Chapter Music: Not As We by Alanis Morissette
A/N: My infinite gratitude to my pre-reader, miztrezboo, who despite the odds, gave Alice her love, and my thanks to annanabanana, who stopped me from making what could have been a very embarrassing mistake this chapter.
LINK TO CHAPTER UNDER THE COMMENTS BAR
:: Bella ::
My entire body ached as I rolled over and stretched my arms above my head. My back arched and popped, while the muscles in my legs flexed and pulled unforgivingly. I felt my shorts cutting into my thighs and hips and suddenly wished I had slipped them off last night.
Streams of gold filtered in through the open windows and the hanging voile fluttered and billowed gently in the warm breeze. Soft snoring permeated the quiet of the morning and I smiled, turning to watch Charlie, as he slept on my old daybed. He was still dressed, sitting propped up among cushions and worn ratty bears, with his arms crossed over his chest and a frown drawn heavily across his forehead. He looked exhausted and uncomfortable, but he had stayed.
Climbing out of bed, I padded over to his side and swept my fingers through his hair. He stirred for a moment but sank further into the large cushions, forcing his shoulder to press against the frame, causing the bed to groan in protest.
Leaving the morning sun behind me, I left Charlie in my room and headed for the bathroom, hoping that the heat of the water would sooth my stiff body.
Steam began to fill the room as the warm water circled the air, and I was immediately reminded of the shrouding mist coating the lake last night. I cleared the fog off the mirror over the vanity and stared at my reflection, shocked at what I saw. Purple-grey hollows sat under dull and lifeless brown eyes. The once full and wavy hair was now lank and flat. Skin usually dusted with the hint of a blush now looked pasty and dry. The reflection looked sad and pitiful, an unrecognizable shell of its former self.
I had allowed Jacob to do this to me, but I was, at least, partially responsible. This was my chance to start afresh. No expectations, no demands, no darkness or repression; just me and my own decisions. I had granted Jacob his divorce. I had left and come home. I could move forward, but only if I tried. And I could try, if only for Charlie's sake. I wasn't sure if I was ready to stand on my own yet. My self doubt and lack of understanding about where it all went wrong still felt like a weight on my shoulders. But I could shift from day to day with a modicum of grace and the pseudo appearance of healing, if that's what was necessary.
Stepping under the hot spray, I allowed the water to saturate my hair and flow down my back. As it ran over my skin, I relished the warmth it provided and basked in the sanctuary it offered. It wasn't long before the water cooled and my pinkened skin began to wrinkle. Wrapped in a towel, I made my way back to my room, only to find it empty upon my arrival. I dressed quickly in a sundress and made my way downstairs.
Voices floated out of the kitchen, among the sounds of breakfast cooking, as I reached the foot of the stairs. I faltered on the last step when I realized it was Edward sitting with Charlie.
"I'll go out and get the boat after breakfast," Edward said.
"I'll take you out on the Bella-Marie, she'll get you there faster." Charlie's voice was laced with pride, and I cringed as I heard the name with which he had dubbed his largest boat.
"I was just going to tie it to the back of the other row boat and tow it in. You spend some time with Bella," Edward dismissed.
The last thing I wanted was to be scrutinized as I stumbled and groped blindly in the dark, trying to find my own feet and a balance that would satisfy Charlie's need to see me whole again. No, today I was getting out of the house—by myself.
I moved quickly into the kitchen, before my entire day could be planned out for me, and reached into the fridge to grab the milk. Charlie was sitting at the table, nursing a mug of coffee as Edward stood in front of the large range cooking bacon and eggs.
"Morning, Bella. How'd you sleep?" Charlie asked, looking up from his mug.
"Morning, daddy." I walked over to the table and kissed the top of his head. He smiled at the gesture, and I took a steadying breath at the realization that, perhaps, my façade would be easier than I first thought. "I think a better question would be, how did you sleep? That old daybed isn't comfortable enough to sleep on, dad." He waved me off, and I sat down opposite him, sipping my milk.
