Chapter 40.
The drive is brutal. Tedious. With nothing other than my thoughts to keep me awake, I drive through the night, and my mom keeps me company on the phone through the morning until I make it to Forks around noon.
Forks, Washington is a tiny town of less than four thousand people, so I find the one police station easily.
It's raining heavily when I get out of the Jeep, and a police officer just happens to be coming down the steps of the wooden cabin.
"I'm looking for Charlie Swan," I say to the guy, who stops in front of me. He has his jacket over his head. I'm getting soaked. Only then do I notice the name sewn onto his uniform.
C. Swan.
It stings a little.
"Who's asking?" He smiles under his mustache.
"I'm Edward Cullen, sir." I extend my hand to him. "I'm a friend of Bella's. Do you have a minute to talk?"
"Is Bella okay?" His face transforms with worry, while he shakes my hand in an automated fashion.
"She's okay, yes." I don't want to worry him. Not yet.
"Oh…" He shakes my hand. "Phew! I thought you were a bill collector or something." He laughs loudly, clasping a hand on my shoulder. "Or that you were about to serve me with papers."
"What?" I ask in confusion.
"It's a joke, son." He pushes me in the direction of the cruiser I parked next to. "Relax." He pats my back, opening the door for me. "Let's get out of the rain, yes?"
I get in the car and he closes the door behind me, rounding the front in a rush and getting in the driver's seat in the next couple of seconds.
Then I'm in a police car. With Charlie Swan.
"You look like a drowned rat!" He chuckles, reaching into the back seat, then handing me a T-shirt.
"I'm sorry, yes." I dry myself as best as I can with it, hoping I'm not making his seat wet.
"So you're a friend of Bella's?"
"Yes, sir." Or at least I used to be.
"Please, call me Charlie, son." He starts the car, turning to look at me. "You a cheer boy?"
"Uh..yeah, I guess."
"Tell you what, I just finished my shift, and I'm starving. I've been up all night, too. I should have the best fish fry waiting for me at home. So how about we talk there?"
"Okay, yes. Thank you." I notice his eyes then. They're brown, warm, and friendly like Bella's. "I can follow you home if that's okay."
"Sure thing. See if you can keep up." He pats my shoulder as I have my hand on the handle. Another joke, I think. When he laughs again, I smile.
Then I'm following Charlie Swan's police cruiser to his home.
It only takes a few minutes to get to the two-story house with white panels and blue shutters. We both rush out of the cars and through the door.
I don't know what I expected his house would be like, but it almost brings me to my knees.
There are pictures of Bella everywhere.
Up on the walls. In picture frames on every surface. I recognize some of her drawings too. Some are taped on the walls, others framed.
Her presence is in every inch of the house.
Charlie Swan's home is a shrine to his daughter.
It makes it a little difficult to breathe.
He hangs his jacket and uniform top on the coat rack by the door, his gun belt, gun and all, follow, which leaves him in a plain white T and his uniform trousers. I follow him inside and into the kitchen.
"You want a beer?" His head is peeking in the fridge, a cold one in his hand already.
"No, sir. I don't drink," I say as he closes the fridge, turning to look at me. "I'm not old enough yet."
"That was a trick question." He cracks the top of his can open, letting out a fizz. "And you passed." He smiles before taking a sip.
I laugh awkwardly, scratching my neck, while he starts taking food out of a brown bag that was on the counter, grease darkening the material.
"How about some fish fry?"
"No, sir, I'm good."
"So you're just gonna watch me eat like a weirdo?"
"Okay, sure, I'll have some." I chuckle as he sets two plates of food on the table and a glass of water from the tap for me.
He takes the first bite, exhaling loudly as his eyes roll back. "Best fish fry on the West Coast. Probably the nation, too."
I take a bite myself. He's not wrong. Crunchy on the outside. Juicy on the inside. And still warm.
"So, what's going on?" he asks after he's swallowed.
"Have you heard from Bella recently?" I just need to know how much he might be aware already.
"We talk once a week or so," he says, then chews on another piece of fish. "She sends me letters and drawings too." He gestures to the fridge behind me. "That's the last one I got."
It's a watercolor painting. I recognize the view immediately. It's the mountains behind campus. Our bench. A few birds flying over it.
"I'm assuming you're her Colorado Boy?" Charlie asks, getting my attention back to him.
"She's told you about me?" I almost choke, and he laughs.
"You come up…a lot."
I wash down my embarrassment with some water before I look up at him again.
