.
"Where did everyone go?" Edward asked, entering the room where Bella was lying passed out on the couch, suffering from an acute case of food coma and bloating.
"Huh?" she responded, stifling a very unladylike burp.
"Emmett and Jasper? Where did they go?"
"Oh," she propped herself up on her elbows and looked around. "Emmett took a phone call. Jasper, I don't know. He was here just a second ago."
Edward's eyes narrowed as he considered her response, "I bet he's hiding from Alice. You heard her at dinner, right? All she could talk about was babies, child-bearing and child-rearing. I'm not sure they are on the same page with that one. Run Jasper, run, while there is still time," cupping his hands around his mouth he pretended to shout the last words.
"You don't mean that," Bella told him, easing herself back to previous reclined position on the couch again. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen Alice in a while either. They could be off somewhere together having naked 'bonding time' as we speak. I know Alice is dying to try out the cowgirl outfit Jasper got her for Christmas."
"Gross, Swan! Thanks for adding to the list of mental images that can't be erased."
"You're welcome," she told him flatly. While she appreciated his attempt to strike up a light-hearted and casual conversation, she couldn't quite work up the energy to keep the small talk going for more than a couple back-and-forth rounds. Her digestive system seemed to be struggling with what to do with the obscenely lavish dinner she'd just eaten. Too much food in a too small space. Esme was an evil, evil woman for tempting her with turkey meatloaf with mushrooms and white beans and cauliflower mashed potatoes and a few other Christmas leftover delights.
Edward didn't seem discouraged by her short tone, or perhaps he too was feeling some food induced sluggishness, because he sank down in one of the armchairs and unceremoniously put his feet up on the coffee table.
And then there was silence.
The only sound that was heard was the voices of the characters on the TV and the ticking of a nearby clock. The silence stretched until Bella couldn't stand it anymore.
"So… my blood pressure was pretty good, lower than it has been in days, " she blurted, pressing the heel of her palm to her overfull belly, trying to soothe the uneasy feeling, "but I'm sure your father already told you that, right?"
"That's great and yes, I had heard about it already, from multiple sources actually."
His lips twitched, like he was fighting off a smile, and Bella narrowed her eyes at him. "I told you working on my laptop for a few hours wouldn't be a problem."
"You won that argument!" he held his hands up in surrender. "I left you alone, didn't I?!"
"You did, but then my battery died after the power cord went mysteriously missing. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
"Nope," he shrugged, acting all innocent and saint-like. "Maybe one of the kids ran off with it?" he suggested, grabbing the TV remote from the coffee table. "Mind if I change the channel?"
"Change of subject, you mean? Don't think I-…" Bella started replying, when her stomach gurgled loudly, prompting Edward to quirk an eyebrow at her.
"Did you say something, Swan? he shifted his gaze from the TV to give her an amused smirk.
"Don't give me that look. Just, um, a case of a little gas," she laughed, but still couldn't stop her ears and face from heating up." It's the beans. It will pass… soon… I'm sure."
"That's usually how it works," Edward teased, pulling his shirt up over his nose, and waving a hand as if clearing the air of a foul odor.
"Laugh now, but you're sharing room with Anthony tonight and I happen to know that the little stinker ate an impressive amount of the very same beans that have me all gassy."
"Great, that settles it. I give up! I'm not going to try and force the kid to eat anything remotely green until he's old enough to live on his own. Did you know red grapes make his poop go all purple?"
"Eww, is that normal?"
"What, smelly, runny, messy crap? Afraid so… You do not want me to repeat what Rose told me about teething babies and their stool."
"No, probably not," Bella blanched at the image that provoked. "I know I should read up on this stuff, but spare me the graphics, please!"
"You're the one that started it with all your talk about gas, beans and smelly kids."
"Speaking of kids, where is Tony? Is he down for the night already, or did you dump him on your dear, sweet mother?"
"She volunteered. If she wants to do bedtime stories and snuggles and lullabies for the remaining of our stay, who am I to stand in her way?"
"Edward…"
"What?! She's good at it. You know it usually takes me hours to get him to settle down. Besides, it's not like I left him high and dry. I tucked him in, kissed him goodnight and stayed until he was so absorbed in the story he wouldn't even have noticed if the roof fell down around him." This time Edward was the one blanching.
"Eh, bad choice of words," he winced. " Still too soon to joke about it."
"It will always be too soon to joke about that," Bella shuddered. "Let's talk about something else," she suggested.
