There Goes My Life
Chapter Four
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. The plot, along with a few of the characters I add here and there belong to my ruthless muse.
Edward parked by the curb, he stared up at the peeling gray paint of the low-income apartments, "home sweet home," he muttered, a bitter edge to his voice.
He cast a glance at Bella, and then forced an awkward grin before twisting the key into the lock and pushing the front door open to Elizabeth's apartment.
He stood in the entryway of his mother's home. He held his breath as his nose adjusted to the spoiled air. He took in the cluttered floor, scattered with toys and trash, the kitchen sink and countertops that were overrun with dirty dishes, the trash bin was overflowing onto the floor, and his mouth drew up in a tight line.
He walked into the kitchen, reached into the cabinet above the refrigerator and pulled out a container. "Stupid witch." He snarled darkly, tossing the drugs.
"Edward?" Bella murmured worriedly.
He shook his head; his voice came out softer and controlled. "You can go back to the hotel. I have a doll and a dragon to find."
"I'll help," she said stubbornly.
He kicked at some trash, "Don't touch anything, be careful," he said, as he started searching. He found a couple of plastic totes and emptied them; he gathered up some of the toys, and Asher's blanket and packed them away.
"What about everything else?" Bella asked.
"It can rot for all I care," he said. "I'm not taking any of the clothes because God only knows what kind of drugs may have seeped into them." He turned off the lights as he carried the trash out. "Let's go eat, we'll ... or I'll come back tomorrow."
She forced a grin, "sure, I saw this really good restaurant on TripAdvisor," he rolled his eyes fondly as they climbed into the Tahoe.
"So, what are we having?" He asked, turning the heater on full blast.
"Seafood."
He chuckled deeply, "of course we are."
He pulled into the parking lot of The Boatyard Grill. It was set on the south end of Cayuga Lake and under the moonlit sky looked picturesque, like the cover of one of Esme's romance novels.
He gently guided Bella into the restaurant with his hand on her lower back. He tipped the hostess generously after she seated them at a table with a breathtaking waterfront view.
He watched Bella's eyes widened as she took in the prices on the menu, "order whatever you'd like, Bella," he told her quietly. "You've more than earned it."
He turned to the waitress, "We'll start with the Seafood Splash Down Tower, and I'll have a glass of German Riesling."
"I'll have a strawberry lemonade," Bella requested, as she placed her napkin in her lap.
They were quiet as they waited for their drinks, "no wine?"
Bella smiled across the table at him, "maybe, if I was old enough," she laughed, "but probably not, I'm not big on the taste."
Edward lifted an eyebrow, "how old are you?" He asked, briefly wondering once more why his father had hired her.
"Twenty. I'll be twenty-one in the summer," she explained, taking a sip of her lemonade.
He nodded. He grinned as the waitress set a three-tier appetizer stand upon their table, plates filled with shrimp cocktail, steamed clams, fried calamari, "eat up," he chuckled. He ordered them Filet Mignon when Bella couldn't decide; many times, his eyes would drift out to the water while he sipped his wine.
"I came up here once as a boy," he stated quietly, "not here," he motioned to the restaurant, "but the lake. I would've been about seven or eight, it was summer. It was one of the best weeks of my young life, pre-Cullen years."
"Oh yeah?"
He smiled softly, "yeah, it was nice. We slept in an old tent, ate hot dogs, fished," his smile twisted, "thinking back now, we were probably homeless."
"Tell me about her, your mother?" She suggested as she cut into her steak. "I mean, I can make assumptions, I have enough pieces of the puzzle, but you might feel better if you talked about her."
He pushed his steamed vegetables around his plate; he didn't lift his eyes away from the piece of broccoli he was nudging away from his carrots. He was quiet for so long that Bella believed he was going to ignore her request. "She was young when she had me, too young. Fifteen - nearly sixteen. High school dropout. Overly strict parents, very religious."
She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "When she turned nineteen, we moved into our own apartment, I went to preschool, kindergarten regularly. After she had turned twenty-one and with the death of her parents, things changed. She started partying, would leave me for days on end with my dementia-ridden Great Aunt," he shuddered and continued, "until she moved into a nursing home." He paused and cleared his throat, "I was nine when she was arrested for child neglect, endangerment, and possession of a controlled substance with the intent to distribute. She was sentenced to eight years, with five years' probation."
"She was a.." she trailed off as Edward nodded. "Yeah."
"Tell me about Carlisle and Esme," she requested after he put in an order for dessert as the waitress took their half-eaten plates away.
He smiled, and relaxed back into his chair. "After you tell me something personal about yourself, something I can't learn from social media."
She tilted her head and thought for a moment before answering. "I'm all alone in the world," she said, "my parents were older when they had me in their late thirties, no extended family. Cancer took my mother when I was a toddler. My father died a few weeks after my seventeenth birthday, a routine traffic stop gone wrong. Carlisle used to come into the deli I worked at to check in on me. Our dads had played high school ball together. One really bad day he slipped an application into my tip jar."
