Author Note: Thank you for the great response so far! I do have to say that I'm baffled at how many think Bella is so pushy when Edward is the one who came to her in the last chapter! She's approached him twice in three months, once to apologize and once to drop off a gift for Masen.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

Chapter 12 – Before the Rain

Ten days after my failed adventures in Googling, I come home to find Edward's SUV parked in his driveway. Finally, he's home! I consider stopping by to say hi, but decide against it. I don't want to seem too anxious to see him.

By the time I'm about to leave to meet the girls at the diner, I'm too curious about Chicago and decide to stop by anyway to invite him to come out with us. I imagine he doesn't have any food in his house after two and a half weeks away, unless he stopped at the Thriftway on his way home.

When Edward opens the door, I'm startled by his appearance. He has a few days' growth of beard and dark circles under his eyes that make him look a bit like a vampire. Has he even slept since he left Forks?

"Hi, Bella," he says quietly.

"Welcome back!" I greet him warmly. "I, um, saw your car when I got home. I was just headed out to dinner with the girls and wondered if you and Masen would like to come out with us?"

He sighs, running his hand through his hair as he leans against the door jamb. "I don't think I'd be very good company right now."

"You look exhausted," I note, hoping he isn't insulted.

"I feel exhausted. I've been trying to take a nap since I got home, but I can't get Masen to settle down."

"Maybe I could take him for a few hours?" I suggest. "Give you a chance to get some rest."

"I-I don't want to impose, but… I'd really like that." He must really be exhausted if he didn't even argue with me.

"You're not imposing if it's my idea," I tease him.

"Well, then come on in for a minute." I follow Edward inside, where he picks up Masen's diaper bag from the kitchen table and hands it to me. "I never unpacked it. There should be a jar or two of baby food inside. He can have the milk from the diner. You should take my car, I guess? The car seat is kind of a bear to move, and I already fought with it twice today."

"That's fine," I nod.

Once Edward has put Masen's coat on, he carries his son outside and straps him into the car seat while I adjust the driver's seat until I can actually reach the gas pedal. I never realized Edward's legs were quite so long! I don't bother adjusting the mirrors for the short trip.

"He usually goes to bed around eight," Edward says, "but I'm sure he's mixed up from the time change and the long nap on the car ride home from SeaTac."

"I can keep him a bit longer than that, it's no problem. Get some sleep, Edward. I hope you feel better."

"Thanks." He gives me a small smile, waving as he steps away from the car.

After backing out of the driveway, I make the short trip to the diner, then try to figure out the buckles to get Masen out of the car seat. Maybe I should've watched Edward earlier.

I know Masen can walk, but to avoid having to wrangle him if he tries to run away from me, I carry him into the diner, the diaper bag slung over my other arm. "Look who I've brought!" I greet my friends brightly when I spot their booth.

"Oh my gosh, is that Masen?" Alice exclaims.

"Yep! Edward and Masen came back from Chicago today. Edward wasn't feeling up to going out, so I volunteered to watch this little one to give him a chance to take a nap."

"We should probably move to a table then," Alice suggests, sliding out of the booth. While she pulls over one of the high chairs, a waitress slides the fourth chair away from the table to make room. I smile at her in thanks as I attempt to get Masen settled in the high chair and take his coat off. I pull a couple of small toys out of the bag to hopefully keep him occupied, along with a jar of baby food.

"Let me sit next to him," Angela proposes. "I could use the practice feeding a baby."

"Didn't you used to do a lot of babysitting when you were growing up?" I remember Angela telling me about watching the unruly kids during her father's sermons.

"Yeah, but I usually just gave the little ones bottles."

"Masen, this is Angela and Alice," I introduce them. "Can you say their names?"

"Aaarrr!" I can't help laughing; he kind of sounds like a pirate.

"He is just a doll!" Alice squeals. "Oh my God. And he looks a lot like his Uncle Jasper, too."

