This was written for Fandom4SAA
This Firefly in Summer outtake is an alternate POV covering from before Edward comes to Summerside, all the way through chapter 15.
This is told from the POV of Birdy, a precocious nine-year-old girl. She helps her dad run the art store/restaurant in Bay Breeze where Bella buys her art supplies. Birdy is not a character in Firefly in Summer, but Bella and Edward do indeed drive to Bay Breeze the day after Christmas to have lunch and for Bella to pick up a few things.
There's also a reference to Bella having the flu, as evidenced in chapter 7 of Firefly in Summer.
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Twilight
Much love and many, many thanks to my red pen friends les16 and faireyfan, for primping Birdy in the eleventh hour, and for loving her as much as I do.
Daddy had always told me it weren't right to watch the customers so close. But I never meant no harm, really. It's just that she was so beautiful, with her long brown hair that glowed red in the sunshine. One time, when Daddy let me put the paints in her bag (she always brought her own, 'cause of saving the 'vironment and all) she asked for an extra peppermint from the bowl on the counter. I didn't even ask Daddy, I just gave her one, 'cause I was in charge of that; it was my job to fill it back up when the bowl got low.
"Birdy," she'd say in her soft voice, "I just love your blue hair ribbon. It makes your eyes look so pretty."
I'd smiled so big I swear I could hear my cheeks squeak. "Thank you, Miss Bella." I felt like dropping a curtsy, like they did in my Ella Enchanted book, but I didn't, not with Daddy standing right there. He would've teased me about it later. Curtsying would've been pretty silly I guess, but somehow I thought Miss Bella would understand.
Miss Bella was from Summerside, a whole thirty minutes from Bay Breeze, and a lot smaller. We had all sorts of things Summerside didn't have… a Wal-Mart, and a movie theater… even a Krispy Kreme doughnut store, where they made the doughnuts right in front of you! But she said she liked it there in Summerside, 'cause it was quiet.
So I'd always carry the bag to her bike and make sure it was tucked into the basket, before I watched her start the long ride back home. She could be very mysterious, my Miss Bella. Mysterious is a word they use a lot in my Nancy Drew books.
"Miss Bella? Why d'you always paint your toenails but never your fingernails?" Her toes were always bright and colorful, red and hot pink, and one time blue glitter. She squatted down right there in the gravel parking lot so we could look eye-to-eye, woman to woman.
She held out her hands.
"Well Birdy, remember what I do?"
"Yes'm. You're a painter."
She nodded, all serious. "The kind of paint remover I use would take nail polish right off, just as quick as I could put it on. And really, you wouldn't believe how messy I can get… sometimes my hands get smothered all over with paint. My fingernails too."
"Oh," I breathed.
Then she looked around to make sure no one was listening, even though it was only us outside. She cupped her hand around my ear so she could whisper.
"I get worried that my toes feel left out, you know, because my fingers get to play in the paint so much."
"Ohhh, you take extra special care of them, so they won't get jealous." That was very smart of her, I thought. I bent down to study her feet. Hot pink toes and purple flip-flops. My favorite colors, I told her. She laughed and gave me a hug and said I was so clever.
Then Daddy holler'd at me to come fill up the ketchup bottles.
Miss Bella came every month to our stores. And she always came by herself too, until that first time she didn't.
"Daddy! There's a boy with Miss Bella!"
"Hush up girl, and stop spying on the customers," Daddy yelled from the kitchen but I knew he was teasing. He sounded gruff to other people but he was really just a big ol' teddy bear.
I ran to open the door even though I don't usually do that. And I might have jingled the bells on the door a little extra, too.
"Hi, Miss Bellaaaa," I called out, all sneaky like, 'cause I was curious about the boy that drove her in his car. He was tall, with crazy hair and sunglasses, and he walked over to open the car door for her but she'd already done it for herself. I could tell he wanted to touch her but he ended up just shoving his hands in his pockets. He was like some kinda puppy dog, all sweet and hopeful under the dinner table.
"Hey sweetheart," Miss Bella gave me a squeeze when she came inside, "you ready for school to start back?"
"Yes ma'am! I got a book list to read over the summer and I already read 'em all."
