Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just decided it was time to shake things up a bit in her characters' world. And I wanted a bitchy Bella, so here we go!
Oh, and all of the references used in this story in relation to the advertising and marketing company and accounts are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended.
Thank you to the following people: Angelicwish, who has gone above and beyond the call of duty to provide this insecure writer with loads of feedback, advice, beta services and great conversations; Lita for coming back to me (*waves hi*) and to Jen – I'm so glad we reconnected! Love you!
Sorry for the lengthy delay, my loves! My comp broke so I was confined to writing at work…which did not work out so well, obviously. I hope the longer chapter makes up for it!
In case any of you are wondering, here are some fics that are completely devastating me right now (please go check them out on FanFiction or Twilighted) – Expectations and Other Moving Pieces by chrometurtle; Tre by my sweetie Megsly (update soon!); The Blessing and the Curse by The_Black_Arrow and The Misapprehension of Bella Swan (Regarding the Inferior Intellect of Hockey Whores) by hunterhunting. My list of favorites is getting ridiculous. Just read these. You're welcome.
A hello as well to sassygirl156 for naming Sweetward! Aww. A special thank you to Forever_Liz, Megsly and barburella, and my new ficwife SusanAshlea for being awesome in general.
I'm not going to lie to you, because that's not my style. This chapter won't be lemony piece of cake. Just so ya know.
Follow me on Twitter people! LauraLoo77
Chapter Twenty-six: Growing pains
My mind was clear, the decision made. As soon as I'd eaten and thanked Esme for a delicious impromptu meal, I excused myself and raced home, yelling as I ran out that I'd call her later. My townhouse was eerily quiet, but I ignored that sad fact and started packing. Random items were thrown into my duffel bag: jeans, shorts, jackets, sweaters, t-shirts. I didn't waste any time considering the dreary weather in Forks. Then I called Charlie.
"Hey, Bells! How ya doing? What's going on?" My father's voice was like a cup of cocoa on a cold winter day, and I smiled in silent reply before answering him.
"Hi, Dad. I'm okay," I began, unsure of how to broach the subject and explain my plan. "I'm sorry to call you so late. Are you busy?"
"Nah. I was just watching the Seahawks get whooped by the Giants," he said with a sigh."It's just not their year. So what's new honey?"
"Well, that's kind of why I'm calling," I said. Come on girl. Just suck it up and spit it out. "I was wondering if…I was thinking I'd come out for a visit for a few days."
"Really? Bells, that's great! You haven't been home in…" Charlie didn't finish his sentence, but the implication was clear. I hadn't been home in ages. "Bella, is everything alright? Not that I don't appreciate you wanting to visit, but what's the occasion?"
Charlie had always been a good cop and a very observant one at that; it was what made him a great police chief. Shit. "Never bullshit a cop, kiddo," he'd always said.
"Well, I just think I need a little R and R, you know? A little time away from work to clear my head and take stock of things," I said. It wasn't a lie. It just wasn't the entire truth. "And I just thought it might be nice to visit." I threw that last part in for effect, knowing full well that Charlie Swan couldn't say no to his daughter.
"Of course, honey," he answered quickly. "When you coming?"
I hesitated briefly before answering, fearful that my urgency would tip him off to a larger problem. But what else could I do? The need to flee was overwhelming.
"Would tonight be too late, Dad?" I asked hesitantly, before quickly adding, "I just thought it would be nice to have breakfast at the diner in the morning – before you go fishing."
My father always went fishing early Saturday mornings. It was his only day off and it was tradition. Silently I bet everything on that ritual and its ability to keep my real motivation concealed for the time being.
"Sure, Bells," he said after a moment. I carefully released the breath I'd been holding. "I haven't cleaned your room or anything, so I'll make up the couch for you, just for the night, okay?"
"Sounds great, Dad – really," I said enthusiastically. At that moment, I would have slept on the floor or in my car. As long as it wasn't in Seattle. "I'm going to be on the road shortly, and I'll call you when I'm close, okay?" Charlie seemed excited to see me, despite the tangible hesitation in his voice. Or maybe I was just feeling guilty; I couldn't be sure. Before I hung up I thanked him and said I'd see him soon, and then gathered my things and headed for the door.
