Author Note: Again, quite a response to the last chapter! Readers seem to be split though, with some blaming both of them, some angry with Edward for being harsh with Bella, and some angry with Bella because they believe she took advantage of him.
I have to say, I hadn't expected that reaction at all. Given that we're in Bella's head for the scene, I see nothing in there that indicates any kind of intent to take advantage of the poor drunk widower. She doesn't know that he's grieving his wife, since she has assumed all along that he was divorced or separated. She'd also been having a coherent conversation with Edward outside just a few minutes earlier; he isn't blackout drunk as his comment in the morning indicates.
Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.
Chapter 7 – My Own Way
Halloween is my favorite holiday. I know that might sound weird, but I just love dressing up in a fancy costume and walking into my classroom to see how all of my students have dressed up. I've had my costume — Queen Elsa from Frozen — purchased for several weeks, but this year when the big day comes around, I'm not really feeling it.
You see, Halloween also marks two weeks since I've spoken to Edward.
I do my best to forget about Edward and put a smile on my face at school. In the afternoon, the elementary school students parade down Forks Avenue in their costumes, and as is tradition, all of the store owners come outside to watch and wave.
I leave my costume on when I get home so that I can answer the door for the trick-or-treaters as Elsa; the blond wig is really getting itchy though. Once I've finished dinner, I turn on my porchlight and get my bowl of mini candy bars ready. I'd like to bake homemade treats for the kids, but even in a small town like Forks, parents are always worried that they'll be poisoned.
As I pass out the candy to one batch of children after another, I can't resist peeking over toward Edward's house. His light isn't on; I don't know why I expected it to be. I wonder if he even knows about the trick-or-treating tonight. I wonder if he bought a costume for Masen — though obviously he's too young to eat any of the candy. Still, I think most modern parents like to dress up their young children just for the photo op.
I wait until 15 minutes after the designated ending time before turning out my porchlight. I still have a handful of candy left. I usually bring it into my classroom for my students but I wonder about taking it over to Edward.
No. He'll see right through me. It's only been two weeks; I can be patient a while longer.
The weekend before Thanksgiving — five weeks since I last spoke to Edward — my patience finally runs out. I just can't stand the thought of Edward and Masen spending the holiday alone. Given what Edward has told me about his cooking ability, he'll probably have a frozen turkey dinner, and that's unacceptable in my book.
My dad and I have been spending Thanksgiving with the Brandons for as long as I can remember. After double checking with Alice's mom that she can handle another mouth to feed — especially since Sue, Leah and Seth will be there this year — I decide to invite Edward to spend the day with us.
I wait until an hour after Masen's usual bedtime before putting on my coat and heading next door. I ring the doorbell, then stuff my hands into my pockets while I wait. As the seconds tick by, I begin to worry that Edward will know it's me and pretend he's not home, though I can see his car in the driveway. The front door doesn't have a peephole, but still… I worry.
I'm startled when the door swings open. Edward looks shocked to see me for a moment, but then leans casually against the door frame. He doesn't speak.
"Um, hi," I begin nervously. Shit, I should've memorized a speech or something. "Um, I-I wanted to invite you to Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday with me — and my family. Um, and Alice's family. I can't stand the thought of you and Masen all alone."
He stares at me for a moment before licking his lips. "My parents are coming tomorrow."
"Oh!" I exclaim in surprise, my eyes widening.
"They're staying for the week. Mom couldn't stand the thought of us alone either," he adds with a small smile.
"That's… good. Great. I'm glad you'll have something better than a frozen dinner to eat." And I really am, even if I'm disappointed that he won't be spending the holiday with me. I mean us.
"Right," he nods. "Yeah, so…" He shrugs, taking a small step backwards, as if to close the door.
Frowning, I realize I'm being dismissed. I turn around, taking two steps before pausing. "I'm sorry," I blurt out, before he can't hear me anymore.
I listen for the sound of the door closing, and when it doesn't come, I slowly turn back around. Edward takes his hand off the door, crossing his arms in front of himself, and I take that as a sign that he's willing to listen to what I have to say.
"I'm sorry," I repeat. "I… it's no excuse, but… I truly believed that you and your wife—"
"Bree," he interrupts.
"Bree," I repeat, nodding. "I truly believed that you and Bree had split up. It had never occurred me — to any of us — that she could be… dead That you were grieving." I want to ask him what happened, but I sense that now isn't the right time. "You were drunk, and… I should've realized… I should've stopped you.