"Like what? The weather? Because I don't think I want to hear more about your digestive problems."
"No, I had something else entirely in mind," she turned her head to face him with what she hoped was a serious, but encouraging look on her face. "You still haven't told me about your dreams, Edward."
"The ones where I hope to become an astronaut and follow in Neil Armstrong's footsteps? What about them?" he deadpanned, though the sarcasm somehow lacked its usual bite.
"I'm serious. You know I'm talking about your nightmares. Explain to me, how do they work? Are they like genuine flashbacks? Or more like random images that your brain attempts to make sense of while you are asleep?"
"You think I'm making them up? That I'm subconsciously making up false memories."
"No, it's just that nightmares are rarely exact playbacks of real life events. Most dreams tend to be just a mix of memories and your subconscious throwing people and places and events together in a big jumbled mish-mash."
"That might be true for your nightmares maybe, if you even have any, but mine have always been extremely accurate in detail, even the ones that are more symbolic than literal. That's what makes them nightmares," his voice sounded strained, like he didn't want to be having this conversation, but there was no getting around it. "Nightmares to me means having to relive every single bad memory, every single wrongdoing, every single mistake I've ever made, knowing there is nothing I can do to change the outcome."
"I'm sorry. I know this is something that plagued you for a long time. Maybe you should talk to someone, there are specialists….maybe you could try hypnosis…"
He shook his head like he didn't want to hear it. "Every single memory that I've kept locked up tight, all of them are fucking haunting me every time I fall asleep, and you're asking me to explain it all to you? I can't do that, Bella. I just can't do it!"
"Fair enough. I won't ask again," she conceded, fully recognizing the pained and inward-turned expression on his face. "Just tell me about the car, Edward. It would help enormously if you could tell me more about the car."
He relaxed visibly. The car he could talk about, it was a safe topic… No, not safe, safer. It was safer. "It's a mustang, bluish green in color. The interior smells and looks like an old car. There is not much to tell, really. It's always too dark, too much rain and mist on the windows to make out much of anything..."
"Always? So this is something that has been recurring, then? You've dreamt about it before," she prompted. "Or is this an entirely new development?"
"A few times over the last two, three weeks," Edward sighed. His tone was clipped, but at least he was answering her. "I didn't realize the significance right away. The change was gradual. I guess the easiest way to describe it would be to say that the setting started morphing, from…. eh, from where my nightmares usually take me… Don't ask me to divulge on that," he warned, before he continued. "…into the interior of a car, a passenger seat, where I find myself stuck with some nameless, faceless, female figure is crawling all over me."
"Anthony's mother?"
"Yeah, I can't explain how or why I know that. It's not like I have a clear recollection of the actual… well you know." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his eyes. "Maybe you're right, maybe my mind is stirring up all sorts of crazy shit, but there is real stuff in there too. I can tell from the details, the feel of it, the way it involves all senses, not just visual images, but smells and textures too. "
"I'm no expert on memoryretrieval, but from what I understand context is important. You were in a car with Alice yesterday when you fell asleep and the nightmare occurred. It was dark and I'm guessing it was raining or snowing at the time. You were placed in a different yet similar context to 'that' night and it subconsciously opened a flood gate of memories."
"I guess," he shrugged. "But it's not always like that. Sometimes it just happens out of the blue, no warnings and sometimes I can go months without dreaming anything, god or bad."
"You shouldn't avoid sleeping though. That's unhealthy! I don't think you can really predict your dreams. They are not pleasant, I get that, but in the long run those nightmares will help you deal with stuff in a manner that isn't self destructive."
"I just wish I could remember more. I feel like I need to. What if I never remember what happened?"
He sounded weary and resigned, and that depressed the hell out of her.
"You're doing great," she said softly, and meant it. "Things may not be happening at the speed that I want them to, but it is happening. For what it's worth, I've actually been trained in memory-enhancing techniquesfor investigative Interviewing. I happen to know that there are tricks you can use to speed up the process."
"Not hypnoses, or therapy or anything like that. I don't want someone dissecting my every thought and action," he declared, folding his arms across his chest.
"And you wonder where your son getshis stubborn streak from," Bella remarked, earningherself an annoyed look in return.
"At least hear me out, alright!" shepersisted.