Three-and-a-half long hours later I pulled my Audi into the driveway. As usual, it was drizzling; the weather in Forks seemed oblivious to the fact that it was November and cold enough for snow. As I got out of the car and stretched, I saw my father's silhouette in the curtained window and I smiled in spite of myself.
Pulling my jacket collar closer to my skin, I walked toward the house with optimism and a hefty dose of nostalgia. This will be good for me. Charlie opened the door before I could even get my hand on the latch, and for a moment he stood in the doorway just looking at me. If I hadn't been accustomed to his demeanor, it might have been awkward. But that's Charlie.
"Hey, Dad," I simply said. His eyes twinkled in the porch light, his tongue darting out nervously to wet his lips under his mustache.
"Hey, Bells," he answered, reaching for my bag. As I handed it to him, he backed up so I could cross the threshold into the house. There were a few moments of loaded silence -- he was most likely sizing me up, trying to ascertain my real motivations for the visit; I was doing my damndest not to give myself away -- and then he pulled me into a hug.
"It's good to see you," he said, tightening his grip on me. I couldn't help myself; I reveled in the warmth of his hug and the familiar smells of his aftershave and our house. I was home.
"It's good to see you too, Dad. I hope I wasn't keeping you up late," I offered as we walked inside. Charlie deposited my bag by the stairs and walked to the fridge, offering me a beer. I nodded and sat at the kitchen table.
"Nah," he responded, popping the top of the Vitamin R. I hated the beer, but it was a local brew and his favorite, so I decided to suck it up this time. I popped the top of my can and took a long pull. Fucking gross.
"So are you going fishing with Billy or Harry tomorrow," I asked, grasping for light conversation. If I could just get through the beer and excuse myself to the couch, I'd be fine.
"Billy," he said, taking a swig. More silence.
"What time you going?"
"Same time as always -- six a.m. You sure you want to have breakfast before I leave? I could wake you up when I get back or something," he suggested.
"No, that's okay, Dad," I said. "I wanted us to go out for breakfast…like we use to."
Charlie drained his beer and got up to throw it in the recycling bin. I took his lead and finished mine as well, rising to throw it into the plastic bin. Suddenly I was exhausted, but refused to consider the reasons for my weariness.
"Dad, if it's okay I think I'm going to go to bed."
"Right. You must be tired," he said. "I left sheets and blankets on the couch for you. Tomorrow I'll clean the stuff out of your room for you. Sorry I didn't get to do it."
"It's fine, Dad," I said. "I'll start in on it tomorrow morning after breakfast. No big deal." Charlie stood quietly between the kitchen and living room, seeming unsure. When I was finished making up my bed, I walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek.
"Why don't you get to bed? Wake me in the morning for breakfast, okay? And thanks."
"Welcome, Bells." And he turned and went upstairs. I collapsed onto the couch, not even bothering to take off my jeans and sweatshirt. Absentmindedly I kicked off my shoes and flipped on the TV. I was asleep within minutes to the sights and sounds of Iron Chef.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee woke me bright and early the next morning, and as I stretched I took note of the darkness in the living room. The only light poured from the light over the kitchen sink and I sought it out -- along with the promise of caffeine -- like a bloodhound.
"Morning," my father chirped. He'd always been a morning person. "Sleep well?"
"Morning," I answered as I stumbled toward the coffee pot. "Yeah. Slept like a baby."
With a cup of hot coffee stimulating my senses, I took a quick shower and got dressed in jeans and a thermal, and we went to breakfast at the local diner. It was Charlie's favorite place to eat and I thought it fitting that we have breakfast there like old times. We sat at a booth and ordered minutes later. The waitress, Gina, remarked on how grown up I had become and made some comment to Charlie about doing a good job. I stared at my coffee cup. If she only knew.
"So, Bells, you gonna tell me why you're really here?"
The question startled me, but it didn't shock me in the slightest. I'd been waiting for it, in fact. There was never any doubt in my mind that he'd see through my bullshit. But shit, did he ever cut to the chase. For a few moments, I couldn't respond. Truthfully, I had no idea where to start. And to his credit, Charlie used that silence against me. It grew heavy, uncomfortable, more of a burden than the one I was carrying. So I spilled my guts.
