A/N: Thanks to SSHG316, my kindred spirit and keeper of secrets, for the beautiful banner which now graces TLC on Twilighted. This was a gift that I didn't expect, but appreciate more than you know (or maybe you do, considering how much I gushed over it). Heartfelt thanks to SSHG316, acireamos and Charmie77 for beta'ing and helping me in ways that encourage and inspire me. You each have unique strengths that illuminate my writing. Get well Charmie77 and come back to play; you and acireamos were the first authors on this fandom to embrace me and I will be forever grateful for that.
Review now so you can help decide James' fate. I know that there are hundreds of people reading this story. If this chapter gets at least 50 reviews, I'll poll the reviews and let you tell me what should happen to James.
Do you want him to stay good and be humanely dumped by Bella, or
Do you want him to be bad and let Bella viciously dump him?
You decide, and you can't vote if you don't review. And you don't get to decide if I don't get at least 50 reviews. Come on, review me. You know you wanna.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of the characters. I am just living vicariously through them.
Trust, Loyalty, Commitment
Turn, Turn, Turn
The Byrds
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late
--Lyrics from Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
Chapter 8 – TLC: A Time For Everything
EPOV
Edward's Monday morning prior to reporting for duty had been a definite change to his routine. He woke up rather disoriented, because he wasn't at his own place. Just the realization that he was in his old room in his mother's home deflated the obligatory morning wood, and taking a refreshing shower after a jog through greater Crawfordville invigorated him. His mother made a breakfast big enough to feed four people, she seemed so happy to have him there. He felt like he was ten again.
After breakfast, Edward called Jasper's psychologist friend, Dr. Ira Levy, or rather his office, to set up an appointment. They had a cancellation on Wednesday morning, and Edward was glad that he was able to snag an appointment so soon. In Terre Haute he'd had to wait three weeks to get an appointment. He couldn't decide if it was a good or a bad omen. Talking to Dr. Levy would undoubtedly open up a chapter in his life that he thought was closed a long time ago, and he wasn't looking forward to revisiting any of the emotion associated with it. Fuck it. He had three days to mentally prepare for the onslaught. He would attack that shit like the devil dog that he was.
Oohrah!
If he kept his eye on the prize, he felt like he could do anything, including talk to that asshat, that biological lottery draw that was his father. Bella was more than worth it. She was worth going to hell and back just to get a chance at her; she was the epitome of everything he could ever desire.
He had never been interested in a woman before on this level. Not only did he love the sexy little package she came in, but he actually wanted to know everything about her. He wanted entrance into her mind, her intellect, her ability to see things through rose-colored glasses, even her faith in humanity. Her voice was like a melody playing in his mind. He could talk to her forever and not run out of words to say or tire of hearing her speak whatever was on her mind.
Bella definitely kept him on his toes because she didn't suffer fools or endure drama gladly. When she'd told him she was moving on after he'd taken all his marbles back and run home like a scared little boy, he had never seen her look so beautiful or wanted a woman more than at that moment. And that Cam Gigandet-looking motherfucker had capitalized on that shit. He'd called them "like-minded men" or some shit, like he was the end all and be all for Bella. Edward was certain that he and Bella had shared a powerful connection at Café Cabernet, and granted, he had ruined it like the motherfucker he was, but he was determined to turn that shit around, beginning today. It would be his new mission.
He had to do one other thing before he headed over to the Center. Might as well get that shit over with, too. He called Tanya. She acted all upset that he'd gone home from the party on Saturday night apart from her and hadn't bothered to call since then. He wanted to remind her that they didn't have that kind of relationship, but he decided he would say what he needed to say to her face to face, like the kind of man he was striving to be for Bella. She agreed to meet him at Panera Bread on the corner of Blairstone and Park Avenue before he reported for his shift.
It was not surprising that he arrived there first, so he ordered a coffee and found a table. Tanya made her grand entrance about ten minutes later. She sashayed over to the table in that unassuming runway model walk that she loved to taunt men with. Today, it didn't get the slightest rise out of him.
