Chapter 41

Bella propped herself up on one elbow in Edward’s bed so she could study his face in the dim morning light.

No bruising - that was good. He insisted that his grandmother hadn’t hit him hard enough to leave a mark, but he winced when he tried to chew the Chinese take-out they’d ordered last night. He agreed to put ice on it after dinner at her and Alice’s insistence. It looked like it had helped.

Bella reached out to run the tips of her fingers gingerly over the contour of his square jaw, relaxed now in sleep. He made a small noise and stirred slightly, pressing the other side of his face into the pillow. She turned her hand so the backs of her fingers glided lightly along the stubble that covered the lower half of his face and crept down his neck. His beard was a thick, dark blond that served to somehow heighten his sculpted appearance. He was already a work of art, in Bella’s eyes. Any attempt to duplicate him in pencil could only be a pale imitation.

He murmured again, turning his face into her touch this time. The sound was low and throaty, rumbling up from his chest - an instant aphrodisiac to her. Bella wondered if he would be in the mood this morning. He certainly wasn’t last night, and she didn’t blame him. He and Alice were obviously still a bit shell-shocked from their grandmother’s behavior earlier. What was meant to be a fun night in the Cullen house turned out to be a subdued evening watching old movies from the living room couch. Jasper Whitlock had joined them after supper, and Bella could see that Alice derived the same kind of peace from being with him that she did from Edward. She only hoped it worked in reverse - that he found peace in her.

She’d loved their low-key night together. She had never spent that kind of time with him, just cuddling on the couch, watching TV and making small talk with him, his cousin and her boyfriend. The ordinariness of it was comforting. It made her think this could work - that her relationship with Edward could hold up in the real world. She still felt disconcertingly like Cinderella racing away in her pumpkin carriage every time she climbed in her rusty red truck to leave Edward.

He sighed a little, the corners of his delectable lips turning upward. She could see his eyes stirring under their lids, making his long lashes flutter ever so slightly. He was about to awaken. The anticipation bubbled through her veins and stretched her mouth into a sheepish smile. She knew she ought to feel guilty for waking him, but the sight of him stirring to life was too wondrous to regret.

“Hey,” she whispered at the first sight of his eyes peering through their fringe of lashes. She let her fingers trail over his beard one last time before falling to the mattress below his pillow.

“Hey,” he mumbled back, his voice thick and low with sleep. His grin quickly matched hers.

“Do you feel okay this morning?”

He nodded and stretched a little. “I felt better when you were touching me, though.”

They both let out a small laugh and Bella obediently reached for his face once more. “Are you sore?”

“No.” His lips twitched slightly when her fingertips neared his chin.

“Liar.” She stopped and gently probed the bruised part of his jaw. “You’re still tender, right here.”

“Yeah, well . . .” He trailed off and shrugged his shoulder. “Who knew my grandmother had such a mean right hook?”

He played it off like a joke, but she didn’t laugh. She cupped her hand around the uninjured side of his face and leaned in closer. “I’m sorry she hurt you.”

Her eyes told him she knew where the pain really was, deep in his chest. But she touched her lips softly to his bruised jaw, and the pleasure it gave him eased the ache inside.

“She didn’t mean to,” he said. “She was scared. I shouldn’t have leaned over her like that to grab those photos - she saw it as a threat, an attack. I should have known better. I wasn’t thinking.”

Bella frowned and turned his face toward hers. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. She was irrational. The disease made her lash out, but it wasn’t at you. She loves you. All you were trying to do was remind her of that.”

The ache inside Edward intensified, but it was a wholly different one from the pain of losing his grandmother. It was the ache of being filled with love for this girl and her efforts to comfort him. He was brimming over, bursting at the seams with it.

He reached under the covers to find the warmth of her slight body and pull her closer. His hand skimmed over his own t-shirt and boxer shorts that she’d borrowed to sleep in. He exhaled heavily at the memory of her begging to put on the shirt he’d been wearing all day. He smiled now, remembering the way she’d carelessly tossed her bra over the nearest chair, wriggled her naked torso into his t-shirt, then let it fall over those spectacular little tits so they could taunt him from beneath their thin cotton veil. Best of all, she’d sighed and wrapped her arms around herself, claiming that the heat and smell of him still clinging to the fabric was heaven.