"Remember what I said about context being important? You brain subconsciously links memories to what was going on around you at the time the memory was formed. Encountering that same context again can trigger the memory, or at least make it more likely to be triggered. "
His eyebrows shot up. "You think I should try and reenact the event?"he snorted, like the ideawas ridiculous.
"I think you should try and put yourself in the same context – this includes not only the car and the physical environment you were surrounded by, but also your mood, your general psychological state and level of intoxication that night."
"So, let me get this straight," he scoffed, massaging his temples. "In the odd chance that you actually do manage to track down the right car, I should drink myself shit faced and then go ahead and have a make out session with some random girl in the passenger seat of an old beaten up Mustang? Is that what you're suggesting?"
"I don't think you have to take it to those extremes," Bella replied with a forced laugh. "A visit to the club would… oh…" she stopped mid sentence as she realized her mistake. He wouldn't know what club she was talking about, because she had accidently forgotten to tell him that little detail. Only she wasn't sure he would get the 'accident' part.
And sure enough,he immediately tensed and gave her a narrow-eyed look, "What club?" he demanded, "What are you talking about?"
"I'm sorry, I meant to tell you this morning, but it slipped my mind."
"Sure you did. "Edward snorted, clearly not believing a word of it. "These kinds of slips seem to happen a lot with you."
"No, I really did plan on telling you." She pleaded with her eyes for him to understand, to not make a big deal out of it.
"Fine, it doesn't matter," he relented. "Just another one of those things you didn't think it was necessary for me to know about. Whatever… Why don't you just tell me what it is already instead of being so pathetic about it?"
His words stung. "I'm just waiting for you to shut up and let me talk," she snapped at him before she caught herself. Taking a deep breath, she tried adopting a more professional mindset, shutting everything else away.
"So talk," he said. "Jeez Swan, you got a mouth all you have to do is open it...shouldn't be that hard. Most of the time you don't shut up."
She cleared her throat, ignoring the jab. It was justified, after all. "We know where the birthday party was held, the one that both you and Peter attended."
"Where?"
"Volterra,it's a night club down by the waterfront, close to the Arcade. Do you know the place?"
He shook his head. "Not really, no. How do you know this?" He continued to scowl with his brow furrowed.
"A few years back, Peter was part of the line-up for an event that went under the name T'he Live and Loud Birthday Bash'. It was the 5th Anniversary of the birth of MNC Radio Network. It was heavily promoted, so it is likely that you saw an ad or heard about it on the radio or something... or maybe you simply ran into him by chance… Anyway, we know for sure that he was there and everything else fits, the timeframe, the theme of the party, the whole set up. It was a fancy affair, big venue, non-stop live entertainment, gourmet sushi and seafood buffetand anopen bar for the guests in the VIP section."
"A PR event?" Edward interrupted,getting to his feet to pace. Back and forth he went, trying to make sense of what he was being told. "You're sure about this?"
"Yes, I'm sure. There is more… We've heard from an initiated source that the caterer received multiple complaints about the state of the seafood they served. You weren't the only one that was experiencing allergic reactions that night."
"Oh…" Edward allowed his fingers to rake his hair, another a sure sign that his frustrationwas becoming unbearable. "I knew it wasn't all in my head, or the alcohol wrecking havoc on my body. I didn't just swell up like a soccer ball, for no reason. I knew it had to have been something I ate! I just knew it!"
"It seems your instincts were right. The whole ordeal was later written off as a case of wrongfully used food preservatives, but what really happened was that the shrimps were soaked in some rather questionable chemicals to appear fresher longer. "
"Questionable chemicals?"
"There is so much crap in the food we eat these days, you wouldn't believe it. Although harmless in smaller doses, larger doses of many common food preservatives, sweeteners and artificial colorants, can be quite toxic, especially for individuals with a low tolerance threshold. If you combine that with a little bit of intoxication and a large portion of angst, it's no wonder it sent you into full panic mood."
He stopped pacing suddenly. "You think it was deliberate? That someone did something purposely…" His eyes widened and he looked ashen at the thought. "Wait, the nametag! It must have belonged to someone that was working there, in that nightclub, at that party, that night!"Three large strides and then he was at her side by the coach, looming over her, demanding answers.
She felt like shaking him and hugging him all at once.
"I see were you're going with this, but no, that's not what I think. You misunderstood me," she told him with as much conviction and authority as she could muster. "Listen to me Edward. The chemical were added by the supplier before the shrimps and scallops were frozen, which were weeks before they were actually served. All of which is standard procedure, but in this case they were careless and didn't follow proper protocol, hence the unfortunate outcome."
