Dear Readers,
Happy Anniversary! It has been one year since I posted the first chapter of She Gives Me Religion for the Cherry Exchange contest.
We are approaching the end and, though we're not there yet, it has been a wonderful ride.
It was overwhelming to hear from so many long time readers last week for the first time. I'm glad to know you are out there.
Thank you all for your support of this story.
Thank you to the lovely group of women: orangeapeal, Sunshine(aka TessUnderground)who beta-ed this chapter,and robsjenn.
Warning: Angst in this chapter increases as we go. Put on two angst cloaks, maybe three (lots of threes in this chapter).
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Chapter Thirty-three
Three Witches
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For three minutes, I am all over the squash court, slamming the ball at an unmatched speech and force… burning off all of my bridled energy… until I am sapped. I bend over and cough, waiting for a piece of my lung to appear.
"See that. I smelled the cigarette smoke in your apartment."
"Leave me alone, Jasper. It's not smoking, it's my cold. You won. I'm done."
"Oh no. We are far from done. If it's a cold, sweat it out." He proceeds to embarrass me, punish me, as I chase after the ball, unable to get in a decent shot for the rest of the game.
When he scores the last point, I drop my racquet and press my palms to the wall, leg muscles trembling. "Are we done now, Jasper?" I get out between heavy breaths.
"No. Best out of three." He whips out a crushing serve.
I decide to play the games without complaint. He has yet to ask a single question about the breakup, and I prefer it this way.
Two hours and still no question. We're at Kell's finishing my second serving of Irish stew, and I begin to wonder if he'll ever bring up the elephant in the room—in my mind—its weight now crushing me. I see his game; he's waiting for me to open the door.
My insides are twisting with anticipation, the need to finally start the conversation so I can finish it.
"How's Alice?" A simple question, I figure.
"Not great."
Oh, shit.
"No? Is it her pelvis…? Did something happen?"
"Physically, she's fine. But, like me," Jasper gives a sideways glance, "she's frustrated and annoyed right now."
"Oh."
Time lapses—a waiting game to see who will continue. Finally, I give in.
"Frustrated at me? Her?"
"The name is Bella, Edward. And yes… both of you. But you're a little higher on the list."
"So, she told you. Did she tell you about how she doesn't need me…"
"Yes, yes. I heard all about it." Several times, from the sound of it. "Want, need, whatever… doesn't really matter, does it?"
Of course it matters.
"So you heard about… setting the alarm on my watch?"
"What alarm?"
I dig my hands in my hair. She saved my ugliest moment from our friends. What does that mean?
"What alarm?" Jasper asks again.
"Never mind… So, you really don't understand? You don't understand how what she said to me…"
"No. I don't understand at all." He takes another drink, and looks straight ahead as he speaks. "Alice wants to lock the two of you in a room together. I want to put Alice on a plane, fly to Canyon Ranch, and spend a week together detoxing."
His expression is hard; it's not what I expected. Maybe I've finally reached his limit of friendship.
I smile. "Finally giving up on me, Jasper?"
"No… not yet, anyway."
I nod, only somewhat relieved, and begin to play with my napkin, tearing it into pieces and rolling each one into a tight ball. I can't lose Jasper.
"So tell me, Edward, how do you see the breakup? The relationship?"
It's an easy question; I've repeated the story so many times in my mind.
"I met a girl. A nice girl, a lot like myself. We dated for almost two months. I learned about relationships in that time. It ran its course, and in the end, I think I'll always be glad that my first real relationship was with her."
I lean in and whisper, "I got to lose my, you know, to someone who was cool, nice… whatever." I straighten back up. "And now I can move on and start looking for the next one. The next relationship should go better, right?"
He stares at me for a minute, then breaks into hearty, dark laugh. I look at his drink and wonder how many he's had.
"I'll tell you, buddy," he slaps my back, "you're ability to delude yourself is astounding." He pinches the place where my neck meets my shoulder a little too hard. "Really, fucking amazing. It's a gift, Edward."