"Good morning, Edward," she cooed. She leaned in for a kiss, but he turned his head slightly and allowed her to barely brush his cheek. That shit pissed her off, and she put her hands on her hips and stared down at him.
"Hello, Tanya," he said. He did feel magnanimous enough to pull out a chair for her. She took the proffered seat and glared at him.
"What's with you, Edward?" She sat, taking great pains to cross her legs seductively, despite the fact that she was really supposed to be pissed off at him right now.
"Tanya." He decided to take the direct, rather than the circuitous route. "This is not working out. It's been fun, but I think we should call this off."
"You … you're dumping me?" Her tone was shrill. Some of the patrons in the restaurant turned to look at them.
"Let's not make a scene, Tanya," Edward said in an exasperated whisper. "Remember the ground rules we set. No strings. Either party can decide to call it off without advance notice and at the slightest provocation."
"You're doing this for that bitch who runs that ghetto fabulous after-school program for underprivileged brats aren't you?" she spat. "I saw how you were looking at her, Edward."
Edward's eyes hardened. "Bella is better than an infinite number of women like you, Tanya. Don't ever let me hear you say anything disparaging about her or the children in that program again."
Something in his eyes or the way he'd said it must have made Tanya realize he wasn't kidding because she started to say something, then expelled a huge frustrated sigh and just sat there, pouting angrily.
"Have you had breakfast?" he asked. He felt sorry for her. She would make some man a very handsome trophy wife and that would be the extent of her worth.
"No, I was just waking up when you called," she said, still visibly annoyed.
He stood, took a twenty out of his wallet, and laid it on the table.
"Buy yourself some breakfast, Tanya. It's on me," he said evenly and then walked out the door.
~888~
BPOV
Officer Cullen was waiting in the lot when Bella arrived at work on Monday. She became flushed when she saw him in all his sexy male glory because he was not the angry, drunken Edward from Saturday night. However, her discomfort at seeing him all crisp and handsome in his dark blues was exacerbated by the fact that she'd had another wacked out dream about him the night before. The dream had begun with her and James sharing chaste kisses and sweet caresses on the sofa in her parents' home, but in the midst of the dream, James had faded away and it became all white hot Edward. In a heartbeat, the dream had gone from lukewarm to steamy to a freaking seven-alarm fire.
She scolded herself when she awoke. What was wrong with her? A man who meets all of her criteria had fallen into her lap, one who made no qualms about being available and wanting the same things in life, and here she was still dreaming about Edward Cullen.
James was the model of an attentive boyfriend. She and James had texted one another early in the evening after he left, then she'd sent him the email with all the housing information he'd asked for, and he even called her to say thanks and goodnight. He was so sweet, yet here she was being disloyal to him in her dreams. Then she had a thought: she really was not tied to anyone right now. She was not even technically dating James yet, although the intent was there. Was it so wrong for her to fantasize about being with Edward Cullen?
Bella put on a beaming smile when she got out of the car, hoping to put Edward at ease. She didn't want him to think she harbored any ill feelings about Saturday night. She had promised herself that she would be his friend, and this meant being accepting of who he was and not projecting any judgment toward him.
After raking appreciatively across her form, his green eyes found hers and locked as they met on the sidewalk.
"Hey you," Bella said cheekily. "How about that party Saturday night?"
"I'm sure it was a lot more fun for those of us who didn't have to be assisted home afterwards," he snorted.
"Was that a fluke, or is that the normal party behavior for Edward Cullen?" Bella half-joked.
"Fluke, definitely. I have done a lot of things in exorbitant excess, but drinking isn't often one of them," he said wryly.
"Good," she said, shifting her purse and laptop straps onto her shoulder so she could unlock the door.
"Here, let me get that," he said, deftly taking the laptop and the key from her hand and opening the door. He stood aside for her to enter first.
Bella put her things down on her desk and turned to face him again.
"Have a seat," she offered and took hers behind the desk.
Edward set her laptop on the desk and folded himself into one of the chairs facing her desk, sitting toward the edge of the seat, resting his elbows on his knees, and steepling his hands, the tips of his fingers touching his bottom lip. He seemed deep in thought for a minute, and Bella organized her desk as she waited for him to say what he wanted to say.
