Chapter 5
BPOV
"Damn it," I mutter angrily as I reach for the towel to wipe up my mess.
Again.
Jesus, it's been like this ever since yesterday afternoon when I saw … him. My mind's as scattered as the seeds of a dandelion flower that have been carried by the wind and I can't concentrate on anything. Not to mention that every time I close my eyes, I see flashes of ink-covered skin, copper-hued hair, and eyes that change color as fast as I can imagine them. I haven't even heard his voice … but I sure as hell know his name. Peyton hasn't been able to stop talking about him. It's been 'I wonder if Edward likes this' and 'Maybe Edward likes that' practically nonstop now.
Who is he?
Why is he here?
Why does he look afraid one minute and angry the next?
Why does my daughter talk about him like he's the best thing since Tom Brady let his hair grow?
Why can't I stop thinking about him?
Round and round and round my mind keeps skipping from one question to the other without ever getting an answer. I know my dad offered Edward a job on the boat at Carlisle's request and that immediately has me wondering what the hell's going on. It's not like I question my dad's or even Carlisle's judgment, but this whole thing has set me on edge and I don't understand why.
I drape the towel over the edge of the sink and start to fill my glass with water again when I hear, "Bella!" The glass I'm holding clangs in the sink and I turn around, scowling at my brother.
"Damn it, Emmett, what the hell?"
Looking at me like I've clearly lost my mind he says, "Excuse me, sis. I've only been calling your name for like two minutes now. What the hell are you thinking about so hard?"
He approaches warily, squinting his eyes at me. I hate when he does that because more than likely he's trying to figure out what I'm not telling him, so I quickly turn away.
"Bella, what's the matter with you? Rose told me you were spacing out every few minutes at the restaurant today … and that you had to send food back - twice - because you messed up the order. Spill it. What has you jumpier than a jackrabbit?" Emmett asks in his no-nonsense voice.
I slam the glass on the dish rack like the reason I can't seem to even pour myself some water is its fault and not my own and then turn back toward my brother. My arms immediately cross on my chest and my pose is defensive. I hope my attitude will convince him to back the hell off but I'm pretty sure the chances of that happening are slim to none.
"Is Peyton okay? Are you two having problems? Do you need me to talk to her?" he fires at me one after the other and immediately I feel like shit.
"No, Em, Peyton's just fine. As a matter-of-fact she's still floating on cloud nine since she beat Brody yesterday," I tell him, trying not to sound as smug as he looks.
Apparently we're all living vicariously through my seven-year-old daughter. I can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
Luckily, the subject of Peyton diverts his attention away from me. I love my brother, but he has a tendency to jump to conclusions about what's best for me without thinking about what he says first. We're close, but I'd be lying if I say he is my go-to person when I need advice. In his eyes, I've always been the little sister that follows him around like a little puppy dog. He's somehow failed to realize that I've grown up, though you would think the fact that I'm a mom would be his first clue. He always means well and most of the time only has my best interest at heart, but he doesn't really know me or what I want. He certainly doesn't know how often I wake up, gasping for breath, from the nightmares that never seem to go away.
A loud groan erupts from the living room and both Em and I head in that direction. Peyton's sitting in my dad's lap watching the baseball game from his favorite recliner. Rose and my mom are looking at a catalog together on the sofa and I watch as Emmett plops down beside her. With barely a second thought, his arm goes around her shoulders and her body molds itself against his. It's almost like her body's a part of his and they've been apart for too long.
You would think that after seeing each other every day for twenty-five years, with the exception of the days Emmett is out on the boat with the crew and our dad, that type of reaction would wane over time. But no, not for my brother and sister-in-law. Much like my parents, their love for each other has only grown. Not gonna lie, it's damn hard most of the time to be around him and Rose … Jasper and Alice, too, for that matter, which is why I spend the majority of my time hanging out with Xavier and Seth.
Even though they're in as a committed relationship as the others, it doesn't bother me as much to see them being affectionate with each other as it does Em and Rose and Jasper and Ali. I have no idea what that says about me … I don't want to know. I hate myself at times for being jealous of my family and friends because they have something I want, but no matter how hard I try not to be, it doesn't always work. For the most part, I manage to keep those feelings buried deep inside, wishing that they would never see the light of day. There are times the struggle to keep them hidden just becomes too much and they creep up to the surface and poke their heads out just long enough to remind me they are always there.
Kind of like right now.