"I slept just fine, don't you worry about your old dad," he scoffed, but I didn't miss the almost subtle flex of his leg as Charlie tried to straighten out his knee. His leg still gave him trouble when it got too stiff or when the weather changed and the temperature dropped. He really should have slept in his own bed.
Edward approached the table with a plate for each of us. Bacon and eggs with pancakes and fresh fruit filled the plates, and it was only then that I noticed the toast and maple syrup already sitting on the table.
"You must be hungry," Edward said, looking at me and sitting down next to Charlie. "You can't have eaten last night." He was right, of course—and I was starving—but the Edward I remembered used to hide my lunch and tease me mercilessly at school. I shrugged my shoulders, indifferent to his offering.
"I guess I could eat something." I felt Charlie's eyes on me, likely watching with anticipation and hope that I was going to finally eat something after a week of avoiding everything, including food. I tentatively pushed the fruit around with my fork before taking a small bite and forcing a smile, chewing slowing and deliberately. The fruit was juicy and fresh, but none of the taste registered in my mouth as I swallowed awkwardly, reaching for my milk to wash it down.
Edward and Charlie sat, watching me cautiously for a few moments until I spoke. "It's not going to eat itself, boys," I quipped, as I gestured toward their own, untouched plates. With one last look in my direction, they both settled down to their breakfast. I finished my fruit and a piece of toast, unconsciously pushing the rest around my plate while Edward and Charlie spoke about fishing at the weekend.
I needed to leave, to escape the house and any questions about yesterday's disappearance. Clearing the table of empty plates, I rinsed the dishes and stacked them in the sink, waiting for a gap in the conversation before I spoke.
"Daddy, can I borrow your truck today?" I asked sweetly. Charlie gave me a speculative glance before finishing his coffee.
"I can drive you, Bells. Where you headed?" he quizzed casually without making eye contact. He might not be the Chief anymore but he was still a creature of habit. I didn't want or need an interrogation, or a chauffeur; I just needed some time and space.
"I was just going to drive into town, daddy. I could pick up some dinner from the diner and be back here before six." Charlie wavered for a moment before meeting Edward's eyes.
"That's a pretty nice Audi you have outside, Bella," Edward remarked. My gaze turned frosty and my voice lost its sweetness.
"It's not mine. The Audi belongs to Jacob." Edward's back straightened, shocked by my tone, but he dropped the subject. Charlie passed me the keys to his old truck.
"Back by six, Bella, or we'll be out looking for you."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, and as I reached for the keys, I kissed the top of Charlie's head before turning to leave the house.
Making the drive into town, my body shuddered and bounced as Charlie's truck jerked sharply over the divots and holes in the old dirt road. As I headed out toward the highway, I watched the heat haze ahead, shimmering over scattered stones, while a cloud of dust swirled in my wake.
The cracked leather on the worn bench seat felt cool under my thighs in the unforgiving, late morning heat. Rolling down the window, I closed my eyes for a moment and relished the feel of the breeze on my face, knowing that once the afternoon arrived the sun would become almost unbearable.
There were no other cars on the road as I made my way into town. The only other houses out by Charlie's belonged to the Masen family, and I wouldn't be surprised to hear that Edward was the only one to venture off the estate anymore.
In no time at all, I pulled into the parking lot at the back of the old movie theatre and smiled wistfully at the high school memories the building evoked. The fissure in my chest ached as I thought of Jacob, and I struggled to push memories of him to the back of my mind, choosing instead to focus on times spent with girlfriends and Charlie. Sharing popcorn, sprinkled with Milk Duds, and arguing over who would sit where.
Rounding the corner, I was faced with a parade of small stores lining the street opposite the town square, where I stood. The contrast to Phoenix was startling. Gone was the industry of the big city: the commercialism, the architectural design and the structure. This was a town of simple people and simple times. They set their own pace and weren't swallowed up by the world and its rapidly growing economy. Jacob had lost that, and in turn, so had I.
Most of the facings were worn, with paint peeling around the windows; the shop signs needed repainting and the moldings needed to be varnished. But the town was exactly as I remembered. The barber's was right next door to the hardware store, and the bakery was three doors down from that. The pet store was still right along the street, and McCarty's Diner had never looked better.
