Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.
Many thanks to Jadsmama and Ladysharkey1, my amazing beta team for this story. You ladies rock!
I apologize for missing last week's update. My real life gave me hell and that, combined with FanFiction being fail on the few moments I happened to be near a computer meant no update :(
13.
The talk.
"It's why they call it the graveyard shift, buddy!" Banner grinned as he slapped Edward on the back in a way that insinuated way more familiarity between the two than actually existed.
Edward merely groaned, leaning back against his locker as he tried to get his mind away from dangerous thoughts. But man, did he want a fix right now. Something to take the edge off and make him feel less worn and beaten down.
Sleep, that was all he needed, or so he kept reminding himself. A good, long morning – and preferably a considerable part of the afternoon as well – of lying in bed in a state somewhere between unconscious and comatose.
Banner trying to crack jokes, however, was something he did not need; especially not that early in the morning and coming down from the night shift.
"You missed morning rounds," he therefore answered, trying his hardest to keep the sneer out of his voice. "Molina wasn't happy."
"Molina may think she's only seconds away from running this place," Banner growled, his jovial mood immediately shifting as he slammed his locker shut with a little more force than necessary. "But the last time I checked, she and I were still equals on the floor."
Edward shrugged. "So why did you miss rounds?"
Banner's grin exposed him as the jerk he was at heart. "Let's just say I had better things to do at seven in the morning than listen to some half-sleeping doctor mutter things I can just as well read on a chart." The wink that followed his cocky statement left little to the imagination as to what those things might have been, even if Edward hadn't known Nurse Beckett wasn't on the schedule that day.
"Are you planning to tell Molina?" Edward raised his brow, trying to picture the face of Doctor Maggie Molina, straight-laced and almost matronly in her ways, as her younger and infinitely brawnier colleague informed her that his bedroom antics had been responsible for his sin against the international moral code of conduct for doctors worldwide.
You never missed rounds unless you or one of your patients was in danger of death.
"Nah." Again Banner grinned confidently, his shoulder bumping conspiratorially against Edward's as he passed him on the way out. "And have her burst an artery right in the middle of the hospital? We're already one doc short. I'm nowhere near masochistic enough to want to explain to Nicky that I'm going to be seeing even less of her than I already am."
"You might be right about that." Edward chuckled, a small sigh of relief escaping his lips as he closed his own locker. In thirty minutes he will be in his bed. Finally! "Well, good luck!"
"Thanks!" Banner grinned, stopping on his way out to brush a few errant locks of hair back into place. "I have a feeling I'm going to need it."
Edward could already hear the telltale sounds of a very annoyed Maggie Molina laying into Banner as he made his way out of the hospital. Good. The guy had, after all, skipped rounds, which was something you just didn't do. Hell, not even when he was at his worst had he once missed rounds and that was saying something since half the time he hadn't even been aware where the hell he was. Let alone what time of day he was living in.
"Did you hear Molina laying into Banner just now?" Rachel's voice sounded excited even though Edward was pretty sure she'd gotten less rest than he had that night, her hurried footsteps catching up with his on the way out.
"I caught the gist of it," Edward chuckled, holding the door open for her. "He deserves every bit of flak he gets, though."
"Agreed," Rachel nodded, rubbing her eyes as suddenly they were out in the bright light of morning. "Do you wanna grab some breakfast before going home? There's a place just around the corner that serves the most amazing French Toast you're ever going to taste."
His stomach grumbled loudly as if to add more weight into the balance as Edward weighed the pros and cons of delaying sleep against having a full stomach. "Sure," he finally decided, "lead the way."
She had been right; around the corner, just a couple of feet from the hospital parking lot, sat a quaint little diner, already seemingly packed to the rafters with people who all seemed to look faintly familiar. It was one of the perks, as well as the downside, of living in a small town.
