Chapter Music: Secret Garden by Bruce Springstein
A/N: Thanks to annanabanana for betaing. Sorry for the delay in posting.
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:: Bella ::
Sitting at Edward's kitchen table, I awkwardly twisted my glass of water in my hands.
"You should drink that," he coaxed, gently pulling another seed from my hair. He'd been standing behind me for over ten minutes, removing them one by one.
I took a mouthful from the glass, trying hard not to concentrate on the way his fingers felt as they brushed against the skin behind my ears or in the hairline at my neck. My relationship with Edward had changed since our time out at the Miller's ranch. A friendship unlike those that I shared with the others had started to grow, but I still wasn't sure how to interpret the hesitant linger of his hand against mine as I passed him something, or the casual way his arm would rest across my back at lunch.
"You don't have to do this you know. I could just wash them out," I murmured, feeling a little self-conscious. Although it'd just been the two of us earlier in the week, being alone in Edward's kitchen somehow seemed more intimate than the carefree situation we'd created on the barn roof.
"They'd just get stuck if you got them wet. Besides, I don't mind so much." I could hear the smile in his voice, and his fingers combed through my hair again. Edward seemed content so I let him continue without further argument. Closing my eyes, I relaxed into the chair and inhaled deeply. His kitchen smelled of peaches. Rose must have been by.
I tried to imagine for a minute what it might be like to bake for Edward, to see his face as he bit into my honey vanilla pound cake. It had been years since I'd made it; Jacob had never even tried it, insisting that he was sweet enough. I took another breath and sighed, Rose's peaches bringing me back to the present and the careful way Edward was removing the seeds.
His fingertips skimmed my shoulders, and I shivered minutely at the unexpected contact. "That's the last of them," he said, walking to the open window and releasing the tiny white parachutes back out into the breeze.
"Thank you."
Edward smiled, hesitating against the remaining afternoon light. "Why don't you head upstairs and take a bath?" He inclined his head toward the stairs.
"Um, sure," I said, standing up but averting my eyes, still feeling a little awkward.
"The bathroom's right at the end of the hall at the top. I'll make us something to eat for when you're done."
Edward's bathroom was beautiful in its simplicity. The wooden floor was dark and matched the finishings throughout, while the near empty walls were painted a pale silvery grey. A circular mirror, mounted on the wall above the sink, pulled a small amount of light from the west facing window, warming the room despite its size. Hanging over the hamper was a small painting of a man and a boy pushing a boat out onto the water. The frame was old but cared for; it was obviously important to Edward.
The bath was deep and the water cool on my heated skin. The scent of Edward's lemon and spice soap swirled around me, filling my senses as I lathered it between my hands, and as I closed my eyes, smoothing the bubbles over my skin, I found myself back in the Miller's barn looking up into Edward's eyes.
"Bella?" Edward's unexpected voice just outside the door made me jump, causing the water to slosh a little as I slid in the tub. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I called out, tucking my legs up to my chest and hearing his hand fall from the door handle.
"I've left something out for you to put on. You can use my room; it's on the left when you come out."
I smiled and pressed my lips against my knee.
"Right, well, I'll see you back downstairs, Bella." I could hear the nerves in his voice and I wondered how long it had been since there'd been a naked girl in Edward's bathtub. As soon as the idea crossed my mind I felt my brow pinch. I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer to that.
"I won't be long, Edward." His footsteps retreated slowly from the door, and I quickly finished in the bath, the water almost cold now.
Just as Edward had said, I found a soft cotton button-up shirt on his bed, and a pair of cotton shorts. Looking in the full length mirror, I turned, marvelling at how much smaller I somehow seemed—cocooned—wrapped so completely in clothes too large for my body. Wrapped in Edward. I rolled up the waistband, and the sleeves, but could do nothing to keep the shirt on both of my shoulders.
As I padded into the kitchen with my dusty, damp clothes in my hands, I saw that Edward had changed. He was no longer wearing his jeans, but instead wore dark lounge pants with a clean vest. His hair was damp and pushed back off his forehead.
"You've showered," I said, a little unsurely. I'd been in the bathroom after all and I'd never seen Edward's house before.
Edward stopped slicing the cooked chicken for a moment and turned his head to look at me, his eyes appraising as he smiled kindly. I was suddenly aware of the fact that his shirt obscured the shorts.
"Yeah," he replied. "I've been up since dawn workin' on the porch. I took a quick shower down here while you were coolin' off."
"Sorry, I shouldn't have monopolized your bathroom."
"You didn't." He smiled again. "You can toss those in the washer," he said, nodding his head toward the items I held, before turning back to the chicken.
