DESIDERATA

A/N: Sorry it took so long to post this chapter. I've been obsessed with writing one-shots for contests. They're referenced in the end note if anyone is interested in reading them.

Beck's Mutations reference is especially for ManiacalMuse.

Things I own: A Cheshire Cat lawn ornament. I kid you not, it's sitting in my back yard right now.

Things I don't own: Anything Twilight, it all belongs to Ms. Meyer.

A very special THANK YOU to NaughtySparkle and Heelstominivan for agreeing to read this through ahead of time, so I (hopefully) won't be making eyes bleed with typos or grammatical errors.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: STALEMATE

"Parentage is a very important profession, but no test of fitness for it is ever imposed in the interest of the children." – George Bernard Shaw

BPOV

As I make my way to Jasper's cabin, leaving Edward behind in the parking lot, angry tears start to fall down my cheeks. I'm pissed off that I'm crying. I know better than to react like this; Renee shouldn't have the ability to induce my tears anymore. It is no surprise that I'm feeling really overwhelmed. I need my music. I need my baking. I need my thinking time. I need to be alone. I need to process just what in the hell is happening to my life since Edward Cullen came to town and turned everything upside down.

I need Emmett, and he's been knocking boots with Rosalie for the past 48 hours straight. I need Alice, and she's been doing lord knows what with Jasper. All I have at this very moment is a fucked up triad of players, Edward, Renee and James, and I don't want any of them. I just want me. It reminds me of my favorite Gertrude Stein quote: "Let me listen to me and not to them." I feel boxed in, and I need a respite. Right fucking now.

I stop abruptly, a few feet away from Jasper's door. I remind myself that I can't find Alice to have her make my world right again, because she is undoubtedly with Jasper. She has finally found someone who can appreciate her for all her lovely eccentricities, and I have no right to interrupt that process. Since I went ahead and put on my big girl pants a while ago, I rapidly decide that I need to deal with this on my own. I turn around and walk towards my truck. Anyone who might be watching my progress over the past 5 minutes would likely conclude that I am schizophrenic, the way I keep zigzagging everywhere, muttering to myself.

My truck is the one place in the world where I can go and be completely alone. As I'm walking in its direction, it occurs to me that this is probably one of the main reasons Americans love their cars so much—it's like being ruler of your very own domain. No one can invade your privacy in a car, unless you invite them in. I decide that's definitely why I love my truck so dang much. I unlock the door and crawl inside, literally aching with the need to just unwind. I feel like I'm on a carnival ride, and all I want to do is scream out, "Stop the ride! Lemme off for a minute!" I wonder if it is possible to get off this ride called life, even for a little while. I sigh deeply when I realize how ridiculous that idea is, but I still wish it was true.

There are people in the world who become energized via human interactions, and those whose energy becomes drained because of it. I'm the kind of person who needs to simply back away from all the commotion and recharge my batteries frequently. That's why my lifestyle is so perfect—I have all that quiet time in the mornings to be alone with my thoughts and process life. I cannot mull things over in the midst of a sea of people, my mind just gets too rattled. That may be the explanation for my Bella's Bun sticky finger tirade with Edward not long ago. Seriously, what the fuck was I thinking? You don't just walk up to a casual acquaintance and spit that kind of shit out! I feel myself blush over the memory.

As I sit alone, I hear the rain pouring on the roof of my car. It is one of the most soothing sounds I know. When I was a little girl, I would snuggle into my bed at night and listen to the rain falling on the rooftop. Nestled in my bed, warm and dry, I always felt so safe. I knew that Charlie was in the room next to me, and that I would be protected no matter what happened. Whenever I hear the sound of rain, I immediately go back to that safe place. If only life was really that easy—just a matter of finding one's safe haven in the world. The older I get, the more I realize that figuring it all out is very hard work, and I'm not sure if it will ever happen for me. Despite my reliance upon Desiderata, my life feels like it is one big mess. I feel like I owe Max Ehrmann an apology for bringing shame to his beautiful words.

