I just wanted to let you all know that I wrote and rewrote, worked and reworked this bugger four or five times and I'm still not altogether happy with it. I'm uploading it now so that it's gone, out of my head, because I simply can't find what's wrong with it. Even though I know something is.
Later on down the track I'm sure it will come to me, or some detail will jump out at one of you amazing readers and you'll be able to tell me what I've missed. I'm sure.
All I can say is I think I've overlooked something. Something, a detail, a date or a place or a name, is missing. I'll leave it in your very capable hands.
Bella helped Ben pack Angela's things and was disappointed not to be able to see her friend again before she made the trip home. They'd talked just once on the phone since Angela had been admitted to the hospital, and they'd both promised to keep in touch, but Bella still felt a little sad to be at camp without her friend.
Angela was sure that she would recover with the love, support and encouragement of Ben and her family and Bella was as jealous as hell. Pleased for her friend, but jealous of her situation.
Everyone was sad to wave Ben off at the front gate. He was a nice guy and all the private guests counted him amongst their circle of friends now.
Still a little in shock that he'd missed what was going on for Angela, Ben was actually glad to be going home.
It was a wakeup call and Ben had finally heard the alarm.
Viewing the situation logically he could see, after the fact, that Angela wasn't all that much different from himself. Sure, she chose to work her body and mind into exhaustion and her addiction was a serious one even though it was unique, but their problems were similar.
They'd both been sent to camp for bad behaviour. Angela because she was easily influenced and had low self esteem that led her down the path of eating disorders and an addiction to working out. Ben because he took his natural sporting talent for granted and chose to party over practise, falling not too far outside the scope of becoming an addict himself. Alcohol and drugs had been his pleasure, unlike Angela's craving for the perfect body and perfect GPA to match.
Totally sober both mentally and physically Ben boarded the plane home with something in his heart that hadn't been there for a while. Hope.
He had hope that Angela would recover and want to be with him once she had. He had hope that he'd not done too much permanent damage to his body by drinking and taking illicit substances and he had hope that the mistakes he'd already made could be turned around.
They'd both come to Crossroads seeking something and even though Ben was worried and scared for Angela he was strangely thankful that things had come to a head as they had.
He'd missed the signs this time. He knew now to ask the right questions and he knew that Angela would tell him from now on if she was struggling. That had to be a positive. He wouldn't let her, or himself, down a second time.
Six weeks at Crossroads had been enough.
Angela understood better that she was sick and now had the resources on hand to recover.
Ben understood what he'd wasted and what he stood to gain if he worked hard in the right areas.
Bill and Maree sat in front of Ben and Angela on the flight. They didn't turn around to see but they assumed, correctly, that their daughter was happy in the arms of her love.
Another day of peace and quiet contentment was had at camp before the next disaster struck. But when it did it had repercussions that had a rippling effect like an earthquake.
Jessica, the girl who'd turned down Emmett's offer of friendship, barrelled into the administration building not an hour after Ben had taken his leave and announced that Lauren, her cabin mate, had disappeared in the middle of the night.
Rose, livid to have missed the signs of more trouble with the private guests – and feeling more than a little guilty for not taking quite as much interest in the two girls in cabin four as she should've – sat Jessica down in her office and tried to get the story straight before deciding what to do about her wayward guest.
Two things became obvious right away. Jessica was still the spoiled, opinionated snob she'd always been and Lauren Mallory was a manipulator extraordinaire.
Jessica was a local, born and raised in the northern suburbs of Melbourne. At twenty four she'd never done a thing. Never had a job, never strived for anything, and never needed anything because daddy picked up every tab she ran up.
Lauren had arrived a day late to camp and had been paired with Jessica only because Rose tried very hard not to have private guests in cabins on their own. Loneliness could induce depression and Rose knew that from personal experience.
Jessica had been at camp before. Three times in fact. Not because she was dealing with anything traumatic, but because she was a spoiled brat who treated the place like a resort. Her parents were loaded and it hadn't occurred to either of them that by handing Jessica everything she asked for the girl would never make her own way in the world.