"Thanks." The utility room was small but just off the kitchen, and as I loaded the machine, I could see Edward working on dinner.
"Thought we'd have chicken salad with warm rolls for supper. You wanna give me a hand?" Edward asked.
"Sure."
I sliced tomatoes and peppers, while Edward finished up the chicken, taking time to slice some bacon and grate some Jack cheese. I tossed it all together as Edward pulled the rolls from the stove. The table was set, and before we sat down, he grabbed a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and some dressing too.
~oOo~
"This'll be cold," Edward murmured. I hummed my acknowledgement and braced myself as I sat between his thighs. "Relax, Bella." I felt him move behind me, pulling away from his position against the couch. I couldn't control the shiver that rolled through my body as his breath washed over my bare skin. I shifted slightly, gripping the front of the shirt I was wearing and stopping it from falling any further down my arms.
Leaning forward, I rested my forehead against my knees. "I'm fine you know. This really isn't necessary," I whispered, my voice muffled.
"We can sit on the couch if you're uncomfortable down here," Edward offered, brushing my hair forward with his hand, grazing my neck with his fingers before letting my hair fall down my chest. We were both sitting on the floor in Edward's living room, with only a few candles lit, casting a shadowy glow across the walls.
During dinner the atmosphere had become more relaxed. Edward and I had managed to recapture the easiness that we'd shared out on the Miller's ranch, and I was relieved that we hadn't lost that.
"No, I'm good here." As I spoke, I felt the chill of a wet cotton ball swipe over my shoulder blade and I gasped.
"You'll get used to it in a second," Edward reassured. "It's just 'cause your skin's so hot. Can't do anything about the coatin' of pink you're gonna end up with though. Sorry." Edward chuckled under his breath as he apologised. I was no stranger to calamine lotion. Alice and I had fallen victim to poison ivy more than once, and we'd worn our pink splotches with pride.
"You mean this particular shade of pink isn't flattering, Masen?" I teased.
"Not at all," he replied ambiguously, blowing a stream of air across my heated back.
We sat in silence for a moment, and as we did, I realized that for all the time I'd spent with Edward since my return to Masen, I didn't really know anything about his life. Throughout high school we'd never really been friends; he'd teased me, and I'd tried to stay out of his way. I knew he'd been raised by his grandfather, but I knew nothing about his parents or how they'd died. Aro had asked me about Edward's girlfriends but I couldn't answer his questions; in fact if I really thought about it, I knew very little about Edward.
His family had founded the town but Edward didn't strut through it with a sense of entitlement. He clearly worked hard for what he could call his own—this last week was evidence enough of that. But I wanted to know more. Edward wasn't just the last son in a long line of Masens; I wanted to discover the man beneath the surface of the town's perceptions.
"Bella?"
"Huh?"
"I asked what made you wanna walk all day in this heat." He playfully tugged my hair, pulling me back to the moment.
"Sorry, I was…thinking." I chuckled under my breath. I hadn't even realized that Edward had spoken. I took a deep breath and licked my lips. "Charlie gave me the final papers from my divorce this morning. As of two weeks ago, I'm no longer married."
"I'm sorry, Bella," Edward said, continuing to sweep the lotion covered ball over my skin, coating my shoulder. "Maybe now that it's all over you can start to move forward?"
"It's been over for a while, Edward. I just didn't want to see it." I sighed as Edward's fingertips brushed across my skin, the slightest ghost of a touch. "My lawyer sent the settlement too. Charlie wouldn't let me tear it up."
Edward laughed, his exhale stirring whips of hair at my neck. "That sounds like the Chief."
"I'm not banking it. It's sitting in a drawer in the kitchen," I said, though I was unsure why I was telling Edward about the mundane details.
"Don't you feel like you deserve it for what you gave up, Bella?" Edward asked, more curious than anything else, but never telling me what I should be doing or thinking.
"You sound like Charlie," I replied, remembering what my father had said, as I fingered the check, over French toast this morning.
He took two years of marriage without battin' an eyelid, and what you wanted was put on hold. You're only gettin' what's rightfully yours. What you're holdin' hardly makes up for what he took from you, sweetheart, but it's a damn good start. Don't think of it as a settlement check, think of it as an open door to your dreams.
"I don't want to live off his money. I just want a clean break," I explained, my voice sounding a little more forced than I had hoped.
"Relax, Bella," Edward soothed, running his palms down my back, carefully slipping the shirt a little lower. I realized that, while I spoke, my body had stiffened, straining in the defensive. "It's your choice now. You don't have to answer to anyone."