"Good girl," she smiled real wide and gave me a high five and I felt lucky and tingly all over, like finding a quarter in my pocket that I didn't know was there. She was proud of me.
"You should go to the library," that tall boy said, from the candy aisle. He turned all the way 'round and watched Miss Bella walk to the back of the store where the canvases were.
I waited 'til he looked back at me. "'Course I go to the library," I said loudly. "Where do you think I get all my books?"
"Birdy…" Daddy warned me from the kitchen.
I rolled my eyes. I wasn't trying to be a smartass but I knew that sometimes I sounded like one.
That boy just grinned at me, though. He didn't care. "I meant for you to go get some more books."
"You should take your sunglasses off, you know, 'cause you're inside," I pointed out.
"Right," he said, and he pushed them up on top of his head. "That better?"
"Yessir."
"I remember your mama," he said suddenly, and he leaned back against the counter. "She had dark hair, just like you."
Holy smokes!
"I remember when you were just a baby," he kept talking. "How old are you now? Eight?"
"Nine." I lifted my chin at him. "I'm just short for my age. Twenty-fifth percentile."
He nodded at me. "This was her store."
"Yep," and I started my wind up, since I'd told this story a million times. "Daddy owns the Surf-n-Turf next door, and then they fell in love and had me. Then they knocked out the wall, and now it's the only restaurant – slash – crafts store in the country. Probably the whole planet Earth."
He crossed his arms over his chest and sized me up, just like Gandalf did to Bilbo Baggins before the dwarves showed up. "Your mom used to give me a free licorice every time I came in here."
"Well, she wasn't s'posed to do that," I said slowly and squinted at him real hard. He had another thing coming if he thought I would give away the goods. "But I guess you can have a peppermint. They're free, at least."
He peered into the bowl and hummed.
"But only one to a customer!" I said quickly. Ooh, I could tell he was one of those boys you had to watch. "They're Miss Bella's favorite! She always gets one… I gotta make sure there's some left 'cause I always give her extra." And then I blushed; 'cause I'd just told him I gave her extra while he could only have one.
That boy's eyebrows rose up real high and he grinned like it was Christmas morning or something. "No kidding," he said. And he scooped the rest of the peppermints from the bowl right into his pocket.
My breath caught and stuck in my throat from being so surprised that he would do something like that! While I was wondering if it was stealing if they were free in the first place, he pushed a whole five dollars into my hand.
"But that's too much!" I said, whispering real loud.
"Shh," he laughed, looking over my shoulder. "Here she comes…"
My memaw would say that this boy was trouble with a capital T. And I think she'd be right.
He leaned over the counter on his elbows, watching me ring up Miss Bella's canvases.
"You ever hear of child labor laws, Birdy?" he said, right before Miss Bella popped him good on the arm.
"Be nice," she said sternly, even though she was laughing, and then she shoved him for good measure.
"I'm always nice," he grumbled at her, and I laughed. 'Cause right then he sounded like a puppy dog rolling over and begging for a scratch on the belly.
"Miss Bella," I said, "I'm truly sorry, but someone ate all my peppermints, so I ain't got any to give you." I looked real hard at the culprit but Miss Bella didn't catch on. Not even when he tugged my ponytail and waved bye, grinning, putting his finger over his lips to shush me up.
She frowned and looked in the bowl anyway. "Oh, that's okay Birdy. Maybe you can save a extra for me next time." She was back to smiling as she gathered her wallet.
The boy was already at the door carrying all her canvases. "Hey Swan, reach in my pocket for my keys. I got my hands full here," he said, and then he winked at me. I rolled my eyes back at him, like I'd seen Mrs. Roberts do when her husband made kissy faces at Candi, our waitress.
"What?" Miss Bella asked in a high squeaky voice and she got all flustered like I've never seen.
"Come on," he teased. "There isn't anything in there that's gonna bite you… much." And then he wiggled his hips at her, and I thought for sure she was gonna turn as red as a fire engine in July.