That didn't matter to Rose. In fact Jessica was the perfect private guest to have if you could get past her whining and her total absorption in herself. Rose had never needed to spend too much time trying to work her or her problems out. Jessica didn't have problems. Not any problems that couldn't be solved with a credit card anyway. Jessica was bored and had no goals.
Lauren's stay at camp was a different matter altogether.
She'd come to camp from Canada and it was her first stay. Her paperwork was tidy, if somewhat lacking in information. But Rose was used to that too. She'd done her homework and had found out as much about Lauren as was possible to find legally.
Lauren Mallory was a twenty six year old socialite. She was famous, in a B grade sort of way, for simply being Lauren Mallory.
She'd graduated high school but hadn't attended anything higher. She'd never had a job or a place of her own. She'd lived on daddy's dime – or dollar as it was in Canada – and seemed quite happy to do so.
Her name had been linked to several male celebrities and Rose concluded early on in her research that Lauren was slightly famous in Canada for nothing other than who she was. A rich, spoiled daddy's girl who spent every night of the week in the places that would garner her the most attention possible. Nightclubs, red carpet events, charity balls and concerts. Anywhere that the press would be likely to be Lauren would attend for what looked like the thrill of having her photo appear in print.
Now, that wasn't a crime and at the time Rose had assumed that mummy and daddy had sent her to camp to live amongst the 'real people' with the hope that she'd think about settling down a little.
Now Rose thought differently as the picture began to become more clear.
Jessica and Lauren weren't dissimilar. Both had wealthy parents who indulged their daughters every whim. Neither had jobs or study or goals and neither had responsibilities other than to themselves.
But as Jessica talked and talked – and boy did she like the sound of her own voice when she considered herself a victim, thought Rose – the camp director started seeing the forest through the trees.
Lauren Mallory was a con artist.
Not content to suck up daddy's money Lauren had preyed on Jessica and had taken the younger woman for a considerable ride.
She'd spun the most amazing web of lies to get sympathy from Jessica. Her parents had recently been killed – drunk driver – and she was all alone in the world, so Lauren said. Her grandparents were wealthy but they'd hated her poor, innocent mother and were convinced her father had been tricked into marrying her. That hatred led to them cutting Lauren off now her parents were gone. She'd gone from staying at the Hilton to living out of dumpsters, the way she told it to a gullible Jessica.
For the past six weeks Lauren had spent night and day setting Jessica up for a monumental sting. She just needed enough money to get home to Canada and fight her grandparents in court for her rightful inheritance, so the story went. Once she had done that she'd return the money to Jessica, with interest, and the two new 'bestest friends' could travel and party together to their hearts content.
Jessica, for all her brashness and lack of tact, was a lonely girl at heart and Rose knew it. Liked only for her money and her social connections Jessica had swallowed Lauren's story hook, line and sinker because she was desperate for a friend. A real friend. And Lauren was an astute liar and had convinced the other girl that once her inheritance woes were sorted out the two of them would live the high life together.
As lovers a stunned and slightly disgusted Rose found out from a sobbing Jessica.
Rose wasn't a homophobe. Not in the slightest. So it wasn't the thought of two women being in love or loving one another that she found unpalatable. It was that it would be these two women. They were both simpering, whining bitches as far as Rose was concerned.
Now Lauren was gone, along with a sizeable chunk of Jessica's allowance, it seemed.
Lauren didn't need the money of course. It was the thrill of the chase for her, not the money that mattered. Rose knew that without being told. Lauren was as bored as Jessica was but she'd found something to keep the excitement alive for herself. Swindling other women.
Jessica could afford what she'd lost, probably a hundred times over, but Rose had to concede that wasn't the point.
Rose left a distraught Jessica in her office and contacted the local police. Lauren would be long gone, probably already in the air on her way back to Canada, but it would all need to be reported anyway. There was no proof that the money Lauren had on her persons was Jessica's, and even if that could be proven it would be one girl's word against the others as to why Lauren was in possession of it. Especially considering both girls were wealthy themselves. But Rose reported the whole mess anyway. What the police made of it was up to them.
At the end of a very frustrating interview with the local police sergeant Jessica went back to her cabin to pack still refusing to believe that she'd been swindled.
