DESIDERATA

A/N:

Things I own: A boatload of filled quote books.

Things I don't own: Anything Twilight, it all belongs to SM. Desiderata of Happiness is Max Ehrmann's.

CHAPTER FIVE: CALM (BEFORE THE STORM)

"There is a luxury in being quiet in the heart of chaos." – Virgina Wolfe

"We are made strong by what we overcome." – John Burroughs

BPOV

My alarm goes off, and I groan. As I roll over to see what time it is, knowing full well that it is the same time my alarm goes off every morning, I'm still shocked to see 3:00. Story of my fucking life. 3:00 AM every day except Mondays. I'm only 21, but I'm still way too old for this shit.

I drag out a pair of jeans, my statement shirt of the day (Yes, I am an agent of Satan, but the duties are largely ceremonial), my Chucks, and head off to the bathroom. Prep time is minimal, because I'm just going to get full of flour, frosting, and anything else I happen to knock into. I brush my hair, quickly put it up in a ponytail, and head down to the kitchen. I grab a granola bar, hit the lights, and lock the front door behind me. My wonderful train wreck of a truck, Old Faithful, is waiting for me as always. I hop inside and amble my way along to the café.

At exactly 3:30 AM, I walk into the back of the café, flip on the lights and head straight for the coffee. While I get a pot brewing, I find a clean apron and hat (don't want any long brown hairs in the Mad Hatter's Cake, after all!!), and wait for the coffee to finish. I cannot possibly start anything until my coffee is ready. I am not, by nature, a morning person. In fact, I am the furthest thing from a morning person that exists. Since I am completely going against my personal circadian rhythms on a daily basis (except for Mondays, of course!!), coffee, in general, and caffeine, specifically, is required for my life support. Copious amounts of it. I drink it all day long. And, yes, I always wash my hands afterwards—no unsanitary baked goods come from these two hands!

Once my coffee is poured, I fire up my iPod, put on my headphones, and suddenly, the White Stripes are helping me get my baking on; Jack and Meg are so good to me in that way. I'm all on my own here in the café every morning until Alice arrives around 6:00 AM. To be completely honest, it is my favorite place in the world. Everything is quiet, calm, and orderly. No one is there to tell me what to do or how to do it, I can march to my own beat and no one will say a thing to me. I love to be alone with my music, my baking, and my thoughts. I get my very best thinking done during this time, curiously enough, the time of day when I am least likely to be functional according to my internal time clock. Too much of a good thing, however, can easily become a bad thing. I sometimes wonder if that isn't my biggest problem in life—the fact that I over think everything.

On this particular morning, my thoughts drift back and forth between two things: Green eyes, and the Desiderata of Happiness. I've given up any kind of thought control when it comes to those green eyes. I'm convinced that my subconscious mind is dead set against any type of control over thoughts of green eyes. I figure that, as long as I'm doomed, I may as well go along for the ride and enjoy myself.

The reason for thinking about the Desiderata, however, is completely driven by my conscious mind. After the disconcerting number of hours I spent learning about Edward Cullen last night, I kept asking myself, Why am I so obsessed with someone who is utterly unattainable? Such behavior is totally out of character for me, and makes no sense whatsoever. One could chalk it up to a ridiculously, unnaturally high level of horniness (and no real ways in which to appease that horniness outside of my own two hands), but I think there is more to it than that. And there's more to it than just Alice's precognitive dream.

I decide to do what I usually do when something in life just doesn't make sense: Bring it back to Desiderata. How does my issue fit, or not fit, with my vision of a life well-lived, according to the principles in the Desiderata? If it fits, I try to resolve the issue internally within the context of advice in Desiderata. If it doesn't fit, I do my very best to let it go. That's what has always worked for me in the past, so that's what I plan to do now. I have a copy of the Desiderata of Happiness taped to my workstation for this very reason. I read the first line:

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

Well, being calm and quiet in the midst of chaos certainly sounds appealing to me. That's just how I roll. It's kind of like I'm programmed to be the calm yin to Alice's hyper yang—we end up cancelling each other out. Clearly, no issues to deal with here.

…and remember what peace there may be in silence.

Again, peace, silence—all good things in my book. I am, however, jamming to the White Stripes as I read this, so there may be something there. I think back to the fangirl squees of Jessica and Lauren yesterday, and believe me, I DO remember what peace there may be in silence. I remember it so clearly that I imagine ways to create that level of peace and silence the next time they screech their way through our front door; alas, most of the ways I imagine would require violence, which kind of defeats the purpose. Damn.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.