"Bella, for some reason I keep finding myself in a position of having to apologize to you," he said as a preamble. His velvet voice was laced with sincerity. "My behavior at the party was atrocious. Will you forgive me?"
"Water under the bridge," she declared with a smile. "So, what did you do for the rest of the weekend?"
"Well, after I recovered from my first hangover since my leatherneck days," he said, smiling sheepishly, "I actually spent what was left of Sunday morning playing Debussy."
"Oh, that reminds me." She briefly caught her bottom lip with her teeth. "We need to get that old relic in the common area tuned." Then her eyes lit up. "Hey, would you play something for me?"
"Now?" he asked, his brows furrowing slightly. "On a poorly tuned piano?"
"Yes. Just one piece." She sprang up from her chair. "And I don't think it's hopelessly out of tune."
He followed her into the common area to the sad brown upright that was pushed into the corner. "You do understand that I am on duty right now," he said in half-hearted protest. Then he frowned. "And this has to be the ugliest piano I have ever seen." He chuckled heartily.
Bella giggled. "It is quite the eye-sore. But I have faith that you can make beautiful music on it, even if a few of the notes are tone deaf." She knew it was probably not advisable, but she used the pretty pout that Alice used on Jasper all the time. "Please, Edward."
His green eyes regarded hers softly. "As you wish, Bella."
Did Edward Cullen just say he loved me in "Princess Bride" speak?
Bella nervously folded her arms. She mentally shook her head as if to clear it. She then decided that she just seriously needed to stop drinking so many lattes in the morning before she came to work.
Edward sat on the stool and positioned himself. He played a major and minor scale. "This isn't as bad as it could be, but I can hear that a few keys are off just a hair and one quite a bit."
Hands resting lightly on her hips, she tapped her foot in mock impatience. "So, Maestro, what can you play for me?"
"I'll play Reverie, since I practiced it yesterday," he said amicably. And with that he launched into it.
Bella was enthralled at how graceful his long, sexy fingers were on the keys. She could see muscles rippling in his back underneath his shirt as his fingers made love to the ebony and ivory keys, and a lock of his bronze hair had fallen loosely onto his forehead. She wanted to reach over and run her fingers through that hair and smooth it back, but she resisted the urge.
He entered a zone where he closed his eyes and played, only softly touching the key that was horribly out of tune. Even with the Center's piano being substandard, Bella could tell that he was an extraordinary pianist. She closed her eyes, too, and got lost in the music, opening them again only when she realized he had stopped playing.
When she opened her eyes, he was looking up at her, his green eyes wistful.
A few seconds ticked by before she could speak. "Edward, even with that jacked up key that was … that was really beautiful," she said softly.
"Thanks, I think," he replied. A hint of that crooked smile was playing on his lips.
"Do you ever wish you had gone to college as a music major right out of high school and become a concert pianist? You could be touring the world, playing for heads of state … the whole nine." Bella suddenly felt the urge to feel his beautiful sculpted mouth on her own and she turned away, hoping he hadn't seen her ogling his mouth.
He slid off the piano bench and stood up. "That might have been my dream when I was ten, but circumstances didn't exactly allow me to 'hold fast the dream,' if you know what I mean."
"Yeah, that Zach Mayo existence … Hey you just paraphrased Langston Hughes, didn't you?" Bella smiled.
"Yeah, I guess I did." He ran his hand through his hair, pushing back the locks that had fallen forward onto his forehead. "I took an African American Literature class when I was at ISU."
Bella looked like she had another question.
"Don't ask," he said quickly, averting his eyes guiltily.
Bella looked at him thoughtfully.
He must have taken that class for a girl. Horndog.
She walked over to the closest window and started opening the blinds. She chose to resume her former line of questioning. "Why couldn't you come back here after you left your dad's?"
Edward went to the next window and opened the blinds. "Oh, well my mom was steeped in religious fanaticism back then. Her late husband was one of the leaders of this cult she became a part of just before my father left us. If I had come back to live with them then, either her husband or I would have died an untimely death." His jaw was tight, his lips pressed into a thin line.