She was going home and had stunned Rose with the parting shot that 'daddy would never pay for her to stay at this resort ever again once he finds out how shitty you are at vetting your guests'.
Twenty-four hours after Ben and Angela's departure Jessica went home too. Lauren, as Rose had suspected, had arrived in Canada just a few hours before Jessica's daddy's driver arrived to collect her from camp.
Privately Rose hoped she never laid eyes on either girl ever again.
But she also felt the sting of failure, twice over, again.
The next disaster crept up a little more slowly than the Angela/Ben and Jessica/Lauren incidents, but it caught everyone by surprise just the same.
Rose slipped into a quiet depression of sorts because she felt she'd personally failed both Angela and Ben. Never one to take failure well she closed herself off and dealt with it the only way she knew how. She threw herself into her work.
She didn't feel quite as guilty or as frustrated at the Jessica and Lauren issue, but it still stung to know she'd let them both down. Jessica might never have needed the magic that Crossroads had worked with troubled guests but Rose still felt she'd owed it to the girl to pair her with someone who could at least have been trusted.
The other guests didn't take the news of the two girls early departures nearly as badly as they'd take Angela and Ben's. But after looking at how full her camp had been just a week prior, and seeing the empty spaces where four of her private guests names should've been on the booking sheet, Rosalie did.
She slipped further and further into despair as the days went along. Gone was the happy disposition and back was the demanding, workaholic she'd been before meeting Emmett. Her staff noticed this change as quickly as they noticed her softening one earlier. She was back to haunting the halls of the reception building looking for mistakes and errors from the staff. She barked out orders again and no misdemeanour was overlooked or passed without consequence.
Emmett noticed her changing too.
Gone were the quiet, relaxing evenings in her cabin. Sure, he still went there and he still spent the night in her bed, but Rose had changed. She wasn't Rose any longer, she'd reverted to Rosalie.
Three nights running she turned down his offer of dinner in town. Three days running she avoided joining him for lunch if he was at camp, and if he wasn't she didn't answer or return his calls.
For three days straight she didn't touch him or make love with him and Emmett was hurt and worried.
He did his best to understand, but he really didn't. They might feel something for one another that resembled love but at its heart he came to realise that they didn't really know each other that well. Not well enough for him to instinctually know what was eating at her. And it was obvious that something was.
He tried being subtle – as subtle as Emmett could be that is – but it was to no avail. Calm, quiet questions at the end of her day produced nothing but one word answers and left Emmett more confused than ever.
More probing questions were met with a little hostility as Rosalie asked him to keep his nose out of camp business.
On the fourth night Emmett decided to leave her to it and headed to town.
He still had no idea how he was going to raise the money for his course and he'd had no bites for the sale of the Bentley. He'd listed it on several websites and had taken an ad out in a local paper, but nothing.
He had just six days to pay the invoice or he couldn't start the course. He'd be allowed to start the next one, once he'd paid, but it didn't start for another three months and Emmett wasn't willing to wait that long now he'd made the decision.
He sat in the bar nursing his beer in silence. He'd given himself an allowance of just three drinks for the night and was determined to stick to it.
Recognising the truth in Rose' statement that he made bad choices while drunk he had been doing his best to lay off the grog. It was hard, though. He was used to a regular intake of alcohol and his body and brain weren't too pleased with him for cutting them off so succinctly. But he'd stuck to it, so far.
He'd had the odd drink in the previous few weeks, but never enough to get a buzz going. He knew enough about himself to know that if he felt the first stirrings of a booze buzz he wouldn't stop. So he never let himself get quite that far.
He also knew that if he socialised with the locals he'd be dragged into playing pool, or darts, or cards or any number of inane games that would inevitably pique his competitive nature he'd be drawn in to drink more to keep up with the 'rounds' inside whatever group he joined.
So he simply didn't partake.
He didn't like it. But he liked being sober just a tiny bit more than the consequences, so he didn't partake.
Rose had been so proud of him for it before. Before Ben and Angela left early she'd encouraged him a lot. But since then she said nothing and didn't seem to care whether he was tanked or not.
So, sitting at the bar nursing his one and only drink so far Emmett began to worry. Left to his own devices he started thinking about all the ways he could come up with the cash to kick-start his new life.