"Well, Dad, I was dating this guy -- Edward -- and I screwed it up and he dumped me…I think." I said quickly and in one breath. It hurt less if I did it that way, I discovered. My father seemed to take it all in as he sipped his coffee. I grimaced into mine.
"Uh-huh," was all he said.
"And, um, well I kind of work with him. He works for me, I mean. We used to despise each other and then we kind of got together during a conference and then I didn't know how to act when we came back to the office. I was mean, and I think it was the last straw, and he said a lot of things. And I said some nasty things and Edward left. It was going to be weird. I just wanted to give him some space." At this point I didn't even know if I was making sense. Saying all of it out loud gave it all meaning, and suddenly I realized how careless I'd been. "I have no idea what I'm doing."
Charlie chuckled softly at that comment, but said nothing more, as Gina arrived with our breakfast. We ate silently, only the sounds of clinking silverware and chewing punctuating the space. Again, it wouldn't have been uncomfortable in the least -- Charlie didn't talk much -- if I hadn't just revealed my burden. Still, once we had finished, I expected there to be something. A few words of reprimand or admonishment. Even words of encouragement that it would work out. Isn't that what dads do? Comfort their kids, even if the outlook is bleak? Nothing.
We rode back to the house -- in his police cruiser, no less -- in silence and by that time I wanted to scream. His non-reaction spoke volumes, just as Esme's had. No comment meant only one thing -- I was going to get a lecture at some point. Well, I probably had at least one coming to me. This is like being back in high school and getting caught coming home after curfew.
"Dad, I didn't come here to cry on your shoulder and ask for pity or forgiveness," I said. "I really did come to see you, and to put some space between me, Edward and this mess."
"I know you didn't, Bella. You've never been one for needless crying," he said, a smile tugging up one corner of his mouth under his mustache. "But you can't run away from your problems by coming here."
I nodded in automatic agreement, without letting the words sink in right away. Shutting the door, I told Charlie I'd see him later and he nodded and said goodbye. As the cruiser rumbled down the road, I stood there watching it until he turned and disappeared. With the whole day ahead of me, I decided to make use of myself and clean my old room. But first, I needed to call Esme and Alice.
"Oh, Bella, hi," Esme said after picking up on the second ring. The worry in her voice was palatable. "Where are you?"
"Hi, Esme. I'm at my dad's in Forks," I said. "I'm going to stay the weekend, and maybe take a day or two next week if that's okay with you. I just need to figure out some things and keep my distance. I think it's in everyone's best interest."
"Okay. That's fine," Esme said. "Do whatever you need to. I'll hold down the fort and with me and…Edward…everything will be taken care of, so there's no need for you to stress out. Just keep in touch, okay?"
I agreed and told her she could reach me on my cell at any time and reminded her of a few client appointments that she'd either have to reschedule or give to Edward.
"Bella? Just so you know, Edward didn't quit or anything."
"I'm glad, Es," I said, not bothering to hide my relief. "I hope I'm doing the right thing. Should I call him?"
"B, I have confidence that you will do the right thing," she said. "And no, I don't think that's a good idea. Give him time…and some space. I'll let you know how things go on Monday, okay?" And like that, I knew Esme didn't want to discuss it further. I couldn't blame her; and I certainly didn't want her getting caught in the middle of this as a mediator or go-between. We said our goodbyes with the plan to talk on Monday.
Next I dialed Alice, knowing full well that the volume on my phone would need to be turned down. As usual, she didn't disappoint.
"Bella, what the fuck happened? I want to hear every detail and tell me first where the hell you are!" The shrill voice on the other end instantly made my palms sweat. Alice was definitely going to read me the riot act. I carefully told her what had transpired the day before and apologized for not calling her sooner.