She hesitated at the next window, looking up into his eyes. "It was that bad?"
"Marcus Volturi was a sadistic bastard, and my mother was so indoctrinated by the Church of the Greater Son, the life we lived was one of total manipulation and control. Had I remained there, I probably would have been more fu- screwed up than I am now."
"You don't see yourself very clearly, Edward." Bella pulled the blind cord on the final window. "I don't think you're as screwed up as you perceive yourself to be."
He smirked. "Tell that to some of the women I've dated."
"You mark my words, Edward Cullen. The right woman is going come along who will capture your heart so completely, you won't look back at your wild oat-sowing past." Bella was saying the words, but she didn't really want them to be true, not for any other woman.
"Is that what James has done for you, captured your heart?" he asked. She'd left herself wide open for that one.
"I guess that remains to be seen." She smiled coyly and led the way back to her office.
"Alice's parents are interested in making a donation to fund the concert and, depending on the size of the donation, maybe part of the festival on Memorial Day weekend," he said conversationally.
Bella faced him from the other side of her desk. "That's fantastic! I thought I was going to have to do some mega fundraising here in the next couple of weeks. Please let them know that they should talk to my dad or one of the Board members about the specifics. Carlisle and Esme are my heroes; I'll have to send them a nice card. How did you score a contribution from them? I'm surprised Alice didn't see …." Bella trailed off remembering that Edward didn't particularly care for Alice's prophetic gift.
"We had lunch together yesterday at my mom's. They were already considering unloading some charitable funds. They like the work you do here, Bella. And now that Alice and I have a part in it, it was a natural choice. So, Alice has been practicing her art of divination around here?" He smirked knowingly.
"Not exactly around here," Bella said smoothly. "She tends to share more with people one on one." And with that, she changed the subject.
They discussed the logistics of the concert and mutually agreed that it would take place in a couple of weeks in the common area. Bella assured Edward that they would, with Alice's mad interior design and decorating skills, transform the common area into a magical place for the children to enjoy an evening of Debussy's music. When Edward inquired if patrons of the center could attend, Bella was all for it. She even decided that they would invite other patrons to showcase what the children had learned about Debussy over the past several weeks.
The volunteers began to arrive as they finished brainstorming the concert details. Alice was the last volunteer on the premises, and she made for Bella's office when she saw Edward sitting there.
"Hey, Boss. Hey, Edward," she said, grinning widely at them.
"Alice," Edward said in greeting.
"You are just the person I need to talk to," Bella said, smiling.
Edward took that opportunity to extricate himself from what was about to become a discussion of decorating concepts, seating charts, and lighting.
He stood up as Alice plopped down in the other chair next to him. "I guess I'll leave you ladies to your event planning and begin my patrol."
Bella's eyes sought his one last time before he left. "Hey, thanks Edward," she said sincerely. It was almost as if she didn't want him to leave.
"Anytime," he said cheerfully as he strode out the door.
Alice's eyes narrowed as she watched their exchange.
When Edward was out of hearing range, Bella looked at Alice. "What?"
"You two looked pretty chummy in here," Alice said suspiciously.
"Yeah, we were chummily discussing Debussy and the concert your cousin was gracious enough to offer to do for the children here, which is why I wanted to see you. You are the chief designer and decorator for this soiree, so you need to get your butt in gear and your thinking cap on." Bella knew that talk of planning for the event would distract Alice for hours, maybe even days.
Alice's eyes lit up with sheer glee; it was an eyegasm of the highest magnitude.
Bella smirked. "I knew that would get your attention."
~888~
EPOV
When the children were safely home and the volunteers were headed out, Edward sat in his cruiser to wait for Bella and Alice to clear the building before he went on his next perimeter sweep. They came out, Alice chattering away and Bella listening intently. He would bet a very large sum of money that it was about the upcoming events, either the concert, the festival, or both. Alice was relentless when party, event, or holiday planning of any type became her pet project. Bella looked like she needed to be rescued.