Of course the easiest solution was the sell the car. He'd done all he could to make that happen and so he left that idea alone.
He could gamble the small amount of cash he did have and try to turn it into a shitload more.
He could tap his sister.
Another thought that crossed his mind was a prize fight. If he could get someone to stump up the cash he could take on a local hooligan and maybe clean up, then take the winnings and gamble it on the horses or something to try and double it.
None of those scenarios were going to impress Rose he thought sadly as he tapped the bar for another beer.
For whatever reason nothing impressed Rose at the moment. Damned if he knew how to turn that around either.
Without any other ideas coming to mind Em decided he was better off away from temptation and downed that second drink fast. He declined an offer for a game of pool and made his way to the door instead.
The guy he'd fought a few weeks before, and lost to, approached him as he got close but Em managed to resist the offer for a do over. Em was a lover at heart, not a fighter, despite his size. Going back to camp with another black eye would probably see him kicked out and with nowhere to go Em wasn't interested in that.
Saying thanks but no thanks he stuck out his hand to his previous opponent and wished him a good night.
Now, his opponent had had a few and was in a jovial frame of mind. He meant to clap Emmett on the shoulder as they shook hands but his brain forgot to tell him that he still had a full glass of beer in his hand.
That beer ended up all over Emmett.
It had been an accident, Emmett knew that, and he accepted the profuse apologies of his opponent with good humour. Had he had more than just the two beers himself he probably would've settled it with his fists. But he hadn't had more than that so he left the pub and flagged down a taxi and did his best to wring out the malty mess from his shirt tails before he slid into the waiting car.
Still sopping wet and smelling like a brewery Emmett arrived back at camp looking like he used to. But his eyes were cast down now because he was worried, not drunk. He weaved a little on his feet because his shoes were full of beer, not because he was too drunk to coordinate one foot in front of the other.
When Rose opened the door to his knock she assumed, and her assumption was wrong. Dead wrong.
She took one look, and one sniff, and sighed.
Emmett noticed. "Hey," he said as he entered the cabin. He moved towards her, wanting and needing to kiss her hello just to reassure himself that she still wanted him there with her. But Rose turned her head at the last second and Em was hurt and rejected at the snub.
He moved into the living room a little further and then turned to face where she still stood at the door. "Sorry I smell bad," he shrugged as he pulled the tails of his shirt from his jeans.
Rose didn't reply, she simply closed the door of the cabin and moved into the kitchenette.
Despondent at her welcome, or lack of welcome, Em tried opening the lines of communication again. "Good night?" he asked hopefully as he slipped his shoes off then rolled his socks into a ball and shoved them into the toes of the shoes.
After a few seconds of silence that were only punctuated with the odd clank from Rose putting things in the dishwasher Em announced he'd shower and left the room. He had no idea how to reach her or what her sigh when he'd arrived meant. Something was obviously bothering her but if she didn't want to talk to him about it there was nothing else he could do.
While Em was in the shower Rose threw his sloshy shoes out the front door and poured herself a glass of water. She was disappointed that he'd gone out drinking and furious that he'd come back to her in the state he was in.
She wasn't ready to bare her soul to him but she had been ready to maybe, possibly, start to fill him on why she was in such a bad way. She didn't think she could admit to all of it, but enough to maybe get the two of them back onto a better track. By the time he left to go wherever it was he had decided to spend his time she'd settled down a little after a pep talk from Tyler and accepting a very large corporate booking that would see her pay off her recent unexpected expenses and restore the funds in her private account, with a little extra on top.
In fact, the new booking was large enough, and she felt sufficiently guilty at having left Em out of her thoughts and feelings for the few days prior, that she'd decided to help the big lug herself.
She knew he was fretting about the cost of the course he'd enrolled in, and she could've just written the cheque for the car that first day he'd returned with the invoice, but she wanted him to either come to her for help or sort it out for himself. Rose understood the value of self sufficiency.
It was why she'd been trying to sort herself out on her own the past few days. She wanted to be able to go to him and tell him she'd solved her problems rather than cry on his shoulder that she couldn't. She wanted him to be as proud of her as she was of him. or as she had been.
