CHAPTER SIX: BLOOD
The Town
After
I am her friend. I am still a liar. We have never been friends.
With creaky stairs, peeling wallpaper and a bedroom across the hall that will never be what she wished for, this empty house echoes and haunts with the life we once shared.
She lives here again. In this town. I don't know where, exactly, because she hasn't told me. I haven't asked because I'm afraid she'll refuse to say. So I pretend like it doesn't matter.
Every time I leave this house, I wonder if I'll run into her at the gas station, or the grocery store, or the ATM. I never do. She might as well live a million miles away.
The world is too quiet except for the days she calls and I can listen to her voice. Everything is different on those days.
We've spoken on the phone eleven times since the night she showed up out of nowhere and drove me home. Eleven is so many, and yet not nearly enough. I thought I had ruined everything after what happened the day my father died. But I guess I can't destroy something that has already shattered to pieces.
We are doing this on her terms, whatever this is. When I asked if I could call her, she said no. When I asked if I could see her, she said no. So I wait for her weekly call.
She usually calls on Saturdays. Sometimes our conversations are easy. Most of the time, I don't know what to say to her that hasn't already been said.
I lie awake in the early hours of the morning when everything is gray. I imagine her here in our house, the version of it where everything is fixed and beautiful and just how she wanted it. I imagine her naked skin and her tangled hair and the way she used to look at me right before she came undone.
I run my hand over the empty space next to me and try to hold on to our past. I can't let go. Not even to spare my own sanity.
I spend the morning in the dining room, fighting with layers of wallpaper.
It's Saturday. But it's almost noon and I haven't heard from Bella. Alice's shift starts soon and I told her I'd be there. She's not the one I'm afraid to disappoint.
I've been stripping the wallpaper in the dining room for two days. The stuff doesn't want to leave. I wish I could remember what color Bella had wanted to paint the walls.
I'm already running late when the house phone rings in the kitchen. And even though I don't know who is calling, I know and it's my favorite sound.
"Hello?" I practically shout into the receiver, entirely pathetic and out of breath.
She laughs. I have a new favorite sound. I want to ask her what is so funny, but my lips are nothing but the biggest, stupid smile. Laugh forever. Please.
"Hi."
"Hi."
I swear we say it one hundred times.
"So what are you up to?" She sounds as breathless as I feel.
I want to tell her, but it feels strange. Because it's what she wanted and what I never gave her when we were married.
Honesty is complicated and unfair.
"Just doing some work around the house." Partial truths are partial lies. "I'm taking down the wallpaper in the dining room." I hold my breath.
"Oh." It's all she says. She gives me nothing else. So I keep talking.
"I thought it would come down easily since it was already peeling, but I swear they must have used super glue or something." I'm starting to ramble.
There is an awkward silence and I want to fill it. With anything. Before she starts asking me things I don't know how to answer.
"Why are you taking down the wallpaper?" I'm too late. There is no longer any hint of laughter in her voice. She sounds almost hurt.
Because I'm an asshole.
"Do you remember what you told me that first day you drove me home when we were kids?" That's what we were. Kids.
"I don't know if I can do this with you, Edward."
"What are we doing?" Because I honestly don't know.
"Reminiscing."
I don't know what to talk about. I don't know what's allowed. We are both too quiet.
"What do you want, Bella?" I hold the phone in a tight fist, anticipating her response.
Say everything.
She answers a different question. "I told you that I loved old houses because I always wanted to peel the wallpaper back to see what was underneath." I imagine her smiling when she says it. I can hear it and feel and see it. I swear I can fucking see it.
My heart sputters, remembering a different time, a different us. A time when the prospect of us was a long shot.
"Are you going to tell me what's underneath?" she asks, her curiosity getting the best of her. And maybe she's still the Bella I married. Maybe I didn't ruin her.
"More wallpaper," I tell her, the smile evident in my voice.
She laughs and I wish I could see her face. I wish I could show her. I bet her eyes would shine.
I glance up at the yellow kitchen clock and I'm late. "Bella, I hate to do this, but I really have to go."
"Oh, okay. Yeah, me too." She is back to sounding different than I remember her. "Goodbye, Edward."
I don't want to say it back. I don't want to.
"Are you still there?" she asks, her voice blanketed in insecurity.
"Yeah, sorry. I'll talk to you soon?"
Now she is the one who is quiet. She doesn't want to promise me anything. I know her. I did once.
"Have a good day, Edward."
"Yeah. Yeah, you too."
I wait for her to hang up. When I hear the click, I pray that it won't be the last time.
I keep replaying our conversation in my head as I walk as fast as I possibly can to the coffee shop. I let myself smile. I probably look like a fool but I don't care. It feels good to smile.
Wren is waiting for me when I get there. She has a stupid smile of her own and a filthy face.
"You're late," she scolds me, trying to pout but failing miserably as she passes me a bag of blueberry scones. Her eyes give her away. Her voice makes me laugh. She sounds like a smoker. A five-year-old smoker.
"I'm sorry. I had a very important phone call. You ready?"
She jumps off her stool and takes my hand. "Where are we going today?"
"Where do you want to go?"
"The zoo!"
We both laugh. "Where do you want to go besides the zoo?"
"The park?"
"Deal."
Alice barely acknowledges me, giving me a wave from behind the till. Wren doesn't look back.
It bothers me that Wren is so trusting. It's also comforting. I feel like she sees me in a way that nobody ever has and she doesn't hate me. Not even close.