He got out of the car and ambled over to them.
"Hey, Edward." Alice pounced quickly on him with her ideas. "We really want this concert to be an elegant affair, because the children really don't get a chance to experience anything like this. So, here's the thing. We're going to dress the common area up like an auditorium; we'll even have risers on which to place the chairs for a theatre-like appearance. We'll have drapes hung around the cinderblock walls, and I'm going to refinish that piano in there and have it tuned, so it'll play perfectly for you. Now I'm going to need your measurements, so we can fit you for a tux, OK?"
Bella crossed her eyes and hung her tongue out of the side of her mouth as if to say, "Alice is killing me, rescue me Edward, please."
"Alice." Edward chuckled. "A tux? Really, I thought I'd just wear a nice pair of slacks and a shirt."
"You're going to be Debussy for the evening; you have to dress the part. Duh."
"I thought we were doing an afternoon performance?" Edward was perplexed.
"If we're going to be in evening wear, we can't very well do it in the afternoon, now can we?" Alice rolled her eyes in an exasperated manner.
Bella added sarcastically, "No, we can't very well do that."
"Anyway, I reminded Bella that our youth group is having a scavenger hunt Saturday afternoon, so the concert has to be in the evening," Alice said as if hers was the only logical plan.
"Alright," Edward said diplomatically. "I'll wear the monkey suit. And bring your torturing implements with you tomorrow and we'll allow you to have your way with us in the common area before the other volunteers and the kids arrive. Right, Bella?"
He and Bella doubled over laughing.
Alice scowled, looking at them both as if she could kill them. She turned and stalked away to her car as quickly as her little legs could carry her.
They watched transfixed as she got into her car and zoomed away.
"Edward Cullen, if your off-color joke has put me in the doghouse with my best friend, I am going to borrow Alice's torturing devices, and believe me it will not be pretty," Bella warned.
"I would happily submit to any form of torture you can dream up, Ms. Swan." He smirked. Bella realized that his reply was laced with innuendo and blushed profusely.
Damn she was gorgeous. He began to play "Taps" in his head at warp speed. How fucking embarrassing would it be to spring a boner standing right in front of her in the Center parking lot?
Bella bit her bottom lip nervously and then smiled weakly. "Um ... see you tomorrow then, Edward?"
"Absolutely."
He reached for her laptop, and it startled her slightly, but she allowed him to take it from her shoulder. He then fell in step with her as she walked over to her car, pressing the keyless entry when they were a few feet from the driver's side door. She threw her purse and briefcase in and reached for the laptop. He released it into her hand and their fingers brushed together. Edward realized that his visceral reaction to her might, for the first time ever, override his "Taps" trick. If that was possible, heaven help him. This woman would truly be the death of him.
She licked her lips nervously; Edward couldn't help but follow the movement of her pink tongue brushing across them as if in slow motion. Her beautiful lips, the color of dusky rose petals and slightly swollen, were in desperate need of a thorough kissing in his opinion. He wanted to kiss her so badly he could already taste it. When words began to come out of her mouth again, he abandoned his fantasy and engaged his brain again.
"Thanks again for doing the concert. Alice really has some great ideas. If we give her free rein she can really make it special for the children." She slid into the car and started the engine.
He held her door for a moment while looking down into those gorgeous pools of molten chocolate. "Anything for you ... and Alice and the children." He smiled, shut her car door, and backed away. He watched her until she rounded the corner of the building and he couldn't see her anymore.
Fuck! Not only was he going to have to take the longest cold shower in history, but he might also need to sit his ass in a sub zero freezer and watch a fucking chick flick.
~888~
BPOV
Bella chastised herself again on her way home. Edward Cullen was making her lose focus. Just a touch from his hand had almost rendered her into a puddle of Jell-O. Was he a demon sent to torment her? A test of her resolve like poor Job had endured at the height of his faith? Maybe he was the male counterpart of Hosea's wife? Hosea had been commanded by God to marry a whore to demonstrate how God remained faithful even when we were faithless and whored ourselves out to every false god or wind of doctrine that came along. Was Edward her Hosea's wife? Now that she had a perfectly wonderful guy who matched every one of her ideals, why wasn't she able to push Edward Cullen out of the crevices of her mind?