"Pop, we're gonna lose, aren't we?" Peyton whines with a sad huff.
My gaze flickers to the screen where Derek Jeter has just hit a home run putting the evil Yankees ahead of her beloved Red Sox.
My dad ruffles her hair and kisses her forehead, smirking just a bit. "I'm afraid so, Pumpkin. Good thing they're playing again tomorrow night. We'll get 'em, don't worry."
She leans forward to kiss his cheek then scrambles off his lap to stand in front of him. "Well, we'd better," she says with her hands on her little hips. "Losing sucks."
"Peyton Renée," I scold though it doesn't come out sounding much like one considering I'm trying to keep from laughing.
My little girl is very … VERY passionate about her sports teams. A trait she's most definitely picked up from her grandfather. The one who's trying to not look all proud and shit of her attitude.
"Dad," I warn when I see his mouth twitch beneath his mustache.
My mom snickers and I turn to look at her, not missing at all the fist bump my dad gives Peyton. The only thing I can do is shake my head and say a silent thanks that it isn't football season. You don't want to be within shouting distance of the Swan house during football season … especially if the Patriots are losing. And God help you if you're not a Patriots fan … or a Tom Brady fan.
I lean back on my elbows where I've been sitting on the floor and tell my mom, "You know, you could help do something about him."
As soon as the words leave my mouth I can tell they come out harsher than I mean for them to. I take a deep breath and tip my head back, staring at the ceiling.
The silence that follows is uncomfortable and I know I should apologize for snapping, but I don't. I will later because that's just the way our family works, but it doesn't have to be right now. Between the nightmare the other night, the whole sudden appearance of Edward and the uneasy feeling that gives me, on top of feeling sorry for myself, I know I've been acting out of sorts for the past few days.
"Come on, Peyton," my mom says after another moment. "Let's go in the kitchen and fix dessert. I think we have some apple pie and vanilla ice cream."
I cringe a little from the tone of her voice. Peyton doesn't pay any attention to it because all she heard was the word dessert and she's out of the room like her pants are on fire, but I do. I sheepishly look at Mom and hang my head. Yep, I'm definitely going to have to apologize before we leave.
Rose follows my mom out but not before giving me a look that lets me know my mom isn't the only one expecting something from me. She's been hovering at the restaurant because I know she can sense I'm keeping something from her. As much as I love her, it sucks sometimes that she knows me so well. Groaning once they leave the room, I flop down on my back and reach up to grab a pillow off the couch to hold over my face. Maybe the lack of oxygen will snuff out all the self-pitying thoughts I have rolling around in my crazy mind.
"Bella," my dad chastises me and I groan even louder.
"Yes, Dad, I know," I say through the pillow, though I'm not at all sure he can understand a word that's come out of my mouth seeing as how my face is still buried.
Apparently both my dad and Emmett decide to let me stew in my fabric-induced cage. I tune them out until I hear Edward's name, which in turn makes my breathing pick up, my skin feel like thousands of caterpillars are crawling all over me, and my stomach does a few hundred annoying somersaults all in a row.
Pulling the pillow from my face, I look up at my dad and try to figure out exactly what he and Emmett are talking about. I kind of lost focus when I heard Edward's name.
"I think he did well for his first day," Charlie's saying and I gather that Emmett has asked about my dad's first impression of Edward.
I'm all ears.
I turn and look at my brother and he shifts on the couch and throws his arm casually along the back of the sofa.
Em nods in agreement and for reasons I don't even want to think about, the fact that both of them have positive things to say about Edward makes my heart skip a beat.
I open my mouth to say something and the words get stuck in my throat. Coughing, I try again. "What do you know about him?"
I hope my question sounds blasé, but I don't think I'm fooling anyone. In fact, when my dad raises his eyebrow at me, I know I haven't, but I don't care. The man looked at my daughter like she was an oasis in the middle of the desert. While it didn't necessarily frighten me like I am afraid he has nefarious intentions or anything, it did … and does make me uneasy. I'd be a fool if it didn't and I don't feel the least bit bad about asking for answers either.
I'm a mom first, always, and Peyton's well-being is more important than anything, even giving people the benefit of the doubt like I've been raised to do.
When it comes to my little girl, niceties and proper behavior can take a flying leap for all I care, and my parents and brother should all be well aware of that fact by now.
I hold my dad's gaze, not backing down. Finally he purses his lips and then sits back in his chair. "From what Carlisle has told me, Edward's from Boston, got into a bit of trouble, and now he's looking for a fresh start."
