Let the Rain Come Down

You'll be happy to know that the next chapter is finished and will follow in a few days' time.

I hope it makes up in some small way for the delay and the lack of a Valentines Day update that many of you requested.

Thank you as always for the lovely reviews and messages.

Disclaimer: All characters owned and created by Stephenie Meyer.

This chapter is unbeta'ed – any errors are mine and I apologise in advance.

~o.O.o~

Chapter 13

Jasper's POV

We had one last day to spend together before I started my new job.

I needed a little distraction from the nerves that were starting to bite in the depths of my stomach, and a day together was the best way I could keep them under control.

With the promise of an additional modest income forthcoming, we decided to celebrate and buy some hot food as a special treat.

But first, a haircut. I wanted to make a good first impression, but deep down I wanted to be the best I could be. My insecurities and fears would be accompanying me, no matter what, but I couldn't bear to have my new co-workers take one look and write me off as a no hoper. I couldn't tell Edward that. He knew I was jittery, but he would not tolerate my self-pity when his belief in me was rock solid.

The morning was bright and breath-stealing, the watery winter sun offering no warmth. We took our time, walking and talking, wandering the streets until we found the Hair Academy listed on the flyer from the laundromat. We had gone over it together, double checking times and dates before setting out that morning; we didn't want to make the long walk only to be turned away. We had no phone credit and so weren't able to call ahead first, relying on hope and luck that they could use us. It struck me that they most likely saw a lot of volunteers down on their luck unless some working people objected to paying when they could afford to. We looked at each for support before pushing open the door and stepping inside. A suited receptionist in teetering heels greeted us with a polite smile, and we showed the flyer. She nodded and asked us to wait, opening a smoked glass door and click-clacking out of the room.

A few minutes later, a well-groomed man appeared. After a brief introduction, he led us through and showed us where to hang our outdoor clothes. We could hear muted chatter and the sound of dryers. Once through the salon doors, we were assailed by a wave of heat and scented hair products. We were shown to adjacent empty chairs and told to wait. Looking at myself in the brightly lit mirror was daunting. I saw just how messy my hair had gotten, the pallid colour of my skin from the long period of sickness and bedrest. I watched Edward touch his hair where it curled at his neck and was struck by a rush of fondness, remembering the nights I had played with those curls while I soothed him and held him close.

A young guy stepped up to my chair, smiled at me in the mirror and began to assess my hair.

"Hi, I'm Greg. I'm a trainee. What can I do for you today?"

"I, uhm." I cleared my throat. Edward looked over. "I have a new job and I wanted to get smartened up. I've been cutting it myself for some time now, making do, you know?"

The guy nodded.

"So show me what length you want and we'll start there."

Edward leaned over, a shy smile curving his lips.

"Not too short. I love your curls." His hand reached out and squeezed mine. Until that point, I hadn't been aware of my white knuckles on the arm of the chair. I watched a happy glow stain my cheeks, my eyes shining. Holding my hand to my neck, I indicated where I liked my hair to sit and nodded to the stylist. His fingers fluffed and straightened the strands to judge the length.

"How about a little dash of colour? Not too much, just to give it a little depth. I could weave some honey blond through it, make you look like you just came back from two weeks in Bali." He smiled, tilting his head.

Apprehensive, I looked to Edward who nodded in encouragement.

My throat was dry. "Okay. Let's do that."

Greg set to work, mixing a bowl of what I assumed was dye. In the meantime, a young girl with a big smile approached Edward.

"Hi, I'm Amy. I'm a trainee stylist. You have beautiful hair! Are you looking for something specific today?"

Edward looked down for a second before meeting her enthusiastic smile with a small one of his own. His eyes slid away to meet mine in the mirror.

"I just need it neatened up. It hasn't been cut in over a year and I prefer it shorter." His hands fluttered at his neck and along the sides of his head. Amy looked a little disappointed to me, perhaps hoping for a complete restyle, but she bounced back, her smile fixed into place.

"Okay then, let's get started! Let's get you washed first. It gives a cleaner, sharper cut." She indicated that he was to stand and follow her to a row of basins. I heard the sound of running water.

"Okay, we're ready here." Greg set down the bowl of mixture on the trolley to my right alongside some foil strips and began to comb through my hair. I could see him concentrating, sectioning it off and checking before he began to paint on the colour. It smelled really bad. Greg was methodical, painting and encasing each section in folded foil. This was going to be slow. I didn't know how people coped with this on a regular basis. I wished I'd brought a book.

