I have to thank my dear friends for helping me with this: m0t0b33 and teamalltwilight.
As always, I don't own anything Twilight related or anything else you might recognize in my story. I DO own the idea.
We'll just call them Hot Mama and Jailbait. :) Check the pictures in my FB group.
Bella's POV
I arrive home close to midnight, tired and famished.
The small clinic isn't doing so well ever since Carlisle died, but I try to keep it alive. For him. I know he worked so hard to build it and chose his employees carefully. It would be a shame to see it going down.
After punching the alarm code, I shuffle to the kitchen in search for something to eat.
I didn't have time to cook so the options are few.
But then I see a box of pizza on the table along with a post-it note slapped on it.
I thought you'll be hungry.
See you in the morning
Edward.
My heart constricts at his gesture. He thought of me.
I'm going to thank him tomorrow by baking his favorite cookies.
Three slices of pizza later, I'm ready to crash. I change in my satin pajamas and crawl in the big bed. In such moments, it's overwhelming how much I miss Carlisle. I fall asleep clutching to his pillow.
It feels like I just fell asleep when a warm hand squeezes and shakes my shoulder.
I moan and bury my face further into the pillow.
"Bella…it's close to seven thirty."
It takes me a moment to process Edward's words then I shoot up, narrowly missing his head.
"Oh!" I squeak surprised and flop back on my back. I'm still tired.
"Nice," he jokes. "How the tables have turned… Should I apply the same ritual you use on me? Loud music, dragging you out of the bed…maybe spanking?" he teases, pinching my side.
He knows that I'm ticklish, and he just did it on purpose, but I resist.
When Edward realizes he didn't succeed, he digs both hands in my sides until I'm squirming and giggling like mad, tears rolling down my cheeks.
"Much better," he whispers, falling next to me when he's satisfied.
I suddenly pick my head up and look at the clock. "You'll be late…" I stop talking when I see the clock reading only five minutes past seven. The sneaky bastard lied to me. "You lied!" I gasped. "You stole my beauty sleep," I add between giggles.
"Pshh! You don't need any," he murmurs dismissively, yawning loudly. "While you get breakfast ready, I'll snooze."
I'm still shocked over his declaration to react.
He thinks I'm beautiful.
I quickly shake my head, thinking he's just saying it. And really? Edward's my step-son taking everything into account.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, I drag him after me to the kitchen. He protests constantly until I remind him that he was awake before me and he shouldn't whine. That shuts him up.
As I scramble a few eggs, Edward slumps in a chair and starts playing on his phone or God knows what. It's difficult to live with a teenager, but I remind myself that not so long ago I was just like him – maybe a little more respectful and studious, but still a hotheaded teenager.
I place the plate in front of him and sit across from him with my own plate.
"Eat while it's warm," I advise and dig into my breakfast.
We haven't eaten together in too long, our schedules not being compatible.
"What's the green stuff? You know I hate peppers," he mutters.
"Eat and shut up, they're not peppers. It's chives."
"Oh." He nods and starts shoveling the food in his mouth.
I finish half of mine before I push it away and watch Edward polishing his plate.
"Thanks for the pizza," I tell him quietly.
He glances up at me, the corner of his mouth lifting up a little. "Thought you'd appreciate it."
"I do." I nod, smiling. "I'll have a surprise for you when you come home," I promise.
His green eyes widen and twinkle. "Really?"
"Yep, but my lips are sealed." I make a show of zipping my lips and throwing the key over my shoulder.
"Pity," Edward mutters then gets up, scratching the chair's legs on the floor. "I'm gonna get ready for school." And he's gone.
I stare after him, wondering how he's really doing. We need to sit down and have a serious talk. The things he told me about Esme worry me. I never thought he mourned her loss – he never showed it.
When Edward returns downstairs, a long while later, I'm dressed in my comfy sweats and an oversized t-shirt knotted at my side. I'm ready to bake.
I called Jasper, my right hand, best friend and shoulder to cry on when needed, and told him I'm off today. He cheered that considering he's been trying to get me to take a day off for so many months.
Edward's surprised to see my clothing choice but doesn't comment – he just raises an eyebrow at me. I smirk and hand him his sandwich.
I even walk him to his car, which he finds weird and even asks if I'm okay.
"Never better," I reply, grinning.
"Are you sure? You're acting weird," he insists.
"Just get in the car and go to school before you're late. You don't want any more detentions, do you?" I ask sternly.
"No, I can't say I want." He chuckles and slides in his car. "Bye!"
"Have a good day!" I offer and close the door of his car.
Once he's gone, I head to the kitchen and start preparing the brownies. When the first batch is in the oven, I decide to clean around a little. I've neglected housework lately.
I'm so busy that when Edward returns, I'm surprised of how fast the time flew. For an hour, he alternates between kissing my cheek, thanking me for the brownies and eating them.
Later in the evening we settle in front of the TV with the heated pizza from yesterday. A tour of the channels and nothing to see, I turn it off earning a confused look from Edward.
"We need to talk, Edward," I tell him quietly. I have no idea how to broach the subject.
