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LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine.
Chapter 9
Reason seems to be absent in the small town of Forks.
"What a bitch!" Of course Rose could always be counted on to give me her honest opinion, whether I agreed with it or not.
This time I did, luckily enough.
"I know! I was this close to running over there and ripping her a new one!" I growled, pounding the dough with my fists. "The nerve of that hypocritical bitch!"
"So how is Charlie feeling now?" Emmett mingled into the conversation; his presence in my bakery was so common that I wasn't even shocked he was joining a discussion about my private life. It seemed almost like he'd always been there, with even Charlie acting as if he was some older cousin who'd moved into town—but then it helped that Emmett shared her love of frequent, mischievous schemes that involved building stuff and getting extremely dirty.
My filthy, incredible tomboy! Despite what other assholes think…
"She's doing much better," I answered. My relief was still palpable as I thought back on how she left the house earlier that morning; her usual spring back in her step and her chattiness slowly returning where it had been so notably absent the previous evening. "But I think what Angela said really struck a nerve. I mean…she really doubted herself last night, and that really pisses me off!"
"That bitch shouldn't be in front of a classroom full of impressionable young kids if all she wants is to transform them into what she thinks a girl should look like," Rose growled as I nodded enthusiastically. "So what if Charlie isn't the picture of a girly girl, running around in pretty clothes and playing with dolls. Anyone who looks at her sees how amazing she is!"
"I just can't get over the fact that she even did it!" I snarled, putting the dough away before I'd completely savaged it in my murderous rage. "How can I ever send Charlie over to her dad's again, knowing there might be a repeat performance?"
Emmett nodded, his calm demeanor rubbing off on me, even though time hadn't made my ire lose its force. After having had a sleepless night filled with worry, I was very much mama bear on the prowl. "Have you spoken to her dad yet?"
"I left a message on his voicemail," I explained. "I couldn't trust myself to talk to him in person last night, though God knows I wanted to. Not without the whole thing blowing up in our faces and…and he's still her dad. We have to be mature about this for our daughter's sake."
"I think that was a pretty good decision." Emmett nodded along, even though Rose thought I should have gone for the beat down.
I had been unable to sleep, so I'd snuck into the bakery to find out how things had fared in my absence. With my mind still reeling from the conversation I'd had with my daughter, it had been a relief to find out that at least in this part of my world, everything seemed to have gone off without a hitch. Emmett had even been as thoughtful to have left samples of his baking in the fridge for me to check, though really I knew no such thing would be necessary. After all, he was everything Marcus had promised me he'd be, and then more, and there honestly hadn't been a single worry in the back of my mind when I'd driven off for Seattle on Saturday. Well, at least not about my bakery.
And apart from that, he was also a great guy. In only a few days' time, he'd blended in with me and Rose to the point where neither of us could even imagine what it had been like without him. Which was saying something, since neither one of us was easy to work with. He was just that kind of guy; the type you could have a long, deep conversation with only to have him conclude it with a joke and an offer to grab a beer at the bar a couple of doors down the street from us.
And right then, I realized I really needed that.
A friend; one who hadn't been there ten years ago but who was ready to offer advice based on what he saw, instead of what he'd seen.
"I need to talk to Edward, though, and soon, even though I know I haven't really cooled off since Charlie told me about what happened." I sighed, mixing the ingredients for the chocolate icing on my chocolate-chocolate cake into a bowl. "We're having lunch at one, after his shift at the hospital ends."
"If I can give you some advice…" Emmett started as Rose left the kitchen to tend to a customer, his eyes seeking mine over the workbench before he continued, "make sure you keep your cool during that meeting. It's a very sticky situation you're in right now, and it will only get worse if your anger is misunderstood for jealousy."
I nodded, even though my first instinct was to fly off the handle. "I'm kind of stuck on what to do, though," I admitted. "I know I'm still angry about what happened last night, so maybe having this conversation might not be the best of ideas but, on the other hand, something needs to happen now. Before Charlie is exposed to that bitch again."
"I agree." Putting the birthday cake he finished aside with a gentility that belied his huge, hulking figure, he leaned against the worktop. "Still…make sure you keep in mind who you're there for."
Charlie.
In my anger, it was sometimes hard to remember that she was stuck right in the middle. From what she told me last night, I already surmised that she was having terrible loyalty issues already: ending up incredibly hurt by what Angela had done but not wanting to tell her dad—or even me, for that matter—because she wanted to please him.
We'd have to be careful and keep it from affecting her even more.
But the problem was, would we?
And if I didn't defend my daughter, who would?
