A/N: Yep… I'm a little ahead of schedule.
The Goddesses of The Perv Pack's Smut Shack selected this little story as their Perv Pack Pick. I'm still finding the words (the thesaurus is out)… I am humbled, flabbergasted, bewildered, but most of all, sincerely grateful.
My Thanks to Team SGMR: orangeapeal, robsjenn, Sunshine, and my beta, PaintedTeacherLady.
I hope you enjoy…
...
Chapter Eight
The Care and Feeding of Magical Creatures
.
By the time we reach the house, Bella is peacefully asleep in my arms. Charlie's police car is gone—maybe he's getting more ice—but the other cars are still here. I run through possible stories to explain where we've been, because I'll be damned before I wake her up to face those 'cock-suckers.' I smile to myself, oh, my dirty girl and her dirty mouth. Opening the door prepared to tell my lame, 'she got lost in the woods and fell asleep' story, I find the house empty. With the exception of Sue asleep on the couch, everyone is gone. The unfamiliar silence is, at once, calming and eerie.
There is a note on the coffee table scribbled on the back of an old envelope.
I took the drunk ones to the hotel.
Be back soon.
-Dad
In the light of the house, I finally see Bella's condition beyond the soiled dress, and tangled hair: knees, scraped and dirty, puffy eyes with deep-purple circles painted on a canvas of colorless skin, bruised knuckles swelling more by the minute. She looks worse than she did at the hospital.
I did this.
I touch my lips to her forehead and feel the damp chill. She isn't well. I want to get her better. Help me get her better. I carry her upstairs, lay her in the middle of her small bed, and cover her in blankets, tucking them tightly around her, and placing her bear next to her.
I leave to gather a few things, and quickly return to find she's still asleep. Sitting on the edge of her bed, I stroke her forehead with my thumb until she wakes.
"Hey," I say softly, watching bewildered eyes scan the room, and then meet my gaze.
"Did I faint?" She's hoarse.
"No. I don't think so. I think you fell asleep." I continue to stroke and her skin begins to flush at my touch.
"Oh, good." She pulls her bear into her, "You carried me?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome." I grab a pillow and, offering my hand, say, "Here, let's sit you up." She pushes herself up without my hand and I put the pillow behind her. I sit back down, and give her the bottle of Pedialyte.
"You need to drink."
She takes a few sips, but keeps her eyes on me, wary.
"Edward, what happened while I was asleep?"
I examine the knuckles on Bella's free hand, thin layers of skin peeled to reveal pink, raw flesh.
"When we got here, everyone was gone. Charlie left a note. He took them to the hotel. Sue's asleep on the couch." I mutter.
"What else happened…? You can tell me, I can handle it."
"I don't know what you mean." I take a bag of ice and hold it gently to her knuckles and lift it again, watching condensation permeate angry wounds on delicate skin.
"Edward, tell me this look on your face isn't because of me." She's going to tell me she's fine, but I don't want to hear it. I continue to touch the ice to her hand when I hear her put down the bottle.
"Please keep drinking, Isabella."
"Not unless you look at me." I sigh, which I know is immature, but it slips out, and look up at her.
"Edward, I'm fine." I shake my head and go back to her wounds. "No, wait, skip that. Look at me." I do, expectant. Yes, Bella, tell me how fine you are.
"Alright, I might not be in the best shape of my life right now, but I am so much better than I was this afternoon, or yesterday, or last week. And it's because of you."
"Okay." I return to her wounds. This afternoon we weren't checking to see from how many different places you were bleeding. And, yes, this is because of me.
"Edward," she places a hand on my jaw, lifting my face to hers, and she speaks with gentle conviction, "I will work on telling you when I am not fine, but you have to work on trusting me when I say that I am. Trust me, okay?"
I look into her eyes, and past the pleading, I notice something new. There's serenity in her, a peace. She's somehow sated.
"Alright." I acquiesce and Bella pulls me in for a soft kiss, and strokes my end of the day scruff on my jaw. "I'll trust you more if you eat your sandwich." She smiles, relieved, and picks up one triangle of the sandwich.
"This is some sandwich, Edward."
"It's American cheese."
"Yes, it is. Thank you for making it for me." I smile proudly as I return to my work, securing the ice to her hand with a fresh handkerchief. From my peripheral vision, I catch Bella with a twisted smile as she chews her mouthful and cringes through the swallow. Maybe in my zeal, I went a little too far with the sandwich.
"It's a lot of cheese, isn't Bella?" I mirror her smile.