I rummage through my backpack and grab my iPod. Shit, it needs to be charged soon. I can never remember to do that often enough. I pop in my ear buds and scroll over to Beck. Mutations really suits my mood. I briefly consider the Smiths' Hatful of Hollow, but I'm not feeling suicidal just yet. The Smiths can wait for their turn another day; Beck has the floor for the moment. I turn it on, crank up the volume, and sit back to absorb the music. My favorite thing about my iPod is that it feels like the music is literally flowing through my body—so crisp and clean. The music washes over me, and I lose myself in it.

My eyes open suddenly, and I notice it is very quiet. Too quiet. All I can hear is silence. Then I realize why: The rain has stopped. Thank you baby jeebus, my life can go back to normal. I let out a huge sigh of relief. With that action, I become suddenly aware that my body feels like it was hit by a Mack truck, and my ears are in absolute pain. Fuck me, I fell asleep with my ear buds in. On top of that, my iPod is completely dead. Just fuck my life. Seriously.

My phone rings and jars me completely awake. Charlie.

"Hey sheriff, what's new?"

"Well, the rain finally stopped for a while. They've been working on the roads to get them open. I'm wondering if you're going to try to come home today."

"Yeah, actually, I am. Have you gotten any sleep at all? Have you eaten?"

"Bells, just remember I'm the parent here. I got a little shut-eye, but I need your coffee. I think I ate, but I can't remember."

"Damn it, Charlie! We've talked about this before! You have to take better care of yourself! I'm well aware that saying you don't remember if you've eaten is CharlieSpeak for 'No, I haven't.'"

"You catch me every time, don't you? Yeah, well, I can eat later. What time do you think you'll get back?"

"Probably not until tonight. I need to wait for the roads to clear and get things tied up over here."

I'm waiting for Charlie to ask the one question he called to discuss. Typical Charlie fashion is that we'll have an entire conversation about nothing in general, and he'll sneak it in at the end. I decide to help him out a little bit.

"Oh, and dad? I did see Renee. She came and found me." I omit the information about her hanging with James. Charlie doesn't have to know that shit, it will just make him feel bad. He already has enough on his plate without that nasty little tidbit.

"I figured she probably would. Are you okay?"

"You know what? I really am. I told her off, and left her standing there. Plus, Jasper told me that Edward has banned Renee from the set and anything associated with the film, so there is one less thing to worry about."

"Did he? I'm impressed; it was awfully nice of him to do that."

"I know. His gesture really surprised me, because he can be kind of a jerk. I really didn't expect that from him."

"Now play nice, daughter. He really deserves your respect for doing something like that. He sure didn't need to."

"I know, dad, I know. I'm doing my best with that. Really. Listen, I need to go find Alice and things figured out. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Yep, see you kiddo. Just promise to stay safe and drive carefully. Be sure to call if you need anything."

"Of course, dad. Love you."

I lean over to take a peek at myself in the mirror, and abruptly regret the action. I look like death, minus the long robe. And the skeletal visage. And the skeletal body. Whatever. I fuss with my hair, and pull it back into a ponytail. It's the only feasible option for the moment. Before I run over to Jasper's cabin and interrupt anything, I send Alice a text to see if she is awake and available.

U awake yet? Rain is over. Txt me when u r.

I set my phone down on the car seat and wait for a response. My phone buzzes.

I'm up bb. Bfast?

YES! M-fing hungry.

Can J come?

Duh. Meet me there in a few, k?

K. ILY, bb.

U2.

I hop out of my car and trudge on over to the River's Edge to grab a table. We have logistics to figure out. Now that I have the perspective of time (about 7 hours), sleep (even though I feel like shit), and distance (I have no fucking idea where Edward Cullen might be at the moment), I think through the array of exchanges between Edward and I from yesterday. To say I feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland would be putting it mildly. I honestly feel as though I spent the day growing larger and shrinking back down over and over again. There was just no way I could make sense of any of it while it was happening. As Kierkegaard once said, "Life must be lived forwards, but it can only be understood backwards."

So, if I'm understanding this backwards, I recognize that:

I kissed Edward;

I poked Edward's massively hard peen;

I gave Edward a Bella's Bun and mumbled a bunch of nonsense about sticky fingers;

Edward kissed me;

A Fantasia-like flood occurred;

Renee and James broke up our kiss.

