Chapter 11

"Stop pacing."

Edward paused, shot her a grin, and continued his pacing around her kitchen.

With a sigh, Bella finished placing the fruit on a platter. She glanced at the island full of food.

She'd gone overboard, for sure.

Eggs, ham, bacon, sausage, hash browns, biscuits, and fruit.

It was a lot of food for four people, but she was nervous, and when Bella was nervous, she cooked.

A lot.

She hid her anxiety well. Edward had commented throughout the morning about how calm she seemed, and she'd just smiled and continued her work while he wore a hole in her floor with his constant pacing. She just couldn't believe his parents were as cruel as he described, and she was determined to give them the benefit of the doubt. She would be kind. She would be hospitable. She would make them feel as welcomed as possible.

This was her mantra, but her heart still leapt into her throat when the doorbell rang.

Bella wiped her hands on a towel and headed to the door.

"No," Edward said. "I'll go."

"I'll go with you."

He smiled. "Okay."

With their hands joined, the two of them made their way to the front door. Edward took a deep breath and turned the knob.

Bella wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but the two people standing on her porch weren't the Carlisle and Esme Cullen she'd imagined. Edward's father was dressed in a suit and tie, and his mom's hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was dressed casually in a pair of black leather boots and dark jeans. They were both smiling.

Smiling, that is, until they noticed Edward and Bella's joined hands.

"I told you a girl was involved," Esme muttered.

A heavy silence lingered.

As the girl in question—and since Edward was suddenly mute—Bella cleared her throat and welcomed them to Swan Lake.

"Come in," she said, waving them inside and leading them toward the dining room. "I hope you're hungry. We've made a big breakfast."

"We've?" Carlisle asked, smiling softly as he helped his wife out of her coat. "As in the two of you cooked?"

"Edward doesn't cook," Esme said, gazing at her son. "Good morning, Edward. You look . . . nervous. Aren't you going to at least introduce us?"

Edward sighed deeply and made the introductions before the four of them settled down at the table.

"The inn is beautiful, Bella," Carlisle commented. "When was it built?"

Bella told him all about the inn and its history while Edward and Esme stared daggers at each other.

"Mrs. Cullen, would you like—"

"Esme," the woman said, smiling politely. "Please call me Esme."

Bella smiled in return and passed her the platter. "Esme, would you like some fruit? Edward tells me you really love melon."

Esme cast a doubtful look toward her son. "I'm surprised Edward remembers what I like. It's been ages since he's shared a meal with us."

She thanked Bella for the fruit and placed some on her plate. Bella chanced a glance at Edward and noticed the hard line of his jaw. Proud of him for holding his tongue, she reached for his hand beneath the table and gave it a squeeze.

Breakfast was tense, to say the least.

Edward remained quiet, interjecting comments here and there when forced. He explained how he stumbled upon the inn, and she heard Esme's forced laugh when he told them about missing the exit to Port Angeles. Carlisle interjected apologies here and there whenever Esme and Edward's voices would rise. Bella couldn't help but wonder how long Carlisle had played the role of peacemaker in the family.

He reminded Bella of an abused puppy—one who'd learned to keep this mouth shut and his head bowed out of fear of his owners. It was ironic. He was this strong, successful man in the business world, and yet, when dealing with his mother, he was the complete opposite. Edward just sat there, while his mother made one disparaging comment after the other about shirking his family responsibilities or his inability to follow the directions of a GPS, and he didn't even bother fighting back.

It pissed her off, and when Carlisle and Esme retreated to the lobby, Bella told him so.

"Why do you take that? Why?"

He shrugged and helped her carry the dishes to the kitchen. "Because she's my mother, and because I deserve it."

"You do not deserve it!"

"Bella, I've explained the pain I've caused my family, but you can't possibly understand it. Not completely. Yes, you and I share the same battle, but our wars have been very, very different." Edward smiled sadly and placed a bowl in the dishwasher. "It's just one day. I can handle it. But I'm sorry you have to endure it."

She wasn't satisfied with that answer, but she also recognized that she'd known Edward for a grand total of two days and making her opinion known probably wouldn't be a good thing.

"I'll finish in here," Bella said. "Go talk to them. Show them our tree."

Edward smiled and pulled her into his arms. "Our tree?"

"Yes."

He dipped his head and kissed her gently.

xxx

The tension-filled breakfast turned into a tension-filled afternoon. Esme and Carlisle were kind to Bella, complimenting her on the décor of the inn and seeming impressed when she told them she was the sole owner. That conversation led to one about the local economy, and the Cullens weren't surprised to learn that the little town of Forks was struggling just like other small communities in the country.

"Have you ever thought about selling? Moving to a bigger city?" Esme asked.

"No," Bella replied. "Despite the economy, the inn is doing well. More importantly, this is my home. I could never part with it. Besides, my father lives close by. Family and roots are very important to me."

"That's . . . nice to hear," Esme said, her eyes firmly set on Bella and Edward's joined hands. Carlisle cleared his throat and nudged her shoulder. She sighed heavily and smiled at Bella once more.

"Is the interrogation over?" Edward asked. His voice was calm and steady, but the death grip he had on Bella's hand assured her that he was far from relaxed.

"Forgive us, Bella," Esme said. "It's just . . . I mean, you seem so . . ."

"I think what my wife is trying to say is that you seem quite grounded. Sweet. Kind."

Bella assumed it was a compliment, so she thanked them.