"No, it's… wonderful. It's… it's… "
"It's about a pound of cheese, isn't it Bella?" Her face splits in a grin, not aimed at me, and I can't help joining her.
"Good thing I'm not lactose intolerant."
"Charlie would have told me."
"Wonderful."
"Keep eating, Little One."
"Little One? Hey, I am not that little," Bella feigns insult, her raspy voice falling in and out of audibility.
"Yes you are. How tall are you, anyway, 5'1,'' 5'2''?" I tease. I reach for the washcloth on her bedside table. Pulling down the covers, I expose her knees and carefully wipe the dirt away.
"I'll have you know, I stand a proud 5 feet 4 inches tall, and that is before I even put on my big girl high heels. Why, how tall are you?"
"Eat your sandwich. I'm 6'2.''
"Oh, that's tall, even by normal people standards." She's trying to lighten the mood, and her effort alone makes it work. "So, 'Little One?' What happened to calling me 'baby'? It didn't stick, did it?"
"Isabella, you are 'baby' in my head, but I can't quite get it to roll off of my tongue. Calling a woman as strong as you 'baby' just doesn't seem right."
"You think I'm strong?" Bella wears a sweet, surprised face; like she just won her class spelling bee and with a word she never heard before.
"Shockingly so. Isn't that what we've been talking about?"
"I can be a lot stronger than this." Lord have mercy, she's getting her second wind. And I think I inadvertently encouraged her to keep up her act. "I can be very strong… and capable, and…"
"Bella. I know, I know… what I'm trying to say is that you don't have to be, okay?" Let me take care of you, baby.
"Oh, okay." Her expression is relieved? Crestfallen? I don't know.
"Eat your sandwich and I'll keep working on a new term of endearment." I place an innocent kiss on her knee and we hear the front door open downstairs.
"Charlie." Hastily, she tires to comb her hair with her fingers and pull it into a ponytail.
"Hey, relax… you stay here and rest. I'll tell Charlie we're home. I'll be back in a few minutes to say goodnight to you." Bella jolts up.
"Wait, we aren't going to Seattle tonight?"
"I… I thought…" Lord, we shouldn't go back tonight, should we? "Bella, I know you're strong, but you are exhausted, and hurt, maybe a night's rest would be good for you. Do you really want to go to Seattle tonight?"
Clearly beset by this decision, Bella looks around the room.
"I want to be in Seattle." I'm not convinced.
"Are you sure you want to leave tonight?"
"Yes… no." Bella looks around the room again, wistfully.
"We can leave tomorrow. I'll stay in Forks." She's not ready.
Hugging her bear to her chest, she whispers, "Will you still tuck me in if we go to Seattle tonight?" Oh, Bella. She had to ask me. What have I done to make her ask? I'm confused, but I asked for this, not only by permitting, but requesting her honest vulnerability. I can only imagine the muddle of her mind, this isn't about me—I hope.
"Yes, I will, Bella." I try to hide my hurt. "I will tuck you in if you're Seattle, or here in Forks, or in China… I will tuck you in wherever you are." She nods her head as she considers my words.
"Okay… let's go then." Bella finds her resolve. "I need to get dressed. You'll go down and talk to my dad?" I don't think I've ever heard her refer to him as such.
"Yes, I'll be up in a few minutes and help you get your things."
"Okay."
"Eat your sandwich."
"Edward," she stops me before I leave, "thank you."
"You're welcome."
I find Charlie in the kitchen staring at a pot of brewing coffee.
"I thought you could use some coffee for the ride. I assume you're still going." Charlie takes a coffee mug and a travel mug from the cupboard, melancholic.
"She says she wants to go, but I think she's torn." Charlie nods.
"Did she eat?"
"She's eating right now."
"Eggs?"
"Cheese sandwich." He nods again, still thinking.
"You think it's too soon, don't you, Charlie?"
He shrugs, and then shakes his head as he begins to put away the last of the cleaned dishes. After a few minutes he says, "I know it will be good for her to go back, but I don't know if it's the right time. I doubt the sky is going to open up and tell us when she should go." He glances at me, "Sorry, I didn't mean to, ah, offend you."
"Not at all. I've sort of been hoping for that voice myself."
He nods and grumbles, "I was hoping Alice would get home first." I see. How can he entrust Bella to near stranger? Give me the words to provide some solace.
