."

"Stopped by? You're miles from home son."

"I know sir."

"Isabella volunteers after school at the old folk's home on Cemetary Lane. She doesn't get home until eight tonight."

"Oh. Will you tell her I stopped by?"

"Will do."

Edward headed to his car and then turned back around. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Does Isabella volunteer on the weekends too?"

"No."

"Will you please tell her that I'll stop by on Saturday?"

"What time?"

"About four?"

"Why don't you make it 5:30 and stay for dinner?"

"Thank you, sir."

#

Edward arrived at the door at 5:25, the florist in Port Angeles had only a few tired looking flowers and Edward opted to bring a bunch of Esme's prize winning white snowball chrysanthemums. He stood on the porch for the third time that week, only this time he was more successful; for Isabella opened the door. She stood there in a sleeveless A-line scarlet shift that came to mid thigh. Two rows of extra-large black buttons adorned the shift. Edward drew in a staggered breath. Yes, she was more beautiful than he remembered. The more he saw her the more he wanted to see her.

"Hello Edward."

"Isabella." He greeted her with a nod. She turned and led the way inside and he noticed that she was wearing black heels that emphasized her sexy legs. He stepped inside and as his eyes panned downward, following the curve of her behind, Edward almost licked his lips in appreciation, until his eyes lighted on Charles Swan's face as he approached him.

"Good evening sir." He reached his right hand out to grasp the chief's, having moved the bunch of mums to his left. "Thanks for inviting me to dinner."

"Welcome Edward," Charlie pumped his hand, "nice flowers."

"Oh yeah, Isabella," and gave her the flowers, "these are for you."

Isabella halted her steps and turned back around to face Edward. She reached out for the bouquet. "Oh, Esme's chrysanthemums." She said flatly.

For the first time in his short life Edward felt the need to explain himself to a girl. "The florist didn't have anything that looked good enough. And these are beautiful, they remind me of you."

Isabella's lips pursed into a straight line and he saw her eyeballs start to go upwards but they came back down quickly when the chief elbowed her in her side. Was she rolling her eyes at him? Edward shook off the preposterous thought.

"Please come on in. Dinner's on the table. I hope you don't mind lasagna?"

"Lasagna?" He echoed.

"Yep. Lasagna." She hesitated. "Oh please. You do know what that is, don't you?" her eyes narrowed, looking questioningly back at him.

He shook his head, no. "Never had it."

"Jeez Louise, don't tell me you're like my dad?" Isabella jutted her chin in her father's direction. "Meat and potatoes all the way?"

"Well, I guess I am like your Dad. If it's not at a restaurant in PA or if our cook Charlotte doesn't make it, I probably never had it."

Now he was certain she was rolling her eyes in frustration. "You sad, sad, deprived boy. It's Italian food. Noodles, layered with cheese, in sauce." He looked at her blankly. "If you like pizza, you'll like it."

"Pizza?"

"Wha? You never had pi...you're pulling my leg." Edward and Charlie started laughing. "Ha ha, very funny."

"Well you were having such a great time showing off your cosmopolitan knowledge of food, I couldn't help it." Edward and Charlie started to laugh again.

"I'll put these in some water, and we can eat in about five minutes." Isabella spun on her heel and walked in the direction of the kitchen.

#

EPOV

The lasagna was really good, the chief and I practically scarfed it down. "Isabella, this is really good."

"Thanks. I was a little worried because I couldn't find ricotta cheese here in the store so I had to make my own. It was my first time making it but I think it came out pretty good."

"Wow. A girl who knows how to make her own cheese, your mother must be proud."

She and the Chief both smiled and shook their heads. "Not really. When I was about twelve we were subletting an apartment in the West village near Bleecker Street. Our neighbor, Mrs DiMuzio, used to babysit me when my mom had to work late. I learned to cook from watching her in the kitchen. The first time I made pasta from scratch Renee was livid. She said no child of hers is ever going to be a slave to a husband and a kitchen." She turned her head to the chief. "Sorry Dad."

"Don't mind me. I know your mother's feelings on that subject, believe me. I used to tease her that she was allergic to the kitchen. Nothing's changed."

"Well this is good lasagna, as good as what I had in Rome."

"You've been to Italy?"

"Yes, the summer after eighth grade we went to Vienna, Paris, and Rome. My father had some international banking conference there. We were there for almost a month. It was great."

"You're so lucky. I've always wanted to go to Europe. It's been my dream to study..."

They all waited for Isabella to finish. When she didn't Charlie piped up. "What's your dream, honey. I've never heard you talk about what you want in life."

"It doesn't matter, Dad. Dreams are just marshmallow fantasies. Like mom says, a girl's got to be practical if she wants to make her way in the world these days."

"I don't know about that Bella. I've lived long enough to know that you'll never be happy following someone else's dream. You've got to follow your own."

"I know Dad. You're living you're dream and mom is living hers. It's just that I want to be able to stand on my own two feet, the way mom does. And I can't do that if I'm following a pipe dream."

"Sometimes there's a way to make that pipe dream work. The first step is to believe it's worthwhile, though. Don't squash it, and later have regrets. Even if you never achieve it, you'll be happier if you try than if you don't. Think about it."

Isabella set her fork down on her plate with a clatter. "I want to be an artist Dad. Not very practical is it?"

The chief reached over to hold her hand in his. "No. It's not. But who says that you have to be?"

"I do."

"Why?"

She sighed heavily."Because, Dad, I have to stand on my own two feet, be independent."

"That's what I'm here for, honey. I'm here for you to lean on. Don't you know that?"

She swallowed, but said nothing as she tucked her chin down and started to eat again.

"Isabella, is this why my International is out in the elements? Have you taken over my garage for your artwork?"

"Yes."

"So, when were you going to tell me?"

She shrugged, staring at her plate.

"Can I take a look?"

She nodded. "If you like."

"Now?"

She nodded again.

He reached for her hand again. "Come on Bella, show me that artist that's inside of you."

She bit her bottom lip and she blinked her eyes rapidly, in an effort to stem the tears that were gathering. But the trembling smile that lit up her face made her glow like the morning sun. She was more beautiful than ever. Yes, the more I see her, the more I want her.