The added bonus of having Rachel lead the way to what she claimed to be the promised land of all breakfast foods, was that he got to discover all the while Rachel Black had been hiding a very fine ass underneath those pink and – regrettably – unflattering nurses' scrubs she usually wore; her skinny jeans and short jacket making it pop into vision from out of nowhere. It was slim and toned, revealing that, like him, she probably liked to start those mornings on which she didn't just come off the night shift with a good long run. Something else they have in common.
Still, it wasn't quite as finely shaped and delectable as….No! Edward's eyes narrowed as he put a stop to his thoughts, reminding himself of the promise he'd made, to himself and to Carlisle. He wasn't going to think about her anymore. Not like that, at least. She was merely a passer-by in his life; a patient's relative, nothing more. Her ass shouldn't even be an issue to him. No matter how perfect it was.
"Edward?" Rachel's head was tipped to the side as she studied him, the slight guilty blush on his cheeks confirming her suspicion that he had, indeed, been checking out her ass. Progress! The kisses they'd shared after both their dates had left her hungry for more – much more – and quite impatient to explore what the hot doctor had been hiding underneath his impeccable expensive clothes. Maybe soon she'll finally find out….
"So," Edward hedged, trying to make up for the staring - and the thinking about other women while he had been staring, though she didn't know about that - and the absence of mind, "this place is supposed to have the best French Toast in the world, huh?"
She nodded furiously, smiling at a few people as they entered the diner and saying 'hello' to a couple of others while she plowed her way through the diner towards a small, free table near the back. "Just wait until you taste it."
"Rach!" a short girl who looked to be somewhere in her mid-teens cried out, bounding over towards them the minute she spotted the familiar face across the room. "I didn't know you were working last night."
"I was, though thank God my shift is over!" Rachel groaned, hugging the girl close. "How are you, Angie?"
"Fine," the girl giggled, though I could have done with a bit more peace and quiet on my Sunday morning. My feet are killing me!"
"I'm surprised your father lets you work on Sunday," Rachel answered as Edward sat back, amused by the banter going on in front of him.
"He wasn't exactly overjoyed when they called me to fill in for Lauren but what can you do? Someone's gotta serve the good people of Forks their breakfast. He agreed as long as I'm back and looking my usual spotless self for Sunday service." The girl shrugged, producing a small notepad from the pocket of her blouse. "So what can I get you? The usual?"
"You bet!" Rachel grinned. "Oh, and let me introduce you to my…guest, Doctor Edward Masen. Edward, this is Angela Weber. I used to babysit her and her sister when they were younger."
Angela's eyes widened as she took in the stranger. "You're the new doc, aren't you?" she blurted out, her cheeks flushing scarlet almost immediately. "I'm sorry, I-"
"You're right," Edward interrupted her before she could continue her needless apology. "Rachel dragged me over here claiming you guys served the best French Toast on the Peninsula."
"In the world," Rachel gruffly corrected him.
"I take it you'll have a serving of those?" Angela asked, dutifully writing everything down on her notepad.
Edward nodded. "With a side order of bacon and some coffee, please." He hoped the caffeine would keep him active and responding throughout breakfast and alert enough to drive home safely.
Angela nodded, quickly jotting it all down before skipping off towards the kitchen, Rachel smiling widely as she watched her go. "If only her sister had turned out half as good as Angie did," she muttered, sighing wistfully as her smile turned slightly bitter. "I used to spend so much time with both of them back in the day and they were both such amazing girls, especially to a gangly looking teen who didn't really know the first thing about babysitting." Her smile widened again as her eyes got a faraway look. "They never fussed. Well, not apart from the usual bedtime stuff. We had so much fun together."
She chuckled, obviously remembering something, before she continued. "Jessica's not unlike Rosalie Cullen in a way; both scarred by stuff they had no control over." She paused as Edward smiled encouragingly, urging her to go on. "Jess and Angie's mom died from complications following Angela's birth, so it's always been the three of them…well, up until recently, when their dad – who's the town's Presbyterian Pastor, by the way – started dating again."
"So, the pastor's been back in the dating game?" Edward grinned, trying to picture the mental image that went with it. "I have a hard time picturing that, to be honest."