This was his heaven, here and now. Waking up to this girl who’d held him all night, even when he jerked awake with a shout after he dreamed that his grandmother had fallen down the stairs and he was unable to catch her. This girl who’d kissed his jaw so many times last night and this morning that he began to believe there were healing powers in her lips.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling her close to him under the covers.

“For what?” she asked. She snuggled into him, limbs entwining with his.

“Being you,” he said. He slid his hand up her back, into her hair. “Being here. With me.”

“Where else would I be?” she asked, in that tone that added, silly boy.

He didn’t want to think about the answer to that. Bella never seemed to see all her options, or at least consider them.

“I love you,” she reminded him softly. “You would be there for me, if the situations were reversed.”

And just like that, she put things in perspective for him, as always. He wouldn’t think twice if she were the one in need. For that matter, he required no such incentive to be with her. It was increasingly difficult for him to be anywhere else.

He hoped his eyes spoke for him as he pulled her into a good-morning kiss. “I love you” was hopelessly inadequate, but he said it anyway, between sticky morning-breath smooches. Every time he remembered her reluctance to kiss him that first morning-after, he would grin and then kiss her more deeply, with more urgency.

She was over such niceties, anyway. They were false and feeble protests from the start. She had been nothing but raw and open with him since that first night, stripping him to his bare essence and willing him to do the same to her.

They had always been this way with one another, and now was no different. They pulled impatiently at each other’s clothes until their naked skin made contact. The heat danced between them, urging their bodies to move in time with the flames. They grasped at one another, desperate to be closer, and before Edward’s brain could kick into gear, his erection was sinking into that warm, wet home between Bella’s legs.

He cursed softly to himself as he slid in deeper. It wasn’t safe to do this. Not yet. Still, he asked her anyway, though he already knew the answer.

“How long have you been on the pill?”

“A week.” Her face registered her own disappointment.

He nodded and reluctantly withdrew from her, rolling away long enough to open the nightstand drawer and grab a foil packet. He removed the condom from within, sheathed himself as quickly as possible and scooted right back to Bella. She hadn’t moved - she was still lying on her side, facing him. He pulled the bed covers all the way down, exposing her pale and lovely form to his appreciative gaze. Like an alabaster statue in a museum, her beauty was surreal, almost too exquisite to touch.

Almost.

He knelt next to her and reached one hand out to the delicate bones of her ankle, encircling it easily with his fingers. He lifted gently, pulling her leg upward. He pressed his lips to the arch of her foot, right at the sensitive instep. His mouth followed the ivory path over her ankle and up the back of her calf to the crook of her knee; then down the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh to the swollen proof of her arousal. He tickled the bright pink skin of her folds with the tip of his tongue before pushing it into her creamy opening. He moaned at the taste - he would never tire of it.

And she would never tire of being tasted. She squirmed at the almost unbearable pleasure of his wet mouth teasing her, and the intoxicating heat of his hand gripping the back of her knee, rendering her immobile. She couldn’t close her legs if she wanted to.

She didn’t want to, but she whimpered at the relentless explorations of his mouth, and then his other hand. They worked in tandem, gently stroking, probing, pushing deep inside her. She moaned again, unable to contain it. How did he still do this to her? Take her to that place where nothing existed but spiraling ecstasy.

She gasped in both disappointment and relief when he pulled away for a moment. But he was only repositioning himself, straddling her lower leg and effectively pinning her to the mattress. He lifted her raised leg higher, so her ankle rested on his shoulder, opening her wide to receive his rigid cock hovering nearby. With his free hand he grasped himself, rubbing the head up and down her clitoris before teasing her opening. And then he pushed in slowly with gentle strokes, deeper and deeper, until she didn’t think she could take any more.