"How is it that you know so much about this stuff?" I asked, my curiosity raised by Emmett's sage advice.
"It happened to me, a long time ago." His eyes didn't meet mine as he set about measuring the ingredients for his next project; a new kind of cake he wanted to try out. "My parents got divorced when I was twelve, and to say they parted amicably would be the understatement of the century."
"That sucks!" Knowing the statistics, I'd always counted myself lucky to have grown up in an intact family. Edward and I had both been. And even if we didn't make it, to me, it had never felt like we were so far apart that we couldn't raise our kid together.
That was, until she came along.
"It did suck," Emmett confirmed. "Though at times it did have some perks. I mean, there's gotta be something said for getting a double amount of presents at Christmas and on your birthday because you get to celebrate it twice and neither your mom or your dad wants to be seen as the 'cheap' one."
"I guess so," I hedged, already sensing there was one big ass 'but' hanging in the air.
I waited.
"But…"There it was. Emmett sighed, his hands coming almost to a standstill in the huge bowl of cake batter. "Most of the time I hated being to be stuck in the middle of a never-ending fight." He shrugged, his eyes trained to his work.
"The only upside to them being divorced was that I didn't have to listen to them fighting all the time when they thought I'd gone to bed. Not that having them on my case about how the other was doing was particularly fun, though; or the non-stop bitching about how my dad was teaching me all the wrong things and how my mom was such a stuck-up bitch that I'd never learn how to be a proper guy."
Sighing, I couldn't help but wonder if Edward and I were going down that road as well. I mean, I was trying not to go there and to always keep my girl in the back of my mind, but after what Charlie told me, I could already see that she was starting to experience the downside of having both your parents so close.
"What do I do?" I whispered, not really realizing I'd said it out loud until Emmett's eyes finally found mine.
"Try to keep as much of a clear head about this as you can," Emmett advised. "Never argue in front of her, or think that you're talking over her head, and always make sure to keep her in the loop." Again, shaking his head, he pursed his lips before adding, "I know from experience how fucked up it is to know your parents are making all sorts of decisions about your life without asking your opinion or even bothering to let you know until there's nothing you can do about it."
I could definitely see the point he was trying to make. After all, in some ways Charlie was pretty mature for her age and—apart from that—uncannily perceptive. However, if stuff was going on, she'd know, no matter how hard I'd try to keep her out of it.
"You'll do great, though," he assured me and I found that his support soothed my nerves more than anything else had. Rose was a great friend, and one I'd cherish for as long as I lived, but she had never been good at the whole 'supporting' thing. Sure, she was great to have around when you were pissed off and needed to vent but when it came to finding solutions she was usually stuck on two things: kick it or fuck it.
And in this case, neither was appropriate.
Which was why, a couple of hours later when I was sitting across from Edward at the little diner a few doors down from my own bakery, I was trying very hard to remember his advice.
"You look tired," I remarked, after forcing my way through the usual pleasantries.
He shrugged. "Haven't really slept in the last forty-eight hours," he causally remarked, wiping his eyes as he ordered a cup of coffee and an omelet.
"No?" I couldn't even fathom not sleeping for a whole day, let alone more. The months before Charlie had learned how to sleep through the night had been some of the toughest of my life.
"I had the graveyard shift on Saturday, pulling a double after my regular weekend hours," he went on to explain, drumming his fingers against the table top as if the movement was the only thing keeping him awake at that moment. "But I also wanted to spend time with our little girl so I only slept for a few hours on Sunday morning when the hospital called right after I'd dropped her off. They asked if I could cover for someone who'd called in sick, so I drove to the hospital after leaving her with you and I've been working ever since."
"Oh," I breathed, suddenly realizing that this probably wasn't the right time to get into heavy parenting discussions with him. But really, when would the right time be? Charlie's next weekend visit already looming at the end of the week.
"It's okay," he shrugged, sighing with pleasure when he took a sip from his coffee. "It's why they call it a 'residency', I guess. Every new doctor has to go through it. That's why they pay us the big bucks once we've made it through to the other side." He chuckled humorously.
"And the fact that you'll be responsible for other people's lives," I mused, gingerly sipping from my cup.
"So what was it you wanted to talk about?" Edward asked, digging into his plate of food as soon as the waitress had put it in front of him.
I fidgeted, playing with my mushroom omelet long enough to reduce it to a chopped up mess on the plate. "There's something I need to talk to you about but…but it's hard."
"Yeah?" Looking up, he gave me this 'cut to the chase' look that did nothing to reduce my nerves.
Well, here goes nothing. Taking a deep breath I started. "Do you remember me calling you last night? Just after you'd dropped Charlie off?"