"I know. I made a promise to you that I would stay with her every night until Alice comes home, and I will." Charlie stops what he's doing and scrutinizes me. He's Chief Swan looking for cues of deception, so I continue, straightening up and meeting his eyes, "And if she wants to come home, I'll bring her back."
"You can call me, I'll come get her."
"I'll bring her back, sir." Believe me, Charlie.
"You know, it can get a little rough… her nightmares. No need to be some sort of hero, if you can't handle it…"
"I can handle it. But," he needs me to say it, so I do, "if I have to, I'll call… I'll bring her back." Narrowed eyes glare at me, but he's beginning to nod.
"You remember all the stuff I told you?"
"Yes, I wrote it all down, I made a list, and I remember."
"Sometimes she doesn't know where she is and she doesn't always re-"
"Remember the dream, or having a dream. I got it." He's told me this before, more than once.
"Right." He relaxes and pours our coffee. "Since, Alice is gone, her bedroom is free, and there's a couch there, too."
"Yes, thank you." Please let's not have this conversation.
Charlie takes milk from the refrigerator, mumbling, "Well… I guess since you're going to be a minister and all…"
"Right. So, you got everyone back to the hotel okay?"
"Well, I didn't drop them off on the cliffs to fend for themselves, so I'd say it was a success." Charlie drinks his coffee black; I use cream and sugar. He is so much cooler than I.
~0~
"Edward, are you sure you don't mind that we're leaving the flowers for Sue?"
"Not at all, I think it's a great idea." Bella slips the card into the pocket of her jeans. Wearing her Converse sneakers, gray hooded sweatshirt, and ponytail, she looks particularly small, and young.
Bella hugs her bear as she scans the room one last time. I can't help but to stare at the bear's sad face. Where did you come from? Surely, you couldn't be from Mike and Charlie isn't the teddy bear type. This is good, I'm sincerely jealous of an inanimate object.
"So, your bear is coming with us?"
"Yes. He asked if he could come and I didn't have the heart to tell him he couldn't." Bella looks embarrassed, but hopeful for my acceptance, clearly this thing is important to her. "He's been keeping me company this week." I could have kept you company, if you let me. "This is Pedi," she waves his paw at me.
"Petey? Did someone named Pete give him to you?"
"Oh. No, not Petey like Pete, it's a 'D' not a 'T.' Pedi… short for, um, Pedialyte. Angela gave him to me. He was waiting here when I got home." Pedi? Pedialyte. I love this fucking bear.
"Bella, I'm not sure how to tell you this, but I have some bad news."
"What's wrong?"
"Don't worry, it's not a big deal, I'm sure we can rectify it somehow. But, I don't have a child's safety seat in the Volvo and I'm a little worried for Pedi. We can stop someplace on the way, maybe pick one up." Bella laughs, and my heart expands. I didn't know it was still possible for her to make that sound.
"Oh, well," she says with concern and disappointment, stifling her laugh, "that is a problem isn't it?"
"I'm sorry. I should always have one. You never know when you're going to need to drive a child… or a bear around."
"True. Well, live and learn, I guess. There really isn't a place open in Forks right now to pick one up. Do you think he'll be safe on my lap?"
"I don't know; it's a risk."
"Will you drive carefully?"
"With you in the car, absolutely."
Bella runs her tongue over her cut, "You have airbags, and everything right?" We're no longer talking about the bear's safety.
"Yes, that car is one of the safest automobiles on the road, Bella," I say in earnest.
"Good." Bella looks at her bear and back to me, "because we have some precious cargo here."
"Yes, we do." I lean in and kiss the top of her head.
"Okay, Charlie's waiting. How do I look?"
"Pretty, always. But keep your hands in your pocket."
"Got it." I grab her suitcase, and we head to the stairs. "You know, Edward, I can carry my own suitcase."
"Yes, Bella, I know."
~0~
While Charlie and Bella say their private goodbyes, I heat the car and text Alice:
We're on our
way home.
-E
The door opens and, as Bella slips inside, I pocket my phone. They both look a little shaken.
Charlie leans in, "Alright, you two got everything?"
"Yep, I think we're good," Bella says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
"I'm thinking of coming over next weekend… if you don't have plans?"
"Dad, you're coming to Seattle?"
"Yeah. I've been thinking that you don't always have to come here. I can go there too. Maybe I'll see if Sue wants to come. We'll have lunch or something."
"Yes, that would be great… thank you, Dad." Awkwardly, he leans in to hug her. She clings to him. Adores him.
"Okay, you two have a safe drive. Call me if you need anything."