Ouch. This one is hitting a little too close to home. There are a few persons I am not on good terms with, to put it bluntly. For one thing, there is Renee. Just the fact that I can't even call her "mom" speaks volumes. I know I was just a baby when she left Charlie, but the memory of the scandal is still etched deep in the links of the Forks Gossip Chain, and it is still an embarrassment to both Charlie and me. It's pretty difficult to be on good terms with someone whose behavior is so motivated by self-interest. The only time I ever hear from her is when she needs something from me, which is rarely. Renee's behavior is probably the main reason I am reserved and cautious when I meet new people—I think she ingrained in me a sense of mistrust. When I was young, every time she would call or show up unannounced, I kept thinking she wanted back in my life because she loved and missed me. But, of course, she never stayed for long, and I would end up feeling like my heart had been trampled upon yet again. As I grew up, I quickly learned not to put any trust in her actions, as a means to protect myself from getting hurt by her anymore.

Cognitively, I know and understand that Renee's behavior isn't my fault. I mean, she was the adult, I was the child. I can remind myself until I'm blue in the face that none of this is my fault. The problem with this, however, is that there is a small part of my brain where Baby Bella still lives, the Baby Bella who continues to be convinced that the real reason Renee left was because I was unlovable. Think about it: Your mother is supposed to be the one person on earth who doesn't give up on you. Ever. If your mother leaves you when you are a baby—an age when you are supposed to be universally cute and adorable—it has to be your own fault, right? Well, no matter how hard I try to talk myself out of believing that tiny voice in my brain, it has never been fully silenced. I'm not sure it ever will. It is a direct result of Renee's actions that I cannot imagine anyone ever falling in love with me. It's that simple. I know it is illogical, irrational, and just plain incorrect to bend to that line of thinking, but I have to be honest and admit that it is still the way I feel.

Of course, in the midst of thinking about persons I need to be on good terms with, the image Old Green Eyes pops into my head. I seriously need to talk to someone about the settings for my mind's internal wallpaper—I would really love for it to be anything BUT Edward Cullen's green eyes. He was such an asshat yesterday, acting all high and mighty. Like we commoners are scum of the earth and he doesn't have time in his busy schedule to bother with us. I'm feeling more than a little bit irked with Max Ehrmann. I'd really like to smack him on the side of the head and knock some sense into him. Seriously, if he ever met someone like Edward Cullen, I'm pretty certain that he would never have included that statement in his Desiderata. I mean, really, how can you even treat someone like that with anything but contempt? He virtually begs to be mistreated!

Okay, Bella, you've probably kneaded the Bella's Buns dough long enough—you're going to end up with Buns of Steel if you don't cool it. Dammit—that asshat makes me angry and he isn't even here!

In the blink of an eye, one of my favorite quotes randomly pops into my head, "Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die." I can't remember who said it, but that isn't important right now. What is important is that I realize that I'm the one taking the poison here, and that Edward Cullen is certainly not in any danger of dying.

Okay, Ehrmann, point taken. I'm kinda poisoning myself by letting Edward Cullen piss me off. He doesn't even truly know I exist. He will never remember our little exchange in the café yesterday. I'm getting worked up by someone who has no ability to even acknowledge how much he pisses me off. I'd better let this one go and remind myself that the same goes for Renee. I'm just poisoning myself over this shit, which isn't hurting either one of them. The light bulb finally goes on.

So, I guess I need to do a better job of giving both Edward and Renee the benefit of the doubt the next time their paths intersect with mine. It won't be easy, but I can do that if I have to. If it helps me achieve a greater level of happiness, it's worth the effort. It just doesn't make sense to continue poisoning myself with resentment.

I take a deep, cleansing breath and set the Bella's Buns dough aside to rise. I take the butter out of the fridge to soften for my other baked goods and refill my mug of coffee. Shit, that makes 8 cups. No wonder my hands are shaking so badly! I read the next line:

Speak your truth quietly and clearly

That's something I do without even thinking about it. My verbal filter isn't the best, to put it mildly, so I always state my truth. It is usually done quietly, and hopefully done clearly. Truth isn't a problem for Bella Swan, that's for sure.

and listen to the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.