I chuckle. "I think he looks like his daddy. I forget you guys haven't met Masen before, have you?"

"No, we haven't — at least I haven't," she confirms.

"I haven't either," Angela says. "Masen's always been inside when I've been by the house."

Once we've placed our orders, Angela opens the jar of baby food and starts to feed Masen while we wait for our meals. "So, you said earlier that Edward wasn't up to going out. Is he sick?" she asks.

"I don't think so. He just looks like he hasn't slept in two weeks. Alice, have you gotten anything out of Jasper about their trip?"

"No," she sighs. "Not that I've tried all that hard. When I last spoke to him Monday, he seemed kind of stressed. I assumed it was work related, but maybe it wasn't."

I frown. "Well, maybe Edward will talk to me at some point. From the way he looks, it must be something big."

After dinner, I drive Edward's SUV back home, then bring Masen into my house with me. It's been nearly 10 years since my teenage babysitting days, and I don't own any toddler-oriented DVDs, but I find something on TV that seems to fascinate him enough to allow me to get a bit of work done, sitting beside him on the couch.

When he finally falls asleep around nine, I text Edward to make sure he's awake, then carefully lay Masen over my shoulder and carry him next door.

"Thanks, Bella," Edward whispers, taking his son from me.

"Are you feeling more rested?" He looks slightly better.

He shrugs. "A bit. Just those few hours helped."

"Why don't you call Alice's mom and see if maybe she can watch Masen for you tomorrow? I'd be happy to do it, but I have school."

"I might do that," he nods. "Thanks, again. I'm gonna see if I can get him undressed without waking him."

"I'll text you when I get home tomorrow and see how you're doing, OK?"

He smiles in response and I wave as I head back home.

As promised, I text Edward when I get home from work on Friday, but he doesn't respond for two hours. Upon learning that all he's eaten all day was a Pop Tart, I invite him over for dinner. I have some leftover chicken from earlier this week which I decide to shred as a filling for enchiladas.

Edward knocks on my door shortly after I've gotten dinner in the oven. "Hey," I greet him, noticing right away that he's alone. "Did you take my advice and call Alice's mom?" I'm happy to see that he looks much better than last night, though he still hasn't shaved. And he's wearing sweatpants.

"Yeah," he nods as he steps inside. "She was able to pick up Masen around noon, after an appointment this morning. I think I'm mostly recovered now; I really needed today to myself. I asked her to bring Masen by around seven, to try to get him back on schedule, so I can't stay very long after dinner."

"Oh, right." I try not to sound as disappointed as I feel. "You can have a seat at the table; dinner will be ready in about 10 minutes."

"Thanks, Bella. Mom would have a fit if she knew I haven't been taking care of myself."

"And she should," I tease him. "Did you stay with your parents when you were in Chicago?" I may or may not be trying to subtly steer the topic to his trip.

"Yeah," he nods.

"Did… everything go OK there?" I ask tentatively.

He swallows thickly, nodding. "It was nerve-wracking for a while, but in the end we got what we wanted."

"Oh-kay?" I'm confused by his comment, having no idea why he was there.

"I'm sorry, Bella, I'm not ready to talk about it. Not… not during dinner. Not if I don't want to ruin my appetite."

I smile softly. "I understand. Well, you haven't missed much here. It's Forks; nothing much ever happens," I chuckle.

"The girls and I enjoyed spending time with Masen last night," I continue. "Angela got a chance to practice feeding a toddler. You know I don't mind babysitting him for you any time you need me to, but next time remind me to grab one of your kiddie DVDs."

"Deal," he smiles. "I know I need to let go and take a bit more time for myself. Mom is worried about me not having much of a life of my own."

When the oven timer goes off, I grab dinner from the oven, spooning two enchiladas onto each of our plates. "Nothing fancy," I apologize as I set one plate in front of Edward.

"Better than I can do."

"If you want, I could teach you to make it sometime. It's really not that difficult. I don't have any special ninja cooking skills," I chuckle.