"Unfortunate?" he huffed, sounding upset by her choice of words. "I was forced to have my stomach pumped. It was horrible. Not unfortunate or merely unlucky, it was a truly and utterly horrid experience. How did I not know about this? Are they still in business? Please tell me someone sued them into none existence."
"One would hope so. Honestly, I don't know. You want me to find out for you? I didn't think this was something you'd… "
"How long have you known?" he interrupted.
"Known what? " It looked like he was about to start pacing again, so she grabbed a hold on his wrist.
"The location…Volterra…. Peter, the chemicals… everything…" He knelt until he was almost eye level with her.
"Only since last night," she told him, meeting his glaring gaze with a firm look of her own. "I was telling the truth before when I said I was going to tell you, but itslipped my mind."
"Damn it, Bella! I wish you would have told me straight away," he spat at her, turning his face away like he couldn't stand the sight of her.
She cringed, immediately recognizing where he was going with this. She'd held back information from him one too many times. It was not something he was going to get over easily.
"Hours, Edward, we're talking hours here. What difference does it make?"
"What difference does it make?" he repeated in a mocking manner. "Are you seriously telling me I should be glad it's only hours and not days or weeks or months this time? Seriously?!"
"I'm sorry, alright. It was an honest slip. I forgot, it happens when you have a lot on your mind." Not wanting to rehash everything again she tried to deflect the conversation away from herself. "Look, you were right about one thing. There is a strong possibility that the woman we're looking for was part of the external wait and bar staff hired for the night."
Of course, Edward wasn't interested in changing the subject just yet. "I can't trust you to tell me anything," hebarked, his voice dropping to arough growl.
She had no comeback, no answer, no sharp reply. She hunched her shoulders, all the fight in her suddenly slipping away. She felt a pang in her chest and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the surge of emotional and physical distress to pass. Only it didn't, instead she felt another 'pang' and this time she realized straight away it wasn't in her chest, it was in her stomach and it wasn't a pang, it was more like a… it felt more like a… it was a kick!
"Edward," she reached out to touch him, but he shrugged her off almost violently. Her bad shoulder ached from the jolt, but she ignored the pain.
"I don't want to hear more excuses,"he warned, rising to his feet. "I'll leave if you -…
"No, you can't leave! Get back down here, I need you to do that again!"
"Do what?" he questioned, obviously not sure what exactly she was referring to.
"I know this sounds nuts, but lean down and keep talking!"
"Have you completely lost it?"
"No, I haven't lost it. Or maybe I have… Look, I felt the baby move. It just kicked!"
"It kicked? " he sounded dubious and she couldn't blame him. At least the anger gone, replaced with a mask of confusion. "It's moving?"
"Yes. Not this very moment, but before when you were kneeling down, speaking to me. I think the close proximity of your voice set it off."
"You think it reacted to my voice?"
"It was reacting to something, because those thumps were way more intense than any fluttering, bubbling or popping sensation I've felt up to this point. They were real, actual kicks!"
"Can I... touch it?"he asked, slowly sinking back down on his knees again, so that his facewas level with her belly.
"If you want to, sure."
"Where?"he asked, his hand slowly tracing the hem of her t-shirt.
"Try here," Bella instructed, guiding his hand higher. "Now, lean closer and talk to it."
He tucked his legs underneath him and leaned forward hesitantly, as if afraid to get too close. "Hi, baby," he said awkwardly, obviously feeling rather foolish about the whole thing. "Be a good sport and give me a kick."
Bella held her breath and waited. Edward waited, his palm resting unmoving on top of her stomach.
Nothing happened.
"I think you need to speak louder, in a deeper voice. You were practically screaming at me before."
"Forget it," he told her, though despite his protest, his voice dropped down into its lowest register as he continued speaking. "You don't scream or growl at a baby… or a belly. That's just not right."
Bella couldn't hold back the grin that spread across her face. The words had barely left his lips, when she felt the familiar bubbling sensation that she had come to recognize as somersaults. The little alien was indeed reacting to the sound of Edward's voice, shifting around inside her womb.
Edward's eyes locked with hers, but he didn't mirror her awed expression, instead he pressed his lips into a grim line.
"You didn't feel that, did you?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"No," he grumbled.
"It's working though, you should keep talking," she suggested, giving him an encouraging smile.