With my head forward, Greg working on the back sections of my hair, I couldn't see or hear Edward. I felt oddly jealous that someone else was washing his hair. I loved to do that. It seemed almost too intimate an act to share with a stranger; I wanted to be the only one who could tease those beautiful moans from his throat.

Finally, I was done and Edward was sat back next to me, towel around his shoulders, looking for all the world as if he'd rather be anywhere but there in that moment. He looked vulnerable, and I saw straight away that I had been wrong - he hadn't derived a moment's pleasure from the process. The moment I could look up again I caught his eye and grinned, watching him relax back into the chair. While his wet hair was being combed through he continued to gaze at me, grounding himself in familiarity and security.

Time seemed fluid when Edward was next to me; I couldn't look away. He sat back, relaxed at last and a little sleepy while Amy worked on his hair with deft hands. A new Edward emerged, the soft messy bed-hair shorn away. Little bronze curls lay on the tiled floor, forlorn and discarded, and my heart ached with loss.

All dry, the cut complete, Amy brushed his shoulders and waited for her trainer to assess her work. He approved of the smart new look, Edward looking bashful. The guy asked him if he was satisfied and Edward gave a confident affirmative. He smiled at me in the mirror and silently asked for my approval. I could do no more than gaze at him in awe. His slow blink told me he understood.

Amy had fetched a broom and was about to sweep away the hair when I stopped her. Edward looked puzzled until I stood up from my chair and knelt to retrieve a curl, tucking it into a pocket in my wallet. I'm sure it looked weird to everyone else, but I couldn't let every curl go. Too many memories. I sat back down and looked at the timer in front of me, sighing.

I was becoming fidgety, my head itched, and I wanted this process done. At long last, the timer rang. I was taken to the basins and I tried to relax with Greg's hands working my wet hair. They didn't have Edward's sensual touch and I found myself willing it to be over. When I was back in my seat and could see Edward again, I knew that the worst was over. After the cutting was done and my hair was dried, I saw a new man looking back at me. Sun-kissed hair made me look fresh-faced and rested, the length brushing my chin and still long enough for me to sweep back and tie if need be. I gave my approval to Greg and the trainer guy and we stood to leave, giving our grateful thanks. The work was free after all, and they had done an excellent job.

It might have been my imagination, but I thought we got appreciative looks on our walk back. We held our heads high and enjoyed the feeling of belonging, of being part of the beautiful people, groomed to perfection. The effect might've been spoiled on occasion when we found something funny and got the giggles, but that was the joy of being with Edward. The world felt a lighter, brighter place with him by my side.

Stopping off at a pizza joint, we ordered a slice each and a salad to share. We took our time at the self-service salad bar, stacking as much as we could into the little bowl until it was threatening to spill over. We discovered new flavours: the sweetness of baby tomatoes, the tart taste of sliced green apples mixed with rich red grapes.

We didn't waste a scrap.

~o.O.o~

Back home, we both stepped into the bathroom to look at ourselves properly in the water-spotted mirror. It was remarkable. We were almost unrecognisable, our dishevelled appearances transformed into tailored, coiffed works of art.

Overwhelmed, I shook my head, saying the first words that danced through my mind.

"Wow - if we were in suits I could see us in fancy wedding pictures, holding flutes of champagne. Somewhere really flash. Maybe Esme and Carlisle's one day. We look amazing. I've never looked this smart. Shame about the dark circles under my …" I tailed off, seeing Edward's expression in the mirror. His pupils were dilated, bottom lip trapped between his teeth, an unmistakable hitch in his breathing.

I met his gaze in the mirror before turning to him, the back of my forefinger glancing under his jaw. His face pinked; embarrassment or arousal? I wasn't sure until I realised he hadn't dropped his eyes.

"Do you like that idea? Us all dressed up, having our picture taken and looking like a million dollars?"

He watched me, waiting in silence. My eyes narrowed a fraction before widening in understanding. My voice sounded rough to my own ears, unsure of the reaction I was going to get.

"Or is it the idea of marriage some day?"

He gasped, his breathing ragged.

Is this happening?

"Marriage… to me?" He was shaking now, welded to the spot, unable to speak, gasping like a horse after a winning run. I swallowed, the sound thick in the silence. My words dropped to a whisper.

"Would you marry me, Edward?"