But his pelvis was insistent, grinding into hers, making sure every inch of him was swallowed inside her. This position was yet another first for her, taking his cock sideways, so that his penetration was utter and complete. He groaned with each stroke now, his thrusts pushing her hip upward, his skin smacking against hers at the impact. She grasped at the pillow she’d slept on and groaned along with him. He was so deep inside her, she wasn’t sure if it was pleasure or pain she was feeling. She wondered if he was bruising her cervix. Could that happen?

He recognized that tense look on her face. He saw it the night he took her virginity. He slowed his movements and gently kissed her ankle, trailing his lips down her calf once more. Then he ran his hand down her leg, over hip and down her back, while the other reached out to caress her arm, her breasts, her stomach. He stroked her body up and down until she sighed and relaxed. He ended by swirling his fingers between her legs, massaging her sex rhythmically while he slowly picked up the pace again, sliding his cock a little deeper each time. Her moans were definitely filled with more pleasure than pain now. He loved reading her this way; gauging her responses and then adjusting his lovemaking accordingly.

He realized he’d never used that term in his life, even in his head. Making love. It always sounded silly to him; old-fashioned and trite. He smiled a little now, but he was ready to cut the phrase some slack. Maybe he’d never used it because he’d never loved anyone before.

He looked down at Bella, her hair spread out over the pillow in a wild tangle, fingers gripping the pillow case, forehead furrowed in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Her breathing was heavy, her breasts heaving in time with his thrusts. God, she was beautiful. And the way she felt was beyond compare, like her body was created specifically for his, her snug vagina gripping him like a glove, the way the stupid condom that separated them did.

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted cry. He wanted to come.

“Fuck,” he mumbled in frustration. He withdrew long enough to turn Bella until she lay flat on her back, looking up at him in surprise. He drew her other leg up so that both were raised. He grasped the backs of her knees, pushing her legs open until her glistening pussy was gaping wide before him. The sound of his own ragged breaths rang in his ears as he stared down at her.

“You are the most beautiful thing in the world to me,” he whispered.

She had no chance to reply. She was still staring up at him, slightly stunned, when he let go of her legs and fell into her, lowering himself so abruptly that the breath left her lungs in a rush. She gasped for air; it came out as a cry when he slid his cock back inside her. He quickly smothered her mouth in a kiss, his tongue moving in time with his thrusts, his hands cradling her face to hold her steady. His urgency surprised her for only a moment before it kicked her own needs into overdrive. She writhed compliantly beneath him, her eager hips raising to meet his. Her fingers tangled in his hair, hands gripping his neck to hang on as his hips rolled relentlessly into hers. The weight of his body pressed her into the mattress and made her feel each deep thrust with an intensity that literally shook her to the core.

And yet, as she clung to him, bathed in his sweat and panting breath, she felt something even more palpable than his desire, more poignant than his need.

Love.

He loved her.

Of course, he had told her so on her birthday, and a dozen times since then. He had written it in text messages. Said it on the phone. Murmured it during sex like it was a mantra that would lead him to nirvana.

But his eyes were speaking now, even louder than his body as it strained to become one with hers. She knew he needed her now more than ever, after watching his grandmother’s condition deteriorate a step further yesterday. He was desperate and hurting. He might need something from her that she wasn’t sure she could provide. She could never take away the hurt of losing the person he’d loved as a mother for years.

But she could give him something else. She could love him like he’d never been loved before. Love him with every ounce of her being - her heart, her mind, her body, her soul. They all converged into one as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him into her, pressing every inch of herself that she could manage against him.

“I love you, Edward,” she whispered, her lips grazing his earlobe, then his cheek. “I love you.” She said it again and again, the way he did a few nights ago, on her birthday. Once he’d said the words out loud, he couldn’t seem to stop, and the bliss she felt was a high from which she never wanted to come down. She was determined to take him there now, to make him feel nothing but happiness in this moment.