"I miss you," I continue. "I miss your company on Sunday nights. I miss the friendship we were forming. I miss watching Masen grow."
Edward begins shaking his head before I'm done speaking. "It's better if we aren't friends."
I frown, confused. "What does that even mean? Better for whom?"
"For both of us. I-I'm sorry too."
I stand in shock as Edward takes a step backwards, until he's able to close to the door. Staring at the closed door, I wonder if this could possibly have gone any worse.
Tuesday is the last day of school before our three-day Thanksgiving break. I pull into my driveway just as a well-dressed couple who appear to be in their 50s get out of a Town Car parked in front of Edward's house. Slamming my car door, I stand watching for a moment as they lift the trunk and begin pulling out several plastic bags.
Without another moment's hesitation, I walk up to them. "Need any help?"
"Oh, hello," the woman smiles at me. This must be Edward's mother; she shares his coloring almost exactly. "That would be great. Could you get the turkey? I don't want Carlisle to throw his back out again."
"Hey," he exclaims good-naturedly.
"Of course," I chuckle, lifting the double-bagged turkey. Good lord, it must weigh over 20 pounds! If it's really just the three of them, Edward will be eating leftovers for a week.
"It's not frozen," I note, putting a hand underneath the bag so it doesn't break.
"Never!" the woman says, a look of disgust on her face. "I only buy fresh turkeys."
Carlisle manages to close the trunk lid with his arm, then we begin walking up the stairs onto Edward's porch. He must have heard us coming, because he opens the door just in time. I try not to glance at him as I walk past him into the house.
Setting the bag down on the kitchen table, I move to open the fridge, but Edward beats me to it. "I've got it," he says, moving a couple of things around until there's room for the turkey. I set it on the shelf, then begin helping his mother find the other perishable items in the bags.
"Oh!" she exclaims. "I'm so sorry I didn't introduce myself. I'm Esme Cullen, Edward's mother, and this is his father, Carlisle."
"It's nice to meet you both." I shake both of their hands warmly. "I'm Bella Swan; I live next door."
"Are you and Edward friends?"
"Ma," he says in a warning tone. "Yes, I've gone out with Bella and several of her friends."
"Good," she says with a wide smile. "I hate to think of you isolating yourself." I decide it's better to keep my mouth shut about that one.
"Thank you for the help, Bella," Carlisle says. "I think Esme practically bought out the Thriftway."
"It's no problem," I assure him with a smile.
"Do you have plans for Thanksgiving, dear?" his wife asks, and I start to understand Edward's earlier reaction a bit more. She almost appears to be matchmaking.
"I do. My dad and I have spent the holiday with good friends of the family for many years. I will be baking the pies tomorrow," I add with a laugh. "That's the only thing Mrs. Brandon will let me bring."
"Thanks again, Bella," Edward says, and once more I get the feeling I'm being dismissed.
"I'll see you later, Edward," I reply for his parents' sake. "Nice to meet you, Dr. and Mrs. Cullen."
I quickly head out to the foyer, before his mother can make another matchmaking attempt. I'm not sure I could take feeling rejected by Edward one more time.
My hands full of the three pies I baked, I use my elbow to ring the Brandons' doorbell on Thursday afternoon.
"Bella!" Carolyn greets me, opening the door so I can step inside. She leads me into the kitchen — which smells amazing — hugging me as soon as I've set the pies down on the counter.
"Do you need any help cooking?" I ask, though I already know her response.
"Oh no," she waves her hand, "I've got it. You can wait in the living room with the others. Your dad isn't here yet," she adds, though I'd already guessed as much when I didn't see his cruiser parked out front.
I find Alice seated on the loveseat, while her older sister, Cynthia, and her family take up the couch and her dad rests in his usual recliner. "Hey, Alice," I greet her as I plop down beside her.
"Hi! What kind of pies did you bake this year?" she asks eagerly, making me roll my eyes.
"Pumpkin, apple and a new recipe for coconut cream."
"Mmmm… sounds amazing, as always."
Just then, something happens in the football game, making her dad yell at the TV, even though it's not even the Seahawks playing. We all turn our attention to the game for a few minutes, until Alice turns to me during one of the commercials.
"So… I guess you couldn't convince Edward to come for dinner."
