Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all.
Rated M for several reasons.
Chapter 35 Edward's Girl
BPOV
I don't like Mondays, at least not when they start with a crash because Mr Independent (But Inept with Crutches) has tried to get himself to the bathroom. After I'd cleaned up the mess and delivered him safely, but somewhat desperate, to the bathroom I punished him by making eggs for breakfast. And while he choked them down I set my laptop on the kitchen counter and ventured back into the world of work . . . .
"Earth to Bella." Edward calls across from the couch.
"Hmm?"
"You've been hammering away on that thing, and occasionally cursing it out for an hour, is everything okay?"
"Oh yes, sorry. Alles in ordnung."
"You speak German?"
"Kind of but Klaus says I have a horrible accent."
"Sounded good to me. What does it mean?"
"The situation is normal at Cask. Felix has everything under control and is Fedexing me the stuff I need for the week. Lauren is on her way to my apartment so she can Fedex me some clothes. And AT is having a shit fit because I'm here and not at my desk."
"Bella . . . ."
"Don't sweat it Edward, there's nothing I can't do from here this week, he's just flexing his jerk muscle."
He's silent for a moment flicking the TV channels and I stop what I'm doing to watch him fondly.
"I don't want to get you in trouble." He offers finally, twisting to face me.
"You aren't. I can handle AT, he's all mouth and trousers."
He nods and returns his attention the TV, so I go back to my emails and phone calls.
...
Moira drives Demetri and me into town in her massive truck.
Its a beautiful place but clearly very upscale, filled with boutiques, niche stores and shiny well dressed people.
Moira however knows her way round and we cut a swathe through the milling rich folk as she ushers us to our first store.
An honest to goodness bell jangles merrily as we push our way inside and out of the cold.
A woman, as small and lean as Moira is tall and round, emerges from behind a counter display of hand warmers laying aside a paperback.
"Morning Chettie, this is Bella Swan, Edward's girl, and her friend Demetri, they need boots and coats before they freeze to death."
Chettie sizes us up and then breaks into a beaming smile.
"How is my favourite customer?" She asks me.
"Unable to follow simple medical instructions without supervision?" I query, assuming she is talking about Edward.
Moira laughs.
"Chettie's husband was William's partner back in the day." She explains. "And we've both had to deal with an inconveniently immobilised veterinarian, so if you want advice we're your girls."
"Skillet." Chettie says with a wink. "Applied gently but briskly to the back of the head while he's busy complaining about the human medical profession, works every time."
"Um?"
"I'm joking Bella, come on, let me find you both some more appropriate clothing for horse country in winter . . . ."
Suited and booted we take our leave. These boots, Ariat, may have been expensive but I sense already that I could live in them forever, and ever, and ever . . . .
...
Next stop groceries.
Unlike Chettie's this store is full, of both women and the sense that they've been waiting for us ever since Moira parked her truck.
"Morning all." Moira announces into the expectant silence. "This is Bella. Edward's girl, down from New York to take care of him."
"Whoa!" I exhale as they surge forward excitedly, all talking at once.
"Stand firm." Demetri chuckles from behind me as we're engulfed . . . .
...
"Sorry about that." Moira laughs when we finally escape back to the street. "You're a celebrity and Edward's really popular around here, but they're a nice crowd and now they've got it out of their systems they won't bother you with anything else except genuine friendliness.
This next lot though, count your fingers after if they shake your hand."
"Um?"
"This is The Diner." She says as we stop outside our destination. "Anyone who is anyone, or thinks they are in these parts, comes here on Monday morning for the coffee, the breakfast and the gossip. I usually avoid it like the plague but sometimes its better to beard the lion in his den.
And they also make Edward's favourite sub."
Demetri and I exchange looks as she ushers us inside . . . .
...
After that interesting experience Moira shows us the rest of the town, including Doc Harris's office and William's. You can tell we're in horse country as William's establishment is at least ten times the size of the Doctor's. When I've assured Edward's colleagues that he's well and up for visitors we return to the grocery store to collect my giant order of TV dinners and the like before heading back to the barn.
...
Edward is pathetically pleased to see us when we return and falls on his favourite sub like the starving man he probably is by this point.
We spend an hour filling him in on our trip and then Moira drags Demetri off to see her prize winning Rhode Island Reds.
Edward's first visitor arrives at two and after that there's a steady stream of interlopers, strangely enough nearly every one of them a female under the age of thirty five. I don't have time to let it bother me since Cask, like any child, seems to know when my attention is elsewhere and acts out accordingly. Instead I spend the afternoon chastising, cajoling, cursing and choking back my Edward induced laughter.
Suaveward is in the house. No wonder some of the women are repeat offenders, he's so charming when he rejects their advances that even though he keeps referring to me as 'love' I doubt they'll remember it. They will however remember me showing them out, I make sure of that even if I'm mid conference call, much to Edward's amusement.
Finally my colleagues are mollified and despatched into the New York night and I can collapse on the couch, burying my head in his chest.
"Rough day?"
"Yeah." I sigh, snuggling into his embrace.
"You know." He chuckles. "You might be able to save yourself some trouble tomorrow by peeing on the newel post after breakfast or something."
"Ego." I warn as I slap his nice firm abs, albeit gently.
"I can't help it if they want something they can't have."
Jesus, hello nice warm fuzzy feeling accompanied by a tinge of annoyance.
"You could try being a little less suave." I huff before I can stop myself.