I press my head into my hand and rub my temples. I want to go home, now.
"Tell me what Sparrow has to say about all of this."
"Um… I haven't seen Sparrow since we broke up."
"You should have called him."
"No ph—"
"Don't," he snaps. "Don't use that excuse with me."
I swallow and gather myself. I owe Jasper something, so I put it out there. "Jasper, I don't think I've told Sparrow a whole lot about myself yet."
"You've been seeing him for a month. What do you mean?"
"We're sort of working chronologically."
"Where are you?"
I glance at Jasper, and say sheepishly, "I'm going to talk about my parents during our next session."
"Jeez." Jasper rubs his eyes, his body slumps. "He's being too easy on you… and you're manipulating him. Maybe I suggested the wrong person."
"No. No he's… fine." You're not responsible for my failure.
"Alright, give it to me." He makes a gesture with his hand like he's asking for my keys.
"Give you what?"
"Permission. I want to talk to Sparrow."
"No, Jasper. I can't. Please don't do this."
He turns his full body towards me, and though he appears to be smiling, he's actually gnashing his teeth.
"Edward…"
"Okay, okay, you can talk to him," I quickly say, willing to give Jasper anything he wants, as long as he doesn't give up on me.
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When we pull up to The Vine, Jasper tells me he'll be over on Saturday to watch college football.
"If you need me before that, you know how to reach me."
"Yeah. Thanks, Jasper."
"Get some sleep. You look like shit."
I laugh, reaching for the handle, "You don't look too good either."
As I exit the car, Jasper grabs the sleeve of my coat, "Edward, wait," the sincerity in his eyes frightens me, "Ever since meeting Alice… I don't know. What you and Bella have, had, no have…" I've never seen Jasper fumble for words. "What I'm trying to say is, true love is not the kind of thing you should turn down… don't ever turn it down."
I nod quickly and exit the car, chasing away from the lump rising in my throat. With a wave, I pass Carlton, my doorman, and nearly run to the elevator, down the hall, up the stairs and into my bed.
I made it the whole night without once asking how She was.
Grabbing my pillow, my replacement, I fall away into another night of turbulent sleep. I'm such a pussy.
~0~
I wake.
What day is this?
I've been in bed for a while—a day or two.
I walk downstairs, past the cans of hardened paint and turn on the TV. The Today Show. It's Friday morning—one full week since we broke up. It can only get better now. I can still make my appointment with Sparrow. Though it's the last thing I want to do, I'll do it for Jasper.
Sparrow drones on about closure and finishing things we start. He brings up how I stopped therapy years ago, left working for the company, and how I'm walking away from Her. I wonder just how much Jasper told him. Honestly, I don't think he's on the right path. I can hardly listen to him anymore. Fortunately, the session is almost over and I've barely needed to say a word.
"Your turn, Edward."
My turn?
"I want to hear it from you. One full story of something that ended without closure… you decide."
It doesn't take long.
"Okay. I have one. Detective Jenks."
"He worked your parents' case?"
"Yes. I would leave school every day and go to the station to see him. Carlisle and Esme assumed I was at school, doing after school stuff, I guess."
"You weren't playing ball because of your hands?"
"Right."
"So, what did you do there?"
I laugh. "Bugged the shit out of him… poor guy. 'Any leads on the case, Detective?' Can I help out, Detective? Look at pictures? Get you coffee? I can give my statement again?' Yeah. I guess you can say I got in the way. He finally put a stop to it."
"What did he do?"
"One day I showed up and Carlisle was waiting outside for me."
"Jenks called him?"
"Yep. And that was the end of that."
"And you see this as something you didn't finish?"
"Sure. Look at all of my resources, but I was never able to pull it together. You'd think my money, my parents' money, could at least fund a decent investigation."
"It's a common reaction, particularly for men, to focus on solving a murder instead of allowing the grief process to take place."
"Telling me I'm common doesn't make me feel any better." Angrily, I pick at a piece of lint on my flannel.
"My job isn't necessarily to make you feel better, Edward."