"All right, so let me get this straight," she began, while I leaned against the kitchen counter for support. "You and Edward were all lovey-dovey and then this past week you played the whole 'BitchyBoss' role and when he confronted you about it you threw a text from Tanya in his face and accused him of not being honest with you? A text that he didn't even know existed? And you blamed him for practically sleeping with her, when you really don't have any information to suggest that, and he got angry? Finally, the guy -- this nice, thoughtful, caring, sweet guy who puts up with your endless shit and badgering -- gets mad at you and calls you on your bullshit and fuckery. And you find fault with him anyways, and then he walks out on you? Did I get it?"
"Um, y-yes."
"Well, okay. For a minute there I thought I was losing my fucking mind," she seethed. "For a moment I thought that my best friend, who I love dearly despite being a neurotic control freak, had decided she was going to throw away the best thing that ever happened to her over a goddamned text! Thank goodness I was wrong."
The sudden silence on the other end of the phone was deafening, given the volume of Alice's voice just seconds before. I was speechless and shocked, afraid to utter another word until I was sure the torrent of word-vomit spewing from Alice was finished.
"Bella? What do you have to say?"
"Alice, what can I say?"
"Oh you've got to do better than that, honey," she snapped. "How could you?"
Those words cut me like a knife, and my arm buckled under the weight of her accusation and plea. As my elbow hit the counter, I finally felt the tears. I had done this to Edward and me. Bella Swan – relationship saboteur. Alice was right, of course. My father was right. Esme was right. It was entirely my fault. Again.
"I…I did this, Alice," I mumbled, blinking wildly to stem the tears. "It wasn't about the text at all. Shit. He didn't even fucking know about it. And I threw it in his face and used it against him. Why did I do this?"
"I have no idea, but you had better think long and hard about it," she lectured. "Bella, you know I love you, but this has to stop. I get it, really I do. Sam, James and Paul broke your heart. All of that leaves a mark on a person. But B, you've carried this shit around with you for so long. Edward doesn't deserve this. He's not one of them, so stop treating him like he's going to hurt you. Stop apologizing for who you are and who you aren't, okay? He's never asked that of you. Honey, you need to let it go."
"You need to let it go."
Alice's last words found their mark. But it was too late.
"Alice, it's too late," I said, echoing my defeated thoughts. "I pushed and pushed, and Edward finally pushed back. How can I ask him to forgive me for all that I've put him through?" I sank into a kitchen chair and my tears fell freely, splashing onto the Formica.
"I don't know, Bella," she answered honestly. "But if he means anything to you, you need to try."
"He means everything to me," I whispered sadly.
"Then whatever you do, don't give up," Alice suggested. "Listen hon, I hate to do this but I have to go. Rose and I are meeting up for lunch."
"Oh yeah?" I couldn't disguise the disappointment in my voice at being left out. It might have been a bit childish to react that way, but I wished I could go with them.
"Yeah. Rose said she has some…um, news," Alice finished quietly, as if she regretted adding the last part. "I'm sure it's nothing. She probably wants to tell me about the latest dieting craze she's discovered. Silly woman."
"Well, please tell her that if it's more than that, I expect to get a phone call as soon as you know," I said, trying to be enthusiastic at the notion that it probably wasn't what Alice claimed. "Okay, Alice?"
"Absolutely," she said, assuring me. "And Bella? Take it easy this weekend and use the time to decompress, okay? You need a little break from it all."
"Thanks, Alice. I will, don't worry," I answered. "I love you. Thanks for putting up with me."
"I love you too, honey. That's what friends are for, right?"
Throughout the remainder of the morning and far into the afternoon I worked on restoring my old bedroom to its former "glory." I cleared old papers and magazines off the bed and desk (and every other inch of flat surface, it seemed), washed the bed linens and curtains, vacuumed and dusted. After washing the windows, the natural light shining into my room brightened it considerably. Around two o'clock I took a break to get something to drink and eat, having worked up a good sweat and appetite.
As I sat at the small kitchen table eating my PB&J, I decided to make Charlie dinner as a sort of peace offering. Maybe he'll go easier on me with a healthy serving of lasagna in his stomach. With lunch eaten and my room presentable, I took a quick shower and left the house to head to the grocery store.