But his grunts only became more anguished as he drove into her. The desperation in his eyes was palpable as he came closer and closer to release. She met his wild gaze with a fierce calm, gripping his face firmly, fingers clutching his hair to hold him steady as he drilled her.

“Baby, please,” he gasped, not knowing what he was begging for.

“Give it to me,” she demanded, clamping her vaginal muscles tightly around him, squeezing until the burn began to seep through her belly. “Give it all to me. Everything you have.”

Your love. Your desire. Your virility.

Your pain. Your frustration. Your impotence.

I will take it all, and I will give you everything in return.

Her offer was unspoken, as was his acceptance. He answered only with animalistic groans, plunging his cock between her rigid walls until the delicious friction had its way with him. One last thrust and then he stilled with a panting cry, letting the ecstasy rocket through him and into her, over and over.

He collapsed into her in profound relief. His chaotic thoughts had vanished; his emotions distilled into one easily identified truth. He focused on her face, letting his eyes speak to hers.

You are everything to me.

“Everything,” he whispered, before sealing it with a kiss.

.

.

.

Edward peeled off the used condom, wrapped it in a tissue and threw it in the trash can under the bathroom sink. He would be glad when he could dispense with these things altogether. Glad when he could just be with Bella, no condoms - or exes, or phony dates - coming between them.

But the light at the end of the tunnel was becoming brighter. His practice time at Charlotte’s had begun yielding results. He could play his recital piece backwards and forwards without error. Now he was tackling the nuances, trying to infuse each passage with the perfect phrasing and volume, legato to staccato, pianissimo to forte. He had studied the sheet music thoroughly and strove to play it exactly as written, while still pouring his own emotion into it, to somehow leave a personal mark.

Charlotte had even talked about hiring a music coach, which he knew would be of great benefit; but he couldn’t bear the thought of her spending any more money on him. The guilt of his debt to her already weighed heavily on him.

He sighed, grabbed a wash cloth and cleaned himself up before heading back to the bedroom. He was already missing the warmth of Bella’s arms, and wanted to spend as much time there as he could before she had to leave for her late-morning class.

He threw the bathroom door open, then came to an abrupt halt. He had almost run smack into someone in the hallway, and that someone was Jasper Whitlock.

The two men stared at each other in mutual consternation for a moment. The realization that Jasper had spent the night with his baby cousin overshadowed Edward’s embarrassment that he’d just been caught stark naked. Fully-clothed Jasper’s own embarrassment was only exacerbated by Edward’s state of undress. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead as he stammered a red-faced excuse.

“Edward - hey. This is not what it looks like. I didn’t - I wouldn’t take advantage of Alice,” he insisted, shaking his head. “Nothing happened. She just didn’t want to be alone last night. So I stayed with her.”

He seemed to steel himself for Edward’s wrath, but he didn’t back down. Edward found that he rather respected the guy for it. Not that Jasper needed his respect. Who was he to judge anyone else, after the choices he’d made? Especially when he was standing here in the hallway with his Johnson hanging out.

“It’s good that you stayed. She did need someone.” He paused, then clarified, “She needed you. I’m glad you were here for her.”

Jasper returned the half-smile. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Edward nodded his approval, then moved past Jasper to his own bedroom door. “Alice is a big girl now. She makes her own decisions,” he said over his shoulder. “She doesn’t need my approval.”

“But I know she’d rather have it than not.” Jasper gave him a cautiously hopeful look.

Edward smiled again. “She has it.”

Jasper’s shoulders relaxed in relief as Edward disappeared and closed the bedroom door.

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The kitchen was comfortably quiet, save the sounds of masticating teeth and cutlery on plates. Bella, Edward, Alice and Jasper sat in row at the bar, inhaling their breakfasts like prisoners who’d been given their rations after a long day on the chain gang. Jasper was the one to finally break the silence.

“These pancakes are awesome, man,” he enthused to Edward, reaching around Alice for the syrup bottle. “Seriously good. You could open your own diner.”

“Stop sucking up,” she told him with a giggle. “You already won him over. What about my eggs? I think this is the first time I haven’t overcooked them in the history of . . . ever.”