"I will," Bella says as she clicks her seatbelt, but Charlie's eyes meet mine, his message is for me. I give him a confident nod, which he returns. One last wave, and the car door shuts.
"Alright Bella, and, um…Pedi," that will take some getting used to, "we have one very important decision to make before we go."
"What's that?"
"Music."
"Oh, that is important. What do you have?"
"I made a few different playlists for the ride, but first…"
"You made playlists? For me?" She is always taken-aback at the slightest gesture of kindness. I nod.
"I wasn't sure what you'd want to hear so I made a few different ones. We have…"
"And you did this for me?" I nod again, trying to contain my satisfaction at her pleasure, as I fiddle with my iPod.
"Oh, that look right there, that's going to be the end of me."
"What look?" Scrolling through my playlists, I feel Bella stoke my cheek with the back of her hand. And although I'm trying to play it cool, I want to wag my tail and crawl into her lap like a puppy.
"That look," she murmurs. "That nod… it's that boy in you who is so proud, but that man who is too shy, too embarrassed to show it. I love that look." I close my eyes, wanting to extend—to live in—this moment. This magical place where the fly ball is suspended in the blue sky, my mitt is open, I'm bound to catch it, but there's still a chance I'll miss.
"Come here," she reaches over to my far cheek to pull me in for a kiss, and I involuntarily wince at her touch. Damn it!
"Edward?" Bella turns on the overhead light and yanks my chin towards her to inspect my face. Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Alarm is evident in her eyes and voice,
"How did I not see this before?" Because I've been hiding it all night.
"Edward, what horrible, crazy woman gave you this bruise?" Her voice is laced with remorse.
"Shhh, don't, Bella." She pulls her hand away. I drop the ball. "Does it make me look tough?" I try to tease, but she pulls her lips into a sorrowful line. "Sexy?" She shakes her head, not willing to play. "Bella," I take her hand and kiss her palm, "I like my bruise."
"You like your bruise?"
"Yes, I like my bruise… now we match." At least I get her sad smile.
I rub her shoulder, her neck, feeling her ridged muscles under my hands. It's critical that she understands. "Bella, I asked for this… I instigated this. But you have to know that the things I said… when I put my hands on you, I would never really hurt you."
"I know, I know Edward, and I knew it in the moment."
"You did? Because it's really important that you understand…"
"I did, I do. I'm sorry… once I started, I just couldn't stop… I don't know what happened to me out there," she says, disconcerted, her layers of guilt smothering her.
"You needed it, Bella. That's all that happened to you." She nods, her gaze floats to the window. From my rear-view mirror, I see Charlie looking out the living room window. "Okay, I think we better go."
We ride off in silence, and though I sort through every possible way to lighten the mood, I come up with nothing. The heavy quiet is broken by the sound from Bella's cell phone. This will only make things worse. I know it is Alice; she's been vibrating in my pocket since I texted her.
Bella laughs once, "It's Alice… she wants to know why you haven't texted her back." Shit. Bella slowly speaks out her response as she types, "He didn't text you back because I am a total nut job. My fault… not his… details tomorrow. Love, B. Kiss. And… send." Bella looks up at me with an apologetic smile.
"Nut job?"
"I think that sums it up pretty well." How about emotionally abused widow? I think that says it a little better, but I'm not willing to go too far down that path—not now. We're on the brink of mood change.
"I think that's a little harsh… but, do we need to talk about this? The Alice thing?"
"No. I know Alice would never, ever do that to me." And me? Bella quickly continues, "So, enough of poor Bella, let's hear about those playlists."
"Um… okay, well, we have Classical…"
"Nope, I'll go right to sleep."
"Ah… we have Classic Rock…"
"Always a good option…"
"There's Alternative."
"Alternative? Or Alternative Depressing?"
"Alternative Depressing"
"Next."
"We have—Bella, I would never, ever do that to you either, just for the record."
"Oh… okay. Thank you, Edward." And it's a, 'thank you for the gesture,' but she doesn't believe me, I can hear it in her voice. Patience Jesus, she needs time, and I need patience.
"Should we go with Classic Rock?" Bella quickly pulls the conversation back into the light, and I let her, I want to be there too.
"Good choice, but we need to break this down a little further. Forgive the cliché, but are you more Beatles or Rolling Stones?"
"Beatles."
"Yes, I should have guessed."
"Paul or John."
"Why does no one offer George as a choice?"
"George?"
"Yes, George," she says, proudly.