Tears pooled and he blinked hard, nodding, lips pressed tight. I caught the tears when they fell, brushing them away with my thumbs.

"Is that a yes?"

The words tumbled out between hitching sobs.

"Yes… yes… yes! I never want to be anywhere else, with anybody else. Just you. Yes, I want to marry you, Jasper. I want to tell the world that you're my husband."

I pulled him into my arms and he buried his face into my neck, soft sniffles reverberating against my skin. The day had turned so fast I felt dizzy, the future holding the promise of even greater things than it had that morning.

The promise of love and commitment and forever.

A husband.

My mind was reeling at the thought of one day calling him my husband. The very idea of Jasper Whitlock, a cheap hustler with no prospects just a short time ago having a husband seemed ludicrous.

"So I guess we just got engaged." A snuffled laugh escaped me at the thought of us getting engaged standing next to the toilet. "I always thought that if that ever happened it would be somewhere all romantic and candlelit."

"I don't care about that. It was perfect." He lifted his head from my shoulder, and all I could see were wet eyelashes above shiny eyes filled with wonder. He leaned in for a long kiss that turned my thoughts into white noise.

Everything was Edward and that was all I needed.

~o.O.o~

I woke to a new day, my stomach churning with nerves. Looking at Edward, I couldn't hold back the rush of love that enveloped me, remembering the change in our relationship status. My smile hurt my cheeks at the memory.

It had rained all of the previous night, just a few obstinate clumps of solid ice remaining in sheltered corners. The danger now came in the form of gigantic puddles and careless drivers soaking unwary pedestrians. Edward sent me off on my first day with bus fare, a sandwich in my pocket, and a big kiss for luck. The bus journey gave me time to calm my fears, but all too soon I was at my stop, the store looming large ahead of me.

With a deep, steadying breath, I pushed open the door.

~o.O.o~

Emmett completed the formalities and introduced me to the staff I would share most of my shifts with. There were a lot and I wasn't used to having names to remember. They'd never come into the equation in my old line of work. I concentrated on the three that would be training me and decided to take it from there.

I had a name badge on my chest that almost quivered from the thumping of my heart when I first set foot on the sales floor as a real employee.

Ty told me a little about himself while he showed me the basics. He was tall, hair cropped very short and shaved at the sides. A little gruff, but otherwise he seemed to be a decent guy. I read between the lines that he had had a fondness for illegal substances in the past. He alluded to rehab, and by all accounts, the program seemed to have stuck. When the conversation stalled, I realised he wanted a little information about me in return. I kept it casual. No, I hadn't been in any trouble with the law. I'd found myself in a downward spiral that I couldn't escape from and had no one to turn to. I needed to support myself and get back in control. Ty nodded and left it at that. I guessed that with so many employees the law of averages meant that a few had less than pristine backgrounds.

Elise was my shift manager. If I was clay to be moulded, she was granite. She eyed me with a jaded expression, another batch of problems handed over for her to sort out and reform into a useful member of the team. She had no way of knowing that I read her easily, my years of practice peeling away the layers of her hardened exterior. She didn't dislike me; she didn't know me. She had had problems with staff in the past, problems that may have left marks. It was a short skip and jump to assuming everyone new on staff was a potential problem until proven otherwise. I had approached new customers in much the same way. Unbeknown to her, we were on the same wavelength.

Ashleigh was cheery, greeting me with a big, genuine smile. She was one of the experienced staff who worked on the cash register. When we got a moment to speak, she told me that she'd worked there for three years and loved it, hoping I'd settle in and love it too.

I worried about fitting in, about being part of a team when I'd always been a team of one. I felt the weight of lying by omission with every conversation I had, turning it around to something else. The downside to that was I didn't have a TV or radio, so any and all pop culture references were lost on me. They thought me weird, that much I could see in their bemused expressions, but didn't shut me out. They made me coffee on breaks and made sure I got my share of the snacks that either Emmett or staff provided. I tried to not overreact when I took my first bite of a jelly doughnut. I failed. Ashleigh laughed and offered me another. I hesitated, not wanting to take more than my share, but she said I could have hers. I smiled, thanking her, and took another, wrapping it in a napkin and setting it aside.

"For my partner."

She looked at me, curious. "Why not just enjoy it while it's fresh?"

I smiled, knowing then that she didn't have a relationship like mine.

"We share everything, that's all."

That wasn't about to change.

