*hides*… *shields self from haters throwing tomatoes* I'm really, really sorry for taking so long in updating, but life hit a bump in the road so I had to get that done and dusted beforehand.
A/N- Oooh Edward… you step a little too far over the line. Tut tut.
*TISSUE WARNING*
The older I get, the more that I can see
How much he loved my mother and brother and me
And he did the best he could
And I only hope when I have my own family
That every day I see
A little more of my father in me.
(Song for Dad – Keith Urban)
Edward.
Although I broke the speed limit by at least twenty miles per hour, as soon as I arrived at the hospital, I couldn't find it in myself to walk through the automatic doors. My words to Bella yesterday were… unforgivable. She wouldn't be expecting me to come; she probably thinks that I don't care about any of it. With that large portion of shit on my china plate, I couldn't find it in me to run inside. Rummaging around the glove compartment, I found my packet of Malboro Lights and my lighter, rolled down the window and lit up. As the nicotine flowed through my system, I managed to calm down a smidgen.
I left it down to the last possible second, when my fingers were feeling the burn from the cigarette, till I threw it through the gap in the window. Going back into my glove compartment, I found a box of Ice Breaker spearmint mints that Alice must have left in here. Meh well, her lose is my gain. Popping a mint into my mouth, I exit my car, lock it and prepare myself for what may be waiting inside.
I repeatedly ran my hands through my hair. I kept stopping in my step as part of my brain attempted to convince me in turning around and going home. But I paid more attention to the other half, which told me to stop acting like chicken shit and get my ass inside.
The hospital building welcomes you with a large gust of warm air, probably a way in saying 'get comfortable now before the fun and games begin,' – or something along those lines. Don't know if you've realised or not, but I hate this place. It reminds me of death and pain and… eurgh. Like, just imagine the number of illnesses floating around this place right now. There are hundreds of patients; most of whom have a completely different illness to the rest. It just freaks me out. If dad hadn't become a doctor before I was born, I probably would have told him to reconsider. 'Cause I wasn't going to go to no fucking 'take-your-snotty-nosed-child-to-work-day'.
See if Bella doesn't appreciate this. God, I'll be mental. Takes me a-fucking-lot to get this far.
There are two ladies sitting at the reception desk. One who is a blonde who looks about the same age as me. She's filing folders into a cabinet. The other is a darker shade of blonde with the odd strand of grey squiggling through her hair. She is rather on the plump side and staring intently at the computer. The telephone rings making me jump slightly. Young Blonde stares at her partner, notices that she's still looking at a computer screen, then runs to get the phone.
"Good afternoon, Forks Community Hospital, how may I help you?... One second please." Young Blonde covers the mouth piece with her hand. "Patricia!" She hisses.
Patricia looks up at Young Blonde and looks to where she's pointing. Straight at me. Young Blonde goes back to her phone call. Patricia straightens up in her seat and starts to ask how she can help.
"I need to see Bella Swan, please. If you could tell me which room she is in?"
"I'm sorry, visiting hour starts at four. You can only go through if you're a family member."
"Excuse me, I'm the father to that child she's carrying. Does that not count for anything?"
"Sir I would like to ask you to calm your temper." My anger is rising, but I couldn't hold back my tone. Its utter bullshit that I'm not allowed through when it was my child in danger!
"Do you even know why she's here? What if she had been going into labour and it wasn't visiting hours. Would I have to back away then?"
Patricia is getting pissed.
"Sir if you do not control your voice, I will have to ask you to leave. Miss Swan has made it clear that she only wants her father in with her at the moment. If you come back at four o'clock then we can ask her then."
I stepped forward and slammed my hands down on Patricia's desk. "Fuck that! I need to see Bella, now!"
"Edward?"
Aww shit. It's daddy dearest and he sounds as pissed as Pat.
Turning around, I shoved my hands deep into my trouser pockets and sighed angrily. "Mind explaining to me why I could hear your voice all the way down that hall?"
I thumbed behind me to point to Pat. "'Cause this bitch won't let me see Bella."
"Calm down, Edward. Refrain yourself from speaking unnecessarily at my staff and listen to what I have to say."
"'Kay." I mumbled quietly.
"Got it?"
"Yes!" Jesus effin' Christ, why do parents always do that? Double check that you understand the simple question they asked. Maybe it's just my parents that do it.
"Bella is very shaken up; she needs to rest. If you go in there now with the temper that you currently hold, she won't receive that rest. It's two o'clock now, go home, get something to eat, get dressed and you can be back here for visiting hour and I'll ask Bella if she'll allow you to go in."
I opened my mouth to say my reply, but dad is too smart for my own good – he beat me to it. "Before you start, let me say this final thing. I fully understand what you're going through –."
"No you don't."
Carlisle looked shocked by my outburst. "Excuse me?"
"You have no idea what I'm going through. You may have treated people who have been through this, but that doesn't make you a fucking expert! You've never lost a fucking child! You don't know jack shit!"
"Edward, there are times you step too far over a line that you should never cross. Because of that recent outburst, I am forbidding you to go anywhere near Bella for the time being. Your baby is perfectly fine. If there was anything wrong, I would have told you. So now, go home."
I stared at my father, wondering where the hell that came from. But after a while, I didn't have the energy to argue with him. Today has messed me about and I just wanted to go home. Shrugging my shoulders, I waved a sweet, sarcastic wave at Fat Pat and turned to leave. "Byee!" I sang cheerily on my way out.
xxx
"Hi…" I called out to the house, and to anyone who may be home. Mother of mine walked through from the living room, double checked the time on her watch then sighed in frustration.