I managed to get through the store without being noticed by anyone. The owner, Sue, had known Charlie and me for years, but thankfully she didn't appear to be working. Today I just didn't feel like being sociable. As I rounded the corner to the last aisle with only bread remaining on my list, a vaguely familiar dark head of hair stopped me dead in my tracks. It couldn't be. Instinctively I turned to hide in the next aisle, but before I could make it a deep voice called my name doubtfully.
"Bella?"
Shit. Not now.
Slowly I turned, and my fears were confirmed. He stood in the middle of the aisle I had tried to flee, a loaf of Italian bread in his hand, now forgotten. His face said it all; he was more than surprised to see me. I smiled and waved, hoping that would suffice, but the slow smile that lit his dark features told me it wouldn't.
"Hi…Sam."
"Bella, what the…I mean, how are you?" Sam started walking toward me, and my feet moved toward him, seemingly on their own. "I haven't seen you in ages!"
"I'm good, thanks," I answered meekly, once we were standing a few feet apart. "It's been years, I know." Part of me itched to ask him what was new in his life. The rest of me was afraid to hear his answer. Why? It's been more than ten years.
"So, what brings you back to our neck of the woods?" Of course, his question was very innocent, but my brain scampered to come up with a dazzling answer. No luck.
"Thought I'd take a little break from work and visit Charlie," I replied. "Brief change of scenery, you know?"
"Workin' for the man getting you down, eh," Sam asked with a glint in his eye. "I know what you mean…"
"No. I actually own a PR and marketing firm with my partner, Esme," I blurted out, interrupting him. It was like I had something to prove. I wasn't working for "the man," after all. "Business has been so steady. I just needed to catch my breath."
After the look of slight shock faded away, Sam asked me about my work. We stood in the aisle talking for a good ten minutes. It was surprising how quickly we fell into comfortable conversation. It was almost normal. I started to ask Sam about him and what he did for a living, when two similarly-dark-haired children came screeching around the corner, smacking into Sam's legs.
"I won! I won!" exclaimed the girl, taller than the little boy who I assumed was her brother. "Daddy, tell Em I won!"
"Nuh-uh. Leah, you cheated," huffed the little boy, breathless from his race. "No tripping allowed." Sam laughed quietly and looked up at me with an apologetic grin. The two children, at having received no call from their referee, finally cast their eyes on me.
"Please excuse these two. It's difficult to keep them under control with aisles of race track in here," Sam said with a chuckle, mussing the boy's hair. "Embry and Leah, please say hello to Bella Swan. She and I went to high school together. Bella, these are my kids."
The trademark dark eyes and hair gave them away far before introductions, of course, but seeing his children staring at me with interest, and knowing there at least had been a wife or mother caused my heart to constrict. But just the smallest bit.
"Embry and Leah, it's so nice to meet you both," I said, recovering quickly and putting on a smile. "Your dad and I go way back. And, just for the record, I don't think tripping is allowed in grocery store races."
Sam's booming laugh surrounded us, and my "call" launched another round of complaints from Leah and triumphant cries from Embry.
"But maybe your mom should make the final ruling," I suggested, shamelessly trying to sniff out information. Sam looked down at the two kids wrapped around his legs and nodded.
"True. You guys know Mom will want to hear all about this," he said sarcastically. Leah and Embry groaned and simultaneously started pleading him not to tell. Internally, I wondered if it mattered to me who he'd married. Given the children's bronzed skin and dark features, I guessed his wife had the same striking traits.
"Emily's at home," Sam said, as if he were reading my mind. "She's kind of, um, too big to go food shopping, so I'm doing it for her." Leah looked at me and motioned with her hands -- with cheeks puffed out for effect -- that her mother had a very large belly.
"Wow, Sam, that's great," I remarked -- honestly. "When's she due?"
"In a week or so, actually," he said. "At this point she's so uncomfortable that I just do anything I can to stay out of her way." He winked at me and put his arms around his children. "And we've been gone a while, haven't we, kids? Mom's going to wonder where her ice cream is!"
"I want the strawberry kind only," Leah declared.
"Well, I want chocolate," Embry countered.
"Okay, guys. There's enough for everyone to have a different kind," Sam said. He smiled at me and picked up his shopping basket. "Bella, it was so great seeing you again. Really. Please don't be a stranger to these parts, okay?"