She tugs on my arm. Apparently, I'm not walking fast enough. "I didn't even tell you which park."
"I know which one!" she shouts, laughing as she runs ahead of me. Her world is so simple. She is oblivious to the dysfunction that surrounds her.
"What if I wanted to take you to a different park?" I tease.
She stops, turning around. With her hands on her hips, she studies my face. "You don't have a car."
She is too smart. And too honest.
I lean down until we are nose to nose. "You got me."
She places her little hands on either side of my face, like she did the first time she saw me. Something inside of me pinches and aches. And I don't think it's simply because of the circumstances she was born into.
She presses her lips together into a satisfied smirk. I want to ask her what the hell is all over her face. "What did you have for breakfast?"
She points to the bag of scones, confused. "I didn't have breakfast yet."
Does her mother ever bathe her? I attempt to wipe out the pink smudges with my thumb as she squirms away from me.
"Edward?"
My entire body goes rigid at the sound of her voice. I don't turn around. I can't. I wanted this. I wanted to see her. But I'm not prepared. I feel like a corpse.
A pair of little hands hold on to me. "Who are you?" Wren scowls at Bella as she peers around my legs.
"Edward?" she asks again, her voice laced with something I can't identify.
And when I turn to face her she is staring with the widest eyes. She is offensively beautiful. More beautiful than I remembered.
"Bella, this is Wren," I explain without explaining.
She looks back and forth between the two of us, all of the color drained from her cheeks.
And I can see it. Her feet running over an open field of star thistle. Her legs climbing over a white fence. Her hair whipping in the wind.
Her tear stained cheeks. Her pounding fists. Her hand on the front door.
"Bella..."
"I have to go," she barely whispers, her eyes settling on Wren. I know what she's thinking. I think I know. I am unforgivable. What I did is too much for one person to forgive.
She leaves us there, in front of the dry cleaner. She disappears around the corner and it takes everything I have not to run after her. To grab hold of her and force her to speak.
We stand there in silence, Wren and I. She has seen enough in her young life to know when to be quiet. That's not fair to her.
So I take her to the park. I said I would. I will not be a liar today. I give her a nice Saturday. I spend the afternoon in the sun with a little girl who wants nothing more than a father who adores her. She deserves so much and is happy with so little.
The week passes slowly. On Tuesday, I spend no fewer than two hours at the hardware store trying to pick out a paint color for the dining room. I never paid enough attention to what Bella wanted. I can't ask her now. It's too late. She would laugh at me. She'd ask if I was crazy. I'd tell her the truth, that I am. That I've lost my mind several times over. That I am trying to fix the house she will never again live in.
I see Wren again on Thursday. We get ice cream at the old-fashioned soda shop and she ends up with it all over everything. Like she's never had ice cream before.
She asks about Bella. And so I tell her. I do not lie. I tell her as much as I think is appropriate for a five-year-old. I'm operating blind. Sometimes when I'm talking to her, I forget that she's a child. That she has only existed for five years. The earth has only traveled around the sun five times since the day she was born.
It's only when she says something entirely too honest that I remember her age. She tells me I am ugly when I frown. She tells me that I need a haircut or a hairbrush. She is one to talk. She tells me I look better when I don't shave, that I have wrinkles by my eyes when I smile and that I drink too much coffee.
Wren and I walk through the trees on the way back to Alice's work, and I watch her chase the crows among the shadows. I watch her and think about Bella.
The crows flock to an old oak, screaming at each other as a five-year-old menace tries to scale the trunk. I give her a lift onto one of the lower branches. She scrapes her knee against the crocodile bark but doesn't cry. She's tough.
I keep both feet on the ground. I feel like a grown-up.
Standing at the foot of the tree, it's the first time that I feel like I might be okay. Because even though Bella doesn't love me or trust me or want me, there is still air to breathe and blood to bleed. Crows to chase and trees to climb.
There are still people who deserve. The world keeps spinning. I don't know if I can keep looking back. I am tired of not being enough.
And when Wren asks to be carried as I help her down from the old oak, I only pause for a moment. She falls asleep with her ice cream face on my shoulder and her scrawny arms and legs dangling. Pink cheeks and wild hair.
Alice is waiting for us out front of the coffee shop when we get back, arms folded, apron thrown over her shoulder. She doesn't complain that we're late. She doesn't say anything.
She puts a lot of trust in a man she hardly knows. Desperation has a way of clouding one's judgment.
I follow her wordlessly to her car and get Wren situated in the back seat. She clings to my shirt as I try to figure out the seat belt.
"I have the late shift tomorrow," Alice says over my shoulder.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Wren. Time to go home."
She blinks at me. "Promise?"
"I Promise." I promise her more than I have ever promised anyone.
"Cross your heart and hope to die?" she asks as her eyes flutter closed.
Yeah, kid, cross my heart.
-HL-
A/N:
HUGE thanks to Time Lights for the gorgeous banner she made for Honest Liar. I'm in awe of her talent and I'm in LOVE with the banner. Like crazy in love. You can check it out at imagebam (dot com) (slash) image (slash) 8edc3d201690737
Susan and Kim made everything in this chapter better, as usual. They are too good to me.
I stole offensively beautiful from CC.
Honest Liar is up for fic of the week over at The Lemonade Stand along with a couple of my favs. Go vote for your top five at tehlemonadestand. net
I'd love to hear your thoughts on Wren. See you next Monday :)