Hmm. Still doesn't help. I remain confused about the entire day's events. Why do Edward and I keep smirking and snarking at each other? Did the universe decide to assign us starring roles in each other's lives, destined to make us both miserable? How can I possibly be so attracted to him, yet despise him, all in the same breath?

I decide that I need to at least be honest with myself about the fact that he is undeniably attractive, and as a result, I am undeniably attracted to him. And his kisses, I get the shivers just remembering his kisses. How can I possibly kiss anyone else after a fucking zinger like that? His words replay in my mind, over and over: You fucking mesmerize my very soul, Bella Swan, did you know that? What the hell am I supposed to do with that kind of information? Especially when my body starts reenacting the Sorcerer's Apprentice from Fantasia every time I think about it? Having resigned myself to the fact that I was never, ever going to fall in love, I find my feelings for Edward to be annoyingly uncooperative with my original life plans.

I sigh deeply as I walk into the restaurant; I think I just need to regroup with Alice and move forward with our new logistical plans post-torrential rain. I order a cup of their nasty ass coffee, which just leaves me pining for Alice's delicious caffeinated nectar. Anything is better than the gut rot shit I'm drinking right now. It is so acidic I feel like it is eating a hole in my stomach already.

I see Alice and Jasper arriving, and wave at them to come join me. They both have sunny smiles on their faces despite the weather, so I don't need to guess what they've been up to. Alice appears to be imitating a glow worm, she is so ebullient. It's impossible not to absorb the waves of positive energy she is beaming forth. They slide in and giggle—yes, giggle. Jasper is giggling like a first grade girl! I decide I must still be down the rabbit hole in Wonderland, because life just ain't normal when you hear Jasper Whitlock giggle like a little girl.

"Hey, small fry, you're sure in a good mood this morning."

"As they say, Bells, I'm feeling no pain." She turns and nuzzles into Jasper's chest.

"Well then, I'm glad I decided to sleep in my truck last night. I'm grateful to avoid any brain bleaching that may have been necessary if I had walked in on you two!" They both giggle again. Seriously, this is just weird.

We order our breakfast and make small talk. My mind is only half-occupied with the conversation as I look around the restaurant to gauge the scene. I'm surprised to see Jake has wandered in with—OMG no fucking way!—Tanya Denali. They look…cozy. Note to self: remember to ask Jake what the hell is going on there. As I'm checking out Jake, I see Edward walk in with a couple of familiar faces. I don't know who they are, but I recognize them from the set. I ask Jasper about this.

"Hey Jazz, who are those guys Edward just walked in with?"

"Oh, it's a couple of production people and the Assistant Director—he needs to get his logistics all re-configured because of the rain delays. Edward hates when things go awry, so I know he's been trying to get everything reorganized since the rain stopped last night."

"He sure doesn't waste any time, does he?"

"Edward is all about organization. I know the rain was driving him crazy."

I look over at Edward, and he looks all serious and determined again, like usual. He has his Moleskine open, and is jotting notes in it as he shakes his head at his Assistant Director. I find myself blushing over the memory of my likeness sketched in that very notebook. As I'm blushing and staring, Edward happens to look up at me. I quickly dart my eyes elsewhere, so it appears as though I was looking at something else, but let's face it—I was caught red-handed. I can feel my blush intensifying. I catch Edward walking towards our table in my peripheral vision, and feel the butterflies take up residence in my stomach. That same, intense, dual feeling of aching to see him, yet dreading it, appears as well.

"Morning, Jasper. Ladies." Edward states with his standard terseness, while sliding into the booth and settling in next to me.

"Hey dude. Did you get any sleep last night?"

Edward looks me in the eye before answering Jasper's question. "Not much. I'm trying to get reorganized, but things are still pretty fucked up due to the road being washed out."

"I talked to my dad this morning, and he mentioned that they've been working on it overnight. There shouldn't be a problem driving between here and Forks by later today."

My comments cause Edward to frown, and I cannot imagine why he is upset with what I've said. I thought he would be happy to get back on track.

"So you weren't planning to stay at the Ocean Side any longer?"

"Well, there is really no need to anymore, since the rain has stopped. I'm kind of anxious to get back home to my normal routine."

