In the excitement of the day so far, Callie hadn't thought to eat dinner, and now that it was going on eight o'clock, her stomach was becoming distracting. She set her coat and book-bag down in the lilac room and looked towards Edward. "I don't want to be imposing so soon, but…I'm starving."
Edward's eyes widened, and he said, "Oh," apologetically. He then took her hand and lead her to the kitchen downstairs. In the Cullen refrigerator, there was enough food products to make it appear that they ate, but just hadn't gone shopping in two weeks. Edward opened the door of the refrigerator between the two of them so Callie couldn't see inside. There was some ancient apple juice, a jar of jelly, ketchup, a collection of onions, a few cans of soda, a fruitcake, and a clove or two of garlic. Edward winced, not even bothering to open the freezer.
"Let's go out."
He shouted their departure through the house, and then pulled Callie through the door, not wanting any inquisitions or uninvited guests. The Cullens, while they were cultured and civilized people, were also nosey and occasionally intrusive. Edward ran down the walkway and to the car, dragging a flustered Callie along while she held her stomach steady the whole way.
"You, must be, crazy," She said between gasps for air as she was pulled along. Edward muttered some affirmation under his steady breath, and then opened the passenger-side door for her. She nodded her gratitude for his gesture and then fell into her seat. Edward rushed around the front of the car and sat down, putting the car into reverse before Callie even had her door closed.
Driving along, they were quiet, as Callie struggled for her breath. "You know, as a normal person, I might have been able to deal with that, but with a parasite in my belly, it gets a little difficult."
Edward smiled at the joke, but didn't say anything. He was happy to be out of the radius of his family's reach for the moment. Happy to be with Callie again, alone. For most of the ride, he simply enjoyed her scent. Occasionally, trying to be discreet about it, he watched her; her blushing cheeks, her windswept hair, her shining eyes. Something about the way she held her stomach, the soft smile on her face, broke Edward's heart, because he knew, beneath that, she was remembering pain.
Since her comment about his special skill, Edward had refrained almost entirely from perusing her mind. He was hoping she would forget about it altogether, but he doubted it would be that easy.
In the mess of his thoughts, Edward almost missed the intersection he had to turn at to get to the parking lot of the restaurant he was taking her to. He took the turn faster and sharper than most could, making Callie gasp with fright. "Are you trying to kill me?" She demanded, staring straight at him. For a moment, all he could do was stare. She simply didn't know how wrong she was.
He recovered and said, with a twinge of spite in his voice, "No, I'm trying to get you food. Shall we?" He offered her his arm and she took it, leaning on it more heavily that usual.
They crossed the parking lot at a rate that was painfully slow for Edward and walked (or in Callie's case, waddled) into the restaurant, which was a small family-owned Italian place. The hostess knew him. She greeted them both and then led him without question to the usual booth, tucked away in the back corner. Unwillingly, Edward caught a thought as it floating through her head. "I guess that one is none of my business, isn't it. It's a pity though, that such a handsome guy would mess up that badly." He scowled.
Callie noticed. "What's wrong?"
He waved her question away and helped her into her seat. She took a menu, and after noticing that, he took one too. He paged through, not really reading any of it, waiting for a waitress. She, in the meantime, was looking on the back page, which was filled with just desserts and kids' meals. Edward noticed, and said, "You probably want the middle page. That's where the meals are."
Callie grimaced. "I don't think I could get a whole plate down." She eyed a waitress exiting the kitchen doors with a tray of two plates the size of the big wheel on a tricycle. "Do you see that?" She was incredulous.
Edward smirked, shaking his head. "You're a strange girl, Callie." He hesitated, watching her face. A thought drifted towards him. "Is that bad?" She wondered. To reassure her, he said, "I like it."