"Last I heard, you were both heading down to Florida for some hippity hoppity competition." He takes a gulp of his beer, looking at me. "Then on to some national tour of colleges or something through the summer…"
I guess I shouldn't be surprised that Bella never intended to actually get out of the tour like she said she was going to. I wonder what else she's lied to me about. I press my fingers on my chest, hoping the pain in there subsides.
"I was bummed that she won't be spending the summer with me as per usual, but…" he pauses with a shrug, taking a sip of his beer. "I knew that was coming sooner or later. Kids grow and all."
I scramble to find the right words to tell him, and he sighs, lost in thought. I've known him for less than an hour and can already tell how much he cares about Bella.
It makes me hopeful. It makes me angry. Why hasn't he been in the picture?
"I haven't watched you guys' performance yet. My wife set up the TV to record it for me, but I've been working all weekend…" His smile is apologetic, before he continues. "I'm not exactly in the loop with all the cheer stuff. I try and stay out of it, for the most part, as that is Phil's thing."
There's clear dislike in Charlie's tone. I almost smile. Maybe Charlie will be on my side about this.
"Bella tells me about the important stuff," Charlie continues with pride. "Like how she's crazy about you." He chews on his fish while he looks at me. "You make her happy."
His words feel like a punch to the gut. I look down and try to breathe despite the pain.
"Are you going to tell me what is going on, or do I have to fish it out of you?" He swings a piece of fish on his fork, smiling. A dad pun.
"Bella is not okay," I start. My tone is serious, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. "She's stable for now, but she's at the hospital."
"What do you mean at the hospital? What happened?" Charlie lowers his fork and knife to his plate, all humor gone from his face.
"She collapsed after our routine on Saturday, and we couldn't even compete on Sunday. She's severely malnourished. Exhausted."
"I've always said they have her do too much!" Charlie bangs a fist on the table, his hatred for them is palpable.
"She has so much going on," I continue. "She takes no breaks. She is under a ridiculous amount of pressure. And it has affected her relationship with food. She has been starving herself."
Charlie looks down at his plate. "That motherfucker," he whispers. I don't think he meant for me to hear it.
"They're taking her to a clinic in Boca Raton. It's a specialized center. For eating disorders."
"Jesus Christ." Charlie leans back on his chair, looking past me, at what, I don't know. A hand presses on his chest, and then he swallows down some beer.
"She's run herself to the ground. And I'm afraid the center won't help. Not when they still have this chokehold on her. Not when she will go right back at it after she's out. Phil won't let her quit."
"Of course he won't. She's his cash cow, for fuck's sake."
"I'm terrified she won't survive this. That the fire in her will burn out. That she'll hurt herself more. All she wants to be is free." I whisper the last part.
"Like those birds she draws."
"Yes."
"Why are you not there with her?" He studies my face.
"Trust me, sir. There is nowhere I would rather be than beside her. But she doesn't want me there." I swallow the lump in my throat. "She wants nothing else to do with me."
"I find that hard to believe." He raises an eyebrow at me. "What did you do?"
"I don't think I did anything. I voiced my concerns. I encouraged her to take time for herself. I got in Phil's way. And now she's cut me out. That's why I'm here to talk to you. You're my last resort. I think you're the only one who can help. You're her father after all."
"That motherfucker Phil." Charlie gets up from his chair, the wooden legs scraping the floor. "I told Renee he was shady as fuck. But she's spineless. She lets him do whatever he wants, as long as she can keep her life and her things." Charlie walks to the living room and paces back and forth almost as if he's talking to himself. "I've always stayed out of it because I thought it was what Bella wanted. Because she's told me is what she wants. That life. With the fame and the followers and the ticking tocks. I just wanted her to be happy."
"That's all I want too, sir." I follow quietly behind him. "I might not be able to help her anymore—not if she doesn't want me around—but I just need her to be okay."
"Getting involved might just make it worse for her though." Charlie scratches his jaw, I can almost see the wheels turning in his head. "Phil might retaliate against her."
He paces some more around the coffee table, pulling his phone from his pocket and frantically dialing a number. He groans with his hand over his chest, his finger scrolling through his contacts and pressing a different number. "Fucker won't even answer my call."
I breathe out and look down, pulling at my neck. I'm lost. I don't know what else to do. I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders, crushing me down.
"You said she's stable?" Charlie raises an eyebrow at me, as he dials again.
"Yes, she is. I don't know exactly when they were traveling to Boca Raton. Maybe they're there already."
I'm starting to lose all hope, as Charlie dials again, until he perks up, looking straight at me.