Rachel giggled. "It's not like he's going to single's bars or speed dating sessions or anything. He just met the right woman, at the right time, and they've been going out together."
"And let me guess: the oldest isn't really a fan of that?" Edward offered, mindful of the comparison to Rosalie Rachel had made earlier.
"Nope." Rachel sighed. "The whole thing has sent her in a tailspin of rebellion and there's been no living with her lately." Rachel sighed again, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she stared out in front of her. "You've met the lovely Jessica Weber, actually, as part of the group Rosalie hangs out with."
Edward's mouth curled down in disgust as it always tended to do when the little viper was mentioned; Rosalie Cullen being the last person in the world he wanted to think about when having breakfast with a very friendly and attractive woman. "You and Angela still seem to be friends, though."
"Oh, we are!" And just like that, Rachel's radiant smile was back again, making Edward silently congratulate himself for pulling her out of her gloominess. "She's always been amazing like that, and Angie and Maggie have grown quite close, I believe."
"Maggie?" Edward frowned. "As in Doctor Molina?"
Rachel nodded. "Didn't I tell you?"
"No." Edward almost choked on a gulp of searing hot coffee as the image of matronly Doctor Molina doing the nasty sprang to mind, though he did suppose that dating a reverend kind of suited her. "I don't think you did. I think I would have remembered."
"Oops! My bad," she giggled, her excitement taking on an almost dangerous form when Angela put their plates of food in front of them. "Taste!" she ordered, not waiting for him to dig in before she started on her own plate.
Edward had to admit that the food ranked among the best breakfasts he'd ever tasted and sharing the experience with Rachel, though tiring, only made it better. He really liked her, her high spirits and easygoing nature infecting him and making him feel lighter and less beaten down whenever he was around her. She was uncomplicated, intelligent and very easy on the eye. There was nothing about her to put him off…but still something held him back.
It was killing Edward and making him feel more frustrated with himself every time he tried to gently push her away before things could spiral out of hand. He wanted it and yet he didn't want it at the same time. Hell, if his dick seemed to be 'all systems go' then why couldn't the rest of him follow along? What the hell was wrong with him?
He knew the answer, of course, which only made matters worse.
"God, I'm so full!" Rachel groaned, patting her stomach as she sat back; the noise pulling Edward out of his mind. They laughed together at her complete frankness which only made her more endearing in Edward's eyes. Isabella will never do a thing like this. "And sleepy too. I wish I hadn't promised dad I'd take him to church."
"God, I'm glad Esme gave me the week off!" Edward groaned. "I don't think I could keep my eyes open for another twenty minutes, let alone for the duration of mass."
Rachel shrugged, grinning as she made sure there was not even the tiniest morsel of food remaining on her plate. "I've done it loads of times. I don't really need a lot of sleep to function."
"Still, even when you hardly need sleep, you've gotta be dead on your feet after the night we've had?" Edward insisted.
"Nah, it wasn't so bad." Rachel's grin turned mischievous as she peeked at him from beneath her long, black lashes. "And who are you to say, Doctor Masen? You've spent most of the night in the on-call room sleeping. We, however, aren't allowed to slack off on our night shifts."
Edward blushed guiltily, knowing she would probably be wholly unimpressed if he explained to her how the lumpy mattress and noisy next-door staff lounge had made sure he hardly got any sleep worth a damn that night. "I'd better get going," he shrugged, quickly changing the subject, "or I'm afraid I'll fall asleep at this table in a minute or so."
"I'm sure you'd look very sexy with your head stuck in a dirty plate," Rachel chuckled, Edward's breathing hitching as she swept up a drop of maple syrup with her finger and brought it to her mouth, the tip disappearing between her full lips. "I'd better be on my way as well. Dad hates it if we're late because all the good seats are gone."
Edward chuckled, already having learned from his sister how most attendees of Sunday mass preferred a spot in the middle, where they could inconspicuously keep stock of everyone coming in without seeming too forward or disinterested by sitting way up front or in the back. It was like a game of musical chairs, Esme had said, with the whole congregation scrambling for the best seats as soon as the doors were opened.