"I'm sorry for how I'm acting around you. Really." He gulps. "I don't want to upset you."
"I thought we covered that subject," I say amused, patting his knee. "That's not what I wanted say."
"Oh. Then what?" he asks curiously.
"It's not okay to keep all this bottled up inside you. We need to talk about the recent events in your life."
His wide eyes stare at me as if I'm talking in different tongues. "What happened in my life?"
I roll my eyes.
It doesn't suit him to act stupid.
"I had no idea that's how you felt about Esme. Please, talk to me," I plead him. "You may not see it, but you're truly affected by everything."
"Pssht! Don't send me to a shrink! I'm fine!" he almost shouts.
"Consider me the shrink. If you refuse to talk, I'll definitely call someone. This isn't healthy – to keep all the grief inside," I tell him seriously.
"What do you want me to say, Bella?" He groans, leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes.
"Well, you sounded affected by this when we talked. I had no idea she meant so much to you."
"No shit?" he mumbles. "She was my mother! I told you this. And I realized that well…without counting you and Crazy Grandma from Portland, I'm kinda alone in the world. It's fucking scary as hell!" His hands go to his hair. "I don't know if I really miss Esme – for who she was. I just miss the idea of having a parent – someone to go to if you needed anything. I can't fucking ask you the same shit I asked her or Dad….though I have to." He shrugs. "It makes no sense, huh?"
"First, can you speak one sentence without cursing?" I reprimand him. "Second, you have to know that you can talk to me about anything you want. I know how you feel – been there, done that."
"How old were you?" Edward asks curiously, meeting my eyes.
"Twenty five. I had Carlisle by my side, though I didn't want anyone after it happened. He helped a lot with the moral support."
"I see." Edward nods. "Both of them?" he adds quietly.
"Huh?" I frown.
"Both your parents?" he clarifies.
"Oh, I was around five when I lost Mom. So it was just Charlie and me until I moved out to go to college," I explain. "He was everything I knew."
"Yeah, well…you had Dad to help you," Edward mutters bitterly.
"And you have me," I whisper, shifting closer and wrapping my arms around him.
"Don't!" he shouts, getting up. His hands ball at his sides then he rushes up the stairs.
I want to go after him, but I know that he needs to be alone.
Boys…
I wish he'll understand that it's okay to cry. I won't judge him.
For the rest of the evening, I wash the dishes, put a plastic foil over the cookies, take a shower then finally, after enough time passes, I decide to check on Edward.
It's quiet so I hope he didn't leave while I've busy in the bathroom.
Opening the door of his room, I see it's dark. He's in the bed, sleeping. Just to be sure he's actually there, I pad quietly to his side and peek under the blanket.
He's there alright – curled up, a crumpled paper tissue in his hand and a dozen others next to his pillow.
I hate seeing him in pain. I wish he'd talk to me.
Sighing, I cover him again, stroking his hair. We've always been close, but ever since he hit his teenage years, he's become distant. I miss that Edward who used to come to me with anything he wanted to know. Over the years, he's become that little brother I always wanted and never had.
"Bella," he mumbles, turning to me.
For a second, I think he woke up, but then I realize he's still asleep. Could he sense I'm here?
I shrug and retreat to my room.
On Friday morning, Edward tells me he's going to Emmett's right after school.
"And you didn't think to tell me sooner?" I grumble, leaning against my car's door.
We seem to have important conversations in the garage.
"Well, thought you'd appreciate to know why I'm not home on time."
"Okay, but I hope there won't be any parties."
"No." He rolls his eyes. "Just me and Em. Bye!"
"Are you coming later tonight or is it a weekend thing?" I ask before he can close his car door.
"The whole weekend." He grins, slams his door shuts and backs out.
He's probably just escaping more talking with me, though I never push him. I was hoping for some bonding time this weekend – like the good old days.
Not happening, apparently.
When I arrive at work, everyone senses my foul mood and stays out of my hair – only Jasper's oblivious. He's talking cheerfully about the new equipment that should arrive next week, and then he tells me about Dr. McLaughlin wanting to talk to me about a case, and more rambling à la Jasper.
I want a wall – to hit my head against it repeatedly.
How did Carl cope?
I squeeze my eyes shut and shuffle into my office, Jasper after me, still talking.
"Shut up!" I groan.
"Oh. What's up?" he finally breaks from his verbal diarrhea.
"I'm tired. My head hurts. I have to look over what they're bringing next week, to make sure it's why I asked for, I need to find a way to end this crappy month with profits which is unlikely, Edward's not talking to me. But you compensate," I mutter, falling in my chair.
"Someone's grumpy," Jazz declares. "Did you have coffee?"
"Not yet. Go buy me one," I plead him, hoping to get a few minutes alone.
"On it! Can I send McLaughlin to you?"
I shrug, dropping my head on my folded arms.
It's going to be a long day.
Fridays shouldn't be tiring.
Next one - Jailbait POV.
PS: I'm gonna post every couple days. I'm sure you're not against that, right? I thought so. :)