Chapter 5
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My grandfather Swan left my parents his Airstream trailer when he died, and they've taken up camping like it is essential, second only to air. They're always excitedly scoping out new potential campgrounds, and my mother now spends her every free moment bidding on vintage Airstream memorabilia on E-bay. Their new hobby has aged them in my eyes, by several decades, and suddenly they're like that sweet old couple that you smile kindly at and pat forlornly on the head. I fully expect my dad to start wearing socks with his Velcro sandals any day now.
Worse yet, they're forever trying to get Emmett and me to go camping with them. Lucky for us, their excitement with their newfound hobby overshadows our disinterest and they don't seem to care at all that we're continuously looking for excuses to weasel our way out of camping with them.
This weekend is no different. Our parents are off in the Hill Country, doing whatever it is old people in aluminum trailers do, and I'm at home alone with strict instructions to "look after Emmett," and to call them immediately if he, "gets into any trouble." So far, it's been delightfully quiet, but then it's only Friday and our parents just left a few hours ago.
I've invited my friend Angela over to swim, but her parents seem super strict and they're not fond of her being here alone in the house without anybody but my brother to act as guardian. The thought of Emmett being responsible for, well…anything, makes me laugh.
Resigned to a night alone, I've just made myself comfortable on our couch in the den with my favorite book, when I hear the humming of the garage door indicating that Emmett is home. I've got one leg hooked over the back cushion, the other tucked up underneath me, and I'm entirely too caught up in my book to pay him any attention. Unwilling to tear my eyes from the pages, the slapping of Emmett's keys as he throws them down on the countertop scarcely registers in the back of mind. It's the accompanying peel of female laughter that brings my peaceful moment to a needle-skipping halt.
Before I can even address whoever my brother has brought home, the den is filled with the sickeningly sweet smell of too much floral perfume and the infectious sound of Emmett's booming laugh.
"Hi, little Birdie," Emmett says, pushing my foot off the back of the couch as he walks by. My leg bounces as it slaps the couch cushion, which causes my book to snap shut against my chest.
My annoyance at being interrupted is obvious as I sit up and dog-ear my novel, tucking my knees underneath me. I find myself face to face with not one, but two of Emmett's lackeys.
Kate and Lauren stand side by side like a pair of clichéd twins. They're both in shorts so short that the pockets hang out below their frayed hems. They're completely identical from their pierced belly buttons down to their cheap wedged heels, except that-and I smirk as I realize- Kate's legs are streaked with orange tanning lotion. My eyes flitter up to their overly made-up faces and I give them each my most innocent fake smile.
Lauren stops snapping her gum long enough to address me. "Hi, Birdie," she giggle-says.
"It's Bella," I remind her. "Hi."
I flush immediately—it can't be helped—when Edward strolls into the room and leans causally against the couch at Lauren's side. At my blush, a lazy smirk slinks across his face. Aside from that small sign of life, he's every bit the picture of boredom. Pure, bored perfection. It's that fucking baseball cap, I decide, staring at him a beat too long. Its slightly curled bill shadows his eyes, making his sharp nose and jaw more apparent than usual. The tips of his longish hair curl out and over the sides, and-it embarrasses me to realize-I'd give anything to touch it.
As usual, Emmett interrupts my private thought process by loudly announcing that I'd better "scoot my ass over," because they're about to watch a movie.
Oblivious to my horrification, Kate plops down beside me on the middle couch cushion, and Emmett sits down next to her on the end opposite mine. We're like three incestuous peas in a pod. To make matters worse, Edward and Lauren cozy up on the loveseat across from us.
So much for peaceful reading time.
Emmett points the remote at the screen and immediately the opening scene of the movie begins. As usual, he has the volume cranked up disturbingly loud.
"Get the lights, Birdie," he commands me. If I weren't so relieved at the opportunity to extricate myself from the third wheel situation on the couch, I'd probably smack him in his stupid head and tell him to get the fucking lights himself. Instead, I dutifully shut them off, then settle more comfortably on the floor near my brother's feet.
I know I'm in trouble when I hear Kate start giggling softly from her spot on the couch to my right. It's when Emmett starts whispering to her that I truly think I might get sick. I cough loudly several times as not-so-gentle reminder to Emmett that his little sister is in the room, but he either doesn't notice or doesn't care, and the giggling continues.