"So?" Rachel sat back, grinning lazily. "Was it worth the delay?"
"Definitely," Edward answered with a grin.
He settled the bill and joined her as they walked back to the hospital, his hand on the small of her back as they crossed the street side by side in a comfortable silence. It wasn't until they reached Rachel's old but, courtesy to her little brother, perfectly maintained truck that Edward broke the silence. "I noticed you weren't working on Thursday?" He waited for her to nod before he went on. "Do you want to go out on Wednesday night?"
"I'd love to!" Her eyes lit up, her teeth nervously nipping her bottom lip as she waited a few seconds, her cheeks pinking she gathered her courage before speaking. "I could do you one better though; how about I cook you dinner at my place?"
Edward knew the invitation for what it implied and, as much as the annoying little voice was still nagging at him from the dark and distant corners of his mind, having breakfast with Rachel had made up his mind: he was going to do it. Literally. He was going to go because he knew it the best thing he could do. Rachel was great and being with her easier than he'd ever felt around a woman. Yes, this was a good thing. He'd be a fool not to jump on it.
"Sure, that'll work," he therefore answered, his wolfish grin letting her know he understood what she was saying. "At least…as long as you can cook." He winked, making it clear he was only joking, as he held the car door open for her.
She playfully whacked him on the arm, feigning outrage. "My skills are legendary, thank you very much!" She winked back, leaning forward to softly kiss him on the cheek before she slid into the driver's seat, her laughter lingering behind long after she'd pulled the door shut and driven off.
He watched her go before he got into his own car – well, his rental. His back groaned as he rested it against the driver's seat, his body suddenly acutely aware again of the strain it had been under for the last twenty-four hours, his eyelids were way too heavy to keep from drooping as he slowly and carefully pulled out of the hospital parking lot, willing his body and mind to cooperate. It was a good thing the drive home was so short.
On his way past the church he noticed a few early arrivers already gathering near the doors, trying to catch the attention of the parish priest who, on further inspection, appeared to be locked in an animated discussion with none other than James – Aro – Harrison.
As if on autopilot, his eyes started to search for that other familiar face, scanning the crowd until he finally found her small form, clad in white and murky pink, standing off to the side, her eyes never leaving her uncle's frail form as she stood guard. Isabella.
It was as if the unspoken mention of her name had somehow registered with her, the eyes that had been trained elsewhere suddenly snapping towards him and meeting his for what could only have been the most fleeting of moments before a tree obscured her from his view. A moment was all it took, though, to rock his newfound confidence on its foundations and make his doubt jump back to the foreground again. Damn her!
He sighed, knowing in the state his mind was in, there would be no stopping it from doing whatever the hell it wanted to, which seemed to be thinking of her. The wrong 'her'.
He somehow managed to bypass the usual Sunday morning craziness on his way up to bed, his shoulders sagging with relief as he closed the door behind him and crossed the remaining gap between his bed and himself, shedding his clothes as he went until he crawled between the sheets in nothing but his boxer briefs.
Heaven.
He used the remote to turn on some music and closed his eyes, the soft background noise provided by the mellow, melancholy voice of Billy Holiday lulling him into the state he loved most; where you weren't quite asleep, but not completely awake either. It was almost the same feeling that drugs had given him; the sense that, no matter how fucked up his life may have been on the outside, on the inside of the bubble he'd created everything was fine. He still loved that state; the sense of drifting inside a warm, fuzzy cocoon that came with it, though rehab had taught him how to suppress the once dire urge to summon it by means of medication.
He wasn't allowed to linger in his state of bliss for long, though; an untimely and very annoying sound pulling him out of his nap before a full two hours had passed. He groaned, reaching blindly for the nightstand where the annoying sound emanated from, the display on his cell phone revealing a name he hadn't thought about for a couple of weeks, though he probably should have.