"I don't know what to say." He took his hand away and she almost whimpered at the loss of contact. "It feels weird. Talking to something that won't talk back. The whole thing is weird."
She though he was about to get up and leave, but instead he did the complete and total opposite.
Without asking permission, he pushed her t-shirt up until it was bunched up just underneath her bra, covering her breasts, but exposing her entire midsection.
"There is a growing baby in there," it sounded like more like a question than a statement. "It's just hard to comprehend. If I hadn't seen it myself…."
His hand was back, palming the slight swell of her stomach again, both hands actually. It was such a normal gesture, so achingly real and honest, thatBella couldn't resist placing her own hands on top of his. She held her breath, but he didn't brush her off and the moment stretched into an eternity.
"I still don't feel anything…" he said, finally breaking the silence after what felt like an eternity of pure serenity. "Is it still moving?"
"No, it stopped." Bella admitted. "But keep talking. I swear for awhile there it felt like I had an entire popcorn factory in my uterus."
"Popcorn factory? Now you're just pulling my leg," Edward snorted, but kept his hands firmly in place.
Another few minutes of light bickering between them passed.
"Swan, I'm sorry for raising my voice at you before. That was unnecessary."
"It was, but I understand why you reacted the way you did."
His sincere apology made her compelled take the conversation into a new uncharted territory. They were alone, actually talking to each other without screaming and yelling and accusing… much… and there was no telling when another opportunity like might come around again.
"Edward, tell me honestly, are we going to be okay?"
"Honestly," he questioned, looking at her as she nodded. "I don't know."
"But you do wantus to be okay? Do you want us to do this…. " she gestured to her stomach, "… together?"
"I don't know," he answered again. "It's the truth, I don't know. Every time I think it's going well, every time I let you back into my heart, you turn around and stomp on it!"
He must have seen her face fall because he hurried to add, "Or I will go and do something equally hurtful to you. I know I'm not without fault."
"You think we're broken beyond repair?"
"I think I love you… No, I know I love you, I've never felt anything remotely this strong for anyone else, but I don't think I can survive another fallout. It just too painful and I have a kid now to take into consideration… soon there will be two kids. The way we fight, the way we argue, the way we communicate… I don't want the kids to end up in the middle of a messy break-up."
His words were harsh, but she knew they weren't meant to upset her, not meant to start another fight or argument; they were just the truth.
"I feel the same way, share the same fears," she admitted, not caring at that moment if it made her sound cliché andpitiful. "I really, reallywant us to be okay, but I'm scared of being dependant, of loving too much. The more you love, the more you stand to loose and with kids…" she paused to take few breaths to regain her cool. Her heart was racing. "I was shipped between two parents growing up. God knows, my parents had no business being together in the first place, but there is no such thing as a happy divorce. I was forced to grow up and mature quicker than I was ready to."
"You realize you never told me much about any of this before. Sometimes I feel like I don't know you at all. You're impossible to read."
"You have secrets too. We've been apart longer than we've been together. You've made a life for yourself without me. You've had other girlfriends..."
"Other girlfriends?! You were married!"
"I'm just saying that we both have things about our past that we haven't shared. Things that have shaped us and made us the persons we are now." She risked a touch to his shoulder. His muscles tensed beneath her fingertips.
"As for my marriage…. I can set you straight about one thing right away. I didn't marry for love," she whispered, "I was a kid. I didn't know what I was doing. Jake was safe, because I couldn't see myself ever truly falling for him. Everyone I had ever loved had let me down one way or another. Yes, you included," she added when his head shot up. "Though, I know now that it was just as much my own fault as it was yours."
"Biker boy treated you like crap for years, how was that in any way better than being heart-broken?"
"You forget his career had him travelling 250 days a year. I rarely ever saw him and that was fine by me. I cared for him a great deal, but I never loved him. For the longest of time I closed myself off to feeling anything even remotely close to real affection. I have scars too, most of which are from events that happened when I was too young to know how to deal with them."
"I warned you," Edward grumbled, hanging his head down low, as if purposely avoiding eye contact with her. "I told you to stay away from Jake. Hell, I told you to stay away from me too. I was a fuckup in high school, a monster. Your dad was right about me. You should have listened to him, it would have saved us all a lot of pain."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I hate it when you talk about yourself like that," her voice came out soft but steady. "We had so much common ground, back then. We were two moody teenagers with heaps of emotional baggage that we covered up with attitude, anger and anti-social acting out."