On the best of days, I'm not the most patient person on the planet. That's why Alice is our barista, and I'm in back with the dough. We both relate very well with our particular clientele. Clearly, I'm a smartass (my statement of the day shirts are proof positive of this fact). But I do need to remind myself that everyone has a story to tell. I recall that Anne Frank wrote about humanity that, "I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are still truly good at heart." If, after months of fleeing and hiding from the Nazis, and eventually being sent to Auschwitz to die, Anne Frank could have faith in humanity, then perhaps I can, too. If that doesn't put things into perspective, I don't know what will. Okay Anne; I'll give it a go, for your sake.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit.

I snort out loud as I read this line—seriously, you do not need to convince me to avoid loud and aggressive persons. I already do that all on my own. They are totally vexatious to the spirit, as I can personally attest, just remembering Jessica and Lauren's behavior yesterday. Yep, I can keep avoiding them. It's all good.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Come to think of it. I constantly compare myself to others. While I haven't become vain, I am, perhaps, a little bitter, because I always think everyone else looks so much better than me. I'm not sure where my self-effacing nature comes from, but it is clearly embedded within my psyche, just as deeply as reporters were embedded with the troops in Iraq. Come to think of it, my psyche could probably use an anti-flak jacket, too. It helps a little bit to imagine that, no matter who you are, there are always people you consider to be greater and lesser than yourself. Part of this issue is tied to how good you feel about yourself, and I have to admit that I am pretty scathing when it comes to critiquing my own assets and liabilities. Okay, I guess this needs some serious work, too.

So, I need to be nicer to Renee and Edward Cullen (if ever I see him again), I need to do a better job being patient with other people, and I need to quit comparing myself to everyone else and accept myself as I am. Well, Mr. Ehrmann, you have given me quite a workload for the next few days. I think I'll work on this before I start to tackle the rest of Desiderata. No need to bite off more than I can chew—that would just result in a big, goobery mess. Gross.

I am so lost in thought and listening to Jack White strum away that I don't hear Alice when she appears behind me. I'm in the middle of cracking eggs into the mixer when I feel her tap on my shoulder. I scream at the top of my lungs and eggs go flying in all directions. I whip off my headphones immediately.

"Alice, what the hell?! You know better than to sneak up on me when the iPod is on! Now I'm never going to get these sticky eggs wiped up!"

Alice just giggles at the expression on my face, already grabbing a towel to clean up the mess.

"Bella, how in the hell else am I supposed to let you know that I'm here when you are deep in thought and your tunes are cranked up to 11?" she says, sporting a very spritely little grin.

"Okay, point taken. I guess it's kind of my own fault for getting into the zone, anyhow. When I get focused, you know how hard it is for me to break away."

"Yes, Bella, I do know, based upon a wealth of experience. Do you need you need your coffee topped off?"

"Yeah, actually, that would be great. So, what's new in your neck of Wonderland? Any new dreams you need to share?"

Something catches Alice's attention, and she looks at me with a furrowed brow. "Wait a minute, I haven't seen that shirt before. Let me guess, you got it just so you could wear it to work, didn't you? Just to bug me!" She sighed with exasperation.

I couldn't help myself. I started snorting. "You know me way too well, Speedy Gonzales! OF COURSE I bought it solely for you! I knew how much it would piss you off! It's the best way I have to show my love and appreciation for you, my dear little Alice," I say as I put a dot of flour on the tip of her nose.

Alice just sighs, shakes her head, and heads over to the coffee pot. I hear a little squeaky noise erupt from her throat.

"Jeez, Bella, you already drank a whole pot of coffee?"

I quickly look over towards Alice to see her pour out the last remains of the coffee into her mug.

"Wow, I guess I wasn't really paying attention to my intake this morning. I'm pretty beat. It doesn't feel like I've had that much; I keep waiting for the caffeine to kick in, and it just doesn't."

"Did you sleep badly again? Nightmares?"

I blush deeply, because my mind acknowledges that my sleeping badly is due to one thing, and one thing only: An OCD-like obsession with Edward Cullen and his motherfucking green eyes. This soundtrack to my life is getting really old, even if it has only been playing for about 24 hours, and I briefly consider turning it in for a newer model. I sigh, then laugh humorlessly, knowing that my mind is going to be stuck on Edward Cullen for some time to come.