My Miss Bella might be shy and she might not talk real loud, but nobody can ever say she ain't brave. She grabbed the front of that boy's shirt, down by the hem and told him to hold still. And then she stuck her hand down his pocket so fast he made some kind of choking sound low in his throat. And he almost dropped her canvases, too.
I could tell the second she realized he had a pocket full of my peppermints 'cause she got a little bit of the giggles. She tried hard to hold them in, biting her lip and all, but they spilled out and bubbled over, like Daddy's gumbo pot during football season.
"Edward…" she said, smiling, even though she said it like he was in trouble. "Can I have one?" she asked, as they walked out the door. I don't know why she even asked; she was already holding them all in her hands.
Edward, I thought. That's his name.
"Well, yeah," I heard him say, "they're all for you." Like that was a silly question to ask in the first place.
I watched Edward put Miss Bella's canvases in the trunk of his car before he came 'round the side. Before he opened the door he looked down at his shirt, at the wrinkled part where she'd grabbed him. He rolled his shoulders, like he was trying to cut off the shiver that went through him, and he rubbed his stomach over that wrinkled place. Then he smiled to himself, a little crooked.
I don't know if I'll ever understand boys. Maybe I will next year when I'm ten. Or maybe eleven. Or maybe never.
Mr. Edward was by himself next time I saw him. I'd been a new fourth grader for a few weeks now so I was glad he came by after three, after school was out.
"Where's Miss Bella?" I asked, disappointed.
"Well, hello to you too, Birdy." Mr. Edward gave me a quick smile. He looked tired and kinda beat down. He wandered around the store with his hands in his pockets and I wondered if he was really seeing anything at all.
I followed him down the sticker aisle and gave him a licorice from the jar. He looked surprised but took it anyway, and chewed on the end.
"Thought you said you weren't supposed to give away the licorice," he said with that off-kilter smile of his.
I just shrugged.
"Miss Bella is sick, Birdy. Tell me what I can get her to make her feel better."
"Is she real sick?" I whispered, a little scared. "She's not dying is she?" I didn't like it when people got sick. That was how my mama died.
He laughed around his licorice, that silly red thing hanging outta his mouth like some kinda crazy lizard tongue. "Nah, she isn't going to die," he said, and tugged my ponytail. "She's over the worst of it, now. She had a nasty case of the flu."
"Oh," I said knowingly, but I didn't know, 'cause I'd never had the flu. Suddenly I wished I was like Madame Pomfrey, and could give Mr. Edward a magic potion to pour in Miss Bella's morning orange juice. I wouldn't even charge him anything. Not if it was for Miss Bella.
"Well," I said, "she's had her eye on those new color charcoal pencils. And she's always looking at these watercolor postcards here on the end of the aisle," I started walking and he followed behind me. "You know, the blank kind where you can paint anything? But she never buys them 'cause she said she didn't have nobody to mail them to."
Mr. Edward looked interested at that, and slid them off the hanger.
"She can mail one to me, if she wants," I said, hopeful.
"It's a deal," he nodded. And he grabbed the pencils too.
By the time I was finished with him, he had a little basket full of stuff that I knew Miss Bella would love. He even added a bag of peppermints on top.
"How do I know she hasn't already bought all this stuff over the internet or something?" Mr. Edward asked as he opened his wallet.
"She only orders paintbrushes from New York, New York, Mr. Edward. She said she buys everything else here 'cause she likes to support the local 'conomy."
"New York, huh? And you can just call me Edward, Birdy."
"Can't, Mr. Edward. It's against the rules."
"The rules? What rules?" He looked me right in the eyes, and I could tell he was about to laugh. Why was I always so funny to him?
I frowned to let him know I didn't like being funny all the time. "The rules, I don't know. Like I say 'Yes sir' and 'No sir'. That's just how it is for kids. You know?"
"Yeah," he said all serious-like. "I know. You're a good kid, Birdy."
"I reckon," I shrugged as I put everything in a brown paper bag. "You really should bring Miss Bella's reusable bag next time you come in."
"I will-"
"And give Miss Bella a hug and a kiss from me, 'kay? I hope she feels better."
He really grinned at that. "I might just try that, Birdy. You can be my excuse."
He pulled my ponytail again before he left. And I felt better, 'cause when he left he was whistling and didn't look so sad anymore.
