CHAPTER FIVE: THE HOUSE
The Town
Before
I am a married man. I have a shit job and a shit car and the prettiest wife. She still blushes when I call her my wife, even though that's what she is. She's a wife and she's mine.
Our apartment is within walking distance of downtown. It's small, even for two people, but it's all we can afford right now. I cringe every time we pay the rent. It's the only apartment building around.
The rest of the street is built up with houses from the twenties, thirties and forties. Most of them have been remodeled and polished clean. What were once summer cottages for people who lived in the city, are now overpriced family homes in one of the most desirable neighborhoods around. If it wasn't for Bella's job, we'd move somewhere cheaper. Somewhere we could afford to buy a house.
The bedroom in our apartment shares a wall with the neighboring apartment. An elderly couple lives there, and Bella swears that they can hear us having sex. The man and his wife always stare me down like I'm a thief. I don't give a fuck what they can hear.
On Sundays, we walk to breakfast at the little diner on the edge of downtown that only accepts cash. I get an omelette, Bella orders the Benedict and we devour every last crumb. Every Sunday.
With our full bellies, the walk home takes twice as long. I tuck her into my side as we walk even though the summer sun is too hot for us to be skin to skin.
I never knew being married could be like this. Like walking home on a Sunday in the sunshine and not wanting anything else.
She leans into me, and other than getting her naked, I think this is my favorite thing. The fact that we can just walk and be silent together.
Almost everything here is brown in the summer. Dry and dead and brown. In some ways, it's just like the country except for the pace and the noise and the restaurants with food worth eating.
We turn up our street that doesn't have sidewalks. With my hand dangling over her shoulder, Bella plays with my fingers as we walk. And if she would let me get her naked right now, I would. Right here in the street.
She stops to pick a bright orange poppy. The flowers grow wild here, on every surface, rampant even in the summer when most everything has dried up.
She twirls it in her fingers, around and around, until I have to take it from her and tuck it behind her ear.
Her hands slip into my back pockets as she reaches up on her tiptoes, and it's moments like these, with a flower tucked behind her ear, that it doesn't seem possible that she's all mine.
"We should drive out to the beach today," she says into my lips.
I don't like sand or saltwater or strangers ogling my wife. "It's already almost noon. By the time we pack up and get out there the day will be gone." I kiss along the softest skin of her neck. She smells like Sunday. "Let's just go home."
She laughs against my chest and I can't believe she married me.
She doesn't bring up the beach again. She knows I'll go if she pushes the subject.
We walk along the crunchy gravel. She pokes me in the ribs; I grab her around the waist. She asks me about my favorite day, I tell her about this one birthday I had when the prettiest girl kissed me and then ran off over the fence.
"Now you're mine forever, and I can kiss you anytime I want."
She spins out of my arms, daring me with her eyes to chase her. Walking backwards with a wicked grin, she knows I will.
She nearly trips over an Open House sign. Her eyes follow the arrow down the long driveway and I can see it in her posture before she even speaks. The house is set back from the street and barely visible from where we're standing. She wants to go inside and so we will. Because when it comes to Bella, I don't have a fucking backbone.
She leads me down the driveway. It's lined on either side with overgrown ivy. I can only imagine the rodents that must live in there.
A trellis, grayed by time and age and covered in thick, twisting brown vines serves as the front entryway. I'm not sure if the vines are dead or alive. The house itself is brown and dull as the summer. The paint is thick and peeling away in several spots. There are visible cracks along the side of the house leading to the front door.
But Bella doesn't see any of that. She only sees the For Sale sign and possibilities. It's what I love about her. That fire in her eyes when she wants something.
"The soil shouldn't be flush up against the siding like that," I can't help but think aloud. "This place is probably crawling with termites."
She ignores me, pulling me by the hand. We're through the front door before I have another second to be critical.
The real estate agent is nowhere to be found. The place is completely empty. It smells like moldy air freshener. The walls have all been freshly painted, bone white.
We walk from room to room and I can practically feel the excitement radiating off of Bella's skin every time she touches me.
The kitchen is almost entirely original, yellow tile with black trim, the color rubbed completely off in some places. Bella stands at the huge farm style sink peering out the window overlooking the front walk. It's nothing to look at, but she's smiling like it's everything she's ever wanted.
The carpet throughout the downstairs is beat to hell. And it smells like old people. Bella disappears up the stairs as I examine the peeling wallpaper in the dining room. I wonder who died here.
A blonde with an obvious boob job walks in from the door to the backyard. "Let me know if you have any questions. Feel free to look around. It's priced to sell," she says with the craziest grin. She should practice in the mirror. She looks like a fool.
Bella appears at my side and addresses the agent eagerly, "Have you had much interest?"
"Not a lot of foot traffic today, but I'm sure it will sell quickly. Everything in this neighborhood does." But even she recognizes the lie. It's right there in her eyes. Everything in this neighborhood is picture perfect, magazine model home. Those are the kinds of houses that people in this area buy. People who live here don't want to fix up a junker.
