Watching Her Chapter 42 - Geppetto

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Chapter 42 - Geppetto - Pinocchio
Geppetto's generosity gets him noticed by the Blue Fairy. He becomes a devoted father who is protective yet lovable.

"Bella?" Phil asks as he pokes his head in my room.

I close my eyes and quickly wonder how long I can keep them that way before he assumes I'm sleeping and just leaves. Then I realize I'm trying to delay the inevitable and it's probably better to just get this over with.
I turn my head and stare at him, feeling my stomach clench when he looks at me with so much confusion and worry and yes … love. Damn it.

"Yeah?" I manage to croak though my throat feels like it's lined with sandpaper.

"I'm going to have to head to Seattle soon. Will you have lunch with me?" He sounds so sincere that I can't say no, even though eating is the last thing on my mind.

I also can't help but smile at him. He's so different than people would expect him to be. I know that's probably the case with most people who are public figures, but Phil really is. He walks around in a backward baseball hat, baggy cargo shorts and sandals … actually they're those God-awful foam Croc things and in a hideous shade of green no less. Although, come to think of it, maybe that is the way people imagine him when he's not on the mound in front of thousands of people, I don't know … he's always been just Phil to me.

I sit up and spin around, hanging my legs over the edge of my bed. I look at him and I can't help but smile. "That'd be nice. Let me take a shower and I'll meet you in the kitchen in about thirty minutes, okay?"

He doesn't say anything for a moment as he gazes at me and I can't help but wonder what he sees. I don't think he sees as much as Edward does, I don't think anyone could, but when he tilts his head to the side and his eyes soften a little bit, I think he sees enough. Probably more than I want him to, to be honest.

"Thirty minutes is fine. Did you want me to get started on making something?" he asks and at that there's no stopping the quiet giggle or the rolling of my eyes.

"Um, Phil, you can't even make a peanut butter and jelly without tearing the bread all up. I'll make us something when I'm done. You can make some iced tea though, if you think you can manage," I tease as I stand up.

"Sounds good. Maggie's gone to the store so it's just the two of us." He grins then it falls almost immediately.
We both know what he's left unsaid, that it should be the three of us. He gives me a sad look and I watch his shoulders fall. I feel like I should say something. It's on the tip of my tongue to tell him it's okay, but I know there are no words to offer him that can make any of this okay because each of know it's not … and won't ever be.

There's a wide gap, like we're each standing on opposite sides of a huge gorge, with jagged rocks and rushing water beneath us and Mom was the bridge that connected us to each other. Without her, there's nothing but open space, rife with pitfalls and lots of pain if we fall. It's so easy to stand on the other side and just watch, wait, rather than try to find another bridge. It won't be the same, it can't ever be, but I know if we looked we'd find one. It'd be rickety and scary to cross, but it just might be worth it to try.

"I'll meet you in the kitchen in a little bit," I say softly. The urge to hug him overwhelms me for a moment, making my steps falter and for goosebumps to break out all over my skin. Before I can act though, he's gone, and all I see is his back, his head down as he walks away.

An hour later finds us sitting at the table in the kitchen. We eat grilled turkey and swiss cheese sandwiches, munch on chips and carrot sticks and make small talk, ignoring the topics we both know we need to be addressing. Once the dishes are done and Maggie's kitchen, who has remained conspicuously absent for much longer than a trip to the grocery stores, especially in Forks should take her, is back in order, I hear Phil clear his throat.

I take a deep breath, knowing he's about to make me talk about things, things I'd so much rather leave dormant. Things that prick and needle and slice and hurt … things that I'd so much rather leave alone and at rest, not peace though, not ever that, but sleeping. The thought immediately makes me think of Hagrid's dog Fluffy fast asleep as long as the music plays, but once it stops, it becomes a rabid beast.

"Come take a walk with me," he says softly and though he's made it sound a little bit like a question, I know it's not.

The day is overcast, smoky gray and a little cool, even for July. We don't say anything for a while, we just walk close to each other, but not touching. I slip the elastic band from my wrist and pull back my hair when it's blown in my face one time too many and he chuckles beside me.

"I can still remember the first time I saw you. Your hair was blowing all around your face and with the sun shining on it; it looked like there were streaks of fire through it. But what got me was your smile." He nudges me with his elbow as we walk around the property, first along the side farthest from my building. "Do you remember that day?" he asks and when I nod, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and keeps up the trip down memory lane. It's a good memory though, so I relax against him as we continue walking.