Mr. Edward and Miss Bella came in to eat right after Christmas. I was so excited. They hardly ever stayed to eat. They came in through the craft store door but as soon as they said they was hungry I seated them myself in my favorite booth. The one by the window that looked over the water.
"Oh! Miss Bella! Guess what Santa brought! A whole set of Harry Potter, in hardback!" I was hopping around like a dummy but I didn't care, I knew she'd be excited for me. "I nearly peed in my pants when I saw them under the tree."
"Birdy, that's wonderful!" She hugged me tight and kissed me on the side of my face.
"You read that last one yet?" Mr. Edward asked and looked at our menu. I don't even know why, all we served was fried fish and shrimp, French fries and coleslaw.
"Duh," I gave a smirky grin just like his. "I was even at the midnight party at the bookstore."
"Birdy…" Daddy warned me from the kitchen. I swear, that man had ears like you wouldn't believe. I knew he didn't like me saying 'Duh.'
"Sorry, Daddy," I said quickly. "What can I getcha to drink?" I said, pulling my notepad out of my back pocket. I could probably remember what they ordered but I really didn't want to mess up.
"Where's the 'Turf' on this menu, Birdy?" Mr. Edward looked at me, all crafty-like. He pointed at the name of our restaurant. "Looks like you got a little false advertising going on here."
"Mr. Edward," I said, with every bit of dignity I could gather, "potatoes grow in the ground. And French fries are cut up and fried potatoes. That's where the 'Turf' comes in."
He grinned and winked at Miss Bella. "Fair enough," he said.
Miss Bella got up and said she wanted to go look around the store. "I'll have water with lemon, Birdy, and the shrimp and fries, okay?"
"Sure thing, Miss Bella." I watched her walk away, noticing that she looked skinnier than usual, and fidgety. I decided to tell Daddy to give her extra French fries.
"And for you, sir?" I asked Mr. Edward, all professional-like.
"I'll make it easy on you, Birdy. I'll have the same thing." I noticed Mr. Edward looked tired too. I didn't understand. Holidays were supposed to be restful.
I sat myself down in Miss Bella's empty seat and wrote out their order carefully, in cursive. Mr. Edward watched me write and then whispered to me.
"Birdy."
He didn't say anything else until I looked up.
"Can you keep a secret?"
I nodded, eyes wide. Well for sure I could keep a secret!
Mr. Edward pulled a necklace out of his pocket. It was beautiful. All silvery sparkly.
I breathed in real deep. "Is that for Miss Bella?" I whispered. "Is that her Christmas present?"
"Yeah," he said in a low voice, and he looked down the way Miss Bella had gone, to make sure she wasn't coming back right then. "Do you think she'll like it?" He looked back at me, all worried, and I thought again how I'd never understand boys. How did he not see the way she looked at him? It was so obvious. And then I thought about Hermione and Ron, and how much she loved him and he could never believe it. Not 'til the end, anyway. Maybe he was like Ron. Without the red hair and the big family.
He tucked it back in his pocket, like it made him nervous to have it out where she might see and I smiled at him kinda giddy. "She's really gonna love it, Mr. Edward. Really. Like, really." I was trying my best to help him out. But people see what they want to see sometimes.
"I've got to find the right time to give it to her," he said.
"You will," I assured him as I got up. "I gotta go put your order in."
I watched them from my side of the store while they ate. Miss Bella seemed quiet, like she was thinking of something else. Things were strange between them, I could tell. Mr. Edward should just ask her what was wrong, and then she should just tell him so they could fix it. He would do anything for her, couldn't she see that? I swear, grownups made things hard on themselves.
He ate his French fries one at a time, with cocktail sauce instead of ketchup, slouched down in his seat. His legs were all sprawled into her space, under the table, fencing her in and I don't think she even knew it. Like he wanted to hold her tight in a hug but this was as close as she'd let him get. Suddenly I felt sorry for him, because he had such a pretty necklace in his pocket and I just knew today wasn't going to be the day.