"No, it makes sense. You and about one per cent of the world's population favor George. Of course, you favor George. I should be surprised you didn't pick Ringo." She laughs. We're back in the light, baby!
"How about you?" I give her a wicked smile; I want her to guess. "Rolling Stones all the way, and, let's see…" I peer at her, hopeful she sees me for who I am. "Keep your eyes on the road, Keith Richards." I'm giddy with her acceptance. "Yes, you are a Keith. I should have known right away from the eyeliner and dangly things in your hair. You're my Keith Richards emulating seminarian, aren't you?"
She runs her fingers through the back of my head and it makes every hair on my body stand on end. Again, she makes me want to bark or purr, or do some sort of cute animal thing. It's almost ridiculous… it is ridiculous. It's stupid. Juvenile. This isn't me, is it?
I discover a new a new sensation, a dense ache that starts in my chest and expands to throat. The longing for Bella to take me—to love me, nearly matches my desire to protect and care for her. It's unfamiliar, uncomfortable.
"May I?" Bella breaks my reverie, startling me with her electric touch on my hand, but she's simply asking for my iPod.
"Sure." After she scrolls through, her eyes, framed by apprehensive brows, look up at me.
"Edward Masen, your most recently played songs are… tragic. This is some seriously sad stuff."
I shrug, "I missed you this week." She takes my hand and kisses my knuckles.
"I missed you, too." I don't want this—not her pity. She's worried about me worrying about her, and I'm worrying about her worrying about me, worrying… Oh fuck it. My head hurts. Maybe this is why I never had a proper girlfriend.
"We're together now, Bella. Can I see that for a second," Bella hesitates, "I'll give it right back," she gives me the iPod and I take it in my far hand and hold it above my head.
"I'm not getting that back, am I?"
"No. I'll play D.J., you close your eyes, Bella, get some sleep."
"Are you kidding? I have three hours with you to finally ask a million questions, and you expect me to sleep? No, sir."
She turns in her seat, arms around Pedi, and examines me with the same look Charlie used.
"Let's see, where to start… " She taps her fingertip to her lips, playing with me, having no way of knowing that this is torture. "Oh, I know… tell me what it's like to be on the pill." Her delivery is deadpan; I'm impressed. And relieved, I've prepared for this one.
"Ah, yes, the pill. I thought you might have forgotten about that little slip up—seeing that you were a bit occupied at the time. What I meant to say was that I know. I know you are on the pill."
"I figured it was something like that. Alice told you?" I nod, still unsure how Bella really feels about my friendship with Alice.
"Hmm. I bet Alice told you all sorts of things about me." Bella sighs and it evolves into a yawn. "No fair, I still know nothing about you, Edward." I find the song I've been looking for and it begins to play. The cheerful guitar strings brings a sleepy smile to Bella's face. Her eyes close and she shifts, getting more comfortable.
'Here comes the sun, do, do, do, do
here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right.
Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter…
"I have George Harrison on my iPod, what more could you need to know about me, Bella?"
"So much. So, so, so much," she mutters, nearly asleep.
"As soon as this song is over, I'll answer whatever you want."
"Mmm-hmm." And... she's out.
Bella is right, George Harrison is underrated. Maybe I can call her 'Little Darling?' Nah, it's a mouthful, worse than Hospital Socks. I set the cruise control to the speed limit—a first—and roll my head around, stretching out my stiff muscles.
Hi God. How you doing? It's been a busy day here, but you know that already. Thanks for knocking her out; I need a little time to process some things… I'm going to screw this up, aren't I? You know I struggle with the 'everything happens for a reason' thing, but if it is true, what's going on here? Why does she knock me over the way she does? Why does she scare me so much? I have no comparison for how I feel. Oh, God, I have so many questions...
Harrison's, My Sweet Lord begins to play and I have to laugh.
"I really want to see you,
Really want to be with you
Really want to see you lord
But it takes so long, my lord."
That's really funny. It takes so long, my Lord? Well, we have plenty to talk about tonight. Let's start with my calling; we'll work our way up to Bella. So, are we still thinking psychology—no church of my own? I'm not certain about that yet. I'm not certain about anything these days, really.
I merge onto I-5, we're almost home; the three hours flew by. I've chronicled every detail of the last week, paying particular attention to the goddess in the woods. It was a gift to see her without her walls—one I might not receive again. Though I'm left with many questions, I at least have a new list:
1—Stay cool. If I can't understand my love for her—what feels like an overpowering, all-consuming, crushing love—there's no way she can.
2—Protect her. In the ways she refuses to protect herself, I will protect her.