"It was great seeing you too, Sam," I said. "And it was great meeting you, Leah and Embry. Congratulations! And I'll try to visit as often as I can. I know Charlie would love that."
We said our good-byes and Sam wrangled his brood toward the checkout line. I smiled as I resumed my search for a good Italian loaf, thinking about how fortuitous it had been to run into Sam. Of all people to bump into while in Forks. By the time I got to the register, the three were long gone, and I quickly made it back home to start cooking. Only once I'd finished the lasagna and was working on the salad did it occur to me that seeing Sam hadn't hurt at all. In fact, it had felt good. And I was genuinely happy for him.
Charlie came home with a small cooler full of fish, which I told him I'd bake and freeze for future meals. Thankfully he and Billy had done all the nasty gutting and filleting. He seemed thrilled with the lasagna, and for a while we ate in companionable silence. If I could just get through dinner and escape to my room, I'd be home-free.
"So what did you do today?" Charlie's question was loud in the comparably quiet space.
"Um, I cleaned my room and then I went to the market to get dinner. Nothing too exciting," I answered. "And I ran into Sam Uley."
"Oh yeah? Where?"
"At the grocery store," I said. "His was with his kids, Leah and Embry." Charlie just looked at me like he was waiting for me to continue. "They're cute. Sam looks happy. It was…good to see him."
Charlie nodded, his mouth full. We finished the rest of our meal in silence, and I offered to clear the table and wash the dishes. I ushered Charlie to his favorite chair and even got him a beer. You might be buttering your bread a little too much, B.
"Okay, I give up. What's all this for?" Charlie asked when I handed him his Vitamin R. "Not that I don't appreciate it…"
"Just wanted to thank you, Dad, for putting me up…and for putting up with me," I said truthfully. I didn't feel like another lecture today, but I wanted Charlie to know that I was grateful for the open door policy and the few words of advice he had spoken.
"You don't need to thank me," he said, taking a swig of his shitty beer. "Why don't we do something together tomorrow? I thought I'd take a little time in the afternoon. It's not every day that my only daughter comes to visit."
"Sure. That sounds nice," I said, racking my brain for something to do besides fishing. "What do you want to do? Hike? Bowl? Go fishing?" I snickered with my last suggestion, knowing full well that it might be a likely choice.
"You decide, honey," Charlie said. "We could even go, um, shopping if you want. Whatever."
"Dad, no offense, but I'm not going shopping in Forks or even Port Angeles unless it's for books or groceries," I admitted. The thought of looking for anything other than that made me cringe. "Why don't we go for a short hike or something, maybe down at La Push, and then if we feel up to it we can check out the bookstore?"
Charlie and I agreed, and retreated to the kitchen to do dishes. When I was finished, I brought him another beer, kissed him goodnight and excused myself. The day had exhausted me. Once in my room, its familiarity enveloped me like a warm blanket, and I flopped down on my old bed.
Staring at the ceiling, I considered the events of the day: my father's comments that morning; Alice's rant over the phone; and running into Sam. Though I couldn't process it entirely and make it fit neatly into my psyche, strangely enough, I could feel the cumulative effects.
Alice and Charlie love me and are trying to help. And running into Sam…means something. What I felt -- it means something. Before I had too much time to fret over what I wasn't grasping, however, my cell phone buzzed from my purse.
Hey B. Heard you went home 2 visit Charlie. U ok?
Rose's text stared back at me, and I could almost see her worried expression as she typed it. I felt a pang of guilt for not having spoken to her in a few days, and immediately texted her in reply.
Hey! I will b ok. Thx. How r u?
A minute, then two, then five passed as I waited for Rosalie to reply.
I'm great! Going 2 call u now…
Within seconds my phone was ringing in my hand.
"Hi, Rose! What's going on?"
"B, I didn't want to bother you, with all you have going on right now, but I had strict instructions…" Rosalie let her words dangle in front of me, teasing me, and I gasped at the realization of an announcement that was clearly being offered.
"Oh my God, Rose, who cares what I have going on? What? Tell me!"