"Why didn't you call me?" The voice demanded as soon as he picked up. "I was beginning to fear you were lying under a bush somewhere, shooting heroine into your eyeballs!"
"Hey, Tan," he breathed, rubbing his eyes. His voice was still grainy with sleep as he spoke to her, making it sound like he'd been on a three day bender instead of one measly nightshift. He still had no stamina…
"Oh, fuck! You were sleeping," Tanya gasped and he could hear the sound of her bracelets tingling together as she clashed her hand over her mouth. "I should have known they'd have you running the graveyard shifts."
"S'okay," he mumbled, settling back against his pillows in a state of half-sleep. "So whadda ya want?"
"Just to catch up?" she replied. "It's been ages since we spoke. But of you want to get some rest I could call back later?"
"Now's as good as any time," Edward shrugged. It wasn't as if he was going to sleep anyway, not with the amount he'd already had coupled with the sounds of the outside world invading his self-created bubble. "So what's up?"
"Not that much," Tanya sighed. "Just work, Craig…the regular stuff."
Edward smiled. Knowing Craig, that regular stuff included all of the romantic 'candle lit shit' she loved and deserved, but, which he had never been able to give to her. Craig had always been the better man; the guy she should have shacked up with long before she finally decided to leave his sorry ass. God knew they went back almost as long as Tanya and Edward did.
"Any word on the ten-year?" He decided that to avoid the awkwardness that, regardless of the fact any regrets over the end of their marriage had long ago vanished, always seemed to ensue whenever Tanya discussed her current partner with him. He'd probably be much better off asking about work.
"Karlov gave it to Sandberg." There was some regret in her voice but not nearly as much as Edward would have expected. Hell, if it had been him, he would have been completely guttered. "He told me it was too soon, you know, after…"
"They held it against you?" He gasped for breath, already feeling the onset of a pounding headache and the glimmer of panicky sweat starting to break loose. It was all his fault. He'd lost the most precious thing in his life; they both had, and now Tanya's dream was crushed because of it – because of him – as well. "Fuck, Tanya. I'm so fucking sorry I-"
"Don't, Edward," she ordered him, her voice stern. "Don't you dare. You know as well as I do that it wasn't your fault, even if you're still too pigheaded to believe me. We both fucked up. I'm as much to blame as you are." She took a deep breath, slowly calming down again. "I've already got a great job lined up at this really good little private clinic anyway, so-"
This time it was Edward's turn to interrupt. "A little private clinic?" His voice betrayed every ounce of surprise and disappointment he felt. This isn't what she wants.
"Don't be so fucking snooty, you little rich bitch!" Tanya chuckled, picking up on his feelings perfectly even with the distance between them. "It's not like I'll be turning tricks or anything. Private practice is a perfectly respectable place to be as a doctor; preferable even to the madness of a big hospital, if you ask some of us."
"But it's private practice," Edward deadpanned, "and given the fact that you haven't even mentioned the name of it, probably a very obscure little private practice. You know that's not exactly what you had in mind when you graduated from Harvard Med School." He knew he was being every bit as snooty as Tanya had accused him of but to them, practicing medicine had always been about compassion and an urge to help as much as reaching the highest levels of skill, position and fame within their world. Why Tanya would completely step away from the latter after all the hard work and sacrifice she'd put into her career completely befuddled him.
"Things change, Edward," she sighed. "People change. Besides, the offer's very good, especially when I'm looking at the big picture."
He frowned, shifting under his sheets as he tried to place her answer. "Huh?"
"I dunno." He knew from the sound of her voice that, had they been face to face, she would have shrugged. Being as it was, he just had to imagine it. "I'm getting married again, Edward, and…I don't know. Maybe other things will follow…" It didn't escape his notice how she was trying to not hurt his feelings or cause him to panic by not naming the other stuff. Babies. New babies. Babies who aren't…Claire. "I don't want to miss out on life because I'm working all the time. If anything, Claire taught me that."