But he hadn't come to her for either help or advice about it and by then she'd gotten herself in a state about Ben and Angela and the moment had passed them by. Then the Jessica issue surfaced and Rose sank lower while Emmett got more and more confused and frustrated as he tried to work out what her problem was.
But today she'd decided that she'd been pretty horrid to Em by excluding him and wanted to be the one to help him. The cheque was on the coffee table in the living room and she was sure, or had been sure, that he'd refuse at first, sulk maybe a little, then accept and they could get back on track.
But then he'd turned up drunk and the better mood she'd worked herself into faded and now she was seeing red.
When the water turned off in the bathroom she scooped up the cheque and turned it over and over in her fingers for a few minutes as she stared at all the zeros on it. She'd checked online what the car was worth and it was a fair bit more than he'd guessed at. The book value of the car had appreciated as it got older, just like hers had, because they were both classic cars and very sought after.
Em had just over four weeks paid up at camp and after that he'd be looking for somewhere to live, as well as needing to pay for his course. And so Rose wrote out the check for exactly what Redbook said it was worth on the open market. He could pay for his course and even though the idea that he'd leave camp and stay somewhere else made her stomach clench and her heart ache, she knew it would be enough cash to get him the head start he was looking for.
Pissed at him for drinking so much or not it was the right thing to do she thought as she folded the cheque in half and sat on the sofa to wait for him to appear from the bathroom.
Em had used his time in the shower to go over what it was he thought needed to be said between them. Her silence as he'd arrived had hurt and he had figured out that her sigh at his state wasn't good. She thought he was drunk or well on his way at least.
He'd explain all that and she'd accept that she was wrong and that he wasn't drunk. That was the easy part, so Emmett thought.
What was trickier was whatever gloom was eating at her. And something obviously was.
If they were going to make a go of – well, whatever it was they had going on between them Em thought to himself – if they were going to make that work she had to open up and talk to him. He was going to insist on it. He hated seeing her unhappy, or upset, and as a pretty happy go lucky guy himself he thought he might be pretty good at breaking her out of her funk.
Yep. Em was decided on what he was going to say as he slid on some clean jeans and a t-shirt.
He kissed the top of her blonde head as he moved behind the sofa where she sat and then joined her in the living room, and took a perch opposite on the coffee table. She rolled her eyes as he sat but said nothing.
"Okay Blondie," he began with the nickname he thought she secretly loved. The twitch of her eyebrow told him that maybe she didn't and it made him internally cringe. All his rehearsed, well intentioned conversation starters went right out the window as he looked at her. Her posture was stiff, her features set in a harsh grimace. He'd blown it.
For whatever reason – and there were heaps he knew – he'd blown his chance with her. It was written all over her face. The drinking, the partying, the idiotic games. Blowing shit up, destroying her camp and her car. He'd blown it. Fuck.
Mentally kicking himself for thinking he had a shot at something with a woman like her Em did his best to keep the panic from his voice as he began to speak. "I don't know what's changed between us, but something has. I get it though. Don't sweat it. I get it. You've woken up and seen the real me. I get it," he mumbled as he stood and raked a nervous hand through his hair and turned away so she wouldn't see how much the perceived rejection stung.
Rose panicked herself then. She too stood but she didn't reach for him, which in hindsight would've changed the direction the whole situation eventually took. But she didn't know that a simple touch for comfort could've headed off the shitstorm that was brewing between them.
Instead she panicked. She didn't want to lose him and she had no idea what he was on about, about her having seen the real him. She knew him. Well enough, she thought, to know he was who she wanted. She didn't get what he was trying to explain and so she did something stupid.
She held out the cheque and pushed her arm around him and held it in the palm of her hand for him to see.
It was a mistake.
She should've asked him to explain a bit better. She should've touched him or said something. Anything. Instead she panicked and thought that she could relieve what she thought to be the biggest of his worries first and that they could sort out all the rest once that worry was over.
It was a mistake. A big one.
Emmett looked down at the paper in her hand and gritted his teeth. "What is that?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
Rose withdrew her hand hoping he'd turn around and face her so she could tell him of her brilliant idea. But he didn't. He kept his back to her and she was forced to try to explain without the benefit of being able to gauge his emotional state. Another mistake she'd learn later.