Nodding around a bite of his food he mumbled. "It was about Charlie being upset, wasn't it?"
"Yeah." Stalling as I took a bite of my food.
"So?" he pressed, and the part of me that once knew how to read even the tiniest shift in his mood, just from the way his body moved, picked up on an increase of tension. Shit.
By that time, my anger had kind of deflated; the underlying tension of the moment and the importance Emmett had pressed into my mind of keeping this conversation as harmonious as possible made me feel more like a cornered animal than a mama bear protecting its cub.
"I finally managed to get her to open up and…" I sucked in a deep breath, my voice speeding up in nervous energy as I went on. "And it turned out that some things Angela said to her this weekend really got to her, which is why I think we need to talk about setting some, um, boundaries."
"Something Angela said to Charlie?" He put his fork down as the crease between his eyebrows deepened.
I nodded hesitantly, trying desperately to ascertain whether that ridge was formed in mere confusion or if there was also some annoyance packed in there somewhere. "From what Charlie told me, Angela had made plans to do thing that were slightly more girly than Charlie would have liked and wanted her to dress accordingly and, well, you know your daughter."
"What? So Angela made some plans that weren't exactly up Charlie's alley and they talked about it," Edward repeated; his tone and demeanor became more defensive by the second. Yep, definitely annoyance. "Angela told me all about it on Sunday. She thought it would be nice to try something new. She feels awful about how it all turned out."
"And did she also tell you how she tried to guilt trip our girl into going along?" I snapped, his defensiveness rekindling my rage. "Or how she had made Charlie so upset that she was still doubting everything about herself the next night?"
"It couldn't have been that bad," Edward downplayed, wadding up his napkin and throwing it on his empty plate. "If it was, she would have told me about it when I came home…or even shown how upset she was. I would have known."
"It was bad enough for me to call you, remember?" I spat back, throwing my own fork onto the plate with a loud clang. "And it was bad enough for me to insist on having this conversation with you so that we can keep it from happening again!"
"Come on, Bella!" he growled, sitting forward as if to intimidate me with his sheer size. Fat chance, buddy! "It was all a misunderstanding! I told you, Angela never meant any harm and is really torn up about how it turned out." He shrugged and made me want to slap him from his nonchalant gesture. "There's no use in bringing it all up again…it's done, and everybody seems to have moved on from it, except for you."
"Wha-" I started, but in my completely befuddled mind, I was not even I was quite sure what I was going to say.
What would Emmett do?
Not that Edward even gave me the courtesy of getting my own two cents in as he droned on. "If you really want me to, I'll talk to Angela tonight and ask her to tone it down a little, but there really is no reason to get so hurt over all this. I mean, can't you see you're overreacting just a little?"
"Overreacting?" I cried, earning dirty looks from other diners. "Who's overreacting here? She might not have seemed all that upset to you but you didn't see her on Sunday evening. It was terrible, Edward! I've never seen her so upset, ever!"
"If she was really so upset, then why didn't she tell me?" Edward countered, his smug know-it-all smirk enraged me to the point where I wanted to reach out and stick my fork into his eye socket.
"Because she knows Angela is important to you and she was afraid she'd disappoint you by telling you she felt uncomfortable," I explained, wishing—praying—it would help him to understand. Anything that could make our conversation easier; more like we used to be.
Because this? It wasn't us.
Before this bullshit, we never fought—never like this anyway. Where were the times when we used to handle this kind of stuff like adults?
"She'd never do that," Edward spoke, shaking his head as if the mere thought of my words was ridiculous. "The Charlie I know wouldn't hesitate to be upfront to me about anything."
"Then maybe you don't know her that well after all," I spat, biting back even sharper comments about how he hadn't spent the past ten years around her twenty-four seven like I had. "Just like I don't think I know you that well anymore." Standing up, I fished for my purse and threw my part of the check on the table. "The Edward I knew—my friend—would have actually listened to what I had to say because he cared more about his own daughter than about some girl. But don't you worry about a thing, you jackass. I'll be here putting her needs first. You should try it, too."
The tears falling down my cheeks as I stormed out of the diner were for more than just sheer despair over how the situation had turned out. Because even with setting aside how frustrated I'd felt over the fact that he wouldn't even listen. Edward didn't even hear me out when I was talking about the wellbeing of his child, for goodness sake. The clusterfuck of a talk had also made one thing perfectly clear: I'd not only lost the dream I'd cherished for so long of the three of us one day becoming a family again.
But somewhere along the line, I'd also lost my friend.
Thoughts?