"Well would you all like to come inside and eat with us? Edward brought these donuts as a welcome to the neighborhood gesture right before you got here Esme." As I finish my invitation I look over to Edward who is giving me an embarrassed but grateful smile. I give him my best reassuring smile and hope they both follow me up into the Winnebago.
"I haven't had a real shower in a couple days so you'll have to excuse my stink and haggard appearance." I can smell myself and I'm sure anyone within a five foot radius can too.
Edward is hot on my heels up the step into the crowded RV, "You look great!" I cannot believe he just blurted that out, and by the look on his face neither can he. I give a nervous laugh and push Vermont off of the bench seat sofa. My face is burning with a blush and I can feel my armpits prickle with sweat.
Esme bless her heart changes the direction of this awkward breakfast moment. "So this is the infamous declawed Vermont. What an unusual name for a cat."
"Oh, yes ma'am. He's front paw declawed. And thank you so much for making an exception and letting us lease the house with a pet. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. Vermont was an abandoned kitten. I found him when he was around 2 weeks old. I had to bottle feed him and everything. He was such a little a runt, he looked like a drowned rat so I just called him "vermin". Once it became clear that he'd survive I figured he needed a real name so I just fancied up vermin and called him Vermont. He was a bit aggressive since I guess his mom was feral or something, so that's why he's declawed. He's completely sweet now though. Just old and lazy, a perfect cat really."
"Um, anyways let's dig into these donuts. Why don't you pick out your favorite Esme?" I hope this gets less weird once we're all eating. I grab an apple fritter and cut it up into little bits for Alice. Esme takes my beloved Boston Crème, I grab a blueberry cake donut and Edward goes for a plain glazed. When I'm sure that Alice isn't going to choke herself with all the handfuls of fritter she's shoving in her mouth, I look back up to start some more light conversation but my eyes get stuck on Edward. He's giving me the sweetest smile. I've never been so happy to go without my favorite donut. Maybe I made a friend after all.
Chit chat is easy and mostly centered around Alice and her ability to scarf down food. Esme's a grandmother so she knows just how to dote on a little girl. She compliments me on my cardigan and I discover that she's a knitter like me. She promises to tell me where the best yarn shops are in the area. We finish up our breakfast and the next thing I know Alice is shoving books at Edward and has now helped herself to his lap. Gerald the Giraffe has never sounded so good. I can't remember the last time someone other than me has read to her.
Rumbling from down the street puts a halt to our conversations and Edward's animal noises. The movers are here. I start to get up so that I can meet them, but my phone starts ringing and now Alice is singing Hot Dog and twisty dancing like a crazy person. A look at the screen and I can tell it's the RV rental company. Crap, everything is happening at once. Esme must sense my panic, because she offers to talk to the rental folks to arrange the pick-up.
After I run up the front steps to unlock the door, I give a few quick instructions to the movers about which furniture goes where and they're all business, so fast and efficient. I can't believe how strong they are. One guy has my Tempurpedic mattress hoisted above his head. That thing is freaking heavy but he's carrying it by himself. This is going much quicker than I expected.
Esme dashed up the drive way and says she's got to run, but that Edward is going to help me with the RV.
"What? They're supposed to pick it up." This isn't the worst thing that could happen on move-in day but the realization that I'm alone and can't deliver the RV back to them because I'd have no way of getting back home breaks me. I'm a sobbing mess.
Edward comes walking up with Alice holding him by the pointer finger, "Uh, I'm going to drive the Winnebago. You need to follow me in your truck. So um, I guess I should start clearing it out so that you can put the car seat in, right?" I'm shocked at how thoughtful he is and how he's completely taken charge and made my snotty tearfilled breakdown pointless.
"The nearest drop off location is Port Angeles. The head mover said that they'll be done by 3pm, so we should be able to drop the RV off before 5pm and you won't get charged an extra day for the rental."
I'm staring at him and because I've apparently become mute. All I can manage is an affirmative nod. Alice lets go of his finger and runs at me to hug my leg.
"Thanks you so much. I really don't know what I would have done. I was counting on them being able to come out and pick up the RV." Maybe I should make him lunch or dinner or something. I don't want to be presumptuous and I don't want to give him the wrong impression either. So instead I just tell him that I owe him one.
"No worries. What are neighbors for?" Edward smiles so much. The frantic man I met this morning before the sun came up is nothing like the one in front of me now. I want to hug him and ask him to be my friend, but the last time I did something like that I was in 2nd grade. Eric ran away and then made everyone call me SmellyBelly for the rest of the year. If I'm being honest, I heard whispers behind my back all the way through high school of people calling me SmellyBelly. So skipping the hug I go with a shoulder nudge and tell Alice to give him a high five.
The movers did a great job and finished before 2pm. I had pizza and 2 liters delivered. I think the free lunch increased their level of service. They rolled out of town with an empty truck, full bellies and a $50 in all of their pockets. Alice was running around the coffee table like a chicken with her head cut off when Edward knocked on my front door. I handed him the keys to the RV and told him I'd follow since he's the only one who actually knew how to get where we were headed.
Forty-five minutes later, he's riding shot gun in my Rover with Alice asleep in what can only be described as a neck-break position in her car seat. It's amazing to me that kids fall asleep with their heads all wonky and don't wake up in need of a Chiropractor.
I've got Iron and Wine playing softly in the front speakers and just when I was starting to feel comfortable with the semi-silence Edward says my name.
"Bella, I just want you to know how sorry I am about earlier. I thought I was going to be helping out my new neighbor by getting you to move the RV and since it was running I figured whoever was inside was awake. Ugh, and then with the donuts; it wasn't meant to be a bribe so that you wouldn't tell my mother about what an ass I had been earlier. I was just trying to be friendly and make up for being so rude. Plus I figured you'd have to be exhausted after so many days traveling and a sweet breakfast might perk you back up for your big move-in day. Just, I'm really sorry. I hope we can be friends"
What a speech. My snort must be all the reassurance he needs, because the worried look dissolves from his handsome face and replaced by a devious smirk.
"Actually, maybe we shouldn't be friends. You just snorted."
I fake hurt, "Hey, I let your mom have my donut. You're obligated to be my friend now."
As it turns out, making friends is easy. I don't understand why James and I were so secluded in Jacksonville. As my thoughts drift back to James I decide I should probably talk to Edward about my life before Washington.
He insists that he doesn't need any explanation on why I moved, but as I go into the state of my marriage before James was in the accident he softens. I'm not looking for pity, if I wanted consolation I would have stayed in Florida. I tell him about how I feel more like myself now than I ever have before and that I've always wanted to leave the Atlantic. The more I talk the better I feel, and now I'm realizing what I was missing out on by not having anyone other than my uninterested husband to confide in. I don't make any mention of my pregnancy. There's plenty of time for that. Besides, having your husband die tragically is one thing, but being pregnant with his child when he dies is on a whole other level of sob-story.
When we make it back to our street I carry Alice into the house and put her into her crib. The toddler phase of fall asleep anywhere and sleep through anything is one of those miracles only a parent can appreciate. I tell Edward I'll see him later. He invited to come over on Sunday so that Alice can pick Raspberries from his backyard. He wasn't sure what to do with me when I got all misty eyed and told him that the only thing I was worried about missing was the little Strawberry patch I had for Alice at our old house.
When Alice wakes up we'll head out to the grocery store. I don't think either of us are in the mood for Chef Boyardee or canned green beans.