3—Daily prayer. This was a good talk; I needed it.
4—Keep the car. God agrees that trading in this car for one with a dashboard control for my iPod would be a wasteful indulgence.
I pull up to her apartment—the bottom of the last inning. With the exception of a few unarticulated words, Bella slept quietly throughout the ride.
"Bella? Bella… we're home." Lightly, I stroke her the nape of her neck, easing her awake. She stirs in her seat. "Bella, honey…"
Eyes spring open, hands fly out and clutch the dashboard, bracing for a crash. Holy Shit.
"Bella, wake up, you're home." I pull her back into her seat.
"Yes, I know… I know," she's blinking rapidly, and fighting for composure. A nervous laugh stumbles from her mouth. My hand grips her shoulder so strongly, that I think I'm hurting her. I move to stroke her hair, instead.
"Okay, let's just take a minute."
"Mmm-hmm," she responds quickly, nodding her head, still fighting her battle. How did I not see this coming? I thought there were signs of her nightmares… is that what happened?
"Nightmare?"
"No, yes… I don't know… I'm okay. I'm okay, now." Bella takes a shuddering breath, her eyes examine me, "Are you okay?"
"Me? I'm fine," she holds my hand to her chest. I feel the hummingbird caged by her ribs.
"Edward, you're shaking." I am? I pull my hand from hers and return to stroking her hair.
"No, I'm fine. Let's get you inside." I exit and run to her side of the car, hoping I can open her door for her, almost making it. I'm fast, but not that fast.
"Edward, how did you know where I live…? Alice?"
I nod and go to the trunk to get Bella's suitcase and my smaller bag.
"Is that yours? Are you staying?"
"Yes, Bella, I'm staying. Consider your nights occupied… at least until Alice gets home." Please, God, no protest.
"Oh. Thank you." Progress.
"I have a theory; tuck-ins work best from inside the bed."
"I like how you think, Edward Masen."
"I like when you don't fight me, Isabella Swan."
"I'm working on it."
"I'm glad."
As Bella puts her key in the door, she grimaces, "Edward… Alice and I are usually really clean. But, when we left for the, um, wedding. Well… it was a bad week, and…"
"Open the door, Bella" Now, it's my turn to worry.
We walk in, Bella leading the way, and her arm goes slack, her purse slips off her shoulder, onto the floor. Silent, slowing walking to the bouquet on dining room table, she finally whispers, "Calla lilies and roses…" Bella explores the room as she turns, her hand over her open mouth. "You did this."
"It really wasn't that messy. It didn't take long… " My voice trails off as I watch an astonished Bella move through the open space of her apartment. Her eyes drift to where I hung the artwork packed for the new condo, and to her bedroom, where she runs to the door, looks in and turns back to me, still gaping. She moves to the bookshelf in her living room. I follow her, cautious, as she looks at the new additions.
"That's, um… the Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi," she nods, of course she knows the prayer, but she's still mute and my anxiety grows, "You don't have to keep it here, or even keep it. It just reminds me so much of you… And, I found this picture of you and, um, Alice. And I really liked it—you're so… it's so happy." Her finger glides down the silver frame. "It's a new frame, a wedding present. Everyone wants you to keep the presents. Alice will explain everything tomorrow…"
Bella turns to me, and in an instant, her mouth is covering mine, her hands on my face.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you." Her words vibrate on my lips.
"You're welcome, Bella." My muscles unhinge with the knowledge of her acceptance, her willingness to take what little I have to offer. "It's late, let's get you ready for bed."
"Bed is good, a bath is better."
"Good idea." I carry our bags into her bedroom, take off my jacket, and throw it over her desk chair. Bella goes to her bureau and takes out some pajamas, then proceeds to remove most of the contents of the drawer.
"It's only half a drawer, but at least you won't have to live out of your bag." What? I can't even process what she just said. A drawer? For me… I've never had a drawer before—I've never dared to dream of a drawer. I'm going to get special clothes, just to keep in this drawer, and a new set of toiletries. I'll make a list of things to put in my drawer. My things living with Bella's things—maybe they'll have babies and make little things.
"Edward, are you alright?"
"Oh yeah, baby, I'm fucking great. Thank you." She chortles, and comes to me planting another sweet kiss on my lips.
"I'm really glad you like your apartment, Bella."
"I'm really glad you like your drawer, Edward."
"I love my drawer, Bella."
"And I love my apartment, Edward." I swallow and step away from her before I say something stupid.