Edward blew another stream of air across my raw skin and the tension melted away, sliding down my spine and giving way to the understanding that he was right; I had choices now. A tiny bloom of light seemed to take root in my chest and I smiled, mentally acknowledging the baby steps I was still taking.
"Thank you, Edward," I whispered sincerely, muffling my voice against my arms as they rested across my knees. I felt a fresh cotton ball flit across the still warm skin of my spine, and shivered once more at the cold lotion. "I don't want to talk about me anymore. Can we talk about you?"
"Sure," he said, hesitating against my skin. "What do you wanna know?"
I wanted to know everything, but knew I would have to tread carefully. I bit my bottom lip for a moment, contemplating the best place to start, when Edward spoke again.
"I'd tell you anything, Bella. Everything. I have no secrets." His words made my eyes prickle with tears and I was thankful to have him at my back, unable to see my face.
"How's Aro doing?" I asked after a moment, remembering that he'd been struggling a little when I'd been over to read to him last.
While I'd hidden from the town after Jacob left, Aro Masen had provided a beautiful solace in his home. The world through his eyes was pure and untainted, and served to remove me from the chaos that I was trying to avoid. The Aro I had caught a glimspe of weeks ago in the garden didn't reappear, but I listened as he spoke of his wife and of Edward's father as if they were still present in his life.
"A little better." Edward sighed as he stopped smoothing the calamine lotion on my skin.
"Edward?"
"It's worse—he's worse." The gentle strokes of the cotton ball began again as Edward took a deep breath. "Doc says he's only got a few weeks left, maybe less." Edward's voice broke, and he cleared his throat.
The light that had crept into my chest started to flicker, and the anguish I knew Edward would be experiencing—the same anguish and heartache I'd felt fifteen years ago—threatened to snuff it out. I lowered my hands to Edward's shins, his legs spread out on either side of my curled up body, and tentatively ran my fingers over the fabric of his pants. I wanted him to know that he wasn't alone, that as much as he'd let me when he first told me about Aro, I could help him bare his burden. He didn't have to be strong in front of me.
The gesture seemed to be enough, and as Edward continued speaking, I was grateful because at that moment I hadn't the words.
"I'm ready," he murmured roughly, his voice tight with emotion. "I've known for a while that it's been comin', and I'm ready—so's he—but it doesn't make it any easier. To watch him suffer every day, to war with what he thinks he knows against what is real. It's torture." As he moved, the tips of Edward's hair tickled their way across the sensitive flesh of my back, and I kept on trailing my fingers over his legs, unwilling to linger on the feel of what was stirring in the air around us.
I knew only too well the torture and agony that Edward spoke of. I was only a little girl when Renee passed but I remembered how Charlie had walked around for weeks, like the other half of him was missing. How for hours at a time I would curl up at the bottom of her closet, smelling her in the air and hearing her when I closed my eyes.
Memories of my mom's last days with us flickered through my thoughts, and I tried to stifle my tears.
Charlie carrying her out to the porch swing so she could watch the sunrise. Her brushing my hair, when she had none of her own left, telling me I was beautiful and would always be loved. Me snuggling into her side in the mornings because she didn't have the strength to get out of bed. Finally the church and a sea of black, interspersed with orange tulips. Crying and cotton handkerchiefs, half the town telling me they were sorry, while I didn't understand why.
"I know it's hard," I said, my voice soft and low.
"I've lost everyone," Edward lamented, pressing his forehead gently between my shoulder blades and placing his hands on his knees, his fingers almost reaching for mine. "For almost twenty years, Aro's all I've had. He raised me after my parents…" A rush of air shot down my spin as Edward exhaled hard.
"It's okay, you don't have to tell me." I didn't want to force anything he wasn't ready to share.
Edward's breath hitched, and I let my hands encompass his, linking our fingers and pulling his arms around my waist. It was awkward, but I hoped he understood that I was trying to ground him in the only way I knew how. Edward's arms tightened as he pulled me back against him. His body was warm next to my already overheated skin but I made no move to adjust our positions.
"I only know what Aro's told me, and what I've discovered from the records office," he began, sounding almost absent, as if removing himself from the conversation emotionally would make it less painful. "I was five years old and my parents were out of town. I was staying with my grandparents and thought nothing of it when mom and dad weren't home on time. Aro and I could get lost in our adventures and my parents often didn't want to disrupt that."
I squeezed his hands in quiet encouragement.
"It was two days before they told me that my parents weren't coming home, couldn't ever come home. The police report says that their car swerved into a tree, probably avoiding something on the road, but there were no witnesses, no one saw anything." Edward pressed his nose into my hair, inhaling briefly and I was glad in that moment to be his anchor in a bleak sea.