Bella was lying on her sofa after having consumed a helping of chicken tetrazzini that she'd whipped up, and topped that off with a glass of white wine. She had watched some stupid reality show on television before she got tired and turned it off, then read several more chapters of Pride and Prejudice before she saw James' name and number pop up on her cell phone as Claire de Lune brought her head out of the book.
"Hello, Bella." He sounded so happy to be talking to her.
"James," Bella said, equally determined to be happy. "How's the packing going?"
"Ugh, painstakingly slow," he said truthfully. "However, in my defense, I've got things here in my apartment, and things at my parent's house that we have to cull out before making the big move. I kid you not; my mother hasn't thrown away anything since I was born."
Bella laughed. "Bless you. I don't even want to think about what my mother has stored for me in their attic. I was on a mission trip the last time my parents moved. Thank God for small miracles."
"I wanted to call you or text you all day today, but I knew you would be planning in the morning and busy at the center in the afternoon."
Bella shifted position on the sofa and was now lying flat on her tummy resting on her elbows. She flipped aimlessly through Pride and Prejudice as they were talking. "We were swamped at the Center today. Officer Cullen is going to play in a Debussy concert we have planned for the children."
"Talk about hidden talent," he said jokingly. "I had written him off as a hard-partying former frat boy or something."
Bella jumped to Edward's defense. "Judgmental much, James?"
"Yeah, that wasn't fair. I've only met the man once. I shouldn't allow our first meeting to completely impugn my impression of him."
"It's just that Officer Cullen is a man who has been through a lot, not unlike yourself. And I won't go into it any further because it's his personal business. Suffice it to say, he just hasn't dealt with all of his issues, yet. He is an extremely good liaison, and it's a bonus for us that he is compassionate, hard-working, and goes above and beyond the call of duty. He's even mentoring two thirteen-year-olds on his own time. Some of his life experiences will certainly be inspirational to them."
"Then I humbly take back what I said. I know you are an impeccable judge of character, Bella." His remorse was genuine, and his frankness was even more so. "I just get the feeling that if he were to show even a fraction of interest my goose would be cooked."
Bella wanted to reassure him, but it was difficult. "James, if Edward had been of that inclination, it would have happened by now. He has a girlfriend, and now I've got you."
"I can't wait to get back to Tallahassee. I want to take you out properly, and I want us to really get to know one another, Bella."
"Same here," she said shyly. "So, did any of those apartments look appealing to you?"
~888~
A/N: Review now so you can help decide James' fate. I know that there are hundreds of people reading this story. If this chapter gets at least 50 reviews, I'll poll the reviews and let you tell me what should happen to James.
you want him to stay good and be humanely dumped by Bella, or
you want him to be bad and force Bella to viciously dump him?
You decide, and you can't vote if you don't review. And you don't get to decide if I don't get at least 50 reviews. Come on, review me. You know you wanna.
The Princess Bride is an American 1987 film based on the 1973 novel of the same name by William Goldman. The movie was directed by Rob Reiner from a screenplay by Goldman. A beautiful young woman named Buttercup (Robin Wright) lives on a farm in the fictional country of Florin. She delights in ordering the farm hand Westley (Cary Elwes) to perform chores for her. Westley's only answer is "As you wish." Eventually Buttercup realizes he really means "I love you", and she admits her love for him. When the lovely Buttercup is kidnapped by a ghastly gang intent on fermenting an international incident they find they are pursued by the Dread Pirate Roberts who just might be Westley, her one true love. Also after everyone is nasty Prince Humperdinck to whom Buttercup is now betrothed but who seems to care little for her continued survival. The stage is set for swordfights, monsters, and tortures.
James Mercer Langston Hughes, (February 1, 1902 – May 22, 1967) was an American poet, novelist, playwright, short story writer, and columnist. He was one of the earliest innovators of the new literary art form jazz poetry. Hughes is best-known for his work during the Harlem Renaissance.