"Okay, I'm going to draw your bath."
"I'll put away a few things."
A few minutes later, Bella peeks into their small kitchen where I am busying myself.
"I'm heading in. Do you, um, want to join me?" I pause for a moment and Bella continues, "I'm not going to attack you... no hanky-panky… if that's okay."
"Of course it's okay. It would sort of defeat the purpose, don't you think?" Bella smiles with a bit of shame—and maybe rejection, I don't know. Fix this. "I'll try to control myself, it won't be easy, but I think I can do it."
"Thanks," I see a pink warm her cheeks.
"Oh, I forgot, put some bath salts in… that should help."
"I'd love to, but we don't have bath salts. Well… we didn't have any, but we do now, don't we, Edward?" I smile and nod.
"Gah, there's that look." My grin stretches across my face, there's no way to hide it.
"I'll be there in a few minutes."
"I'll be waiting."
The bathroom door is ajar, but I tap my knuckles just to be sure, "Come in," Bella's voice is soft and melodic, she sounds tranquil. I enter to find she is. All of the lights are off; only two flickering candles illuminate the room. Bella is neck deep in bubbles. The space is heavy with the sleepy scent of lavender.
"I heard the blender. I don't suppose you were making margaritas." She gently probes, amused and curious. I take off my shoes and socks.
"No margaritas, but I did make you something to drink."
"I'll have to tell Alice that blenders make things other than margaritas."
I place the glass on the vanity and begin to unbutton my shirt with shaky fingers. I've never been fully nude in front of her—in front of any woman. Well, there was Tanya, but…
"I hope you don't mind the dark," she whispers.
"No." As I pull off my undershirt, I feel immense gratitude for the dark. Though it could be worse, there's no way to hide, to fight, my body's response to her. Bella watching me undress makes me feel more naked than any physical representation of being unclothed could ever match. I pull my belt through the loops and turn away from her watchful eyes.
"I'm sorry. I won't look… it's just that…" I turn to see her adverting her eyes from me, "it's that you're so beautiful… it's… it's almost heart-breaking…" I don't know what to say. There's a sadness in her voice that I don't know how to counter. I'll try.
"You can, you can look. I'm… I don't know… shy. I like to look at you, too. You're so pretty, Bella." She begins to softly weep in her hands and I quickly finish disrobing, "Scoot up," and crawl behind her in the small bathtub. Pulling her into my chest, and wrapping my legs around hers, I kiss her neck and let her cry.
"Bella, you have plenty of reason to cry, but if this is about something particular… something I said or did, you can let me know, okay."
She sniffles, "No, you've done nothing wrong. You never do anything wrong, Edward." She's been fooled. "This is just me, feeling completely overwhelmed."
"How could you not, Bella? Shall I go over the events of the day?"
"No, thank you. I have them all running around in my head right now." I rub her shoulders and neck.
"Anything you want to talk about?" She sighs.
"I found a letter from Angela in my suitcase. She must have slipped it in before leaving."
"Did it say something to upset you?"
"No, Angela is… Angela is great. A saint, really. She ended the letter by saying, and I quote, 'I'm sorry for saying this on the day of your husband's funeral, but that Edward is perfect. Maybe someday you and he could dot, dot, dot." I vote Angela Weber for team captain.
"The letter doesn't sound so bad to me." Bella doesn't laugh. I turn her head to me, her tears have stopped, but she's contemplative.
"How could I…? How will I…? You're…"
"I'm not perfect, Bella." She turns her head back away, leaning back into my chest.
"To know Edward Masen is to adore Edward Masen. You probably have no enemies." So misguided. Do I show her my list of enemies? "Edward, is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?" Lord, this is your gift, so I dare to ask.
"Yes, Isabella, there is, but it won't be easy."
"What is it?"
I whisper in her ear, "Surrender." She stiffens and I wait for her response.
And wait.
"Do you understand what I'm asking for?"
"Yes," she breathes.
"Let me take care of you, Bella. That's all I'm asking."
"I'm trying… I have a little trouble with balance. Being out of balance… in my relationships."
"I know you do… and I know you're trying. Keep trying, Bella. Please."
"I will."
"Thank you." I reach for her drink, "Here, have some of this, it will make you feel better."
"Vanilla milkshake?"
"Mmm-hmm." As she drinks, I relish the feel of Bella's back against my sore chest—the way she rises and falls with each of my breaths, carrying her.
"Do you like it?'
"Mmm-hmm."