"No," I reply, "but he's not alone. His parents showed up last weekend; I met them on Tuesday."
"Interesting," she murmurs. "Just his parents? Edward said he has two brothers, right?"
"Right," I nod. "He only mentioned his parents, and I didn't see anyone else."
"So how did he take it when you invited him? Or did his parents arrive before you got a chance?"
"He… well, he wasn't rude, exactly. Just kind of dismissive. He let me know that his parents were coming and assumed that was the end of the conversation.
"I apologized," I confess quietly, not really wanting Alice's dad to overhear — though he seems to be engrossed in the football game again. "And… he said it's better if we aren't friends."
Alice wrinkles her nose. "What an odd thing to say!"
"I know, right?"
The doorbell ringing effectively ends our conversation. Knowing it must be my father, I yell out, "I'll get it!" before getting up to answer the door.
"Hey, Dad," I greet him, motioning for him to step inside, followed by Sue, Leah and Seth.
"Charlie!" Carolyn calls out, stepping out of the kitchen to hug him warmly. "I'm so glad you could make it, welcome," she says to Sue and her kids. "Now you guys just get settled in the living room until dinner is ready. It should only be about 10 more minutes."
After I make all of the introductions, Alice and I move to the floor so that my dad and Sue can take the loveseat.
"How was school this week, Bells?" Dad asks.
I roll my eyes dramatically. "It was only two days, but it felt like about 20! The kids were all so ready for the break to get here. It was tough to hold their concentration for their lessons."
"I don't know how you can stand a classroom full of first graders," Leah says. "I think I'd lose my mind."
"Most of the time they're really great," I reply with a smile. "I love getting them at such an impressionable age. I feel like I can really make a difference."
"I am never having children," she says, shaking her head. "No, thank you. Little monsters, all of them. You should see the damage they can cause at the store." I try not to grimace, hoping that Alice's sister, Cynthia, who's sitting with her well-behaved four-year-old son, isn't offended.
Once dinner is ready, we all crowd into the dining room. Mrs. Brandon has added a leaf to the table so there is just enough room for all of us. After she leads us in saying grace, we each pick up the closest dish and begin filling our plates.
"How old are you, Seth?" Mrs. Brandon asks as we eat.
He swallows quickly. "Sixteen, Ma'am. I'll be 17 in three more months. I'm a junior at the high school on the rez."
"You mentioned a store earlier, Leah?" Cynthia asks. Damnit, I was hoping she hadn't heard that conversation.
"I work at the Thriftway," she replies.
"I'll bet you had a busy week," Carolyn says with a smile.
"The worst," she confirms. "Like, how much food do people need for one day? And where do all of the people come from? Seriously, a couple I'd never seen before in my life came and bought a bunch of food on Tuesday."
"Oh?" her mother asks, and I think I know who she's talking about.
Leah nods. "They were a bit older than you — really fancy, well-dressed. Not the type you usually see in Forks."
And now I'm sure I know who she's talking about. I clear my throat. "That was probably Edward Cullen's parents. I saw them unloading a bunch of bags from the Thriftway just as I got home on Tuesday."
"His parents?" Sue asks.
I nod. "They came to make sure he wasn't spending the holiday alone."
"Any sign of his ex-wife? Surely she must get some visitation."
I sit silently for a moment, waiting for someone else to speak up. Alice must have told her mother about Edward's wife. But when Alice gives me a slight shake of her head, I realize that she hasn't.
"Um… I found out last month that Edward's wife died."
"Oh!" Carolyn exclaims, bringing her hand up to her chest. "Why, I had no idea! He never said a thing."
"None of us did," I confirm.
"That poor man. And the little boy! Do you know what happened to her?"
"I don't," I shake my head. "It's obviously difficult for him, so I didn't ask for more than he volunteered."
"I don't know what I would've done without my friends and family after Harry died," Sue comments. "It's great that Edward's parents were able to come spend the holiday with him and his son, but why would he move so far away from them?"
"I'm not sure of that myself." I frown, picking up my glass of water. Yes, why did Edward choose to move across the country after his wife's death?
A/N: So, Bella's patience ran out after five weeks and she apologized, but Edward said it's better if they aren't friends. Where have we heard that before? :)
That didn't stop Bella from being a nice neighbor and helping out his parents with their groceries. We'll meet the rest of Edward's family in the next chapter. Any theories on why he moved so far away from Chicago?
Next update on Thursday.