Loved your response to the last chapter. More will be uncovered with each chapter!
Going away for a long weekend and I don't think I'll be posting until I'm home, so I wanted to give you something before I left.
Thanks to everyone!
Dearest Isabella,
Your father and I were pleased to receive your letter. It seems your journey to Port Angeles has passed uneventfully, and we hope it remains that way. Watching you leave home, knowing what we know about James, was one of the hardest things we've had to do. Losing him is not something I think I can survive most days, and thinking of you in the same city where he lost his life keeps me awake most nights. As much as we want answers for James, we also need you safe, Isabella. The door is open for you to return home whenever you're ready.
Nothing has changed here, but everything also feels vastly different. You're gone. James is gone. Your father spends more time in the fields than he ever has. The floors here have never been cleaner. It appears standing in one place with a broom in my hand is the only thing I'm capable of doing these days. Back and forth. Back and forth. But nothing ever changes. I'm still stuck living this half-life of mine, dreaming of simpler times. Sometimes I close my eyes, and I can hear the sounds of you and your brother when you were younger; laughing and yelling when you should have been doing your chores. It makes me smile, though sometimes not for as long as I'd hoped.
Please keep us informed of whatever it is you're up to. And remember, you don't need to stay there if you feel lonely or feel there is nothing else you can learn about James.
Love,
Mama
Isabella finishes reading the letter from her mother with a frown etched firmly onto her face. Opening the vanity drawer in her room, she places the letter inside and swiftly closes it again. Unfortunately, she catches the sight of her reflection in the mirror and pauses at what she sees staring back at her. She had been settling into somewhat of a comfortable routine here in Port Angeles, and the letter from her mother has now filled her with paralyzing guilt. In the weeks since she had arrived, she has managed to accumulate her wages and spends them sparingly. She pays Rose as needed, shops for food once a week, and stashes the rest in a secret place in her locked room. She works most nights at The Lost Key, often staying later or picking up extra shifts. She chats in the kitchen with Rosalie on nights they both aren't working and often retreats to her room to knit quietly until exhaustion settles in and she drifts off to sleep.
Most importantly, she rarely finds herself idle. Unintentionally, she has learned her mind doesn't think of James or her family back in Forks when she is occupied, and it makes her happy to know her days aren't filled with heartache like they were when she first arrived in Port Angeles. But now, she thinks of her mother's letter lying in the drawer, and she remembers everything all over again.
Of course, she hasn't forgotten the reason why she's here; her ears are open, and her eyes are scanning the crowds each night at The Lost Key for any mention of her brother. Her mother's words have only painted a stark picture of the life Isabella left behind in Forks.
Sighing, she pushes her chair back and steps away from the vanity, bringing her sour mood with her. She wraps her sweater tightly around her as she locks her door and makes her way down the steps towards the street, ignoring the ongoing happenings behind closed doors. She smiles at some of her neighbors along the way, hoping her upcoming shift will take away some of her troubled thoughts.
As usual, she arrives before the crowd and walks into the pub with her head held high. Whatever storms she has brewing inside her head must calm for now. If anything, it makes her more diligent in obtaining any connection between James and the guests coming in for a drink tonight.
"Ahh, Isabella!"
Her head turns sharply at the sound of her name, a smile gracing her face when she sees a familiar face make his way to the bar. Alistair nods towards the top shelf behind her. "I'll have a bottle. Tullamore Dew.
She nods and reaches for an unopened bottle, sliding several glasses down his way when she sees a small group gathering around him. All of them are loud and boisterous, the smoke from their cigars reminding her of her Uncle back home. A pang of nostalgia squeezes her chest, and she tries to brush it away.
"What's the occasion?" Isabella asks as he begins to settle his payment.
"Wife's just had a baby," Alistair boasts. "Fat and healthy boy."
"How wonderful!" Isabella cheers, her somber mood uplifting some.
"It's on the house," Edward says lowly from behind her, his voice making her nearly jump out of her skin. She nods, handing Alistair's money back to him with a smile.
"Thanks, Edward. Awful kind of you, Sir."
"It's a happy day," Edward says, nodding towards Alistair. "Maggie wouldn't want you spending all your money on a round at the pub now, would she, now with a baby at home?"
Alistair laughs before his group of men cheer and chant in happiness around him, leading him back to one of the booths in the back to celebrate.
"That was nice of you," Isabella says to Edward once the loud group has put some distance between them and the bar.
Edward answers her, but his eyes never leave the wooden bar. "Alistair's a good man."
"Define 'good.'" Isabella pushes, swiping a rag from beneath the register. "I think a person's perception of good differs from one person to the next."
He clears his throat, his eyes glancing at her quickly while she cleans the top of the bar for the next guest. It's crowded tonight, as are most nights when she's here, so it isn't long before another man takes advantage of the open space. Edward listens as the man rattles off his drink of choice to Isabella, and she readies it for him without so much of a moment of doubt. "Maybe to a certain extent."
Smiling at the man, she hands him his drink, and he leaves his money on top of the bar. Clearing her throat, she motions towards the register, and he steps back, allowing her to open the till to pay for the man's drink. Isabella turns her head and looks at Edward over her shoulder. "Do you think there's good in everyone?"
He notices a slight frown on her face before she tries to hide it.
"No," he replies, stepping further towards the end of the bar. "Not everyone."
She nods. "You mean that man I saw you with by the docks?"
Not confirming her question, he reaches for a glass of his own. "Have you seen him anywhere else?"
"Maybe once at Rose's. He didn't stay very long," Isabella says. "But I didn't let him know I was there."
He pours himself a generous dram and tips his head back, swallowing down more than just the amber liquor. "Good."
Her giggles twinkle in his ears in the noisy bar when he slams his glass down between them, closing his eyes for a brief moment before he taps the bar in farewell.
"I take it this one's on the house, as well?" She calls as he makes his way towards the exit.
He turns back to her just before he steps outside into the winter cold. "Have a good night, Isabella."
See you soon!