She blushed, and the two of them sat in silence until the waitress came with two cups of water and a basket of bread. She muttered some pleasantries and asked for their order. Callie ordered a child's size plate of spaghetti, and Edward waved the waitress off, ignoring her flirtatious eyes and when then stared rudely at Callie's stomach. As soon as the other girl was gone, Callie dug into the toasted loaf of bread, and Edward rested his hands, one on top of the other, on the table in front of him. He then said, "You know, you're eating for two at this point. You might need something bigger than a kid's dinner." An echo of concern laced his voice, and Callie was suddenly rather endeared to him. She swallowed an under-chewed lump of bread roughly, trying to keep the difficulty away from her expression, and then reached out to touch his hand.
As soon as their skin made contact, Edward swallowed hard. He had heard of phantom limbs, where amputees mistake their missing limb as still present and think they feel it, but this was ridiculous. Who ever heard of a phantom heart? Edward could have sworn his dead heart was pounding away in his chest.
Breathing slowly, Edward regained control of his imaginary pulse and looked into Callie's green eyes. He didn't speak for a second, but then said, "I'm glad you're joining our family." Another pause. "We needed something new, and you are just what the doctor ordered."
A second silence overcame them. Neither could look away from the other's eyes. It wasn't until the waitress returned with a steaming plate of spaghetti that their attention was redirected. She set the plate down and said, "Cheese?" Both of them looked at her, confused. She waved the parmesan grater in front of them, annoyed.
"Oh," they said, giggling. Callie answered affirmatively, and when the waitress was done, she wandered away.
"I think we're bothering her," Edward said, grinning mischievously.
Callie grinned back, then put on a mock face of boredom. "Pity," she sighed, flipping her hair. Her scent whipped through the air right at him, shocking him. He tried not to show it.
She didn't notice his state of shock as she dug right in to the plate in front of her. As she had guessed, it was much more her size than the other plates. In looking at this, Edward suddenly realized how small she was. Her legs must make up most of her five feet and six inches, because her upper body was far too short in length to contribute much. In the booth, the effect was intensified. Edward suddenly had the urge to reach out and hold her, but stayed where he was. He somehow doubted even a vampire could be safe when coming between a hungry pregnant woman and her meal.
When she was about halfway done, she stopped, saying she wanted to assess her hunger. Edward was slightly confused by this, and asked what she meant.
"I simply don't like to eat too much. I usually tend to throw everything up if I do, and that's just a waste of time and food." She smiled bashfully and looked away for a moment. When she looked back, it was with a sharper look. "So, Mr. Cullen, you have done a fantastic job of distracting me until now, I suppose, what with having me move into your home (which I think was a little bit drastic if it was only to help me forget), but now you have an explanation to share with me, and I will just not let it go this time." She crossed her arms and didn't take her eyes off of him in an attempt to look extremely serious.
"What exactly is it you want an explanation for, Ms. Dawson?" Edward said, using his smoothest voice and most polite smile. It stunned Callie for a moment, but she was resolute, and Edward was not getting away from it.
"You can read my mind?" She whispered, leaning forward. Edward rolled his eyes briefly as he noticed that a bit of her hair had fallen into the spaghetti. He cleared his throat and pointed at it. She looked down and blushed, grinning bashfully once again as she wiped her hair clean with her napkin. Edward hoped it was enough to get her mind off of everything, but it wasn't. She snapped right back into serious mode, and said, "Answer me, Edward, you promised."
Edward sighed. "This is true."
"What's true? That you can read my mind, or that you promised?"
He hesitated, but whispered, "Both." He was looking down at the table, the empty place in front of him.
"Edward, look at me." He looked up. She was smiling, almost amazed. "Smile for me," She said, without moving her mouth. She was sending thoughts to him. His eyebrows shot up.
"Clever girl." He couldn't help but smile.
"How? How can you do it?" Edward shrugged, not willing to give up his secrets before she asked about them directly. If he could avoid the whole vampire thing, life would be easier.
"I'm not sure…" This wasn't entirely false. He didn't know the logistics of it all. She nodded an acceptance for that, but in the meantime, her mind was racing.
"Why is it unwise for us to spend time together? Why do I never see you eat? What was bothering you, the day I put your hand on my stomach?"