The store that caught my eye, though, was Masen's largest clothing store, Second Chances. The thrift store had been open for as long as I could remember, and by comparison to most stores, was still considerably small. More memories flooded my senses as I stared at the overstuffed window, full of hat boxes and mannequins dressed in vintage apparel: Alice and me, running through the store in flapper dresses and feather boas, the two of us spending countless Saturdays playing dress up, flicking through rack after rack of dresses and bootleg jeans, or micro minis and go-go dresses.
A vivid memory of Charlie taking me dress shopping for my junior prom overwhelmed me, and as I stood in the street I felt the world begin to spin as if in slow motion—watching the events playback in front of me like a movie reel over time. One dress tried on after the next, sharing happy smiles and teasing laughter. Matching shoes and crinkling noses as important decisions were made about colors and hair styles. The next image hit hard and fast: seeing myself in my senior year, laughing and talking with Alice and Lauren as we came out of Second Chances, bags and dresses in hand. Those days seemed so far removed now; they felt like a lifetime ago.
A strong gust of wind blew down the street, whipping my hair around my face and pulling me from my reverie. Before I could stop myself, I made my way across the street, taking deliberate steps, and walked into the familiar store.
"I'll be right with you." A young woman's voice drifted out from behind a stack of boxes, and I felt a pang of nostalgic sadness at the fact that Mrs. Cope wasn't sorting through the delivery.
"Take your time, I'm in no rush," I assured as I began to finger some of the clothes to my right. "I'm just going to look around."
"Okay, thanks. Shout if you need anything. I'll be done in just a minute." The woman sounded relieved to be able to continue with her work, and again, I was reminded of just how far removed Masen was from Phoenix. High strung sales assistants working for commission, following you throughout the store and pandering to your every whim in the hopes of securing your future business, versus a casual browse as you try on items at your own leisure. I hadn't realized how much I had really missed home until that moment. What had I let Jacob and the life we had built together do to me?
Boxes thumped and the occasional sigh filtered through the store, and when the store's phone began to ring, the sound of a palm slapping hardwood resounded in the air. I stifled a laugh under my breath when the sound of scuffling feet and frustrated muttering ensued as the woman moved to answer her call.
"Second Chances, Al—" she stopped, interrupted by her caller.
"Emmett McCarty! You can't keep ringin' me every twenty minutes, I'm busy!" She paused. "No, I didn't see who came in." I rolled my eyes and scoffed, a crazed laugh erupting from my mouth. We were both being less than discreet. Between my eavesdropping and her busy-body routine, we were like peas in a pod. After a moment, the woman's voice dropped to a whispered hiss.
"No, I don't know if she can hear me…No, I can't go to the window…'Cause she'll see me, you idiot." Her voice peaked as she spoke, and I maneuvered myself between two mannequins, facing the glass, to see what Emmett was talking about.
Casting my eyes along the street, I saw the unmistakable mass of Emmett, pacing in front of McCarty's diner, and realized he must have seen me enter the shop.
"Oh, my God. No way! Bella? Bella Swan?"
I tried to extract myself from the window quickly and quietly but only managed to twist my foot into a stack of shoe boxes and purses. As I reached to steady myself, my elbow knocked the second mannequin and sent a handful of scarves floating up into the air. I stood still, unable to react, while the chaos rained down around me, waiting patiently to be discovered. Laughter drew my eyes to the back of the store, and I couldn't believe what I saw.
"Ally? Is that you?" I tried to take a step forward but my foot was ensnared by a purse strap. Alice had hardly changed—dressed in a floaty bohemian skirt and lace cami top—she was still shorter than me, her frame petite and graceful. An elfish crop replaced the long hair she had once worn back in high school, highlighting her cheekbones and enlarging her luminous, rich hazel eyes. Her smile broadened as recognition settled over her face, and she spoke into the phone.
"Gotta go, Em." Alice hung up the phone on her brother and ran down the length of the aisle toward me, her flip flops slapping against the soles of her feet as she moved. Her swift embrace sent the mannequins in the window careening to the floor, and we both stumbled into the rest of the display when I lost my footing and fell backwards.