"Yes, I imagine you are quickly becoming bored with the requirements of a movie shoot."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? I just want to sleep in my own bed and dress in clean clothes. What's wrong with that?"

Edward rolls his eyes at me. "You just seemed delighted to get away from all this so quickly."

I sigh. "Whatever, Edward. I just need to get back to the café so I can make up for the lost time I spent here. You seem to forget that I have other responsibilities to worry about."

Jasper and Alice both tense up and work furiously to defuse the situation. They nearly talk over one another trying to calm both of us down. Jasper is the first to get a word in edgewise. "Edward, I thought Eric had contingency plans drawn up for inclement weather—can't you just adopt those?"

Alice blurts out her piece the minute Jasper finishes. "Bella, you don't need to drive yourself that hard; it isn't like the weather is going to cause people to run to the café in droves. Emmett left a sign in the window informing people we'd be closed until the weather improves. It isn't like this is the first time we've experienced bad weather on the Olympic Peninsula, after all."

Before I can respond to either Alice or Jasper, something draws my attention—Renee stumbles into the restaurant with James, both looking freshly fucked. Oh hell no, please god just make it go away! Fuck me, why, oh why did this woman give birth to me? Why couldn't I have a real mom, like Esme? Edward nudges me gently and gives me a look of silent sympathy. I give him a gentle smile. Our recent smirkiness and snarkiness is momentarily forgotten. It is clear that the four members of our table just took a silent team vote, and that vote is to ignore Renee and James.

The problem with trying to ignore Renee is that she is exceedingly difficult to ignore. She is loud, bordering on the point of obnoxious. The things I overhear her saying are mortifying.

Oh, I know, can you believe my baby girl is working on the set of a big movie?

I walked in on her kissing the DIRECTOR! (Followed by extremely loud cackle)

Yes, isn't it great that she's meeting all these rich and famous people? I'm trying to get her to introduce me to some of them! Who knows where that might lead?

Seriously, how do I share any of this woman's DNA? It is exceedingly gratifying to know that I follow after my father, regardless of how embarrassing this woman is. I can at least take comfort in that. Although Renee has never been one to read social cues, she wisely avoids coming over to speak with me. She has an uncanny sense of self-preservation, for someone who seems to care so little about what other people think. She is a grade A piece of work.

I look over at Edward and it looks like he is going to be sick. I feel just as nauseated, to be honest. It does occur to me that with a mother like Renee, the likelihood of someone like Edward Cullen falling in love with me is slim. Who could ever put up with something like that? With the cruelty of the tabloids, life in the public eye, and a company profile to maintain, that I could envision this type of lifestyle is laughable. I need to be pragmatic about all of this, and set my sights back where they belong: Forks, Washington. I need to stop getting my hopes up about any kind of life besides that, because my mother is a major liability. God knows, she's affected my life in Forks enough; imagine what kind of tabloid fodder she could produce in LA.

Edward excuses himself, and it is clear to me he simply wants to escape from me and my ridiculous mother. He merely nods and walks back to his table. Alice reaches across the booth and squeezes my hand. In that one, small gesture, she communicates understanding of all that has been running through my mind. What more could one ask for in a best friend? She is everything to me, and at least I know I will never lose Alice's love and respect—I will always be able to count on her. She is my rock.

Our breakfast arrives and we discuss logistics over pancakes, eggs, and bacon. I let Alice know of my intention to head back to Forks, and she has decided to remain at the Oceanside until tomorrow morning. I plan to get back into my regular schedule tomorrow morning and open up the café, then head to the set. Jasper kindly volunteers to relay this information to Edward, saving me the trouble of having to speak with him following my mother's outburst. I take some comfort in that.

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

My alarm sounds off, and I roll out of bed. While I am as tired as usual, I am also grateful for a return to my routine. I'm such a creature of habit, and find my daily grind to be reassuring; at least I know what to expect day in and day out. It feels very appropriate to select the t-shirt that says, Instant Human (Just Add Coffee) this morning. Yes, Edward Cullen, that states exactly how approachable I am today.