~o.O.o~

After my first shift ended, my head whirling and buzzing with new terminology and tasks, I went home and sat watching Edward prepare supper, telling him all about my day. He let me talk, encouraged me to keep talking, to tell him all about it, the people, the feeling of being part of a group and doing something that made me feel good. It wasn't until he served up a supper of stew and vegetables that I noticed the amount of food on the plate.

"This doesn't look right."

I looked over at his plate, seeing a similar amount. He wiggled his eyebrows at me, took a bite of meat and chewed. I waited for an explanation.

"I went to the kitchen today. Some company had donated a whole shipment of damaged cans that were almost on their use-by date. They didn't put a limit on how many you took as they wouldn't keep. First come first served. I figured we could indulge tonight and have a can each. Give us an energy boost. We have more for tomorrow. We could have rice with it."

I hummed my approval, digging in. A full stomach after my first few tiring hours of proper work was the perfect way to end the day.

Edward, of course, insisted on me having a bite of his jelly doughnut despite my protestations, giggling and waving it in front of my face until I caved.

I, in turn, helped him clean all the powdered sugar from his lips with a long, sweet kiss.

~o.O.o~

Days passed, and I learned how to keep the racks tidy and full, what the coloured tags meant on each item, how to record when an item came in and how to rotate stock to keep it fresh and interesting to the customer. While this work might seem mundane to some, it allowed me to focus on simple tasks and do them well. When a customer first approached me for assistance, I was a little shy but willing to help, enjoying the interaction.

All the time I felt Elise's eyes on me, measuring my worth, monitoring my effectiveness. Waiting for me to drop the ball. I tried to ignore it and contented myself with being thorough and efficient. After all, I only worked fifteen hours a week which didn't give me a great deal of time to impress. I just focused on doing as I was taught and assisting others wherever I could. Each shift got a little easier, my frail self-belief growing stronger, a flower unfurling under the sun's benevolent gaze.

The best thing about being on stock control was that I got to check out the items before they hit the racks and get a feel for anything useful. I resolved to talk to Edward before spending any money - rent came first, of course – but being surrounded by goods that could make our lives more comfortable was exciting.

I had to open a bank account for my wages. This involved getting an ID card after Emmett told me what was needed to set it all up. Dealing with authority was unnerving and that was before I even set foot in a bank for the first time. I'm sure that most people didn't think anything of it, but knowing my money would go via a third party before I could get my hands on it took some getting used to. Edward was still paid in cash, being a casual worker, so at least we had cash in hand ready for rent and food. I would then take out my wages in full and we would carry on as usual. We both knew that having any kind of savings were a long way off for us.

Something we had already agreed on was for me to buy phone credit once I got my first paycheck, and I headed to the store on my way home the very next day. I felt a real sense of security for the first time, knowing we now had the means to contact the outside word if an urgent need arose.

It was on my next shift during a sports and leisurewear restock that I discovered several pairs of soft sweat pants. I checked sizes and leg length, selecting two pairs in grey and navy blue that were in good condition. Edward and I had nothing to wear but jeans, and it was a relief to take them off at night to go to bed. The soft fleece would be warm and comfortable and could be slept in if need be. Remembering what I had been told at the start, I took them off the sale floor and hung them in the break room to pay for when my shift ended.

Later that afternoon, Ashleigh ran them through the register and reminded me of the staff discount. My smile widened and she grinned back, handing them to me in a plastic bag. The cost was so low that the discount was minimal, yet I celebrated inside. To us, saving a few cents meant the difference between dry and wet clothes.

It'd been Edward's idea, of course. Since we couldn't afford to use the laundromat often, we still hand washed everything, but each week we took the wet towels and bed sheets to the laundromat to be fluffed in a dryer. We planned to wash everything in a machine at least once a month to get everything really clean if we had the cash, but in the meantime at least it meant that we got to spend time together in the warm. All for the bargain price of fifty cents, on average.

That afternoon I sat on the bus, bag in hand, and thought about Edward. More specifically, about spending the rest of my life with Edward. I looked at my empty left hand and imagined how a ring might look there. Nothing flashy, just a modest band that told the world I was happy and loved. In my mind I saw it shine, felt the warmth of what it represented, and knew in my heart I had to find a way to put a ring on Edward's finger. It wouldn't mean we loved each other more because of it – I doubt we could – it just seemed proper, and for once I wanted to do something right.