Well, if that's not … incredibly vague, I think and snort before looking at my dad. "And?"
"And what, Bella? Carlisle asked me to do a favor for him. I need a new guy, so I'm going to see how it all works out. End of story," Charlie tells me and I know I'm staring at him like he's got two heads.
"End of story?" I whisper fiercely when I pop up off the ground. "What the hell, Dad? You don't know this guy from Adam and you're just willing to give him a job on your boat? You trust him enough to take him out on the water, to have him work with Jasper and Emmett? To let him be around Mom or Rose and Ali … Peyton?" I know my eyes are shooting fire at him.
My hands shake and I take a few deep breaths so that I don't say something totally inappropriate like asking him if he's lost his ever-loving mind. I hear Emmett snicker beside me and I whip around and look at him.
"And you?" I hiss, pointing a trembling finger at him. "You trust him, too, I suppose."
"Bella, would you calm the hell down." Charlie's tone makes me sit down and mash my lips together so my mouth doesn't get me in more trouble than it already has.
He sits up in his chair and leans forward. "Now, if you think you can talk without shrieking like a damn banshee, why don't you tell me what's got you in such a tizzy, hmmm?"
I obviously can't tell my father that just the man's name makes me want to run and hide beneath the covers in my bed. My reactions to Edward aren't normal … even I realize that, but I can't think about them now. Telling myself that I have every right to be concerned and wary, I forge ahead. "I just find it odd that Carlisle calls you up right when you need to find a new deckhand and you hire him on the spot, with nothing more than Carlisle's assurance that he's a good guy. The man could be a serial killer or wanted by the FBI for all you know. I just don't get it." I cringe a little bit because I know I'm sounding more like my seven-year-old than the twenty-seven year-old woman I am, but I can't help it.
There's something more going on. I can feel it. Until I know what it is, I'm keeping my guard up and my eyes open, manners be damned.
"Bella, do you honestly think I'd just hire some yahoo off the street without doing any checking? Give me a break, kid. I've been doing this a hell of a long time you know," he tells me with a pointed look. "Carlisle told me a bit about Edward's story and after watching him, I can tell he's just trying to start over. He worked damn hard today and until he proves otherwise, I'm willing to give him a chance."
His tone is final and I know there isn't anything I can say to sway his opinion, not that I would anyway. My dad isn't easily fooled, so if he sees something in Edward that he's inclined to believe, then I'm just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. I still have every intention of keeping Peyton as far away from him as I can … myself, too. There just isn't any other option.
"I'm going to get dessert." My dad gets up from his chair and walks into the kitchen.
Well, if that isn't a dismissal, I don't know what is. I'm annoyed because I want more answers, but it's fairly obvious either my dad doesn't have them or isn't going to share them. My bet is it's a combination of both.
I start to stand up but Emmett grabs my wrist. When I turn my head toward him, he's looking at me with a mixture of confusion and worry. "Sis, are you going to tell me the real reason you're acting weirder than shit?"
Gently, because I don't want to get into it, especially with him, I pull my hand away. He wouldn't understand anyway … mostly because I don't understand it myself. "It's nothing, Emmett," I tell him and head toward the kitchen.
I hear him sigh behind me and there's something about the way it sounds, sad and heavy, that makes me turn around even though I don't want to.
"Someday, Bella, you're going to have to take down that wall you've been hiding behind." His eyes are filled with so much sadness I have to turn away.
"I wish I could," I whisper and it's so soft it comes out as barely louder than a breath. I don't think Emmett even heard me but when I hear the low groan from behind me, I know he did.
I don't turn around though; I can't, and instead plaster another fake smile on my face and enter the kitchen. The smile turns into a real one at the sight of my daughter sitting with my dad at the table while they discuss the baseball game they just finished watching. I take the opportunity to sidle up next to my mom at the sink and kiss her quickly on the cheek before mumbling a very soft, but no less sincere, "I'm sorry for snapping at you," in her ear.
She immediately covers my hand with hers and gives it a slight squeeze and I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding. It's not the first time I've snapped at her, nor will it be the last, but the fact is I'm a Swan and we all have quick tempers. Sometimes they flare up at the worst times.
"You okay?" she asks me and when I nod my head she narrows her hazel eyes at me and gives me the "Mom" look. Knowing me as well as she does, she rubs a small circle on my back and then thankfully leaves me be.