"Is it too hard to stay at school all day, for one day?"
"Bella was in an accident, she had to go to hospital."
Esme's facial expression instantly changed to one of concern and worry. "Oh, my goodness. I am so sorry, is she okay? How's the baby?"
"Dad says that they're both fine, but they wouldn't let me see her! He just turned me away."
"Edward your father wouldn't just turn you away. There must have been a reason for it. So, what happened?"
"I went there, and there was this fat bitch who was all 'you're not going through, you're not family. Blah, blah, bullshit,' then dad came over, said shit that made no sense and was like 'crossed a line' or something 'go home. Don't see Bella,' see? Really confusing."
"And why did he say you had crossed a line? What did you say first?"
"Er…" With one finger, I scratched the top of my head. "Just that he doesn't know what I was going through and… something else…" Thinking back now, that was a really stupid thing to say. But I was pissed, you can't blame me.
"Oh Edward, you didn't."
The hell?
Someone wanna fill me in here?
"Didn't what? What are you on about?"
Mum rubbed her face with one hand, and then made me follow her into the living room which she had just vacated. She sat me down on a leather seat and then walked over to a bookcase which holds all our baby books and photo albums. She picked a certain album, came back over and passed it to me. "Look at that." She said, then took a seat and left me to it.
I pulled open the front cover, coming across the first page that didn't hold any photos, but a piece of paper which had a saying written neatly on it.
"No-one ever really dies, as long as they took the time to leave us with fond memories – Chris Sorensen"
I can't describe the confusion that covered my body. Because I couldn't tell whether I was confused or not.
It's a very weird cycle.
I flipped over the page, this time finding some photos. The first four are of my mum and dad – looking really young and as in love as they are now. Seriously, when I mean young, I mean, like, my age. Dad had his arm around mum's shoulders, their heads tilted together and both smiling sweetly at whoever took the picture.
The next photo held a full body shot of both. "The hell were you wearing?" I couldn't help but laugh. Mum had been wearing trousers so high, they put Simon Cowell to shame and a puffy lilac blouse. All her hair had been tied up with them massive clip things that look like pincers. And, oh holy shit, dad looked like some guy from a cheesy sit com.
"When were these taken?"
"… Ooh… eighty-eight…?"
I continued to flick through the pages – acting like Alice when I saw an outfit they should never have worn – I was starting to wonder why she had given me this album. Then I spotted something - a photo of mum, heavily pregnant.
First I just thought it was Emmett. But each of us has our own album that starts during the pregnancy and is still going on now – we have a couple each. So why aren't his pictures in his album? Also, Emmett was born in May 1990, and mum said these were taken in 1988. This clearly is not Emmett.
I turned the page, watching the pregnancy continue, and then the photos just stopped. The rest of the pages are blank. Then I went back to the quote at the start, this baby must have died. My sibling… before Emmett was born, had died, and this is an album for them.
"Mum?" I looked up from the album, with a new chill rushing through my blood stream. Mum wiped away some tears away with the tip of a finger and patted her cheeks dry with the palms of her hands. "Could you tell me about this?"
She gathered her emotions together, took some calming breaths and readjusted the way she sat before beginning.
"When your father and I were the tender age of eighteen, I became pregnant for the first time. We had been together for a few years, he was going to soon start studying as a doctor, and everything was fine. Five, six months down the line, everything was as it should be. We had the names picked, a house we had bought together and a family that supported us to the bone. But at eight months, a tragedy struck and the baby never made it."
I've never seen my mum break down into tears like just now. It's literally the worst sight in the world. I desperately wanted to comfort her, hug her tight or whatever would do, but I couldn't move. The shock, depression and realisation that life can change in an instant kept me glued to my seat.
"I'm so sorry, mum…"
"Thank you. We're sorry that we never told you, but as parents you want to keep whatever could upset your child, well away. We still were very young when Emmett had been born, and then Alice, and then yourself, so it could be that we just didn't think. Then time went on, and we continued to keep the pain away from you all."
I kind of understand why they didn't tell us… but it would have been nice to know sooner.
"Can I ask you a few questions?" I didn't want to say anything which could trigger another round of tears.
"Of course you can."
"What were the two names that you had picked out?"
"Dale and Alice."
"And had it been a boy or a girl?"
This is the million dollar question. Did I have another brother or sister?
"A little boy. Which is why Emmett's middle name is Dale."
"And why Alice's middle name is… well, Alice."
We sat in the silence for a few minutes, taking in the information from our conversation.
I broke the silence with: "no wonder dad said what he did. I feel so bad."
"You shouldn't feel bad, Edward – you didn't know. But you must think before you say things – you never know the effect your words could have on people. Like when you're next talking to Bella – don't allow yourself to say anything degrading about either her or your child. After the trauma she has been through today, you cannot afford to add to that with some harsh words."
"Do you think she'll allow me to visit?"
"I think that if she sees how much effort you are putting in and how much you truly mean what you say, then she'll come around – she'll forgive you. But you must prove yourself first."
Oh, I will.
After the story I just heard and the day I've had, I've realised how important life is – how fragile it is.
The Edward Cullen from before has gone.
A/N- I didn't want to end it on any sort of cliff-hanger, just in case I disappear again like last time.
Thank you for reading. Your comments and feedback mean the world *heart*
RosieRathbone xx