“That’s because this is only the third time you’ve attempted it,” Edward reminded her with a snort.

“All the more impressive! I’m practically a natural in the kitchen.”

“That you are,” Jasper readily agreed, leaning over and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “Your eggs are perfect. Delicious. You can make me breakfast any time.”

Bella could practically see Edward bristle, and she almost laughed out loud. Though he knew his little cousin wasn’t that much younger than she was, knowing it and accepting it were two different things. Bella pressed her thigh against his underneath the countertop, making him look over. Her eyes reminded him what he’d told Jasper about Alice being all grown up now. His replied, I know, but I don’t have to like it.

Bella muffled a giggle in her orange juice glass, taking a long draught. Her eyes caught the clock on the wall as she set the glass down, and her mood abruptly shifted. She let out a dejected sigh.

“What is it?” Edward asked softly.

“Just realizing I have to leave soon to get to my art history lecture,” she said.

“Me, too - global politics,” Alice interjected with a groan. “I feel like playing hooky.”

“You just did that yesterday,” Edward reminded her. He left out, with disastrous results.

“I know,” she answered with a frown.

“I have to work right after class is over, so there’s no point in me skipping,” Bella said glumly.

“And I have to work tonight,” Alice added. “But we should try to find a time to get together again, the four of us. Maybe go out and have some fun for a change.”

They all agreed on that plan of action. Moments later, all were checking their cell phones to figure out when they were free. A quick comparison of work and school schedules proved disappointing. The four of them would not be able to get together again for at least a week, though Alice and Bella made plans to meet for lunch on campus a couple of days. Bella was even more dismayed to discover that the only time she and Edward could easily see one another over the next couple of weeks was on Sunday evenings.

Her chest constricted at the prospect of all those days and nights away from him. She knew work and school would keep her busy most of the time, but that didn’t erase the ache she felt inside. Waking up next to him in that massive four-poster bed was a privilege she was loath to give up. She felt connected to him in a way she’d never experienced with any human being before. How was she supposed to live without that now?

Edward seemed to read her mind with little effort. As soon as he’d made sure she was safely buckled into the cab of her truck, he leaned in and pulled her close.

“We’re going to make this work, Bella,” he said softly, his thumb stroking her cheek. “I’ll call you and text you every day. We’ll find time to be together. Even if I have to sneak into your dorm in the middle of the night,” he added with a short laugh.

“You can sneak in every night if you want to,” she answered hopefully.

“Don’t tempt me. I’d do it if I thought your grades wouldn’t suffer from lack of sleep.”

“Fuck my grades,” she said, only half-kidding. And then, wistfully, “Fuck me.”

He flashed a quick grin, but his words were serious. “We’re way past fucking. I want more from you than that.”

“You have it,” she told him.

He nodded. “I know. I’m so grateful for you.” He leaned in and pressed reverent lips to hers. “I don’t know how to repay what you give me. But I’ll find a way.”

He never seemed to tire of saying that, but she was tired of arguing about what he already gave her. So she just smiled weakly and nodded.

“Sunday night,” he reminded her, his voice perking up. “Call me as soon as you get off work. I’ll come pick you up and take you to dinner somewhere. Be thinking about what kind of food you want, and I’ll take you someplace new. Okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed. They shared several prolonged, yearning kisses before she reluctantly left Edward’s home and headed for the UW campus.

Her head was filled with wondering on the drive back, but not about what kind of cuisine she wanted to try Sunday night. She was much more concerned about how she was going to fill the weekend hours until then.

And keep herself from wondering how Edward was filling his.

　



　

　

　

　

　

Chapter 40

Bella chose her usual easel, greeted her classmates on either side, got out her art supplies and waited.

She clutched her double espresso in both hands and sipped it nervously. She knew there was no point in being nervous. She wasn’t even sure what she was nervous about. Sure, this was Thursday, but so what? That didn’t automatically mean the blond ponytail guy would be today’s model, just because he was last Thursday. And even if he was, the art instructor always made sure the models faced different directions each time, so that the students would have different viewpoints of the body as they drew. She wouldn’t have to look him in the eye, or any other parts, this time.