"Emmett asked me to marry him, B," she screeched, and I quickly joined her. "Isn't it a shock? I never thought he would, stubborn ox. He popped the question last night at the hockey game! It was perfect. They had it on the big screen over the ice."
After the two of us squealed some more, I calmed down long enough to congratulate her. The two of them were made for each other, as cheesy as it sounded, and I couldn't have been happier.
"Rose, that's great. Congratulations," I said. "It's about damn time!"
For a few minutes, she and I talked about the idea of planning a wedding and how they planned to tell their respective parents. Rosalie's excitement was palatable, and it was so invigorating to see her thrilled with the prospect of a life together with Emmett. Rose was never one for big shows, fancy things or making a fuss. This was going to be fun.
"So, Rose…Vegas?" I couldn't help but tease a little. Rosalie had told me and Alice that when she grew up she wanted to marry a cute boy in Vegas, complete with Elvis as the minister and the celebratory gambling.
"Ha, ha, Bella, real funny," she said sarcastically. "No Vegas for this girl. Something small, for sure, but nothing with slot machines."
"I can't wait to help you plan this, Rose," I said. "I'll be back Monday or Tuesday. Want to have lunch? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."
"Yes. That sounds good. Just give me a call when you get back into town, okay," she said. "Bella, are you seriously all right? Alice told me what happened. Now, I take everything that nymph says with a grain of salt, but either way it sounds…shitty."
"Yeah, I'm fine," I said with a sigh, falling back on the bed. "I know it sounds like I should win the award for worst girlfriend ever, but I want to fix it. No idea how yet, but I figured this is good, quality inner-reflection time. And don't worry; I'll have gotten my fair share of lectures by the time I leave, so you won't have to."
"Never said I would," Rose answered. "Listen, I'm not going to say anything. The way I see it, you're a big girl and you'll fix whatever needs fixing. End of discussion."
Leave it to Rosalie to keep things simple. And to tell me how simple they are.
"Thanks, Rose," I said. "Enough about me. Congratulations on being engaged! And I'll give you a call when I get back. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, and thanks so much for calling. I love you."
"Thanks. Don't mention it, B. Love you too."
Sleep suddenly sounded like the best idea I'd had all day, so I got changed and brushed my teeth and then buried myself under the covers. Tomorrow should be interesting. Just before I fell asleep, Edward's tortured expression flitted across my mind's eye. It was the first time I'd thought about him since Friday afternoon.
"Bella! You awake?" Charlie's voice floated up the stairs and through my closed bedroom door. Groaning, I rolled over to check the clock. Seven-thirty. Why was he waking me up?
"I am now," I yelled back from bed. "What?"
"I'm heading out. Just wanted to let you know I'll be back at one and then we can head out. If you want to pack sandwiches or something, that would be fine," he said. Hint, hint. "All right, see you later."
With the house quiet once again, I drifted off. A few hours later, I awoke to a vision of Edward, always just out of my grasp and me powerless to reach him. It was like the last dream I'd had about him, except this time it instantly brought me to tears. Fuck. In my revised nightmare, he'd again been added to the usual cast of characters. But Edward didn't belong with the others. I had broken his heart.
Forcing myself out of bed, I fumbled in the bag searching for my leggings and running shirt. I hadn't worshipped the asphalt gods in a while and it was long-overdue. Throwing a lightweight shell over my shirt to combat the mist that was now falling, I put my earbuds in and broke into a full sprint. For almost two miles, the sounds of Muse, 30 Seconds to Mars, Linkin Park, OK Go and Evanescence pushed me to the point of exhaustion, but I embraced it. My workout mix was also full of oldies but goodies, and I smiled reflexively when my favorite song came on.
Just a small town girl
Living in a lonely world
She took the midnight train going anywhere
Just a city boy
Born and raised in South Detroit
He took the midnight train going anywhere
The slower tempo of the song regulated my pace, and soon I felt the harsh burn in my lungs subside to a dull, comforting tingle. I ran on the edge of the winding roads, delighting in the refreshing wetness of the drizzle and the smell of wet, dead leaves. The pounding of my feet on the pavement steadied me and helped to clear the morning grogginess from my mind.