Silence. Though his arms tighten around me.
"I hate it when you call me that." He says eventually.
"Its who you are."
Silence.
"Do you . . . . do you need me to change?"
I heave up myself up to look at him, his Father's Son.
God he's handsome. And god how I love him.
"I . . . ."
"Bella, I want to be whatever you need me to be, if you need me to change. I will."
Carlisle is the world's worst flirt but Esme is never fazed by it. Because she knows he loves her. Only her. We all know it.
Edward is Son of Flirt.
But we don't know much else.
Or do we?
I feel loved. He makes me feel loved.
But am I?
His intense green eyes say yes.
But my sense of self preservation, without the words, though they are just words, isn't convinced.
Not that it makes any difference. I'll love him anyway.
I must be frowning because his finger reaches out to smooth the 'v' between my eyebrows.
"Bella? I . . . ."
"Eddie? You decent?" A deep male voice booms from the stairwell. "I come bearing gifts. Beer and dirty magazines mostly though Jane's loaded me up with some candy she says you like . . . ."
Edward and I break apart as his colleague Sam appears at the top of the stairs.
...
I scorch them a pizza and check my messages.
Rose has sent me links to myriad gossip sites which are making much of my leaving New York to be at 'Super Vet's' side. Em has sent me a link to a YouTube video that will 'help' me make love to my man while he's incapacitated. Esme has optimistically sent me the recipe for one of Edward's favourite meals. Alice has sent me a link to a site dedicated to 'styling up' your plaster cast. And Char has sent me a link to an interview in which AT all but accuses me of resigning from Cask. Which explains the voicemails from Chairman of companies that would like to hire me.
Jesus my head is going to explode . . . .
"Love? Come and have a drink, relax . . . ."
"You shouldn't be drinking on your meds." I point out as I slip into the armchair and accept a beer from Sam.
"Pfft." Sam snorts in amusement. "He'll live. Medical Doctors are such old ladies. Now, tell me what it's like to be on Bloomberg, do they really let you vet the questions first . . . ."
...
Getting a sleeping drunk with a broken leg into bed is no easy task, even with six foot five of Sam's laughing help.
"If he pukes you're cleaning it up." I growl, giving him a playful shove as I pull the covers over Edward's supine form.
"No worries. I'll be on the couch."
I like Sam, the evening flew by as if I already knew him and it's obvious he and Edward are good friends.
Having changed in the bathroom I perform the 'tamping down the fire in the cold' dance to the sound of Edward and Sam's snoring before hustling myself into the bed. The sheets are cold and I gravitate toward Edward who accepts me easily into his arms, even in his sleep . . . .
...
Sam's gone when I wake up but Edward is still dead to the world, I know this because when I didn't get sleep molested by his cast I prodded him a couple of times to check.
Effectively alone in the barn I make coffee and breakfast before curling up on the sofa to divide my attention between the snow falling outside and the morning news. I'm so calm and relaxed I hardly recognise myself. I have a big decision to act on but it doesn't feel so difficult or immediate this morning. And I should be firing up my laptop and getting to work since its gone seven but what I'd really like to do is don my new gear and explore the land around the barn and the implications of what I'm about to do . . . .
...
God I love these boots, my feet are so toasty I feel like I could tramp this snow forever . . . .
I'm going to quit.
There's really nothing stopping me except me. We Swans are by nature hard working people and careful of the money we scrape together. But I need to put that aside. I have now, right this second, enough money to take care of me and mine in the Swan style for many generations. I don't need to feel guilty or nervous about not having a job.
What I do need is something to do, I just can't imagine myself with nothing. I'd go bat shit crazy in a heartbeat. Maybe I should hold off until I know what I'm going to do? But I've got six months notice to work it out, unused as I am to making a decision like this surely even I can manage one is six months?
And its not like I have decide on anything truly terrifying right away. I don't want to live out my days in New York but that's not the only place Mom and Dad can be cared for. And I guess I have plenty of time to decide, quitting Cask isn't actually going to result in me being tarred, feathered, and drummed out of town.
I want a place in the country, where I can see green when I look out of my window, where I'm not surrounded by strangers as soon as I set foot out of my door. I think I'd quite like a dog, although I've never had one before. Maybe I should start with a cat. Or a hamster. Or a fish, I'm pretty sure even I couldn't kill a fish by accident.
As a northern hemisphere girl I can't see myself anywhere hot and glancing around I can't help but smile.
Somewhere like this would be perfect. Across the gently undulating landscape I can see Moira and William's place in the distance and behind me Edward's barn is obscured by trees and fog. Its all beautiful, even blanketed in snow.
Okay, getting ahead of yourself Bella.
Quit first and take the rest one step at a time . . . .
...
Moira's big truck is outside when I get back but the happy greeting dies on my lips when a furious Demetri looms in front of me.
"Jesus Christ Bella! I've told you and told you not to go wandering off on your own, it isn't safe!"
"She's safe enough round here Demetri." Moira placates from somewhere behind him.
"No. She isn't. Not with Trevisano on the loose. And she knows better!"
"Demetri." I hiss. "Edward doesn't . . . ."
"Bella." Edward interrupts, appearing on his crutches, brows furrowed together. "Isn't Trevisano the guy that attacked you last year?"
A/N If you are still waiting for a happy ever after for 'Blue Hour' Edward, Moosals has written a beautiful one called Birds Flying High, please go check it out and leave her some love!