We stay long enough for Peyton to finish her pie and the extra scoop of ice cream my dad sneaks her and then it's time to go. Her last day of school is tomorrow and she needs to go home and get to bed. I tell myself I'm not trying to get out of there so I can be alone, but of course I know better. It's times like this when I'm very thankful that I stuck to my guns when I was pregnant and insisted on getting my own house. I can't lie … it's damn lonely at times, but I need my space.
Of course, the little voice inside my head that always seems to know when I'm lying is tsking her tongue at me and I silently concede that going home to an empty house isn't really what I want at all. When the little voice tells me "that's better," I smile and then realize I'm having a conversation … with myself.
Shaking my head at my idiotic mental ramblings, I usher Peyton out the door with a final wave to our family and we walk the short distance from my parents' house to our own. The night is cool. There's still a hint of warmth in the air and the slight breeze makes Peyton's hair flutter around her face as she skips and bounces beside me. I have half a mind to turn around and leave her with my father so he can tend to her sugar overload right before bed.
"Mom, tomorrow's my last day of school!" she squeals out of nowhere and I chuckle at the sound of her voice.
"Really?" I tease. "I didn't know that."
"Mom," Peyton says, completely exasperated with me and I smirk. "I wonder what Edward's first day was like?" she innocently asks and immediately the calm I'd felt settle around us during our walk completely evaporates. Again I'm consumed with the way he looked as he entered the restaurant yesterday, and though I've convinced myself that I have every right to be wary of him, I worry just a tiny bit about what he thinks of me. Okay, I worry a lot about what he thinks of me. After listening to my father and brother talk, neither of whom hand out praise easily, I know he had to have made a good impression on them because they both complimented how hard he'd worked out on the water today.
In the midst of all my thinking we manage to make it home. Once we get inside, I send Peyton upstairs to take a bath while I lock up the house. I'm tired suddenly, and hope that sleep comes easily tonight. I lie in bed with Peyton while we read together, until her eyes droop so much I can pull the book from her fingers with no argument. When I scoot off the bed, I stand up and stretch; my muscles are heavy and tense and the idea of a shower seems like heaven. My eyes find Peyton and my heart swells with love. The worries about Edward and all the rest simply fade away. She's the center of my universe and the reason I get up every morning. Kissing her on the forehead, I tuck the covers around her knowing that in a matter of minutes, they'll be in a tangled mess around her little body. I close the window just a bit and then with one last glance, quietly make my way to my room.
Alone … always alone.
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
Waking after what has to be the most restless night's sleep in I can't remember how long, I stretch and think about what to make Peyton for breakfast. It's the last day of school so it deserves to be something special. Summer is always such a fun time and ever since she started school, it's been the time of year I look forward to more than any other. I keep the same schedule as I do while she's in school. It gives us time together in the morning before we head to the restaurant. We usually read on the front porch or take a walk on the beach … just something quiet so that we can enjoy each other's company. Now that Peyton's a bit older, she helps during lunchtime rolling silverware and bringing drinks to the tables then usually goes and spends the afternoon with Aggie or with her friends before coming back to The Breakers for dinner before we go home.
It's a simple life but it's all I know and we're happy … well, she is at any rate. That's all that matters to me.
Once my hair is up in its ever-present ponytail and my face is washed, I walk down the hall to wake up Peyton. To say she isn't a morning person is like asking her if she hates the New York Giants. There are very few things in her life she takes as seriously as her hatred for the New York Giants football team, thanks to her Pop Charlie, except for sleeping. The girl enjoys a good night's sleep more than anyone I've ever seen and getting her up in the morning is like waking a bear out of hibernation.
I can't help but smile when I slowly open the door because it never fails that she's spread out all over the bed. This morning she's lying sideways across the mattress, flat on her back, with her mouth hanging open. I stifle a giggle because she's snoring softly and her tongue is hanging out the side and it's about the cutest thing I've ever seen. There's a brief pang of regret when I realize I don't have anyone to share moments like this with, but I shake it off as quickly as it comes. Peyton and I have been just fine for the past seven years by ourselves and we'll continue to be that way.
Gently I sit on the edge of her bed and brush the hair back from her face. Whispering I say, "Baby, it's time to get up," and bend over to kiss her forehead.
She groans and grumbles as she stretches and then finally cracks an eye open to look at me. She's got a scowl on her face and I laugh and tickle her sides. "Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Today's the last day of school. You should be happy!"