Miss Bella had painted me two whole postcards! I whooped and hollered when they came in the mailbox. The one with the red sailboat I had taped on the wall by my bed at home, and the one with the little girl walking on the beach was taped up here behind my counter. I wanted to ask Miss Bella if that girl was supposed to be me, because she had hair just like mine. I thought it was probably me. Probably.
I was looking at that postcard when Mr. Edward came in for the last time. 'Course then, I didn't know it was the last time.
I was so excited! "Mr. Edward!" I shouted. It'd been a while since I'd seen either one of them, almost two months. That was the longest ever. I had so much to tell Miss Bella. I wanted to tell her how I read The Shining and it scared me so bad I stayed awake for two nights straight and Daddy got so mad.
I grabbed a licorice from the jar and ran around the counter but my daddy was already wiping his hands on his apron, and coming out of the kitchen. I always wait when Daddy wants to talk to someone 'cause it's the polite thing to do. Even though I was dying to see Mr. Edward. I wanted to know if he'd given Miss Bella the necklace. I bet he did. And I bet she loved it, too.
They shook hands and I noticed Mr. Edward had two paintings with him. He handed the big one to my daddy. It was of our two stores, well, one store now that the wall was gone, but I could tell that it was wonderful, and I knew Miss Bella had done it. She'd made our place beautiful. I could see the ocean in the corner, and there was a lady standing outside right by the door… and suddenly I got all teary, 'cause it was supposed to be my mama, I could tell, even from way back here at the counter.
Then my daddy hugged Mr. Edward hard, and thumped him on the back, like guys do sometimes. My daddy never hugs nobody, 'cept me. I started to feel funny. And confused.
I don't know why, but I felt like running away right then. I wanted to run until I could get under my covers and hide, and not have to talk to anybody. And then I thought of Harry, and how he was scared lots of times, but he never ran, not ever, because he was brave. So I told my legs to stay where they were and I watched Mr. Edward walk my way. He didn't look like his normal self though. His eyes were red and his face was all bristly.
He took the licorice from my hand and tucked it in the pocket of his t-shirt. I'd forgotten I was even holding it.
"This is for you, Birdy. Miss Bella painted it," he said, real soft. He held out the painting but I shook my head. I wouldn't even look at it. I didn't know what was going on but I just knew if I took that painting from Mr. Edward it meant something bad. Bad, bad, bad.
He laid it behind me on the counter and suddenly he was hugging me so tight I couldn't hardly breathe, but I hugged him back, 'cause I could tell he needed it.
"You be a good girl now, Birdy," he whispered in my ear, and then he kissed me on the forehead and put me back on the floor. He tugged my ponytail one last time before he walked away and out the door.
I still hadn't said anything as I watched him pull out of the parking lot in his car. Daddy locked the door and drew the shutters, even though it was only four o'clock in the afternoon. He flipped the sign to 'Closed' instead of 'Open.'
"What are you doing?" I asked. I hated how scared my voice sounded. I didn't want to sound like that so I cleared my throat. "Why are we closing?"
"Come on Birdy," my daddy sighed. He sounded tired and sad. "Let's go home."
"NO! What's going on?" I started to cry. "Why doesn't anyone ever tell me what's going on? I wanna know what's going on!" I screamed at him and stomped my foot but he didn't get mad. He gathered me up in a hug just like Mr. Edward did.
"Come on, Birdy," he said again, and he picked me up like he used to do when I was little. "I'll get you some ice cream. Here, I got your book. Let's go home."
"My painting!" I sobbed, and he let me pick it up from the counter. He held me in his arms and rocked me back and forth while I held it tight in my hand.
And then I buried my face in his neck and cried and cried, for why, I didn't know.
Thank you to aylah50 & coldplaywhore for all the tremendous hard work to put this together.
Thank you to all the authors who contributed.
And thank you for reading, and if you donated, your support of this wonderful cause.
Birdy's book references:
Ella Enchanted, by Gail Carson Levine
The Nancy Drew Mysteries, by Carolyn Keene
Gandalf and Bilbo are from The Hobbit, by JRR Tolkien
The Shining, by Stephen King
Madame Pomfrey, Harry, Hermione and Ron are all from The Harry Potter series, by JK Rowling