It was a long time before he could talk, the confused emotions swirling around in his brain not giving him pause to even contemplate words. In his confusion he wasn't even sure if the overpowering feeling he felt was anger, jealousy, grief or happiness, though perhaps the truth lay somewhere in the middle. All he knew was that when he did speak, his throat was thick and his voice strained. "Yeah, she was always good at teaching us stuff we never even thought about." Like the value of life and the pain caused by the loss of it.
"Anyway." His sigh rumbled through the line, making him realize she was in every bit as much pain as he was at that moment. They'd both lost her. The fact that she was better at moving on didn't mean she didn't feel. "I was just calling to make sure you were still on the wagon."
"I am," he confirmed. "Thank God, I am."
"Amen to that!" Tanya chuckled. "So how are things in redneck country?"
"Now who's being snooty?" he snorted. "Things are fine over here. It's not that bad, actually."
"I'll believe that when I see it!" Tanya replied skeptically. "Any interesting cases?"
He smiled, settling comfortable in his pillows. "How long have you got?"
It was almost an hour later that they hung up; Edward now fully awake and Tanya completely informed about his mysterious patient…well, as far as she could be informed while he still upheld the privacy of his patient. He trusted her, but still…he knew the temptation of a case as big and rare as this one was. He'd never mentioned any names and had been very careful to avoid any reference to James' very alluring companion but, what he had done was get the second opinion he so much needed.
And Tanya's vision had been as helpful as ever, even if it was just the confirmation that he was on the right track. He didn't broach the subject of his conflicted feelings for Isabella and Rachel with her, though. As much as he needed some advice, he felt it was still too early to discuss his present love life with his past. Besides, he was too afraid of what Tanya would say – or rather, how fiercely she was going to chew him out – to even start about it.
In spite of the fact that he was alert, he still managed to go back to sleep for a couple of hours, waking up in the middle of the afternoon from dreams filled with Claire, her laughter still ringing in his ears as he slowly came back to consciousness.
He missed her. So much.
As he lay awake, listening to the birds and the sound of children playing in the distance, he pondered some of the things Tanya had said. Was she making the right choice? Had she been right when she told him that their careers had gotten in the way of life?
He didn't think so. But then again, what kind of private life did he really have these days? He was divorced, a recovering drug addict and living with his sister while he tried to get his career back on track. It wasn't exactly the picture he'd of back when he was a kid.
If he would have been given a second chance, would he have done things differently?
Yeah. The answer came unexpectedly easy, which was something that completely unnerved him.
When Claire had come into their lives, Tanya and Edward had gone on living much the same life they had before she was born, apart from the fact that there was an addition to their lives that had to be taken into the equation. Sure, they'd both spent almost every bit of down time at home with the baby where they would have hung out with friends before, but their crazy workload and never-ending shifts remained. And like with him when he was just a kid, Carmen had taken the most prominent position in their little girl's day-to-day care.
He hated himself and, in part, his job for the little time it allowed him to spend with his precious little girl but there had been nothing he could do about it, shy of throwing his complete education to the wind. He was an intern; someone who was supposed to keep his mouth shut and his eyes open.
He thought he'd had the time to make it up to her, later, when he'd earned his stripes as well as a lighter workload. In reality, though, he'd been no better man than his father. And the thought sickened him.
If he could do it all over again he would have quit the program without as much as a second thought. Medicine was in his blood, that much was true, but Claire was his blood. His life. Without her nothing seemed as bright as it had appeared before.
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he realized the truth in Tanya's words, his grief only heightening with the realization that if only he wouldn't have taken shit for granted, she would have lived. He wouldn't have fallen asleep and she would have still been the very healthy, happy little girl she had always been.
It was all his fault.
The rain slowly ticked against the windows as the soft voice of Sam Cooke sang about changes and optimism but he was too far gone to believe in it. He couldn't even begin to think about getting to some point in his life where dealing with the loss of his baby girl would ever get any easier, no matter how often his shrink might have said it would.