"Renee," he almost spits into the phone. "Put Bella on the phone."
I don't realize I'm holding my breath until I have to take a shaky one in.
"Put her on the phone," Charlie demands unwaveringly. "Right now."
A second passes. Two.
"Bells." Charlie's breath comes out in a whoosh and so does mine. "Are you okay?"
Charlie paces around the couch, and I lean onto the sofa table that's behind it, my hands brace on the wooden surface, flanked by pictures of Bella. Kindergarten graduation. White Gown and cap. The other at Christmas, sitting on Santa's lap. I wince.
"Okay," Charlie says a few times in a row. "Are you sure?" He is shaking his head back and forth as he aimlessly walks to the window and back. "All right…" He paces some more and flips through papers on the desk. "Okay, call me when you get there." A few more nods. "Love you, kiddo," he says, waits for a beat, and then hangs up.
Fuck.
I'm beginning to think he believed her—whatever she said to him—that she convinced him she's actually okay. As she's done it seems for the past few years. As she did to me.
My shoulders sag.
Charlie turns to me, looking up from his phone. "So I guess I'm headed to Florida," is what he says, and relief washes through me, taking with it whatever energy I had left.
"You are?" I use everything I have left to hold myself up. The last few days have taken a toll. To say I'm running on fumes would be an understatement.
"The fuck she's okay," Charlie whispers, almost as he's talking to himself, but when I look up, his eyes find mine, phone in hand as he dials another number. "Can you drive me to the airport?"
I try to straighten up, nodding at him right away. I'd drive him to Florida. Whatever it takes.
"Hey, babe, still at work?" he asks through the phone. "I have to go to Florida. Bella is not okay." He updates the person on the other side of the line about all the events I recounted for him, and ends with "and Colorado Boy is here."
A few seconds passes. Charlie waits. I stare impatiently.
"Tonight?" he asks the other person on the line, looking at the clock on the wall. "Okay, yeah. Thanks. Yeah, he looks like he needs a nap as well." Charlie eyes me up and down with a chuckle. "All right, see you when you get here. Love ya." Then he hangs up again.
"Okay…" He sighs, putting his phone back in his pocket, and runs a hand down his face. "I got a flight out of Seattle for tonight."
I breathe out in relief, using a hand to hold myself up on the table.
"Thank you for letting me know," he says, eyes honest.
"I can drive you to the airport tonight." I nod and try to keep myself straight.
"No need to," he says, coming closer. "My wife will be home in a few hours. She can drive me."
"All right," I say with a huff, scratching my neck. I guess I'm leaving then.
"I'll take it from here." When he clasps a hand on my shoulder and I feel I could collapse with relief. "Did you drive all the way from Utah?" Charlie asks, his hand still on my shoulder. "Through the night?"
"Yes, sir."
His eyebrows raise in his forehead. "When are you going back?"
"Right now, I guess."
"Nah, you look like you need to crash." He softly pats my shoulder and walks past me.
"I'll sleep in the car if I need to," I say as I walk to the door.
"Not on my watch you won't."
I sigh because a little rest sounds good right about now.
"I have a couch." He gestures with his hand.
I look at the worn-down leather couch in the living room and the framed headshot of Bella staring right at me. I wince a little.
"C'mon, just a few hours." He guides me away from the door. "I'm going to pass out, too, until it's time to go to the airport. Sue will wake me up when she gets home. You're welcome to stay the night as well."
"That's very generous. Thank you." I eye the couch and then him. "Maybe I could sleep a couple hours."
"Sounds like a plan." He lingers in the living room as I step by the couch. We sort of look awkwardly at each other for a second or two before he walks closer and stops in front of me. "Edward?"
He seems to struggle for words, opening and closing his mouth.
"Thank you for looking after my daughter when I failed to." He gives my shoulder a squeeze, his eyes glassy. I feel like I could cry, too.
"I will be there for her and will try to help the situation," he continues. "But if Phil has it out for you, it's best that you stay away. Not just for you, but for Bella, too. He'll use you against her."
"Right." I knew that already. I didn't come here to try to get Bella back. I don't even think that's possible. At least not now. Not for a while.
With a deep breath, Charlie retreats and walks to the stairs, peeking back at me, nodding before heading up.
I huff and drop on the couch, leaning back and staring at the ceiling, exhaustion catching up with me. I peek at the headshot of Bella on the side table, near my head, as if she's watching me.
Then, I close my eyes tightly and let the darkness take me, hoping Charlie is able to do what I couldn't. Make it better. Save her.