Edward cleared his throat at her, disapproving her rush of thoughts. Callie grinned apologetically. "Sorry, I'm not used to noticing how much I think…But if you heard all of that, answer it."
Edward sighed. "Smooth move," He thought. Callie perked up slightly, paying more attention and looking hard at him.
"We shouldn't spend time together…because I don't want to fall in love." The truth of his statement rang even in his ears. Callie, who had taken a sip of her water, almost choked. She stared at him, confused.
After a moment, she said, "That's why you were so weird earlier today. You didn't want to get close to me…"
Edward stopped her. "It's not that I don't want to get close to you, Callie, I don't want to be close to anyone." He wondered if it would be enough to save her ego. She nodded, sniffing back what might have been tears.
In a few seconds, she asked, "Is it hard?"
"You have no idea," He caught himself thinking. "A little," He said instead, mimicking her bashful smile. Before she remembered her other question, he jumped in. "May I ask you a question?"
She nodded, not wanting to be rude.
"Please, do not take this the wrong way. Who's the father?" He said, gesturing to her belly.
She swallowed hard again, this time with no spaghetti in her mouth, and yet, it was harder to keep the pained look from her face. She looked away from him. "His name was Jake. Jacob Black."
When she next looked at him, his expression was distraught. He didn't want to be rude when she had been so polite, but he immediately excused himself. He ran to the bathroom, and, after making sure that no one was around, pulled out a slick silver cell phone and called Carlisle. Alice picked up instead.
"She's carrying a werewolf baby?"
Edward sighed audibly into the phone and listened as it was handed over.
"Edward?" Carlisle's voice came over the phone melodically.
"I suppose you heard already," He said, a little disappointed that Alice had stolen the glory of breaking news. "Callie's father is Jacob Black."
"That doesn't necessarily mean it's a werewolf, Edward. It simply means it has that potential." Carlisle remained calm.
"Potential or not, what happens when Jacob Black wants his baby? When he finds Callie hiding out with vampires?"
"Edward, we must cross that bridge when we come to it."
"Carlisle," He patronized, "It will not be crossing a bridge, it will be fording the English Channel."
"If you recall, Edward, I have swum the English Channel. Enjoy the rest of your dinner, and give our regards to Callie." Carlisle hung up with a pleasant note in his voice. Edward sighed. He walked back slowly, controlling his emotions to the extreme extent of his ability. Callie was back to eating her spaghetti, looking humble and abandoned. She didn't look up when he sat down.
"I apologize, but something I ate must have bothered me."
Callie looked up and glared at him. Too late did Edward realize that he had reminded her of her last question.
"What did you eat that bothered you, Edward? And when did you eat it? Where? You didn't eat at lunch because we left before then." Edward cursed silently. Callie hesitated, then went on. "Edward? Are you…anorexic?"
Edward's eyes widened in surprised, and he tried not to laugh.
Somewhere in his expression she thought she saw pain. She tried to console him. "It's more common among guys then you think, Edward. Truly. And getting help isn't hard. I won't tell anyone till you're ready, of course, but you have to start eating again. This just isn't healthy."
The concerned look on her face pushed him over the limit; he laughed out loud. Her expression changed from concern to offense.
Edward took corrective measures. "Callie," he started, putting on a more serious expression. She glared at him. "Callie, I'm not anorexic. Truly." He reached across and took her fork from her hand, twirled some spaghetti on it, and brought it to his mouth. "See?" He said. He stuck it in his mouth.
Human food for Edward was like a tyrannosaurus eating the foliage. It was under-satisfying and tasted bland and useless. It didn't bother him, much, but was never his preference and certainly not satiating. He could eat a thousand pounds of spaghetti and still crave blood.
He swallowed with some difficulty, but it didn't show. "I usually only eat when I'm particularly hungry and in the mornings."
She nodded suspiciously. "Alright, then."
He wondered to himself how long this could last before she would figure it all out. How would they hunt without her noticing? They could go at night, he supposed, while she slept. How much human food would he have to eat to keep her happy and unassuming?
He was beginning to believe that this was more work than he had thought.
It was worth it.