*******************

APOV

The last 24 hours have been the most surreal of my life. I mean, first of all I have that dream about Bella and Edward Cullen's green eyes. I swear, when I turned the corner and saw him looking at Bella, it was like an instant replay of my dream—total déjà vu. My dream versus reality bit doesn't usually match so closely, so that kind of freaks me out. What surprises me even more, though, was the way the dream made me feel. I woke up with this sense of calm and peace, but it was all stemming from Bella. As though I had been Bella in the dream, and I felt the green eyes staring into the depths of my soul. For some reason, I can't shake that feeling, even after 24 hours. Every time I look over at Bella, I am drawn into that feeling once again. I can't put my finger on it, which is why I'm so agitated right now. I need to figure this out, for Bella's sake.

Bella has been my best friend, as close to me as a sister, for as long as I can remember. She is the truest, most loyal friend anyone could ask for. She is intelligent, hard-working, always puts everyone else first, and never really complains. She is the deepest thinker I know, and it worries me sometimes when she gets too wrapped up in her own thoughts. I feel like she has become more intense since my parents died; she is funny to a fault, but part of her light, easy-going humor died along with my parents. Her humor definitely became darker. That was a little over five years ago, but it is time for us to start living again. The café keeps us both very busy, but a little too busy. Having only one day off a week just isn't enough. I'm going to have to talk about Emmett about the possibility of getting some help with the café so that we don't have to rely so heavily upon ourselves. I mean, if you make yourself irreplaceable, you will be. I would like very much to be replaceable at some point, I really would.

I catch myself smiling at that last thought, because there is one specific reason I wish to be replaceable, and his name is Jasper Whitlock. I know it's crazy for me to even put that wish into my head, because we both live in such different worlds. He is a freaking movie star, for goodness' sake—I own and manage a coffee shop. In what universe does someone as amazing as Jasper date someone like me? Yet, even as I think that, I remember how captivating his gaze was, and I know it was zeroed in on me. His blonde, dreamy, wavy hair, was just begging to have my hands run through it. His clear blue eyes were the most perfect shade of blue I've ever seen, but their gaze was both kind and intense. His physique was so tall and lean. I noticed he has great fashion sense; I also noticed how sexy those low-riding jeans of his were, and how nicely they showed off his "package." I think the most alluring thing about him, though, was his smile. It was wide open, friendly, and genuine. Best of all, it was framed by those beautiful lips. The moment his eyes captured mine, I swear I heard a voice in my head, loud and clear, saying, "You're mine. You always have been." I know it isn't normal to hear voices in your head; I'm definitely not crazy. But I've had enough strange things happen in my life that I've begun to just accept the implausible, whenever or wherever it shows up. It makes my life easier to cope with when I do. With that in mind, I plan to pay close attention to Bella in the coming days to help her understand the significance of my dream. I also plan to follow Jasper Whitlock anywhere he wants to lead me. He is like my own personal Pied Piper. I couldn't resist him if I tried, and I'm certainly not going to try. Period.

Bella's hand waving in front of my face snaps me back to reality, pronto.

"God, Bells, I'm sorry. I'm just a little preoccupied this morning."

"All I said is that it would be great if you could pour us another cup of coffee—it's been done brewing for about 5 minutes now, and my hands are full of sticky eggs and greasy butter. I was trying to give you time to return back to earth from wherever you were, but I had to intervene because the spaceship looked like it lost its way back home."

I giggled loudly at Bella's comment. She is the funniest person on the planet, and she never fails to put me in a good mood.

"Well, thanks for being my homing beacon, Bella—I'd never make it past the front door without your support and guidance, you know!"

"Well, Thumbelina, with your tiny little body being pint-sized, someone has to look out for you!"

"I know you've got my back Bella, even if I'm tougher than you are. Thanks, sweetie." I hand her what is likely her 7th mug of coffee so far today, and return to the front to get set up for the day, whatever it brings my way.

*******************

I'm heading off to work tonight for a week of night shifts…I will try to have the next chapter ready sometime next week. It all depends upon how much sleep I get (Bella isn't the only one hooked on caffeine here!). Chapter 7 is called, "Plans," and will feature mainly Edward, Rose, and Jasper.

For those of you who don't know, I also have a one-shot story, "Like A Virgin," that is an entry in the "Age of Edward" contest. Check it out at: http://www(DOT)fanfiction(DOT)net/s/5108751/1/Like_a_Virgin

The EPOV to the story, "Frankie Say Relax," is at:

http://www(DOT)fanfiction(DOT)net/s/5124842/1/Frankie_Say_Relax

Obviously, replace the "(DOT)" with a real dot…