He nodded, squeezing her hand softly, "I'm sorry."
She smiled at him reassuringly, "so, tell me about the Cullens, I sense a story there."
He laughed, "There is. I was a little hoodlum. I had only been in the foster system a few months; I didn't stay in a home for more than a few weeks at a time. I kept getting into trouble, I was seriously behind in school, I struggled to read and solve simple math problems. I was placed in a tutoring program, and I was assigned, Emmett. After watching me bounce around from home to home, he invited me over to his house for dinner. I was caught trying to steal some leftovers and juice boxes as I was putting them into my school bag. That was that; I was living with them by the end of the week."
Bella pulled her hand away from his and cut into the chocolate cake. They were both thoughtfully quiet as they polished off last of their indulgence.
She drove them back to the hotel, "sleep well, Edward. I'll meet you downstairs at seven thirty for breakfast."
"Taverna Banfi, seven thirty," he agreed and reached for his wallet to get out his keycard to his room, "and goodnight Bella." He smiled as he watched her disappear into her room for the night.
...
"Mom?"
He crept into the dimly lit room, the smoke, and loud music hurt his head, "Mom?" He moved slowly, his eyes scanning over the strangers that were strung out across his living room.
"Aren't you a pretty little boy," a large man cooed, giving him a decayed smile.
He flinched as his mother's fingers curled into his small shoulders and gave him a swift jerk, "Edward, go back to bed."
"But, I'm hungry," her fingers tightened as she growled softly in his ear, "to bed, now."
His heart thundered in his ears as he pulled his eyes open. He stomach twisted, he was worried he was starting to develop an ulcer. He rolled onto his back and stared at the red light of the alarm clock that set next to the bed.
Two: am
He reached for his phone, swiped the screen and opened Facebook. He scrolled through the trivial bullshit of politics and news articles. He liked a series of Alice's picture from her day of skiing in Aspen.
"Who this?" He commented on a picture of a young man who appeared in a series of her new photos. He moved on, politely liking a photo of Emmett and Rosalie's dog sleeping.
"Edward, why are you still awake? It's past two in New York." His father sent him a messenger text, and before he could respond, his phone dinged again. "Never mind, I'll just FaceTime you."
He chuckled and accepted the video call from his father, "Hey," he murmured, turning his bedside light on low.
"So, are you going to tell an old man why you're up at this late hour?" Carlisle asked, looking him over.
Edward's eyes cut away from the screen, "woke up, couldn't go back to sleep. Why are you still awake?"
"I just finished a clever documentary about genocide in Indonesia in 1960, it follows a man as he meets and interviews the individuals responsible for the death of his brother." He explained then asked his question once again, "now how about the truth?"
"Dad," he murmured.
Carlisle dropped his voice and mimicked his son's voice, "Edward." He lowered his gaze and frowned, unsure how to start. His father continued softly, "talk to me my son, I know something is wrong. I can see it; it's written all across your face."
He looked up, "is Mom still up? I should probably speak with both of you."
"I'll be right back," Carlisle left his phone on the desk, a few minutes later; he picked up his phone and walked over to the couch.
"Hey, sweetheart," his mom smiled at him, and he gave them a half-hearted grin. "Your dad says you need to talk to us."
"I didn't go to New York on business," he declared, "I received a call the other afternoon. Elizabeth passed away." He explained thickly, his voice tight with grief.
"Oh, Edward," his mother face fell, and her eyes welled with tears for him.
"And I apologize for not telling you both sooner, but I thought ... I believed this was something I should do myself." He ducked his head. "But I'm in way over my head."
"Are you okay?" his father asked him.
"No... Yes, no. I have siblings, young siblings." He explained.
"How young?"
"Newborn, then two more, almost three and five," he rubbed his beard, "she died because of some infection that she developed after having a C-section. They don't have anyone else; I'm in the process of trying to receive guardianship."
"That's..." Edward cut his dad off, "a big responsibility. I know. I didn't make the decision casually. I'll figure it all out." He promised them.
Esme smiled proudly, "of course you will, and we'll be here to help you."
"Dad, I'm going to need to take some time off," he said, running a hand through his rumpled hair.
Carlisle chuckled deeply, "I'd imagine so. Don't stress about it, I'll take care of it."
"Thanks," he yawned, giving his parents an exhausted grin.
"Go back to bed, sweetheart, we'll talk to you tomorrow," Esme ordered him softly.
"Night," he said, ending the call.
He rolled over and drifted back off quickly.
Author Note...
A big Thank you to Sunflower Fran for beta'ing.
I pray you all are well, big hugs and lots of love.
I hope you enjoyed this new chapter and please leave a Review.
- Emily