Arriving home first, I began to prepare the vegetables left from the previous day and continued to think until I heard him at the door. He kissed my cheek with cold lips before handing me the bag of food for supper. A quick look showed me a carton of eggs and some thin rashers of bacon. I grinned. A fry up was the order of the day.

The evenings after my shifts meant I now had stories and anecdotes to share with Edward, giving us a chance to both share our days while we cooked. The smell of frying bacon made both our stomachs growl, and I added sliced potato to the pan to absorb that lovely flavour. I added a couple of eggs each and then we sat down to a plateful of nourishment that tasted amazing.

Once we were finished, I handed him the bag from the store. I loved watching his face light up when he got something new, and in seconds he had the contents in his lap, holding them up approvingly. The real giveaway was when he unbuckled his jeans, wriggled free and climbed into a pair of soft fleecy pants, a huge smile of happiness creasing his face. Following his lead, I did the same and the feeling of warm fabric encasing my legs instead of cold denim was a revelation. We curled up together, our full stomachs no longer compressed by the usual belt buckles and zips, and sighed with contentment.

~o.O.o~

My training was coming along well and when Emmett called me over one morning a couple of weeks later, I wasn't unduly anxious.

"Ashleigh's going to train you up on the register today. Then she'll supervise you while you find your feet. Sound good, Jasper?"

My eyes widened. "Yes, sir!"

"Glad to hear it. Elise says she has no complaints with your work. That's high praise from Elise." He beamed in that reassuring way of his. No wonder the staff all had such respect for him. A tough but fair attitude with a heart of gold from what I could make out.

I met Ashleigh while I stashed my coat in the break room. She looked bright and ready for the day.

"Morning! Ready to get started? You'll soon get the hang of this, but don't panic if you get in a muddle. I'll be with you. Okay?"

I swallowed. Now I felt nervous.

"Okay. So first up, you need a code to use the register. That way they can track who dealt with each purchase. It's why we can't process our own purchases."

I remembered that from my interview. I nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Emmett's given me your code. Let's go get you logged in!"

I followed her out to the shop floor, her dark, corkscrew curls bouncing with each step. Even her hair had an upbeat personality. I smiled. Standing behind the register, I looked at it properly for the first time and saw a lot of coloured buttons with codes on.

"It's pretty straightforward." She looked at me with a half-smile. "Okay, maybe not initially for you. I forget you haven't used one before. You learn fast though so I reckon you'll be fine." She pressed a button and the display asked for a code.

"See here?" I nodded. "This is your employee code." She punched in three numbers written on a slip of paper. The display changed and I saw my name appear. I gaped, and Ashleigh laughed at my face. "You're official now." She handed me the paper with the number, and I tucked it into my pocket.

"Let's get started." She pointed to the blue button marked CL. "That's for clothing. The red one, that's kitchenware, that's books…" She pointed out all the marked buttons, and I tried to memorise them all. She demonstrated a dummy transaction, walking me through the process. I breathed out long and slow, calming my nerves. A customer approached with a dress over her arm.

Ashleigh looked at me, raising her eyebrows. "Come on, cowboy. Let's give it a try."

I greeted the customer and began a painfully slow transaction that involved hitting the wrong buttons more than once and having to be rescued. When the register opened, I was at least able to deal with the payment efficiently before bagging the dress and apologising to the customer for my ineptitude, explaining that I was new. She shrugged, taking the bag and walking off without a word. I looked at Ashleigh.

"You did the right thing and you were polite. Don't worry. With one transaction under your belt, you'll be more confident on the next one."

She was right. Over the course of two hours, I made clumsy progress on the register but kept up my cheerful demeanour. By the time I learned how to sign myself out I felt drained from intense concentration, but proud.

~o.O.o~

Later that evening, I tried to explain how I felt to Edward. He played with my hair, my head in his lap, while I made sense of it all.

"It's like, legitimate contact with the public. I'm not skulking in the shadows, hiding from plain sight. Just seeing the same people each day feels really good, you know?"

He murmured agreement, the feeling of his fingers making my speech slow and dopey. He knew how I felt because he'd been there too. We were used to being invisible, too poor to matter to most, and now we held positions of respectability and trust. I wanted to wear that badge of honour with pride. I looked up at his smiling face, so fond, and knew that we were on our way.

I rolled over and pulled him close.

We were in love and engaged to be married.

Life was beautiful.