"I remember thinking it was going to be a game just like any other game, you know?" he asks rhetorically, going on before I can even nod my head at him. "That game especially is always hard, all those families who've lost a loved one in the line of duty, it really makes you stop and think sometimes. There were so many kids there, like there usually is, but I kept going back to watching you while the other players were visiting with the group. You sat through all of the introductions, while the other kids' oohed and ahhed over the famous baseball players, looking all lost and afraid until Renée whispered something in your ear and your smile lit up your face brighter than the sun that day. I remember thinking that I'd never seen anything so perfect as the two of you, with your faces pressed close together, whispering secrets that for some reason I wanted to be a part of. In the middle of a baseball stadium, surrounded by all those people, and the only two I saw was you and your mom. I think I fell in love with both of you right then and there."

I open my mouth to say something, what I have no idea, but there are words that stick to my throat like glue. I have to swallow a few times and then I lick my suddenly dry lips before I say quietly, "She was my best friend."

The hand that's been moving up and down my arm as we walk stills and I hear him inhale. "I know, sweetheart."

"I miss her so much," I say brokenly, trying to keep from crying, but not doing a very good job at all when I feel tears fall down my face.

"I know you do. I do, too."

Neither of us say anything after that for a few minutes, but we keep walking. The silence isn't uncomfortable, though I think it probably should be for some reason. His hands are now in his pockets and when I peek at him out of the corner of my eye he's looking off into the trees. My heart races and my stomach flip-flops when we pass the section of the forest I know Edward watches me from and I take a deep breath. I can feel him. He's not here, he's probably miles away, but I can feel him.

I smile a tiny bit at that, even though my heart feels like it's shattering into a million tiny shards of glass. I wrap my arm around Phil's bicep and lean my head on his shoulder.

He pats my hand and then lets it rest atop of mine. "Are you happy here, Bella? Do you like Forks?"

My first instinct, unfortunately, is to pull away, but for once I take a deep breath and give him what he needs. "It's nice here and I think I can be," I answer him slowly and I know I mean it.

It's not just because of Edward, though I can't lie and not say he's not a huge part of why I feel that way, but it's more than that. It's his friends and the way he talks about them and his family. It's the feeling I get when I drive through town and look at the people going about their everyday lives. Edward had asked before why Forks, and other than the out of the way location and the fact that there's a hospital close by to help with Mom's care, it was pretty much like throwing a dart at a map on a wall. Now that I'm here, and now that there's an Edward, it seems like fate or whatever you want to call it.

Phil stops and turns to face me. He grabs my hands and holds them in his and I try not to cry but it's been so long since someone's touched me, held me, that I can't help it. "You know that's all I want for you, Bella. I love you, even though I sometimes feel like you don't know that, or I don't show you enough. I'm not your dad. You had one of those, and he was an amazing man and you still love and miss him. I wouldn't want to, nor would I even try to take his place, but please believe me when I tell you I want to be a part of your life. I didn't mean for it to seem like I was sending you away and I'm afraid it has, it does. I just … I can't …"

His voice falters and then I'm not the only one crying. "I love your mom and I miss her every single day. She's the love of my life and I wanted to spend the rest of every one of my days with her … and with you. When I married her, I wanted us to be a family. I still want that, even though we don't see each other very often. It's just so hard to be here, with her like she is, because that's not my Renée. That's not the woman that left her shoes in the middle of the living room floor because she all of a sudden had the urge to go barefoot, or the woman that could make a dog cower in the corner trying to hide when she sang those horrible country songs or the woman that tried to make us mittens because she wanted to learn how to knit even though we lived in Phoenix. That's the Renée I want to remember, not the one that's laying in that bed.

"Bella, sweetheart," he murmurs and pulls me against his chest when my tears come so fast I can't even see. "That's your mom in there, and you've loved her a hell of a lot longer than I have, and I know you're not ready to let her go yet. I understand, I do, and I will wait as long as it takes for you to be able to say goodbye. I've already said my goodbyes to her, I did it a long time ago, but I'm not you. I won't rush you or push you, or do anything but wait until you're ready."

I sniff and clutch at his shirt, pressing my entire body against his. His arms engulf me, and I let myself feel the love that's always been there. I've always known it, even if I didn't always acknowledge it … or want it. "But what if I can't? I don't want to let her go, because if I do, then I'll be all alone." I say the words, and feel them and they claw and slice and hurt coming out of my mouth.

Phil kisses the top of my head and then shifts so that he can place his hands on my cheeks. He holds my head and then runs his thumbs beneath my eyes to wipe my tears away. Tears stream from his eyes and the tip of his nose is red but really all I can see is how much he loves me … and my mom. He's just as alone as I am. Even though he tries to go on, I can see in this one moment that it's taken a toll on him. Lines that weren't there before web out from the corner of his eyes, his hair, which Mom loved to tease him about is dull and flat, and I don't think I've seen him smile once since he's been here, except when we were working on the car.

He's miserable.

He might have said goodbye to Mom but he's still mourning what's he's lost.

"You won't be alone, Bella. You'll always have me."

When he pulls out of the driveway a few hours later, I realize when I glance down at the notebook in my hand, that maybe, just maybe, I'll be all right.
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