"I'm going to buy your car," she told him simply. Had she gone into more detail he would've understood that it wasn't pity or a hand out. But she didn't and he did.
"I don't want your fucking charity," he hissed and made to go for the door.
"It's not charity," she growled in a rush, frustrated. "God Em, it's not pity. I want to help you."
But Em wasn't listening anymore. He had the door open and he was through it before she finished speaking.
Rose panicked further as she watched him bend to collect his shoes. "Wait," she called as she went outside too. Luckily he was sitting in a chair and trying to slide his wet shoes on she thought, she'd have time to explain better. "Wait," she begged as she stood by him under the awning. "It's not charity. I thought I'd buy the Mulsanne from you and you could use the cash to pay for your course. It's just a temporary sale anyway," she continued when he made no comment. "You need the money and I need a car until mines fixed so I thought I could help you out. You take this now and pay for your course and sort yourself out and when you're earning you can pay me back and when it's all paid back the car will revert to being yours. I just want to help," she gushed, the words rushing together at the end.
"I don't want your money," he spat from between his clenched teeth as he finished tying his shoes and stood. "You know what? I sat in the pub tonight trying to work out how the fuck I'm going to pay for the course. I had two drinks Blondie, two. That's it. A guy spilled is drink on me as I was leaving, that's why I was in the state I was in. I didn't drink myself into oblivion even though I would've a week or two ago. I wanted more, I wanted to wipe myself out and forget my troubles, but I didn't. I tried to think about how you'd feel if I came back here tanked. I went over everything you've said to me and I agree that I make bad choices when I'm drunk, so I stopped. I reminded myself that you were waiting here for me and that you'd be disappointed in me because you cared about me. I ran over in my head how great it feels to be with you, how lonely I've been all these years and how I didn't really understand that until I met you. I thought I'd finally found someone I could be true with. The real me. Stupid, childish, irresponsible Emmett McCarty thought he'd found someone who just might see past all the bullshit. I tried to remind myself that I wanted things now, I had a direction and a plan and that even though I had no fucking clue how to pay for any of those plans I had you to talk to about it. But I don't really, do I? You don't want to talk to me. You want to fuck and you want to fight. I'm good with one, not so much the other."
Rose stood stock still and just stared at him. He hadn't been out drinking to excess. He'd stopped at two because of her, oh sure it was for himself too, but something she'd said in the last few weeks had gotten through to him and he'd stopped. A lifetime of not listening to anyone and he'd listened to her. It made her heart both ache and swell.
But he was walking away from her now and he was angry. Really angry.
"Wait," she called as she blinked hard against the security lighting on the path. She ran to catch him up and put her hand on his forearm. She flinched when he ripped his arm out from under hers. "Wait, please," she begged. "I'm sorry. I assumed you'd written yourself off and I'm sorry. I had no right to assume." She gave him no chance to respond or to even accept the apology; she just carried on so he'd be forced to listen. "I offered you the money because I want to help. I want you to be able to see your plans through and I knew you were worried about how to raise the cash. I want to help. That's all. It's not charity. It's not pity. Its business, if you want to look at it that way. I'll even charge you interest if you want to forget the car and just borrow the money."
"I don't want your fucking money," he spat at her feet. He stared at her long and hard for a second and replayed her words in his head. He'd laid his heart on the line just now. He'd basically just told her how important she was to him, that she'd changed his whole outlook, hell she'd changed his whole life. And she'd ignored that part of the rant. She'd run with the money. It was just business for her. Her precious camp and her ability to help people was all she cared about. He was a statistic to her and nothing more. She needed a car because he'd wrecked hers and he had one going begging for the right price. He was just business to her. "You know what; this is pretty simple as I see it. I want you," he stated simply. "I want this. You and me. Course or no course. Money or not. Business or pleasure. I want you, Blondie. But I guess that's pretty one sided seeing as you won't share a goddamned thing with me other than money."
He was striding down the path back towards the other cabins before Rose had even taken in all of what he'd said. She called out for him twice more, cringing as lights came on under awnings all along the row of private guests cabins, but he didn't turn, falter or change his stride the whole time.