"Come see the upstairs," Bella grins at me. But maybe I don't want to see the upstairs. She pulls at my fingertips, her earnest eyes searching mine. Her face falls ever so slightly and it's like my heart is about to fail in my chest with the realization that I did that.
"Show me."
She is beaming as she pulls me by the hand. The stairs creak and the banister is wobbly. This house is a money pit.
She's practically giddy as she leads me to a bedroom to the left of the stairs. The floors are old hardwood instead of filthy carpet like the rest of this place.
The patchy light shines in through the old oak in the driveway. I can see why she loves it.
"Isn't it romantic?" She is practically begging me to agree. I try to see what she sees but I'm not sure if I could ever see the world through her eyes.
She holds her hands under her chin like she used to do when we were young and stupid. "You have to see the bathroom," she laughs, leading the way to the little bathroom off the corner of the room.
I look around the small space wondering what makes it so special. The cabinets are all painted a pale yellow and the paint is so thick it almost looks squishy.
The tub is old and not particularly clean. It looks original. The floor is covered in small white tiles with the filthiest grout I have ever seen.
Bella stands in front of the toilet staring expectantly at a cabinet on the wall.
"What?"
"Open it!" she squeals. And this is normally what I love about her. Except I feel like I'm about to disappoint her. Like I'm about to show her that I can't give her everything she's ever wanted. We can't afford a house. Not even this house.
I stare at the little cabinet wondering what could possibly be behind it that has her so excited.
I pull the door open too quickly and something comes falling out. I jump and she laughs, until we're both laughing. It's an ironing board. A small ironing board that fits in the wall and I want to give this to her. I want to give her a house with an old ironing board that hides in a cabinet.
I'm so caught off guard by these moments where I can feel myself loving her more than I did the day before. Loving her so much that I don't want to ever deny her anything.
I tangle our fingers together. She reaches for me, pulling my face to hers, whispering her hopes and dreams against my lips. "Can't you see us growing old here?"
"In this bathroom?"
She smiles against my face. "No. Not in this bathroom." She leads me back into the room, the sun catching in her hair as she presses me against the far wall, her lips along my jaw.
"Right here," she whispers.
Eyes closed, I try to see it. Growing old.
She pulls away, her lips leaving my face, but before I can protest, she's wrapped around me again in the middle of the room.
"And right here," she says against my mouth. I let my hands wander and roam as her smiling kisses press and beg me for things I want to give her.
I wonder if I'll ever stop needing her; ever stop wanting to strip her naked in inappropriate places.
"This is where our bed would go," she goads me. And the words are my undoing. That's all it takes for me to be pressing her to the floor in the very spot our bed would be, my lips devouring hers, my hips holding her down.
She doesn't protest, kissing me back like I am to her what she is to me.
"Let's go home," I beg her.
"Imagine what you could do to me right now if this was our home."
I groan into her neck. "You're not playing fair."
"I know. Is it working?"
"Maybe," I tell her honestly, blinking at her begging eyes.
"I can't wait for our first night in this bedroom, Edward."
"You're killing me."
"Say yes."
"Let me get you naked."
"Say yes and I'll let you do anything you want."
"So that's it? Love at first sight?" I ask her. Because I need to understand.
"I fall fast and hard, Edward. You should know this about me."
"I'm pretty sure that was me, Bella. You, on the other hand, needed some convincing."
"That's not how I remember it," she smiles, shaking her head.
"No?" I sweep the hair out of her eyes.
"No. I remember a boy with a cigarette and a smile. I wanted to keep him forever."
"Well, you have him. Minus the cigarette."
"Thankfully," she says, giving me one last peck on the lips.
"Come on, let's go."
"Go where?"
"Let's go see about finding our own realtor."
She smiles her Bella smile. I help her to her feet, glancing around the room that she wants to be ours.
She pauses at the top of the stairs, peering into the smaller room. "It's tiny but a perfect baby's room, don't you think?"
My entire body goes rigid. "You said you didn't want kids." It's practically a whisper.
She looks at me like I'm crazy. "Well not in high school, I didn't!"
I watch her walk down the stairs, sudden dread spreading in my stomach. She pauses half way down when she realizes I'm not behind her. "You coming?" she smiles, oblivious to the thoughts running through my mind.
I force my feet to move. To follow her. I watch her in silence as she asks a few last questions of the realtor with the big tits. I pretend like the past two minutes didn't happen. I don't want to be a father. Ever.
I take Bella's hand, needing the feeling of her skin on mine. She leads me down the front walk. She is so brightly lit right now. I don't want to do or say anything to take it away.
Stopping in the middle of the driveway, she looks up at the bluest sky. I keep walking until our arms are stretched out as far as they can reach.
She looks at me like she loves me and the gnawing feeling in my gut slowly fades.
"Dance with me?" she asks. As if I could say no.
My feet don't move as I hold my arm up high. She does that thing where she twirls around and the whole world spins with her.
-HL-
A/N:
Susan, thank you just never seems to cover it.
Kim, I love how you love this Edward.
CC and Peri, your endless support means more than you know.
I plan on updating weekly from this point on. See you next Monday and thanks for reading :)