"Dad was driving. They didn't suffer." His voice became gravelly, and I wondered if Edward had ever spoken about his parents' deaths before tonight. "They both died on impact." I felt something trickle down my back, and knew by the shaky breath behind me that Edward was crying. At least I'd had the chance to say goodbye to Renee, and I still had Charlie. Edward still felt their deaths so deeply and I wondered if that was, in part, because he'd never had the same opportunity I'd had.
"Grandma never recovered. She spent most of the next two years in bed, mourning the lost of her son. She died when I was seven, leaving Aro to try and do the best he could."
I blinked hard trying to clear the moisture from my eyes, but it was hopeless. The tears spilled and I silently grieved for Edward's parents, his grandma, my mom, and both of our losses. Of course, each of our circumstances was different, but we weren't so dissimilar, Edward and I.
"So you see, once Aro goes, it'll just be me in his big old house. The last of the Masens." Silence fell over the living room, and I ran my thumbs over Edward's work roughened skin. "I need a drink." His voice sounded resigned as he unwrapped himself from around me and stood up. "You want anything?" he called from the kitchen.
"Whatever you're having's fine."
Edward returned with two beers, unscrewing the caps and passing one to me.
"Do you want to talk about something else?" I asked gently, twisting my head to look at him. Edward settled back behind me, and as he dropped his head for a moment, his hair brushed against my neck. I closed my eyes this time, allowing myself to focus on the softness of his hair, and the way our breathing evened out together—just like it had in the barn. Edward's fingers skimmed mine again before linking our hands together like before.
The atmosphere suddenly seemed to change. In the demi-glow, and under the feather light touches of Edward's caress, an unfamiliar charge filled the room. His breath felt cool on the exposed skin of my back, and it radiated throughout my entire body. It was like I was coming alive. For the first time, all of my senses were completely aware of the man behind me—and it was, in equal parts, exhilarating and terrifying. I wondered if Edward could feel it too, or if I was looking for things that weren't there in a bid to avoid the bigger picture.
I was drawn to Edward, I could feel it. Almost like tiny threads were slowing casting off from my own body and attaching themselves to his with each passing hour or day we spent together. His pain felt like mine, and I shared it willingly, just as he had been there for me. Every smile or laugh we shared eased the ache that had settled in my chest, and with each renewed breath, I struggled more and more to define what that ache actually embodied. Was it the realization that Jacob had probably never loved me? Or was it the failure I felt in myself for not expecting more, for not wanting more for myself? After all, even though Jacob had been the one to outline our future, I had stood back and accepted what he had offered.
Being with Edward posed questions I didn't have answers to. I had received plenty of answers tonight; I knew more about Edward and the brave face he wore for others, but I wasn't ready to take a closer look at me yet. My answers would have to wait.
In an effort to lighten the tone, I asked one other question I had been curious about for days.
"How'd you get the scar on your chin?" I drank from my bottle while I waited for Edward to speak.
"Huh?" He put his bottle down on the end table next to the couch, and I did the same.
"The scar," I repeated, twisting against him and running my finger along the faded silvery-white line. "On your chin." The day's growth along his jaw, scratched at my fingertips, and I watched, transfixed by the amber-gold hues growing through among the darker shades. He grinned down at me, his eyes shining with humor rather than the sorrow of our previous conversation.
"How d'ya think?" he teased.
I continued running my nails lightly over Edward's scruff, and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply. I thought back to my initial list of possibilities, and knew I couldn't mention anything about a car accident, not after what he had just told me. That left me with two options. If I worded it right, maybe I could get the answer to Aro's question too.
"Well at first I thought it was a bar fight. You know, like you broke something up at Whitlock's? But now I remember it was Emmett that took James outside, so I don't think that's part of what you do there." I swirled my finger around his chin again, tracing his scar slowly.
Edward hummed, either content or in agreement. "No bar fights. What else you got?" he asked, his voice low and husky. Edward turned his hand over in mine, pressing our palms together and running his thumb over the back of my hand. My skin grew warm under his touch, and I mentally kicked myself for drinking alcohol when I'd been in the sun all day.
"I'm just left with a fight over a girl then." I shrugged and felt his chest bounce against me as he laughed.
"Do I seem that violent to you? Do you really think I'm the sorta guy that just goes around punchin' people?" His tone was playful, but as his eyes opened and bore into mine, I knew he wanted an answer.
I thought back to the afternoon that Jacob had come to the house, when Charlie had punched him and Edward had tried to be the mediator; back to the time that Edward had sat in his truck while Jasper spoke to Jacob, and Edward had seethed by my side. I'd known then that it wasn't in Edward's nature to throw his fists. Sadness and loss balanced the anger that I knew could boil beneath the surface, but he had the self-control to walk away, to be the bigger man.