"Nice to see you, too, Alice," I groaned as my old friend squeezed her arms around my back, expelling all the air from my lungs.
"Don't you 'nice to see you, too,' me, Bella. Why didn't you say something?" Alice shifted and pushed herself up off my chest, leaving her hands on my shoulders for support.
"I didn't realize it was you, I swear," I gasped, rolling Alice off me. She lay back among the scattered sweaters and raincoats—not the sort of things you would expect to see for sale, considering the current Texas heat, but Ally never had been conventional—and stared up at the ceiling.
"You never called, Bella. Where've you been? What've you been doin'? Do you know what it did to Charlie when you left? Why're you back? Where's Jacob? What happened? How long are you stayin' for? You never called. Not once. I missed you." Her gaze never once met mine, instead remaining on the lighting overhead while her questions came in rapid succession, without hesitation. A trace of sadness and hurt lingered as she became quiet, and for a moment I considered leaving, unable to give a good reason for abandoning my friend. But I knew I couldn't. I was here to stay and it was time to try making amends.
"I'm sorry, Ally." I paused as she briefly looked at me expectantly and then rolled her head away again. Taking a deep breath, I answered her questions. "Phoenix, that's where I've been—being Jacob's wife. Charlie seemed okay the times we talked, he really did. Erm…I left Jacob, he's not here. Honestly, I don't know what happened. He asked for a divorce one night; it came out of the blue. We never discussed it—we didn't discuss a lot of things, actually—and I'm home for good." A sad and awkward silence descended over the space between us, and I watched Alice as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
"I really am so very sorry, Ally." I sat with my legs crossed beneath me, waiting anxiously for her to say something, anything.
"Why're you sorry, Bella? Because you cut us all off, or because you have to face us now?" She turned her head to look up at me and a tear slid down the side of her face. Before I could answer her, Alice spoke again. "Charlie was devastated, you know. He wore a brave face for you, but he missed you so bad—we all did."
"I'm sorry, for more than you can know, Alice. I really am." I knew amends were due but I couldn't, not today. I had made it out of the house; I had come into town. I had even managed to share a fairly civil breakfast with Edward, but I couldn't stand the guilt I was feeling for the way I had treated the people I had left behind—Alice and Charlie especially. Unfurling my legs I moved to stand up, but Alice stopped me before I could lift myself from the floor.
"So, tell me. Don't just leave. Let me back in, Bella," Alice implored, placing her hand on my forearm and pulling me back down onto our blanket of coats.
"I don't know where to start." I felt the tears well up in my eyes as I thought about my empty life and how short our conversation was going to be. I'd left Masen with dreams of grandeur and love; instead I had become nothing more than a Stepford wife. It was humiliating and heartbreaking.
"How about startin' with when you left Masen?" I watched as Alice stood and walked to the door, turning the sign in the window and locking up. She settled back down in front of me, offering a small smile of encouragement as she mirrored my posture: back straight, legs crossed with our hands resting in our laps. We sat for over two hours, talking about my life with Jacob in Phoenix.
I told Alice what had happened the night he asked for the divorce and how he had taken me roughly, lacking the sentiment of a lover's touch. I cried as I told her of those first few weeks I had spent in tears, desperately trying to understand why my marriage had failed and why Jacob didn't want me anymore, wondering why we couldn't work.
I told her of the following three months—the months that I had stayed, but not really fought for my marriage. The months that I had silently watched as Jacob had drifted further away from me, doing nothing to try and pull him back and anchor him to my side. I shared all the mornings that Jacob was often on his way out of the house by the time I awoke, and the evenings I was usually in bed by the time he returned home at night. Late meetings, business trips, functions, none of which I challenged or cared about.
In turn, Alice told me of Masen and how things had changed in my absence. She had taken over the day to day running of Second Chances, managing the store on behalf of Mrs. Cope. Ally talked about her work with passion and enjoyment; she was at home here, surrounded by our memories. She shared the fact that she was now living with Jasper Whitlock, and had been for just over a year, ever since Emmett and Rose had gotten married.