Her eyes grow big. It's obvious she forgot what today is and then a huge smile breaks out on her face. She leaps out of bed, well, more like stumbles and somehow lands on her feet and then pumps her fist in the air. "Yes!" she yells and then spins around in a circle. "Three whole months with no school! Hurry, Mom! Go make breakfast!" she tells me as she pulls me off the bed and pushes me out the door.
"Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes," I call back as I walk toward the stairs. "Pancakes with strawberries."
I wait for the squeak, which I hear from behind her closed door.
The fact that something as simple as making her favorite breakfast makes her so happy warms my heart and eases those ever-present doubts of not being enough for her.
I make my way to the kitchen and start our special last day of school breakfast. By the time I'm slicing the strawberries to put on top of the pancakes, Peyton is sliding into her seat at the table. She's dressed in her usual shorts and a t-shirt. She's tried to get her hair up into a ponytail but all she's managed to do is make a tangled mess because she's missed half her hair.
"Nice hairdo," I tell her with a grin as I slide her plate in front of her.
She shrugs her shoulders because most of the time my daughter couldn't care less what she looks like. She figures she's doing well if her clothes match and she's brushed her teeth. Sometimes I worry that she spends too much of her time with boys and with adults and needs more female interaction. Even with Alice and Rose doing their best to make sure Peyton learns to appreciate being a girl, she'd much rather be climbing rocks and digging for clams on the beach than getting her nails painted and her hair done.
After we spend a few minutes enjoying our breakfast, she looks up then around as if something is missing. "Where's Xavier?" she asks as it's finally dawned that our regular morning visitor is absent.
"He had to stay at the restaurant this morning, remember? Nana had to go to Gouldsboro to buy some supplies," I tell her as we both continue to demolish our pancakes.
No one can ever say the Swan women don't enjoy their food.
"Does that mean we get to take Cherry to school?" she asks, bouncing up and down in her seat.
I can't help the smile that breaks out across my face at her enthusiasm. Peyton loves riding in my sweet baby as much as I love driving her. When I nod my head she starts shoveling food in her mouth like there's no tomorrow.
"Slow down." I chuckle at her. "We have plenty of time. We should even be able to drive by the dock and look at the boats, too." With that her fork clatters onto the plate.
"I'm done."
Her eyes dance with excitement. Just like me, Peyton loves going to the docks to look at the boats. Dad and the guys will be long gone by now, but there'll be plenty of other ones to look at. Thinking about Dad and the Isabella Marie makes my stomach flutter. Edward. Somehow I've managed to go a whole hour without thinking about him - which is some kind of record since he walked into the restaurant two days before. I have no idea what it is about the man that keeps him in my mind all the damn time, even when I sleep, and I don't want to know.
As soon as I figure out what he's doing here and what he wants, I'll be able to forget him, I adamantly tell myself. I patently ignore the tiny voice in the back of my mind that's singing "Liar, liar, pants on fire" in the most annoying voice ever … one that sounds eerily like Moaning Myrtle from Harry Potter.
Ignoring that little barb as best I can, I clean off the table while Peyton brushes her teeth and hopefully fixes her hair. When she comes back down, her hair's marginally better but I decide it's her hair. It's just going to get messy anyway so I don't say a word as we walk out the door and climb into the Blazer.
I chuckle a bit as she huffs and puffs from the backseat. Luckily for me, Cherry rumbles kind of loudly when I first turn her on so Peyton doesn't hear me.
"Sorry, baby, but you know you aren't old or big enough to sit in the front seat yet," I tell her when I glance at her in the rear view mirror.
She gives me a look that clearly indicates, "duh, Mom," and then we're off. We chatter back and forth about what we want to have for dinner, what movie we want to watch on Saturday night because yes, my dates these days include hanging out with my daughter. More than likely Xavier, Seth, and probably even Emmett and Rose and Jasper and Alice will stop by, too. There isn't much to do in Corea and none of us are ones for hanging out in the only bar in town or going into Ellsworth to go to a club.
We all usually try to go once a month or so … and I'm the one kicking and screaming the whole time. Being surrounded by couples who are madly in love with each other and who aren't afraid to show way more PDA than I'm comfortable with, is not my idea of fun … at all. You'd think they'd all know that by now, but every few weeks, one of them gets a bee up their ass to go to the big city of Ellsworth. How a town with a population of not quite eight thousand is considered the big city I'll never know, but I suppose when compared to a place that has two thousand, it's huge.