As I get into my baking routine, I decide to crank up the soundtrack for Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist. It makes me happy, and since there is so little else that is going positively in my life right now, it's the perfect choice to bolster my mood artificially. I'm deliberately trying to keep my mind quiet and still; so much has happened in my life, particularly in the past 48 hours, I am in danger of becoming Queen of the Emos if I don't slow things down. I simply need to focus on being in the moment and forget the rest of the shit that is my life.

I go out front to grab some more coffee and notice that there is someone standing at the front door, banging loudly. I didn't hear them with my music cranked up; I never expect anyone to show up before our official hours of operation. I sigh to myself and walk over to the door so I can inform them we won't be open for several hours. When I get to the door, I recognize that the person standing in front of me is none other than Esme Cullen. She is standing next to a beautiful, impeccably tailored man. I quickly pull out my ear buds and unlock the door frantically.

"Oh my god, Esme, what are you doing here at…" I briefly look at the clock on the wall for reference. "5:15 AM?"

"Bella, we're so sorry to intrude. We're on our way to see Edward, and this is the only place around that sells good coffee, so we thought we would try to coerce you to let us in for coffee and your delicious buns."

I snort out loud at her, because of the way she emphasizes the word "buns." While she says it, she puts out her hands and gestures as though she is pinching someone's buns. Now this is they way a real mother should behave.

"For you, Esme, I would stay open 24 hours a day and wait on you hand and foot. By all means, come in. Please."

"I'd like to introduce you to my husband, Carlisle Cullen. Carlisle, this is the lovely young woman I told you about, Bella Swan." Carlisle beams a perfect smile at me and reaches out to shake my hand. I look at them in amazement, thinking they are the ideal parents. It also makes me give Edward a little more benefit of the doubt, begrudgingly. With parents like these, there has to be more than meets the eye with him. They are beautiful, intelligent, smart, and kind. It isn't possible that two such fine specimens of human perfection could have damaged offspring.

I walk them over to a table and excuse myself to grab some warm buns. I plate the baked goods and bring them out to my waiting customers.

"Here you go, these are actually still warm, so they are at their peak perfection. Please, enjoy them. I have to apologize that I can only get you brewed coffee, not espresso drinks. I'm afraid my expertise in the coffee area is limited. They don't usually let me out in public, after all."

"Bella, we so appreciate your letting us in! Honestly, we'll take whatever you are willing to give us at this point. Brewed coffee sounds heavenly!"

It suddenly dawns on me as unusual that Esme and Carlisle are in Forks this morning. I know they are very hands-off producers, trusting in Edward's judgment, based upon comments Esme made to me when we met, so I wonder to myself what brings them here.

"I'm kind of surprised to see you here this morning. What brings you back to Forks?"

"Well, the rain storm really messed up Edward's filming schedule, and there are naturally some cost overruns associated with these delays, so we had to fly in to help Edward get things reorganized and back on track financially. It doesn't make sense to have him worry about all the budget items; it is more important that his focus remain on his work. We're just here to support him towards that end."

"Ms. Swan, I have to say, these are the best buns I've ever had—I'm happy to report that Esme wasn't exaggerating in the least when she sang your praises to me. Our staff and crew are lucky to have your talent serving them during the shoot." I blush at Carlisle's compliment.

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen. That is such a nice thing to say."

"Please, for the record, call me Carlisle."

"Certainly, Carlisle. Let me go grab some coffee to go with your buns." I make the same gesture to Carlisle that Esme made to me earlier, the motion of pinching a pair of buns, and we all laugh together. I pour them both some coffee, then explain to them that I need to continue with my baking if I have any hope of being prepared to run the coffee cart this morning. They both graciously allow me to bow out, deciding to take their coffee and buns to go. I refuse to let them pay for any of it.

As they reach the front door, Esme turns to me and gives me a big hug, which I was hardly expecting—I am full of flour and lord knows what else. She whispers in my ear, "Just remember, you are a remarkable young woman, Bella Swan." I simply return her hug and thank her.

Carlisle puts a hand gently on my shoulder and gives me a beautiful, easy smile, saying, "It was such a pleasure to meet you, Bella. You do have the best buns around." He gives me a half smile as he says that, and it is the spitting image of the same smirk Edward gives me all the time. Well, it is no surprise who Edward's father is!