She knew without being told that there was nothing she could do right now. He was angry and hurt and she'd gone about the whole thing the wrong way and she knew it.
He needed time to cool down and then they'd talk some more.
Squaring her shoulders she went back into her own cabin, threw the cheque onto the counter in the kitchen and then threw herself onto her bed and cried.
Emmett was met under the awning of his own cabin by his two bleary eyed, obviously concerned, friends. "Don't fucking ask," he growled at them as he sat himself down in a chair and began to remove his foul smelling shoes again.
"Alright," Bella whispered carefully as she looked to Edward who was shrugging his shoulders. Neither of them knew what had happened, or what to do now. "I think I'll head back to my cabin," she told a disappointed but understanding Edward. She waits for him to lean down and then she kisses him softly at the corner of his mouth before making plans to see each other at breakfast the next morning.
"You want a beer?" Edward asks after Bella's safely back in her own cabin and the lights have gone out again.
"Yeah," Em sighs, leaning back in his chair. "No reason not to have one now, I guess."
Not understanding that but recognising he probably wasn't meant to Edward goes inside to retrieve said beers. He grabs a bag of peanuts too and takes the stash back outside along with his cigarettes and lighter. He lights one, hands it to Emmett, then lights one for himself as he too leans back in his chair.
The silence stretches between the two men in the quiet calm of the night. Each sip from their cans but it's obvious that neither of them are all that interested in the alcohol.
Eventually Edward broke the very cool ice. "Where you been?" he asked.
It took a minute or so but Em decided he had nothing to hide and everything to gain by spilling his guts. So he did. All of it. He told his friend everything. About his father and the pressure. About his mother and her lack of defense. About his sister and how he had been measured against her his whole life. He told his friend about his educational career and how and why he hated it and threw it all away and had been sent to camp because of it. He explained how he'd fallen for Rose. Hook, line and little dark green damaged sports car he'd fallen in love with the camp director. Who wasn't really the camp director but the owner – which came as no surprise to Edward who did his best to act surprised – and then Em told his friend about the course and the interview, the invoice and the cheque.
At the end Edward was impressed.
Maybe a strange reaction but impressed none the less. He took another slug of his beer and then leaned forward in his seat and rested his elbows on the table between them.
"You got balls," he chuckled at a confused Emmett. "You did it," he said softly but the words were caught, if not understood, by Emmett. "You just did exactly what I've wanted to do my whole fucking life. You did it," Edward said with real awe.
"How many you had?" Em asked with a nod towards Edward's beer.
"First one in a week," Edward replied truthfully. "You probably think I'm nuts but I'm not. And I mean what I say. You've just done what I want to do. You stood up to your dad, you walked away from everything that you didn't want and you're moving forward. Okay, so things are in shit order right now, and Rose sounds pretty pissed and probably pretty hurt, but you did it," he told a now stunned Emmett.
And then Edward spilled his guts. Just like Emmett had done. He began with the tale of his horrid, lonely, affection starved childhood and then moved through his awful time at school and college. He didn't leave anything out when it came to the shady business deals he'd only just figured out – with Bella's brother in laws help no less – and then he told his friend that he too had fallen head over heels in love with a woman who for all intents and purposes was still engaged to a lying, conniving piece of shit politician back home.
When his tale was done Edward downed the rest of his drink and waited for a reply. A reaction. Anything. But Emmett just stared at his friend. He wasn't able to respond because he had no idea what to say. They were so different but by Christ they were also really similar. Same shitty situation. Same shitty prospects to make it better. Same shitty love troubles, without the engagement ring issue obviously. But what struck Emmett was how simple his own problems now seemed compared to Edward's.
And with a little guilt and a good dose of shame Emmett began to feel better.
He'd told his family once and for all that he wasn't going to be a doctor. He'd told his father exactly what he needed to tell him. He'd taken the first steps towards doing something with his life that was going to give him some sense of self satisfaction and if he left aside his love troubles he came to realise that he was situated far better than Edward was.
Emmett didn't have the legal issues his friend had looming and that seemed to take some of the pressure off his shoulders. He felt guilty for that but he also knew that Edward was a lot stronger than he looked and that he too would sort his shit out.