Both windows are rolled all the way down, and the closer we get to the docks the calmer I begin to feel. The fresh and briny smell of the ocean, mixed with the sounds of the water as it laps against the boats as they rock in their slips and the chattering seagulls gives me such a feeling of peace. It makes absolutely no sense to me why I'm so utterly affected by it all, especially considering what happened to Evan, but my body reacts instinctively. As we drive along, I see my dad's truck, Emmett's Jeep, and parked between them, is a motorcycle.
Somehow I know it's Edward's; it has to be. It's sleek and powerful-looking … almost menacing as the sunlight bounces off the shiny chrome. It fits him to a 'T' and there's no doubting that the bike was made for him. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning out loud as I picture him straddling the gorgeous machine.
"Mom, look, Uncle Em's Jeep," Peyton says as she points out the window. "I bet that motorcycle is Edward's," she continues on almost absently as we slowly drive past the docks.
"You sure do seem to like him a lot, P." I lift my eyes to look at her in the rear view mirror and I see the sweetest smile blossom on her face. For a moment, I'm horribly jealous that this man … this stranger … can garner such a reaction out of my little girl.
She runs her finger along the window and I can tell she's thinking very carefully about what to say … almost as if she's weighing telling me some secret she really wants to keep to herself. It unsettles me and my fingers curl around the steering wheel.
"He's my best friend," she says barely above a whisper.
The words, spoken so softly, but with such conviction … such truth, rock me to my core and I have to take a few deep breaths before I say something that hurts her. I've always known that Peyton's imagination can run away from her at times. I'm sure this is no different, but there's something about the way she's said the words that has me treading ever so carefully.
"Really?" I ask. "I thought Xavier was." I'm watching her again, looking for just the slightest sign that she's gotten carried away.
"He used to be," Peyton says. She keeps her head facing out the window and her voice is sweet … quiet, but steady and there's absolutely no hint of anything other than complete honesty. "But, Edward needs me more," she says and for some reason the words bring tears to my eyes.
My heart slams against my chest. When I look down, my fingers are white from clutching the steering wheel so tightly and I can see the fine hairs on my arm standing on end. My scalp tingles and I shiver.
"Peyton … " I splutter, totally at a loss at where this is coming from. "How can you … you just … " I'm trying to talk but I can't form even the simplest of words together.
"Mom." She huffs. "I told him we were best friends 'cause he didn't have any friends … none. Can you believe that? I mean I have lots of friends and I thought about sharing some of mine with him but then I told him I didn't think he'd like any of them as much as me. And he looked so sad, but when I told him we could be best friends, he didn't look sad anymore and you always tell me to be nice to people, so I was nice to him. I think he's really nice and I think Pop and Uncle Emmett think so, too. Do you think he'll give me a ride on his motorcycle?" she asks abruptly.
It takes a moment for my brain to catch up to the auctioneer-type rant she's just finished with but the only thing that really captures my attention is the last question. The rest is going to have to wait until later. Until I have time to think.
"No," I answer her a bit sharply. The thought of Peyton riding a motorcycle in general is enough to make me sick to my stomach, but thinking about her riding off with Edward somewhere makes my blood run cold.
"Mom," she whines and I shake my head, pressing my lips tightly together.
We don't say anything for a few moments and I can't help but be a bit grateful as I turn down the street her school is on. If there's one thing my daughter is excellent at doing it's throwing me for a loop and this one is the Space Mountain of them all.
Best friends … with Edward, I wonder with a lot of exasperation.
Only my daughter.
We pull up in front of the school and I turn around to help her get out of the truck. As she crawls out of the backseat she looks over her shoulder at me.
"You're not going to tell me I can't be friends with Edward, are you?"
My vision blurs for a second because I'm staring so hard at her. I want to nod my head yes and then make her swear she'll never talk to him again, but there's something about the way she looks when she talks about him that makes the words die in my throat. Instead, I slowly shake my head.
"Eeek! Thanks, Mom!" she squeals as she throws her arms around my neck and kisses my cheek.
I watch her run toward her friends wondering the whole time if I've just made the biggest mistake of my life.
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
"Hey, Bella," I hear as the little bells jingle on the front door of the restaurant when it opens later in the afternoon.
I pop up from behind the counter where I've squatted down to get something and find myself face to face with Seth. As always, my breathing stutters a bit when I look at him. It takes just a moment to remind myself that he and my best friend are madly in love with each other. To say that Seth is gorgeous is an understatement if I've ever heard one.