Some will win, some will lose
Some were born to sing the blues
Oh the movie never ends
It goes on and on and on and on
I slowed a little more as I neared the house again, in an attempt to calm my heart and cool down. The rain was falling more steadily when I reached the front door, and the combination of cold sweat and water gave me a chill as I stepped inside and toed off my running shoes. A quick check of the time showed I had more than an hour-and-a-half before Charlie was due home, so I took a quick shower and dressed, and then packaged up leftover lasagna for Charlie's lunch and a tuna sandwich for my own.
Charlie was home at one on the dot. Of course. I threw our lunches in a backpack and laced up my wet sneakers, and we set off for La Push. There was a parking lot at the trailhead, which made things easy. Soon we were swallowed by the green of the forest canopy, and the darkness of the woods was only illuminated, it seemed, by the neon orange of Charlie's vest. He hiked with his rifle as well, just in case we met with an angry bear or cougar.
I followed closely behind him, an orange flag hanging from my backpack, clad in a matching orange vest and orange hat. It looked ridiculous, I was sure, but fashion was a small price to pay in Washington State, in the woods, during hunting season.
We hiked for about an hour, and then my stomach started growling. As if he could hear it from behind him, Charlie slowed and turned to me, suggesting we take a lunch break at the clearing ahead. Once we reached it -- a beautiful meadow amid a sea of evergreens with lush grass, wildflowers and a rock perfect for resting -- I pulled out our lunches.
"Bella, I hope you know that you have a lot to offer," Charlie began, after his first bite of lasagna. I looked up from my sandwich and couldn't deny it: he looked uncomfortable. "I mean, honey, you're smart, successful, thoughtful, loyal…you're a good person. And you need to let yourself be what you were meant to be."
"Dad…" I began, uncertain of where he was going with this existential ramble.
"Bells, just hear me out, okay?" I nodded.
"Stop making apologies for who you are, and stop expecting people to hurt you or be threatened by you, because then they will," he continued. "You need to be happy with who you are, Bella, before you can ever give love to someone else or expect it in return.
"Look, I might not have been that successful with the whole marriage thing, but I know that relationships take hard work -- from both sides," Charlie said. "But if this guy, Edward, is worth the work, then you have to try harder. You owe it to yourself and to him."
"Thanks, Dad," I said. Charlie might not have been verbose, but when he opened his mouth, he made it count. "I appreciate it. I know I need to reconcile some things. I've always had guilt, I guess, for putting my career above everything else."
"Yes, but that was your choice, Bella," he reminded me. "You can't do any good by doubting that choice now." Charlie paused and raked his fingers through his mustache. "I always regretted you being torn between your mother and me. There was no 'happy home' to grow up in. There weren't memories of Mom and Dad together, in love. I blame myself for that."
"Dad, don't do that," I said. "We're all slaves to our own convictions."
"But I realize you never had a good model of what a healthy, happy relationship looked like," he argued. "And that has played some role in this, I'm sure. For me, just having you with me was all I needed, Bells. But you needed a family, and I couldn't provide it. I'm sorry."
Charlie looked a bit crestfallen, as his own attempt at reassurance pulled him into his own pit of lingering self-doubt and guilt. Despite his perceived shortcomings as a father and provider, Charlie had always been an excellent parent; none of my problems were his doing.
"Please, Dad, don't berate yourself," I pleaded. "Listen to your own advice, and let's both focus on the future, okay? You did a great job, with limited resources, and I think I turned out okay. You said so, remember? And you're right about Edward. He is worth it, and I do need to try harder." Most likely, that had been part of the problem: Edward was the only one working on this relationship seriously.
I reached over and gave Charlie a hug. For a few moments, I simply enjoyed the strength and comfort of his embrace. Then, without another word, we packed up and set off again, leaving the meadow behind us.
A/N: Don't forget to visit the HtS thread on Twilighted to submit your ideas for the o/s!! .?f=44&t=9356
The Journey song (no copyright infringement intended) was a shout-out for Jennay. I told her I'd work in her favorite song. Next chapter, Bella will return to the land of the living. It should be interesting.
Please leave comments/reviews! I love them like long-overdue lectures!