I lock the door behind them and head back towards the kitchen. It is only then that I see a one hundred dollar bill sitting on the table where Carlisle and Esme had been just moments previously. I shake my head and sigh, deciding to figure out a way to get the money back to them in the future.

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

Chaos is the only thing raining on the set this morning. Although Edward Cullen had anticipated being well-prepared for filming today, the reality clearly does not meet with his expectations. My job is not to criticize, however, but to serve coffee and goodies, so I stick to what I know best. I'm slightly amused that things aren't going completely according to plan, because it is probably good for Edward to deal with real life every now and then.

Around 10:00 AM, there is a mad rush for the coffee cart; apparently, they are breaking in order to allow the camera crew to reposition the set up. I'm so busy serving goodies, I don't notice what's behind me. Suddenly, I hear someone smacking their lips, followed by a liquid velvet voice I have come to know so well, whispering in my ear.

"By the way, your buns do have a tendency to make one's fingers incredibly sticky. I'm not even sure that licking it off will do the trick. Do you suppose you could give me a hand getting my fingers clean?" Smirky has fully reappeared, Ladies and Gentlemen.

I feel my face flush red. I turn to see Edward's smirk in full bloom, and he starts laughing at my body's response. It takes me a beat or two before I'm able to answer him.

"If you recall, Mr. Cullen, I expressly told you that I wanted your hands all over my buns, and that I wanted to lick your sticky fingers. But when I told you that, we were all alone. I don't know if it is appropriate to engage in such behavior in front of your cast and crew." Snarky tosses it right back at you, baby.

"I'm certainly willing to take my chances if you are, Ms. Swan."

Before I have time to respond, I hear someone clearing their throat in front of me. James.

"I'd be happy to help you with your buns, ma'am." I feel sick to my stomach looking at his lecherous stare.

"Thank you, James, but this kind gentleman has already volunteered to assist me, so I won't require your services today." Take that, motherfucker.

Edward suddenly appears to be uncomfortable and excuses himself, leaving me alone with James.

"You know, you seem like a very smart girl, Isabella. I'm surprised that you're letting someone like Edward Cullen pull the wool over your eyes."

"I'm sorry? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you have to understand that he's going to pull up stakes and return back to his comfy little world once filming is complete. You're a nice little toy to play with in the meantime. It happens every time."

"What do you mean, 'it happens every time.'"

"Edward Cullen's on-set dalliances are world famous. Surely you heard about he and Tanya Denali on the last movie they did together."

"No, actually, I didn't."

"Oh, well, they had a tempestuous affair during their last movie, it was all over the papers. Once the movie was over, so was their affair, but Tanya seemed to think that Edward had committed to a long-term relationship. Edward conveniently did not recall those specific details. And it isn't as though Tanya was the first. Go do some research, you'll find out all about it." He gave me a very greasy grin at the end of his little "explanation."

I try very hard to tell myself that the source of this information is James. The same James I've seen hanging out with Renee. The same James who broke Kate Cullen's heart. The same James who complains about his golden handcuffs from Masen Masterworks. I find, however, that the little voice inside me that tries to convince me of James' wayward motivations is too small to make up for the enormous wall of doubt that he just planted in my brain. I shouldn't trust him, and I don't, really, except that what he's telling me makes so much sense. Once again, I'm merely a baker girl from Forks, Washington. I'm Plain Jane. I am a completely unremarkable person. What could someone like Edward Cullen possibly want with me? He's simply flirting for fun, because he can, because it is what he's used to doing. It would never make sense for someone like him to want someone like me.

I look up at James, and see a sense of satisfaction register on his face, as though he has just accomplished a noble deed. He turned someone against Edward Cullen, thus the victory is his. He just gives me a nod of his head, and walks away, leaving the world to collapse in on me.

END NOTE: For all the pervs out there who just want some hot smut, here are the links to my contest entry one-shots:

Parkaward (Featuring uncut peen): http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/5250127/1/The_GreenEyed_Monster_Comes_Out_to_Play

Tattward (Featuring REALLY graphic lemon, not for the weak hearted. Just sayin'): http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/5260075/1/Underneath_it_A

Just remember to replace the (dot) with a period when you copy it into your browser.