Seth's not extraordinarily tall, but what he lacks in height, he more than makes up for in looks. He's all broad shoulders, muscular chest, and chiseled abs. His dark brown hair is more wavy than curly and his eyes are the palest blue I've ever seen … so light in fact that sometimes when the light hits them just right they look almost translucent. The smile on his face is never as big or as natural as it is when he sees or talks about my best friend and for that reason alone I love him. Seth and I are really the only people Xavier can truly be himself with and it's bonded us in a way nothing else could. He's good friends with Emmett, Rose, Jasper, and Ali, but it's not the same as with Seth and me. The fact that there was also someone else that used to be part of our little group is always in the back of my mind … and of course I'm reminded of it every day when I kiss Peyton good morning.
Seth and Xavier's relationship is old news in our little town of Corea, but during the summer when there's an influx of summer vacationers and part-time fishermen, there are more than a few eyebrows raised. Separate, Seth and Xavier are both easy on the eyes, but seeing them together, once you realize they're together … is almost too much to take in. They aren't ever overly affectionate with each other when they're out in public, mostly out of respect for my parents and for Peyton, but they don't need to be in order for people to know how they feel about each other. It's obvious in the brief touches of a hand on an arm, a quick gaze into the others' eyes, and the small smiles that are meant only for them.
I love them both and there isn't a day that goes by that I'm not thankful for all they've done for me over the past seven years. My parents and Emmett have been great ever since Peyton was born, but it's been the love and support of the two of them and Rose that has really kept my head above water, even when I've wanted nothing more than to sink.
Reaching over the counter, I give him a quick hug and peck on the cheek before fixing him a glass of Orange Crush without him even having to ask. Everyone knows about his addiction to the stuff, even though he likes to pretend we don't.
"How are things on the docks today?" I slide his glass across the counter, smirking at the way his eyes light up like Peyton's do when I give her the brownie from the center of the pan instead of one of the edges.
Seth works at one of the fish processors and has for years.
"Eh, it was fine," he tells me as he chugs his glass of soda. He smacks his lips appreciatively and I can't help but laugh at bit at him.
I turn around to grab the chalk so I can write tonight's special on the chalkboard when he says, "I saw your dad and the guys today."
That really doesn't come as a shock to me, he sees them every day, but then he goes on to say, "Edward was there, too."
And with that, the chalk skips across the board and clatters to the floor. Jesus, just hearing the man's name sets me on edge. I bend over to pick up the chalk, taking time to breathe in and out. By the time I stand up again, I feel more in control … that is until I see Seth grinning at me.
Ass.
I huff at him, leaving him no doubt that he's pissed me off just by looking at me like he knows something … which he doesn't. He can't. I don't even know anything. Well, besides the fact that apparently just the name Edward makes me act like a fool. No reason to let Seth know that, however.
"Interesting guy," he says casually, though there's a hint of a question there. I don't take the bait, even though inside I'm begging him to elaborate.
Something, anything … any piece of information is welcome at this point.
"Hmmm," I mutter and hope like hell I sound as indifferent as I'm trying to pretend I am. I've turned around only because my face is an open book when it comes to lying, always has been. Seth has known me my whole life so there's no possible way I can feign anything but rabid curiosity if I look at him.
He snickers and I know I haven't fooled him in the least but he's sweet enough not to push. He knows better. "Yeah, he is. Quiet, brooding almost, but Esme has him eating out of the palm of her hand."
A vision of inked skin, wild hair, and storm cloud-colored eyes flashes behind my closed eyelids as I picture Edward and Esme together. The woman personifies love and home and warmth and my stomach does that fluttering thing again as I imagine her kissing him on the cheek after giving him milk and cookies. It's not the thought of Esme kissing him that turns my legs to rubber, it's picturing him with a smile on his face. The fact that I've spent less than five minutes in the man's presence doesn't go unrecognized, nor does the fact that I've never even heard him speak, but my brain has a mind of its own and right at the moment … it's on quite the tear.
A deluge of disjointed images flicker and it's not until I blink my eyes in rapid succession that I can focus again. Seth's waving his hand in front of me and the smirk he had a few minutes ago is replaced with the biggest damn shit-eating grin I've ever seen on his know-it-all, pain in the ass face.