Keeping my eyes trained on the movie, I let my mind wander to the loveseat, and to the sounds drifting from its direction. If Emmett and Kate are up to no good, do I even want to know what Edward and Lauren are doing? No, I decide, I don't. But before I can even restrain myself, I'm turning my head slowly in their direction, hoping that the darkness of the room will hide my curious eyes. My stomach clenches harshly at the realization that they're not actually watching the movie at all. Instead, Edward has turned his hat backwards, and he has his lips…his entire face…pressed tightly against Lauren's. My breath hitches and my eyes blink swiftly as I watch him lean over her, one hand high up on her thigh while the other runs smoothly under her shirt.
The previous repulsion I felt at the sight of my over-eager brother is swiftly replaced by a feeling of desperate sorrow at the sight of Edward wrapped around this stupid girl. Fake and dumb…she's the epitome of everything I abhor. What can he possibly see in her?
My eyes swim with tears and I work quickly to blink them away. Turning my face up to the movie once more, I plot my escape out of this room, away from these people. The smack smack smack of Lauren's lip-gloss as it sticks and pulls against Edward's lips taunts me and I cross and uncross my legs awkwardly, looking for the least obvious method of standing and escaping. Like some sick masochist, I can't help but look back once more while I clamber to my feet, inching my way out of the room. This time, although his lips are still lapping and pulling at hers, his hand still smoothly caressing her inner thigh, Edward's eyes are locked on me. Dark, hooded, they strip away my composure and leave me breathless and confused as I scamper from the room.
.
.
My brother is consistently inconsistent, which is why, when I give Emmett the go-ahead to tell Edward that it's okay to call me, I shouldn't be the least bit surprised to receive an email from him several days later instead.
From: Edward Cullen eacullen
To: Bella Swan bellas4606
Subject: Catching up?
Bella,
I'm sorry if I caught you off guard with my phone call last week. I asked Emmett for your email…thought maybe it'd be easier this way?
Maybe I'm presumptuous in asking, but would you be willing to meet me for coffee? I'd really like to catch up, talk things out…
Hope to hear from you soon,
Edward
I read and then reread his email numerous times. I knew he wanted to talk; Emmett had the decency to prepare me for that much at least. However, I still can't help but feel…irked, by the offhand way he references our history, like we're just two old pals, shooting the shit. Ava, my daughter…our daughter, can't be summed up over coffee. On the other hand, there's no way I'm letting him near our home, and I'm certainly not going to his, so I guess coffee will have to do.
From: Bella Swan bellas4606
To: Edward Cullen eacullen
Subject: Re: Catching up?
Edward,
I'm willing to meet over coffee. My days are packed, but I have a short break this Friday around 10:30. Does that work for you? There's a coffee shop at the corner of Main and Glade...
Bella
As soon as I hit "send" my stomach is in knots and I'm immediately regretful. Just the thought of him and the incomplete hold he has over Ava's life makes my stomach churn and my eyes swim. How on earth can I expect to sit across from this man, and pretend as though everything is okay? He played a game with me all those years ago, using me up and throwing me away. He never cared, never even pretended that he did. What, if anything, can he possibly say to undo all the damage he's done, all the pain he's inflicted on me? On us.
I'm contemplating retracting my earlier acceptance when my email pings with a notification of new mail. Well, shit.
From: Edward Cullen eacullen
To: Bella Swan bellas4606
Subject: Friday it is…
I wouldn't miss it. See you at 10:30.
Edward
p.s. Your email address has me stumped. What's 4606?
And just like that, he's done it. I haven't even seen him face to face, merely a short, exasperated phone call and a series of clipped emails, and he's managed to take six years' worth of self-growth and healing and completely undo it all. Once again I'm simply a naïve girl placing her world at the feet of a selfish boy.
It's with shaky hands and a heavy heart that I compose my final email. I take a deep breath, hold my head high, and give words to my source of joy for the past six years.
From: Bella Swan bellas4606
To: Edward Cullen eacullen
Subject: Re: Friday it is...
4/6/06. My daughter's birthday.
Bella
Thanks for reading.