No, he was doomed to forever wander the face of the world; soulless and lifeless and forever sighing under a monumental weight that even Atlas would have crumbled under. Maybe that was why he loved being around Rachel so much, because she made everything lighter; the weight a little less hard to bear.
He has to get out of his room. He felt that familiar sense of restlessness creep up on him almost the second he'd voiced the thought in his head, his legs swinging over the edge of the mattress seconds later as he already tried to remember where he'd left his running gear. A good workout will clear his head.
Stepping out onto the first floor landing he became acutely aware of the fact that while he'd been upstairs, the family had returned from church and, by the sounds of it, not in the spirit of love and forgiveness.
"I don't want to go!" he heard Rosalie shriek over the muffled sound of people stumbling around one floor below. "I already have plans."
"I thought you were grounded?" Jasper snickered, his voice a little closer than that of the others. He was recovering well, still forced to take it easy for a while longer, but no longer in bed or housebound.
"Screw you!" His sister bit back. "Or better yet, take a fucking shower. You smell disgusting!"
"Rosalie!" Carlisle's voice boomed, the sound strengthened as Jasper walked out of the living room and up the stairs, leaving the door open. The look of commiseration he flashed Edward on his way up made the older man chuckle.
"You okay?" Edward asked, seeing how the boy looked slightly frazzled.
"I'm fine," Jasper smirked, "though my head could have done without all of the yelling." He grinned before heading straight through to his room.
While he'd been talking to Jasper, he must have missed part of the conversation – or screaming match – going on downstairs because the argument had suddenly veered off in a different direction.
"None of this would have happened if I could have just kept living with mom!" Rosalie complained, trying to hurt her father where she thought it would hit the hardest.
"Then by all means, call her and ask her if you can live with her for a while," Carlisle countered, Edward detecting a slight undertone of exasperation beneath the calm of his voice. "Hell, I'll even let you use my phone."
Good. Edward smiled even though, from what his sister had told him, he gathered that Rosalie was in for a bitter disappointment. It's about time that little bitch is taken down a notch or two, though.
"Give it to me," Rosalie barked, the confident tone of her voice signaling that to her she was merely calling her dad's bluff. She really has no idea.
Edward chose that moment to make a stealthy escape through the front door; the moment between father and daughter seeming to him to be one that didn't need any eavesdroppers listening in on it. Judging by the muffled slamming of a door as he stood on the front porch doing his stretching and the desperate wail which sounded from behind Rosalie's slightly opened window not long after, little Miss Cullen had been quite unsuccessful in her plans to move back to sunny California.
Sunny California. Edward smirked; feeling small drops of rain fall on his skin as he hopped off the porch. He wouldn't really mind being there himself at the moment, what with all the rain and wind he'd been pounded with ever since he'd set foot on Washington soil. Forks really does live up to its name of being the most rainy, overcast town in the world.
Edward cringed as the girl's cries were soon drowned out by angry rap music as Rosalie cranked her stereo up to the max. This should get interesting.
He didn't stick around to find out what would happen next, though, his feet already bouncing with eagerness to be on their way.
Luckily his workout gave him everything he hoped it would: peace, time to think and a burning in his muscles that made him crash back on his bed the minute he got back to his room, only waking up after a second three-hour nap as the sun had already set behind the trees. He finally felt rested, though perhaps slightly gross given the fact that he was still in his sweaty gym clothes.
He stripped, showered and jacked off, relieving some of the pent up tension that wasn't curable by running, before getting dressed and heading downstairs in the hope that things had somewhat calmed down in the meantime.
The kitchen, at least, was empty, his hands working the now familiar coffeemaker before opening the fridge in search of some leftover food while his coffee was brewing.
"I left a plate for you on the third shelve." Esme's voice trailed off into a chuckle as she watched her brother jump with surprise.
"Thanks!" Edward replied, a little shakily. "You want some coffee?"
She nodded, indicating her head towards the living room. "Join me?"
He quickly popped his dinner in the microwave, scarfing half of it down on his way to the living room before joining his sister in front of the TV, pretending to watch whatever drivel was on while polishing off his plate of food.