It's the strongest tone he's ever taken with me.
"Well, it looks like it's about that time, Jack." I stand to leave.
"Before you go, I'd like to talk to you about medication."
"Not interested."
"You want to go into clinical psychology, but buy into the stigma of medication?"
"No, it's not that. I just want to work this out on my own, that's all."
"Sit with the idea. We'll talk about it again next week."
~o~
I wake up in time to get a quick shower before Jasper arrives. By the time he knocks on the door, I've managed to pile up the paint cans by the piano, now hidden under a blanket.
He doesn't bring the usual football fare, but bags of groceries, actual groceries—salad, fresh fruit, and a week's worth of meat he puts in the freezer for me.
"Where's that cleaning person been? What's her name?"
"Jane?"
"Right, Jane. You should call her."
Her number was in my phone.
"If you can't get a hold of her, let me know. I'll send over mine."
"Thanks."
We each take a seat in one of my two living room chairs and have the first home cooked meal I've had in a week. We talk football, only football, and I'm glad. Until we reach the fourth quarter of the Alabama State-Texas Southern game and the seams of my restraint rip open.
"So, um, Alice is doing okay? Her pelvis?"
"Yes. Physical therapy is going well."
"Do you need any rides? I could always take her."
"I think we have it covered. Thanks, though."
I lick my lips and try to find the words that are turning around my tongue—the name I haven't uttered in week's time.
"And, um, Bella? How is she doing?"
"Sorry, can't tell you… Aw, son of a bitch!" he yells at whatever is happening in the game, but I can't peel my eyes away from him.
"W-What do you mean? You can't tell me?"
"Alice and I have a pact. Neither of you gets any information about the other. If you want to see how Bella is doing, contact her."
I laugh once, waiting for the punch line, but he is still watching the game. "Are you serious?"
"Dead serious." He looks over to me, then gestures casually with his beer, "I'm not enabling this shit and neither is Alice."
I'm bereft.
No information? But if they have a pact, it means Bella asked about me, too. I should pull my act together. Maybe invite her for coffee. Closure, we need closure.
Or, maybe not.
It's something to think about.
~0~
I'm in Kell's again. It looks like life has reduced my days into two options: staying in bed or coming here. At least here, I'm fed. I can talk to Riley about football scores and avoid talking to anyone or about anything I don't want.
I reach for my beer and see a glass of club soda in its place. This is Riley's new method of telling me I've had enough. He told me with words once—and it didn't go over well. Now, club soda appears, and I say nothing. I don't feel drunk, just tired and achy.
There's a pretty young woman sitting diagonally from me. I think she's alone. Maybe she's waiting for someone. Long chestnut hair and large blue eyes.
Different enough, but similar enough, too.
"Hi. How are you?" The words come out of me before I decide to speak.
"Um… Hi… good." She looks up, makes brief eye contact, and looks away.
Shy.
Shy is good.
I like shy.
I move over one stool, now just the corner of the bar between us.
"I'm Edward. I don't know if I've ever seen you here before." Curious how my fear of women has abated. Maybe I only needed one relationship under my belt. Maybe I don't care anymore.
"I'm Susie." She extents her hand in a business like fashion. It's soft and warm. She bristles at the chill in mine. I stroke my beard, wishing it were gone. "And no. I've never been here before. First time in Seattle."
I ask her a few questions and learn that she is here for a conference, waiting to meet up with friends. She laughs and blushes when I tell her how pretty her hair is. I want to touch it. So badly.
I bet she feels warm and soft.
Our conversation is over when her friends arrive.
"This is Edward," she introduces me, and I'm met with skeptical expressions by two men and a woman in business attire. They each shake my hand like we're about to merge companies and Susie says a quick, "It was nice chatting with you, Edward," before they all leave to grab a table.
I throw my credit card on the bar for Riley.
"Nah, it's okay, Edward. You only had a couple of beers." My confusion must be evident. "I just switched over to club soda because you looked so tired. Do you want some coffee or something?"