"I'd like that," he smiles. "Even though I was a stay-at-home dad for six months, Bree always cooked dinner when she got home. Or she'd pick up takeout if she didn't feel like cooking. She kept saying she was going to teach me to at least get something started in our slow cooker, but… well, we never got around to that."

Once we've finished eating, Edward has time to help me wrap up the leftovers and load the dishwasher before he needs to get back to his house to meet Mrs. Brandon.

"Do you have plans for the rest of night?" he asks as I walk him to the front door.

"Should I?" I laugh. If I had any plans, I probably wouldn't have been cooking dinner for him!

He shrugs. "Maybe… after Masen goes to bed, you can come over and we can talk?"

"Talk?" I repeat dumbly.

"About why I had to go back to Chicago."

"Oh!" My eyes widen. "I'd really like that, Edward. Text me once he's asleep."

"Deal," he nods.

Despite my best efforts not to, I wait on pins and needles for that text. When it comes, I take a deep breath, reminding myself not to appear too eager. I'm dying to hear whatever Edward is willing to tell me, but I understand that it might not yet be everything.

"Hey," he greets me, holding the door open. "Do you want a beer?"

"I'll pass, thanks."

"Well, I need one."

Smiling, I head into the living room, moving aside one of Masen's stuffed animals to have a seat on the couch. Edward follows me into the room not 30 seconds later, taking his seat on the far end of the couch. He takes a long sip from his bottle before setting it on the end table. He looks positively green.

"You don't have to do this," I remind him.

"I know," he whispers. "But it's time, I think. You've been a good friend to me, even when I've pushed you away. I never deliberately kept it from everyone in Forks, but it's just difficult to talk about. I've already told the story twice now in the last two weeks. It'll be easier the third time… I hope, anyway."

I look at him questioningly.

He picks up the stuffed bear, turning it over and over in his hands, but he doesn't speak. I wonder if he doesn't know how to begin. Maybe I should prompt him?

"Edward… earlier, you said you got what you wanted in Chicago. What was it you wanted?"

The seconds tick by as I wait for him speak. Just when I think he's not going to, he opens his mouth.

"I wanted… to see the man responsible for my wife's death convicted."

"Oh!" I exclaim, my eyes widening. Bree was murdered? Then why couldn't I find anything when I Googled her name? Or does he mean "responsible" in that perhaps she was killed in a car accident that someone else caused? Still, I should've found something.

"And… he was found guilty?" I whisper, hoping that that's what he's trying to say.

He nods. "Yeah, the jury's decision came back Wednesday. The sentencing will be in a few months, so I may have to go there again. Not really looking forward to that." I wait for him to continue instead of pushing him. "Chicago is… I can't relax. I can't sleep without having nightmares. Every fucking night. I know it would only be for a day or two for sentencing, but… I don't know if I can go through that again."

"That's why you were so tired," I realize. Poor Edward. No matter how Bree was killed, I can't even imagine the horrible memories he must have.

He nods. "After the first few days, I stayed awake until I nearly collapsed."

"And that's why you moved away from Chicago last summer."

"Yeah," he sighs, picking up his beer for a long drink. "I think it was right after the funeral that I knew I couldn't stay there anymore. I had the nightmares then too, but I was hoping that they'd get better with time."

Slowly, I reach out, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it. "Will you tell me what happened?" I ask gently.

He looks at me, nodding. "I will tell you; I just have to psych myself up for it."

"Take all the time you need, Edward."

"This part is hard," Edward whispers, pulling at his hair. "I need to start back a little further than that day so you understand."

"Start wherever you want."

A/N: Does this count as a cliffhanger?

So we don't know yet exactly how Bree died, except that it was some sort of crime. And we know that Edward basically ran away from Chicago due to his nightmares.

The rest of the story is coming on Monday. It's not at all a well-known Duran Duran song, but the title is kind of morbid humor, from the prior decade. Teaser if you can guess it.