"We're fucked," he said eventually but even as Edward began to nod in agreement Emmett came to realise that he actually really wasn't all that fucked at all. Edward was, but he wasn't.
And just then Emmett knew what he was going to do.
He too drained the last of his beer and as he put the empty can back onto the table he stood and slipped his feet back into his wet shoes. "I'll be back so don't lock up," he announced and headed back up the path to Rose' cabin.
Edward watched him go and wondered what the hell had just happened.
He'd watched the sympathy and empathy flit across his friends face as he'd told his own version of life and then he'd watched his friends face flush with ...with what he didn't know. He'd just seen Emmett's whole body shake and then this determined look come across his face.
Ed didn't know what he'd expected, but to be left sitting at the little table under the awning hadn't really been it. Maybe he'd expected some type of revelation? Maybe a clue how to fix the problems they shared? Maybe some advice...even bad advice would've been okay at that point.
Instead he'd gotten a 'we're fucked' from his friend then he'd upped and left. Sure, it was obvious he meant to return, which in itself was telling because Em hadn't used the cabin in weeks now.
So Ed decided he'd go for another beer and sit and wait for his friend to return. He was disappointed that Bella had gone back to her own cabin and he knew he'd miss her body beside his in bed that night, but he wanted the chance to work out what was going on for his friend too. So Ed sat under the awning and languidly nursed another beer.
Bella too was disappointed not to have Edward's warmth beside her in bed. She'd grown accustomed to it so fast and missed it now it was gone.
She knew it wouldn't be forever, that whatever was on Emmett's mind as he'd come to his own cabin that night wouldn't keep Edward from her forever, but still she was disappointed to be alone in her bed.
She wasn't sleepy, not after having to cut her evening short, so she laid there in her bed and stared at the ceiling thinking about everything that had changed for her, and her new friends, in such a short time.
Angela was already home, Ben too. Their stay at camp had been cut short by near tragedy but ironically Bella couldn't feel too bad about that. Yes, Angela was ill, but she was right where she should be and if it wasn't for having come to camp she'd never have met and fallen in love with Ben.
Bella could never feel bad about that. Angela had confessed it weeks ago and Bella knew it to be true for herself. Ange fell in love with Ben just like she'd fallen in love with Edward. It was pretty simple.
She was also pretty sure – or maybe she was fairly sure – that Emmett had fallen in love with Rose. Not having had much to do with Rose other than at camp activities she wasn't sure how Rose felt, but of Emmett, Bella was almost certain.
It would be a shame if that all fell apart she thought as she tucked her feet into the blankets further. Emmett had seemed happy for the past few weeks. He wasn't drinking as much and bounced around with a grin as wide as his face would allow.
He hadn't been smiling when he'd come to the cabin earlier and Bella worried that he and Rose had come to a screaming halt.
Rose screaming for Em to 'wait' as he'd trodden down the path sort of lent itself to that scenario and Bella felt sad for that.
Edward would help him though. She knew that. He'd do whatever his friend needed him to do. It's who and what Edward was. He was a great friend and loyal to boot.
As good a friend as Edward thought and wanted to be he could do nothing other than wait for Emmett to return. And so he sat and nursed his beer and waited. And waited.
At last he heard a door close – not slam which he thought was probably a good thing, and hopefully meant there was hope for Em and Rose – and then the footfalls of his friend returning.
Em appeared under the awning and swiped Edward's still half full beer off the table. He took a slug and then put it back in front of his friend. "You're a good guy Ed," Emmett said simply, and cryptically Edward thought. "And if you want my advice you'll tell Bella you love her, go home and sort your shit out, and get on with the life you want."
Edward had been thinking the same for weeks but said nothing out loud as his friend slipped his shoes off for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. "Alright," he said quietly, hoping it would spark some more conversation.
Em stood with the front door in his grip. "I hope you do, Ed," he said and really meant it. "I've just figured out how I'm gonna do it for myself so you gotta do that too. Good luck, buddy," he said as he went inside.
Of course Bella, and Edward himself, couldn't know that come morning their friend Emmett would already be gone.
A/N: Thank you for reading. And if you've spotted the error, or the omission, please let me know. It's going to bother me for ages ;)
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