I shake my head and push the credit card towards him. "Come on, let's settle up."
"I can't, Edward." He presses his hands on the bar and leans in to talk. "Edward, you've gotta stop leaving those tips, man. It isn't right. I don't think you know what you're doing."
But I do. I know exactly what I'm doing.
"Alright Riley, let's stop fucking around with the tips. Let's buy the bar. You and me… right now. No more saving up."
He shakes his head and leans away, "Ed—"
"No, no, listen, hear me out. I'm completely serious. Let's buy the bar. You can run it, I just, I just want to be able to come here and… I don't know… see what you do with it. Just… don't change it too much. I love it as it is."
"Edward… that's nice of you. I'm gonna call you a cab now, okay buddy."
"I'm serious, Riley," I lean in and plead in a quiet, tight voice.
"I know."
"I can do it. This card alone can do it."
"I know."
Will no one let me help?
I nod and put the card back in my wallet. "Will you at least think about it?"
"Sure, Edward." He goes for the phone.
"No cabs. I'm going to walk."
"Hi, Edward." The redhead takes the seat I was occupying. After several nights of staring at me from across the bar, I knew she'd finally make her way over here.
"Victoria, right? I don't know if you've picked up on this yet, but I'm not interested."
"Oh… okay," she's insulted. Maybe I've been too harsh.
I mumble a quick sorry.
"No, I deserve it. I wanted to come over and apologize, that's all." She flashes a half smile and looks down at her drink.
"Fine… I'm waiting."
Someone should apologize to me—I'll take it where I can get it.
"Is your girlfriend here?"
"No. She's… traveling." The lie worked once before. "Why?"
"I wanted to apologize to her, too." Victoria looks different than she has before. Shame is etched into her face. I'm torn between softening, going easier on her or tearing her apart because I can—fuck it, I choose the latter.
"Well she's not here. And if you're going to apologize, make it quick, because I'm heading out."
"Stay for one drink?"
"No."
I made the right choice; being a dick is giving me much needed pleasure.
"Okay… I have a really twisted sense of humor. Sorry." She grimaces apologetically before she continues. "I misread people sometimes, thinking that they're like me. Really… you're girlfriend seems great. I'll tell you what, she-is-tough." She laughs and puts her hand on my shoulder.
I look at it—creamy white and warm—it shouldn't be there. She pulls it away, sliding her hand down my arm.
"Anyway, Edward. It was just a little joke, sending the drinks over. Clearly, it was only funny to me. I am sorry." She offers her hand, "Truce?"
I glare at her hand, but choose not to touch it. "Truce."
"You sure you won't stay for one more drink?"
"Positive."
~o~
I light a cigarette and sit on the curb across the street from Her apartment. The bedroom light is off again tonight. Is she out for the night or gone for good? I don't know. I hope she's safe wherever she is.
Have you moved on? Are you dating Jacob? Was I right about him, after all?
Taking another drag, I watch the orange ember glow. I wish I could crawl inside the cigarette—it looks warm there, and I'm always so cold. I fool myself into believing that the smoke I inhale is heating me from the inside.
I should go home.
I pull myself up and stagger past what used to be a phone booth. 'Never call drunk,' I once wrote. Couldn't if I wanted to. I smile at the irony. On some level, I must have known I'd want to. Glad I got rid of that phone.
This isn't healthy. Tomorrow is a new day. I'll get up early, go for a run, clean the apartment, and go food shopping—a small things to do list, easily accomplished.
I should see Carlisle and Esme, touch base with Jasper, too. I'll do that the day after tomorrow. Time to stop wallowing.
~0~
Twirling the TV remote between my fingers, I stare at my half-painted walls.
I'm so bored.
And hungry.
I should really go food shopping tomorrow.
The things to do list grows, but I can get nothing accomplished.
Come on, Edward—get one thing done today, just one.
I pull myself from the living room chair and head to the shower.
For the first time in a long time, I put effort into my appearance. I trim my beard, but avoid a hard look at myself in the mirror, knowing I won't like what I see.