"No," I murmured, searching his eyes. "No, I don't." They softened, the mossy green liquefying with the burning flecks of citrine swimming there.
"It's from the claw of my hammer. First job I ever did I got my face too close to the damn thing." Edward laughed softly through his nose. "Besides, I've never really had time for girlfriends." Without permission, my chest pinched, and I tried to shake the sense of disappointment that started to creep over me. "Work and Aro take up most of the time I have." His grandfather would have been devastated to hear Edward's confession.
Edward's free hand skimmed my ribs tenderly. "How's your bruisin'?" he asked, shifting the subject back to me.
"Better now." I held my breath when Edward flattened his hand against the area that had been raised and purple just over a week ago. He pushed me forward gently, and shifted to the side of me.
"Can I?" he asked, his hands hesitating at the hem of the oversized shirt that hid my body. I nodded and bit my lip, not trusting myself to speak as Edward lifted the fabric high enough to see my ribs, but not high enough to expose any other part of me. "Much better." I knew that the bruising had faded, leaving only the hint of yellowing under the skin.
"Edward, I should probably go home, it's getting late." I had no idea what time it was, but it had been dark outside for the last few hours. Edward dropped the handful of fabric he was still clutching and cleared his throat.
"I've been drinkin'. I'll call your dad, see if he can come get you." Edward stood awkwardly, stretching his arms over his head, showing a slice of his stomach and the line of hair that disappeared beneath his lounge pants.
"Um, sure," I replied, clearing our beer bottles from the table and heading for the kitchen. I heard Edward's muffled voice as he spoke to Charlie. My clothes had finished washing and I had just transferred them to the dryer when Edward came in and leaned against the fridge.
"So, there's a bit of a problem," Edward said, scratching the back of his neck.
"Is Charlie okay?" I asked, suddenly worried. I hadn't checked in all day.
"No! He's fine, Christ. Sorry, Bella." Edward shook his head. "But he's been drinkin' too."
"Oh." Was that all? I sighed in relief. Then I realized what Edward meant. "Ohhh," I said as more of a breath.
"I can get Carmen to drive you home."
I looked at the clock hanging over the stove: 11:47pm. It was too late to be dragging people from their beds.
"It's fine, I don't wanna wake people. I'll just—"
"Don't even think about it," Edward warned. I frowned. Walking wouldn't be so bad, I'd arrived the same way and the air would be cooler at least. "It's late, you should stay. Let me just call your dad back." I began to protest, but Edward held up his hand, silencing my attempts.
Two minutes later Edward was back in the kitchen. "Okay, it's done. Charlie'll see you in the mornin'." I twisted a button on the shirt I was wearing—Edward's shirt—and considered how I felt about what was happening. "Don't panic, Bella. I only have one bed, but it's yours. I'll sleep on the couch." My eyes darted to the comfortable love seat, too small for Edward's tall frame.
I raised my eyebrows at him. "I'll fit better on there than you will," I said flatly. "Where are the extra blankets?"
Edward scoffed. "It's not happenin', Bella."
"How about a compromise?" I asked, unable to believe what I was about to suggest.
"Like?"
"We're adults, and friends; we could share. I trust you." And as I spoke the words aloud I knew they were true. It was Edward's turn to protest, and this time I held up my hand. "Ally and I are best friends and we used to have sleepovers all the time." I smiled, trying to ease his hesitation.
"It's hardly the same, Baby Bell," Edward whispered, his voice strained. "Charlie'd have my hide." His laugh was faint as he shook his head.
I walked to him and slipped my hand into his. "Charlie's not here, and I'm a grown woman. Come on." The walk up to his room was slow, and the closer we got, the tighter Edward's grip became around my fingers. After quickly taking turns in the bathroom, we found ourselves turning down the bed and climbing under the sheets.
Edward flicked off the light and although I'd previously found comfort in the timing of our breaths, the rise and fall of our bodies, lying with him by my side brought back painful memories of the last time I'd shared a bed and heard whispers in the dark.
When he spoke, it was like he knew—like he understood how I was feeling. "Thanks for bein' here tonight, Bella. I needed you here." Edward's soft voice warmed the darkness in the way that only it could, and a shuddering sigh seemed to echo through my chest as I quelled a sob.
"You're welcome, Edward." And he was, because in that moment there was nowhere else I'd rather have been.
A/N: Thanks to anyone still reading; I'll post again as soon as possible.
Mojo Music: Our Love Is Easy by Melody Gardot
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