If I didn't love him so much, I'd really hate him right now, but seeing as how Xavier would tan my hide if his boyfriend were to turn up … I don't know, maimed maybe, I just roll my eyes and try to glare at him.
Seth tilts his head and regards me for a moment and instead of the teasing I expect, he goes on as if I just haven't flown away to the moon and back. He relays the same information that Dad and Emmett did about Edward. I can feel that knot of tension that's been an ever-present reminder of the uneasiness I've felt since the first time I heard his name unfurl just a bit when the stories match up. At least if he's lying he's telling the same story, though my little voice is back in full force and it's reminding me over and over again to not jump to conclusions. Hearing about Esme's behavior toward him eases my mind a little bit more. I know Carlisle wouldn't let anyone he felt was dangerous around his wife. Everyone seems to want to give him a chance, but I can't risk my daughter being around him until I know what his story is. Dad said he got into some trouble in Boston and I don't want trouble around Peyton. We've been through enough and don't need to invite unwanted complications into our lives.
I'm confused.
My heart tells me one thing, but my mind tells me another.
Our conversation eventually moves from Edward to Peyton and her last day of school. As I'm gesturing about something or other that Peyton has done and said, I knock over his glass of soda. The liquid is running down the length of the counter and the glass rolls off onto the ground.
"Shit!" I exclaim and bend over to try to clean the mess before it gets any worse.
I'm so focused on what I'm doing that I don't notice the voices from the people standing at the counter … until I hear one that raises the hair on the back of my neck and makes my toes curl in my shoes.
When I lift my head, I find myself staring into the same eyes that have been haunting me for two days now. I feel like I'm frozen in place, like my feet are covered in cement but that same fight or flight instinct is kicking in. I can feel it.
My eyes hold his for a moment longer than I know they're supposed to and though I know I should look away, I can't. I'm mesmerized by the way his eyes change color so quickly, almost like a kaleidoscope … mossy green then pewter gray, to the color of well-worn faded blue jeans … back to green again, all in a matter of seconds and the changes seem to match the emotions behind them. Wariness, surprise … calm then back to guarded.
It's the strangest, most intense encounter I've ever been through and we still haven't said a word.
"Um, Bella," Seth says as he clears his throat from beside us. "This is Edward," he finishes totally unnecessarily.
My fingers twitch. When I drag my eyes away from Edward's to look at them, I suck in a sharp breath and realize why. Edward's held his hand out to shake mine and I watch as I lift my hand slowly until it's taken with a gentleness that leaves me even more breathless than his eyes have.
"It's nice to meet you, Bella. I've heard a lot about you."
The voice that falls from his lips, the ones that are currently smirking at me, is one that I know from now on will fight nightly with the voice that echoes from my nightmares. Honestly, at this point I'm not sure which one makes me dread going to sleep more - the voice of my past or the deep, rich … coarse one of Edward's.
Caramel turtles.
His voice reminds me of my favorite candy. All silky, decadent milk chocolate, covering smooth creamy caramel with pieces of hard, crunchy pecans inside. The best blend of hard and soft, of sweet and salty … of smooth and rough. At least it was until Edward opened his mouth and said my name.
His hand squeezes mine slightly before he lets go. Our fingers stretch so that they can touch as long as possible and the motion is completely reflexive. Noticing what I've done, I snap my hand back and curl it into a tight fist beside my leg.
I'm gaping at him, I know I am, and if I had any doubt, the way Seth is staring at me is all the proof I need. I close my eyes, hoping that when I open them, I can act like the normal, rational woman I am … or I am when Edward isn't standing in front of me.
"It's nice to meet you, too," I say and cringe a bit inside when I hear the way my voice is all breathless-like.
The three of us stand there in what has to be the most uncomfortable silence ever known to man, and it's not until Em and Jasper walk in that I feel like I can finally take a breath.
"Hey, sis." Emmett's loud voice sounds through the restaurant. I take the opportunity to escape without even thinking twice.
I turn away from Seth and Edward and walk toward my brother, hugging him quickly without even breaking a stride as I head straight for the side door. Again, I know they're all watching me, but I can't stop to worry about that now. With my hand on the doorknob, the sense that someone is watching me creeps up my spine and though I tell myself not to look at him, I can't stop myself.
When our eyes meet again, his are troubled … and sad, as is the slight smile he gives me.
I turn around and walk through the door, wondering how in the hell I'm going to face my daughter when I have to tell her she can't be friends with Edward anymore.
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
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