I button up a shirt that Jay picked out for me once, still with its tags, put on shoes, and grab my jacket on the way out the door to Kell's.
I walk down to the bar letting the sixteen year old accompany me:
The shower did you good—you feel better. That was all you needed. Really, what else do you have to do today? You're fine. Allow yourself time off from life—you don't owe anyone anything.
The place is more crowded than it's been in a while. It must be a weekend. Beer is for children. I drink Jameson, hoping to go slowly enough to stop Riley from switching me to soda.
"Edward Masen," it's a deep, sexy voice from my past, "I heard you were hanging out here again."
I turn and wait for my eyes to adjust to the familiar, but different shape.
"Tanya?"
"Yes. Tanya. Don't look so surprised, I haven't changed that much."
I stand and slide my arms around her center; she reaches up and wraps hers around my neck—and for a moment, it feels like she's my long lost best friend.
"Tanya, Tanya, Tanya… God, you look gorgeous."
I squeeze her again, loving the new, full shape of her body. Large breasts pressing into my chest, my fingers dip down to her wide hips, and brush against her thick thigh before letting go.
I scan over the image before me, gone are the hard edges of bone and muscle—she is soft, warm, curvaceous.
"Stop looking at me like that, Edward. I don't look that good."
"Yes, yes you do, Tanya."
"Well," she cocks her head, "you're looking pretty good yourself. I like this beard."
She runs her fingers along my whiskers and gives a tug at my chin. I can't help it. My eyes fall down to her soft breasts covered in a tight, red sweater.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, trying to meet her eyes again.
"Office Christmas party, upstairs."
"A little early for a Christmas party, isn't it?"
She gives me a quirky smile. It must be closer to Christmas than I realize.
"Stay for a drink?"
"Yeah… love to." She takes the stool next to mine. "I think the drinks are a little watered down upstairs," she whispers with her frosted pink lips.
Riley pours me another finger of Jameson and Tanya orders a scotch. I love a woman who can drink.
"I heard you entered a seminary."
She makes it sound like a convent.
"Well, yes, I guess you could say that. I went back to get my Masters in Divinity."
"I was glad to hear it. It made a lot of sense, if you know what I mean."
She flirts with a sultry voice and one raised brow, bringing her drink to her mouth.
"And you, Ms. Denali, thought I was gay."
"Why else would you resist my charms?"
I smirk and finish my drink. Pressing my forearms onto the polished wood of the bar, I slide my body over until my lips are inches from her ear, the teenager inside encouraging me.
"I have a secret for you… I'm not in seminary any more."
"No?"
I shake my head and mouth, "No."
She turns to me and now we mirror one another—each resting one elbow onto the bar.
I'm coming onto her, without fear. So fucking liberating.
"So… what are your plans, Edward Masen…? What are you going to do with yourself?"
My drink is gone, so I take a sip of hers. She watches me take my time and I notice her pupils dilate—her breathing increase—her skin pink up.
"What I plan on doing is having some fun, for a change. Making up for lost time..."
"Sowing your wild oats?" she says wryly.
"Something like that… righting the wrongs of my past. You know, missed opportunities and all."
"We had a few of those."
"Yes, we did, Tanya."
My toes are hanging off the edge of the cliff. I fear no evil. I raise my arms and allow myself to fly…
"Tanya, I think we should get out of here. Let me right some of those wrongs."
"Edward Masen," she shakes her head, "as beautiful as ever… and just as maddening."
Tanya takes my hand, and presses her palm to my own.
"You see this, Edward…" Sympathy drips in her tenor… please no sympathy. "This is my wedding ring. You should look for these as you're sowing your wild oats."
I pull away. "Sorry, I didn't realize…"
"It's okay, Edward. Boy, if I weren't married to the love of my life," she lightens her tone.
"Congratulations, that's great," I mutter, hoping for some more whiskey.
"Let me show you something…"
Seconds later, she is showing me pictures of her twin boys on her cell phone. God, this is humiliating. Bitch. No, she's not a bitch.