"Try to drink all of it. You didn't finish your sandwich," I whisper into her neck.
"I ate the bread." I hear her smile. She sips again, "There's healthy stuff in here, isn't there?"
"Mmm… just some soy protein, vitamins, minerals… basic stuff."
"Good… thank you." I rub my hands over sharp corners created by the meeting of delicate bones, her shoulders, her elbows. "I bet this drink is at least a thousand calories."
"At least."
"Good." With one word, the brightly lit concern in the back of my mind finally dims. I've feared, but dared not say aloud, that Bella's sudden weight loss came by her conscious refusal of food. To hear that she welcomes the calories quiets that part of my mind.
"Isabella, can I ask you a question?"
"If I can ask you one."
"Seems fair." It's alright, I can play this.
"You first." I'm not sure which I fear more, asking my question or hearing hers.
The picture framed on the bookshelf, has disturbed me since I found it. It is the kind of picture taken with an outstretched hand, blindly hoping to capture a happy instance of love and friendship. Two beaming faces expanding beyond the boarder of the photo. Bella's face is rounder, softer. Light brown eyes sparkle, and she's pink from the sun and laughter.
"How long ago did you take that picture with Alice?"
Bella's body freezes, hardens. I lock my legs around her and whisper in her ear, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry… you don't have to answer that."
"No… it's okay." After a minute, she continues, "Um… we were on a friend's boat. The end of summer… August. It was about six weeks ago. Around the time that I started to suspect… you know…"
"I know."
"I… I look different."
"You're pretty… now, then… always."
"Thanks… um, can we be done talking about this now?"
"Sure."
"My turn?"
"Okay."
"Edward, what's a seminary student doing with a Gucci suit?"
"Um…" Salvation army? No. Present from Jasper? No, sounds gay… not that there's anything wrong with that. Won it in a contest? It's really Carlisle's? Charlie's? Ah, Fuck.
"Edward," Bella pulls at my forearms slowly crushing her chest. "You don't have to tell me tonight. But will you promise to tell me sometime?"
I drop my head to the back of hers, grateful. "Yes, I will Bella, I promise." Thank you, Jesus.
"Edward, when you start a relationship with sex and death, where do you go from there?"
"We'll figure it out."
~0~
I wait for her in bed, she insisted on a few minutes alone in the tub. As she paddles in, I open the covers for her to join me.
"Try to control yourself; I know I sleep in some pretty sexy stuff." She wears a thin, grey, Forks High School t-shirt, flannel pj pants, and hospital socks.
"Come here, Cold One, shuffy-shuffy." She crawls into bed, and I pull her to me and hand her Pedi.
"Cold One? These names are getting worse."
"Sorry. "
"What's shuffy-shuffy? Is that like hanky-panky?"
"No… God, I haven't said that expression in years." I close my eyes and take in the unmistakable smell of her. "My mom used to say it to me when I was a kid. It's Yiddish. I think the real phrase is 'gay shluffen,' it means, go to bed, or go to bed little one, something like that. Some say shluffy, but, my mom would say, shuffy-shuffy.
"To tell you to go to bed?"
"Or to ask if I was tired… or needed a cuddle, or something."
"Mmm, she sounds wonderful. I can't wait to meet her." I kiss Bella's temple and press her completely to me. From her head under my chin to her feet ending at my shins, this is my favorite way to feel Bella.
"Is she Jewish?" Bella yawns, we're both almost out.
"No. I grew up in a Jewish neighborhood. A lot rubbed off…"
"In Seattle?"
"No, Chicago." I hear Bella's soft groan.
"Oh, Edward… so many questions…"
"I know." I blow in Bella's ear—another childhood memory, "out, out, bad dreams." My own exhaustion is seeping in.
"Thanks."
"Mmm." I hang onto the edge until I hear her purr, and I finally slip away.
~o0o~
As I wait for Jasper at the gym, I consider Bella's words from last night:
When you start a relationship with sex and death, where do you go from there?
I have an idea.
Belly-
Meet me at
Kells Pub
1916 Post Ally
7:00?
Take a cab
-E
Her response is quick:
I hope 'Belly'
Was a typo and
Not a new nickname.
RE-Kells-
Will Do.
Alice says hi.
-B x
Okay, Belly is out.
.
.
A/N As my daddy would say, "The hands of the clock don't always stay at 6:30. They have to go back up again."
The link to the PPSS is on my profile. The pics they selected KILL ME. Perfect. They even got Pedi!
I'd love to hear what you think… that's a review button down there :)