"God, you eat like a pig," Esme growled, cranking up the volume. "If I didn't know you, I'd think you were raised in a barn."
"How's the family?" Edward countered, grinning at Esme's smirk. "What? You finally snapped and killed the little witch and now the guys are outside burying the body?"
"You never did want for imagination!" Esme chuckled. "Jasper's upstairs sleeping and Carlisle took Rose out to see a movie in Port Angeles. You know? A little father-daughter bonding time."
"And you didn't feel the urge to join them?" Edward snickered, arching his brow.
"Not in the slightest!" Esme giggled. "I've decided that the best spot for me to be is somewhere down by the sidelines. Besides, they need to get to know one another better. With me hanging around…things get a little more complicated."
"How was church?" he asked next, cautiously sipping his coffee.
"Good. Rachel was asking about you," she started, a small smile arching on the corners of her lips. "So was Isabella Harrison, by the way."
"Oh?" Edward tried to play it off as nothing significant even though inwardly it felt like anything but. "What did you say?"
"Nothing," she shrugged, her brows shooting upwards a little as she gave him her most skeptical look. "I'm your sister, Ned, not your pimp."
"Oh," Edward repeated himself, hating the heat that rose to his cheeks. "Right."
"What's going on, Ned?" Esme didn't seem to be as satisfied by his very meaningless reply as he'd hoped. "I thought you were going out with Rachel?"
"I was," he nodded, "I mean…I am."
"Then why do I have Isabella trying to ever so casually get the four-one-one on you?" Esme's brows arched upwards a little more, though besides her amusement at the flustered state she'd rendered her little brother to, there was also some concern as she tried to figure out what kind of mess he'd landed himself in this time. Because she was almost certain this situation was going to end up messy. After all, her brother had an uncanny knack for screwing up his life.
"I dunno, Es." Edward shrugged, his eyes shooting to the floor. "Maybe she just wanted to know a bit more about the new guy who's treating her uncle."
Esme's eyes narrowed, her ears picking up on the lie even if her eyes wouldn't have caught his very guilty behavior already. "That's not what it sounded like to me."
Again, Edward shrugged, trying to save his ass to the best of his abilities. "Then you should ask her but I think she'd tell you there's nothing going on. Just like I just did."
"That's bullshit, Ned!" Her voice rose an octave or two as she stared at him, letting him know she wasn't going to put up with some half-assed reply this time. "Now give me an explanation I might actually believe."
"It's just…I don't know, Es," he growled, his frustration bursting out as he slumped down on the couch. "I like Rachel and I really want to like her…you know? But when I'm with Isabella she's just so… Everything is just so…"
"She's a patient's relative, Edward." Esme interrupted him sternly. "Please, don't go there. Not after everything that's happened. It will ruin you."
"Fuck, I know, alright?" he snarled, his hands wedging in his hair. "I know all of that, even without you lecturing me or your husband breathing down my fucking neck." He sucked in a deep breath, trying to remain as calm as he could, given the circumstances. "And I'll tell you the same thing I told him: nothing happened, nothing's going on."
"I believe the former," Esme answered, keeping a close eye on her brother's reaction. "The latter… not so much."
For a moment the siblings just stared at each other; Edward silently communicating what he couldn't or didn't dare to put down into words as Esme slowly put the pieces of the puzzle back together.
"Jeez, Ned," she finally sighed, the leather covering the chair growling as she flopped back against the backrest. "What a fucking mess!" Her words weren't spoken in anger, her eyes sad as she silently sipped her coffee, her hands cradled protectively around the cup. She wished she could protect her brother like that; protect him from himself.
"What are you going to do?"
He shrugged, his lips curling into a bitter smile as he stared back at her from across the room.
"There's only one thing I can do, isn't there?"
The way he saw it, there really was only one rational thing to do: forget her. The problem was, though, that even though he hated to admit it, Edward was starting to find it harder and harder to actually see reason.
Thoughts?