"I get it Tanya… sorry, my mistake."
"No, no, no… don't get me wrong, Edward." She presses her hand onto my forearm, "I want this for you, too. Forget those oats. Find a nice girl, Edward. Settle down, have a family. You'd be great at it."
"It was great seeing you, Tanya," I dismiss her as gracefully as I can.
"Alright, Edward," she sighs. "Take care of yourself, okay."
"Yep. Thanks, you too." My clipped tone shoves her back upstairs.
I show Riley my empty glass. Since he saw the whole thing, he doesn't argue when I say this is the last drink and I'm walking home.
It goes down like water.
I turn the glass upside down on the bar, and sway my way to the door.
"Edward, wait…"
Fuck, not Victoria. I have no strength.
Busting out into the cold air, I continue to make my way down the street, but her voice follows.
"Edward, wait, just a second."
Fuck it, Edward. What do you have to lose?
I turn and lean against the wall. "Yes, Victoria. Want to rub salt on my wounds?"
"No, no. Of course not."
There are two of her in front of me, I blink until she merges into one.
"Edward, listen," she holds my jaw, stabilizing my wobbling head. "You and I are no different."
I laugh and squeeze my eyes shut. "Yes, yes, we are…"
"No we aren't. We are two heartbroken people looking for comfort."
She's the devil.
She speaks the truth. Fuck it, Edward… what are you hanging onto?
"Come… let me care for you."
Maybe she's an angel.
NO! screams in my head, and then the voice of reason comes…
You have no reason to struggle.
No one to struggle for.
Bella is gone.
"Come." Victoria takes my hand and I submit.
A few yards down, we are walking up the stairs to her apartment above a store.
A harsh florescent light illuminates the staircase.
I see her body sway as she takes each step.
Her red curls falling over the white fur draped over her shoulders.
Her high heel boots clicking on each wood step.
"Come in."
I enter the Lion's den, leaving my armor at the door.
I leave my body, too.
Watching, wondering what will take place.
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I take the steps down three at a time, racing for the door.
Out in the cold darkness, I turn into the alley and vomit whiskey and mucus and any dignity I once had.
I'm sorry, Bella.
No—I did nothing. I did not touch her, nor did she touch me. But I was close, too close. The Divine intervened when I was frozen with fear.
The whole way home, I block out images I never wanted to see—or maybe I did—and tell myself over and over that I did nothing but sit in her bedroom chair.
I walk into the lobby of my condo, past the front desk, and drag my hand along the wall for balance.
"Good evening, ."
I nod.
"Have a good night, sir."
I turn to attempt an appropriate good night, and see Carlton has a cordless phone in his hand. The lobby is blurry, but that phone, that diamond sharp image of the phone in his hand summons me.
"Carlton, the phone," I demand, stretching out my arm.
"Certainly."
I close my eyes and dial Jasper's number—one of two numbers I could pull from memory even in this state.
"Hello?"
"Jasper, it's Edward." I slump to the floor, against the desk, and tuck my chin, trying to hide my pathetic voice.
"Edward, where are you? I'll come get you."
"No. Don't. I'm home… I'm fine." I begin to beg, "Please tell me, Jasper… tell me how she is. Where is she?"
"Hold on."
He muffles the phone, but Alice's clear voice comes through. It takes excruciating hours to get through these seconds of waiting.
"Bella's fine, Edward."
"Fine?"
She has moved on.
"Well, not fine. She's spending a lot of time in Forks. She misses you, really misses you, and I think she's working through her own stuff."
"Right… right."
"You have to contact her. Do you want her number there?"
"No. It's okay."
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
"Edward, maybe I should come over."
"No. I'm going to bed. Thanks, Jasper."
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Sorry about the dot, dot, dot. I thought some of you might enjoy the heart-stop. But no, I did NOT make it a cliffie.
Someday, for those of you who love your angst, what happened between Edward and Victoria in that apartment will appear as an outtake, until then, use your imagination.
A review would be a lovely anniversary present. Just saying.
Love,
Liz x