"You, acting out," he snorted. "Please, you were a saint compared to me. You had not as much as smoked a cigarette, let alone anything stronger, before we met."
"We were on the opposite side of that spectrum. You had so much aggressions and anger inside you, while I was busy living out everyone else's expectations, but my alone in a world where you don't quite fit in can be a daunting thing. You see it too, don't you, the parallels between our lives?"
He opened his mouth to object, but thought better of it and mumbled a half-hearted, "I guess I do."
Bella didn't like the grim expression on his handsome face. She didn't like the way his eyes searched hers, as if trying to determine the level of truth in the words she spoke.
In an attempt lighten the mood, she bumped his shoulder with her forehead and joked, "Look at us, talking about our past without resorting to name-calling and finger pointing."
"We've gotten more mature, I guess," he agreed.
"Seems like it," she all but beamed at him. "We were two kids way too immature to handle a serious relationship and now we're two adults trying to be responsible and realistic about our situation. All that other stuff, the teenage angst, I say it's time we leave it be. We have more pressing issues to deal with." She let her eyes fall to his hands, still resting on her stomach.
"For now," he agreed, spreading his fingers out to touch as much of her belly as he could reach. "But only because you're right. We really do have more pressing issues to worry about. You know anything about new-born babies, Swan? Because I'm clueless."
"Uh, they eat, sleep, poop and cry... a lot. There is still time to prepar-…" she started at the same time as another voice suddenly and very unexpectedly filled the room.
"Have you seen my char-…, " the voice trailed off. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."
Bella and Edward both looked towards the door and saw… "Jasper?"
"Um yeah hi, I'll be quick," he promised, walking into the room. "I'm just looking for something." He rounded the coffee table and came to a sudden halt.
"Whoa! Are you guys getting it on? I spy naked bits. Now I feel even worse about interrupting," he exclaimed, covering his eyes dramatically with his hands, but obviously peeking.
"You should," Edward grumbled, as he quickly tugged at Bella's T-shirt and smoothed it out until the fabric was covering every inch of her previously exposed stomach. "And yes, that's exactly what we're doing… in my parent's house, on my mother's couch, with the rest of the family milling about,"he added, moving to sit on the edge of the coffee table.
"Ooh, sounds kinky," Jasper teased. "I'll leave you to it. I was just looking for my phone charger, but unless you're sitting on it…." he motioned vaguely towards Bella's form on the couch and Edward butt on the table.
Edward rolled his eyes. "Nope… Not here."
"Oh well…" Jasper shrugged turning to leave. He started to walk away, but snapped his fingers like he had just remembered something. "That AC adapter you wanted to borrow, I placed it on your bed, Swan."
"Thanks, Jasper! Hey, wait! I've finished the list now."
"What list?"
"The list of questions I told you I was working on, for when Peter calls. I'd prefer to be present for that conversation, but if not, I'd like you to ask him about the stuff on this list." Shepulled out a piece of paper from between the couch cushions and held it out for him to look at.
"Oh, that old list," Jasper laughed, as he took a few steps back into the room.
"Is this an 'a' or an 'u'," he asked as he scanned the questions.
"An 'u 'sorry, sloppy handwriting. It should be Maria Giovanna Nahuel".
"Who is…"Jasper started to ask, but had to clear his voice when only a squeak had escaped. "Who's Maria?"
"That's what I'm hoping Pete can tell us. As you can see, there are a few other names I'd like you to run by him."
"Huh?"
"Names," she repeated. "There are quite a few of them on the list that I hope you can run by Peter."
"Right…. "He nodded, but appeared tobe deep in thoughtashe began rattling off the names, "Angela Weber, Larissa Grey, James T Wilson and James Turner..."
"Are you alright, Jasper? You're looking kind of pale."
"I'm fine…" he muttered. "I'll try and get you some answers, but there are a lot of questions and I'm not sure…"
"How long you can keep him on the phone. I understand. Do your bestthough," Bellanodded in understanding. "Or better yet, come find me and let me speak with him when he calls. Hey, are you sure you're alright? You don't look too well."
"He really did look out of sorts, a fine layer of sweat glistened on his forehead.
"It's the food. I ate way too much. The beans…"
"Say no more," Edward interrupted him before he could finish the sentence, shoving his friend somewhat brusquely towards the door. "Bye-bye, Jasper!"
.
.…..
.