I also found out exactly how Charlie had taken my leaving with Jacob.
"He was a mess, Bella. He worked doubles. He barely ate. He even stopped fishin'." Alice's voice was pained as she recalled Charlie's misery.
"In two years, he never said a word, I swear," I whispered, feeling my heart break a little more in my chest.
"Of course he didn't."
"But why?" Never once had Charlie voiced any loss or sadness at my moving. I knew I'd missed him immensely, and a large part of me resented Jacob for the fact that I hadn't seen my father since we had moved away. But if I had known that Charlie needed me, then I would have moved the earth to get back to him.
"You're his baby girl. He couldn't tell you. What could you have done? You'd only have felt bad, and he couldn't have that."
"So how did he…"
"Rose and I started taking him dinner. We always said we cooked too much, of course. Or we'd invite him over for supper." Alice laughed. "But boys will be boys, and one thing led to another. Dinner became watchin' the game, and that became goin' fishin' on the weekends."
"That'd be nice." Charlie would have liked that, something to keep him busy.
"We became his family, Bella, but it wasn't the same. We all still felt it. Still felt you missin'." Alice reached for my hand and took it in hers. "Jacob had no business takin' you away from your family and your friends. Everyone hurt because of it. But you're home now, and that's what's important."
I smiled weakly and gave her hand a grateful squeeze. "Thank you, Ally. I can't ever repay you. You were here for Charlie at a time when—" I choked back another sob.
"Shhh, it's all done now. You're home now and it'll all be okay." Alice pulled me to her and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, speaking again into my hair. "So what's next?"
I let out a short and teary laugh. "I have to pick up dinner for tonight, and if I'm staying, I need to get a job."
Releasing me, Ally's eyes met mine and she smiled. "Well you're in luck, I know just the place."
We said our goodbyes and I promised to speak to her later in the week. Not five minutes later, I was entering McCarty's Diner while the bell tinkled over the door. Although it had been years since I'd been inside, nothing had changed. Worn red leather bench seats sat interspersed with white linoleum tables, trimmed with chrome. The matching counter caught the afternoon sun, shining through the large window, causing the bright rays to bounce and reflect off the mirror mounted on the back wall.
I perched on one of the stools in front of the register and ordered a cherry coke, watching as Maggie—my old sitter—dropped three cherries into the glass before she slid it over to me. I ordered burgers and fries to go and two slices of pie: one apple and one cherry. After Maggie had placed my order, she returned to wipe down the counter.
"Hey, Maggie."
She looked up and smiled. "Hey, girl. Long time no see."
I felt my cheeks heat in embarrassment, and I forced a smile. "Yeah, sorry about that," I mumbled. "Is Emmett in today?" I took a long pull of my coke through the straw and squeezed my eyes closed when the bubbles danced up my nose.
"He sure is, sweetie. You want me to call him for you?"
"No thanks, I'll just wait." I shook my head vigorously, and Maggie chuckled, walking over to a booth by the window to take a new order. Of all my high school memories, the ones of Emmett were sometimes the sweetest. Where Edward and Jasper would tease me, Emmett was always sincere; although most of his energy had been focused on Rosalie Hale—energy, it turns out, that had been well spent.
"Baby Bell!" The voice of Emmett McCarty suddenly bellowed from the kitchen serving window, startling me and causing me to spill a little of my coke.
"Hey Emmett." I winced and scrunched my nose as his grin continued to spread across his face and he stepped out to stand behind the counter. I reached for a napkin and wiped at the sticky mess, concentrating as the brown, carbonated syrup soaked into the tissue.
"What brings you back to town?" His dimples twitched while he watched me toy with the other napkins stacked next to the register.
"I need a job," I half-whispered, quickly glancing up and meeting his eyes before dropping my gaze back to my hands, then flitting it back up to his face once more.
"Well you've come to the right place." His face softened briefly and he turned, grabbing an apron and a notepad from under the counter. "Welcome to McCarty's."
A/N: Thanks for reading.
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