"What they really mean to say is that you're not at all what they expected, and they're surprised that someone as sweet and kind as you are is sitting here holding my hand," Edward said softly.

Carlisle and Esme looked embarrassed, but they didn't deny it.

"Well, Edward, it isn't like you've had the best track record with women," his mother replied. "I must say the two of you seem surprisingly close for two people who just met."

"We have found some common ground," Bella said, smiling gently at Edward.

Esme scoffed.

"Bella, you seem like a lovely, level-headed girl, but I can't imagine what the two of you would have in common."

"You'd be surprised," she said.

Carlisle looked at his son. "She knows?"

"Yes."

"Everything?" Esme whispered.

"Everything."

Disbelief crossed their faces.

"It's nice to meet someone who actually understands," Bella offered.

"Understands?" Carlisle asked with interest.

Edward stiffened at her side. "Bella, you don't have to—"

"I want to," she assured him, giving his hand a squeeze. "You see, I'm a recovering alcoholic, too."

Esme gasped, and Bella instantly knew it was the wrong thing to say.

xxx

"It's not your fault. You are not the problem."

Edward had repeated this for hours, but Bella wasn't hearing it. Esme, complaining of a sudden migraine, had retreated to one of the guest rooms and had spent the afternoon in bed. Carlisle had tried his best to play his part as peacemaker, but the role of husband trumped all, and by dinner time, he, too, had gone upstairs, never to return. Bella tossed the dinner leftovers down the disposal and she and Edward were once again in the lobby, sitting on the couch and gazing at the tree.

"It's just rude," Bella muttered.

"I can't argue with that."

"No, you don't argue with anyone."

"What's the supposed to mean?"

Bella sighed and shook her head.

"Bella," he whispered, reaching for her hand. "What did you mean by that?"

"Do you ever stand up for yourself?"

"Not with my mother, no."

"Why not?"

"Because—"

"I swear, if you say 'because I deserve to be punished' I will never speak to you again."

Edward smiled. "Well, I love the sound of your voice, so I definitely won't say that."

She rolled her eyes and sighed a little louder this time.

He reached for a strand of her hair. "Bella, you've known me two days. They've known me my whole life. Trust me when I say that my relationship with my parents has always been strained."

"I think that's an excuse."

"God, you're honest. I love that about you."

"That's what you love? My honesty?"

"And your cooking."

"Hmm."

"And your kisses."

She looked away, but he gently cupped her cheek, pulling her face back to his. Their kiss was soft and gentle, and the tenderness of it soothed her frustration.

"You're right, you know," he said quietly. "It is an excuse. It's just so much easier than facing the impossible task of trying to build some kind of positive relationship with my mother—a woman who isn't interested in having that same type of relationship with me."

"That isn't true at all," Esme said softly.

Bella and Edward looked up to find his parents standing in the doorway.

With their bags.

"Our apologies for missing dinner," Esme said politely.

Bella was floored. "You're leaving?"

"We should go," Carlisle said. "It wasn't our intention to ruin your weekend."

It was in that moment that Bella understood. That avoidance thing Edward practiced? He'd learned it from his parents. And they were good at it. All of them.

Bella looked at Edward as he gazed at his parents. Didn't they realize that life was too short? Didn't the three of them realize that family was everything?

Try, her subconscious whispered to him.

"Don't go. We need to talk. We've needed to talk for a long time," Edward said softly.

Timidly. Nervously.

But he said it, and Bella couldn't have been prouder.

xxx

"This is your influence, I think."

Edward had asked to speak to his mother alone, so Bella had led Carlisle back to the kitchen. They were sitting at the island, and Carlisle was eating the sandwich Bella had insisted on making him.

"My influence?"

"The heart-to-heart that's hopefully taking place in the lobby," Carlisle replied. "Definitely your influence, and I'm grateful."

Bella shook her head. "I didn't do anything."

"I think you've done more than you realize. You must have said something that's resonated with Edward. It's been a long time since the two of them have had a civil conversation."

"I just asked why he doesn't stand up for himself."

Carlisle nodded. "Esme can be quite . . . intimidating. The woman is the love of my life, and my complete adoration of her sometimes blinds me. Our family is broken, Bella. It's been broken for a very long time. The accident forever changed us, and while I'd love for our family to heal, I'm just not sure if it's possible."

"You'd think for a family who came so close to losing a daughter and sister, you'd make more of an effort to heal the hurt and cherish the time you do have together." A mortified Bella closed her eyes and placed her hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry, Carlisle. I shouldn't have said that."

He smiled softly. "No, you're absolutely right. I needed to hear it. We should be making more of an effort."

Bella sighed with relief.

"Edward says he loves my honesty, but I'm afraid if he spends too much time with me, he's going to end up hating how direct I can really be."

Carlisle chuckled. "You're very, very good for him."

"We've only known each other two days."

"Yes." His eyes crinkled with worry. "You seem quite close, though."

"And that worries you."

"Only in that he lives in Seattle. Are you worried about the distance and the time apart from each other? It's just four hours, but . . ."

The question hung in the air. Yes, they'd discussed it, but discussing it and actually living it were two completely different things. Would they be able to manage it?

"I want to try," she replied.

"I think trying is sometimes all we can do. After all, the only guaranteed way to fail is to not try at all." He sighed heavily and looked toward the lobby. "Wonder why I can't take my own advice?"

Bella smiled. "There's still time. You can."

"You're right. I can."

Carlisle thanked her before climbing off his stool and heading toward the lobby.