She took a deep, cleansing breath as the instructor entered the room; it caught in her throat when she saw Jackass James right on his heels.

Shit.

She gnawed at her lip as she watched the model disappear behind a large screen at the back of the room to disrobe. Meanwhile, the professor dragged a stool to the center of the circle of easels.

“Today our model will recreate a famous pose for us - that of Auguste Rodin’s ‘The Thinker.’ The statue was originally called Le Poète, and was part of a portal commissioned by the Musée Des Artes Decoratifs. Rodin called the portal The Gates of Hell, based upon the characters of Dante’s The Divine Comedy. Some believe ‘The Thinker’ was a depiction of Dante himself, as he pondered his epic poem; while others believe Rodin’s inspiration harkens back to the tradition of Michelangelo’s heroic figures, who reflected intellect as well as physicality. . .”

The instructor’s words faded to a buzzing drone in Bella’s ears as James reappeared in the same blue bathrobe as last week, then strode to the stool in the middle of the room. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t look at anyone, actually. Still, she didn’t let out a sigh of relief until he was seated in profile before her, facing far to her left, staring at the floor in imitation of The Thinker’s pensive pose.

Drawing Jackass James proved to be much easier when he was unable to give her so much as an errant glance. Within minutes, Bella had reduced him to a mental abstraction: an intricate network of bone, muscle and connective tissue outlined beneath smooth, pale skin. She liked when she was able to get lost in the work like this. Like many artists, she called it “the zone.“ Time ceased to have meaning there; hours could pass in the blink of an eye. She experienced the same phenomenon when she began to play with words, trying to convey a thought or evoke a feeling by stringing them together in just the right way.

She’d felt this way yesterday morning while drawing Edward, though the task was more daunting because of her love for the subject matter. She had found it more difficult to reduce him to the simpler elements of shape and shade than she normally would. She had difficulty seeing him as anything less than the whole, a sum much greater than its parts. How could she recreate that sum if she couldn’t dissect it in the usual fashion?

She thought back to the first time she’d studied him, the night they met. She had sat across the hotel dining room table from him and sought out his physical imperfections in an effort to boost her own fragile ego. But now when she thought of that table, her first memory was overtaken by the more recent ones. A kaleidoscope of visions, sounds and sensations danced through her head, a different emotion washing over her with each one. The effect was more like music, a swirl of colorful rhythm and melody, than a two-dimensional picture in black and white. But she endeavored to capture it all the same, to recreate with pencil the living, breathing glory of the man she loved.

She had no such difficulty today. There was no music in this classroom. Just an assignment to be completed, and Bella treated it as such.

As she dutifully copied the form of the model before her, she couldn’t help but notice the more obvious differences between him and Edward. James was shorter and more compact, his muscles a little bulkier and perhaps more defined. She had yet to attempt Edward’s entire figure in pencil, but her fingers itched to capture the shape of his musculature, stretched long and lean by his superior height. His face was more poetic as well, his features aristocratic where James’ were broader, more mundane.

Despite the physical disparity, Bella knew the real difference lay far beneath. Edward’s true beauty lay in his soul, reflected in the loving, yearning gaze of his blue-green eyes. She had no desire to feel James’ eyes on her. She remembered their leer all too well.

To his credit, he kept them trained on the floor as he rested his chin on his curled fist, his body bent over in the pose of The Thinker. She wondered what kinds of thoughts went through a mind such as his, and a slight shiver shot down her spine.

The professor strolled around the room several times throughout the class, providing occasional instruction. He complimented Bella on the fluidity of her lines and her use of shading to portray the contrast of light and shadow playing on the model’s body. She was pleased at the compliments, and with her work, despite the subject matter. When class came to an end, she quickly averted her eyes so that she would not have to witness whether or not James had a public erectile problem today.

The professor asked the students to leave their sketch pads on their easels and make sure their names were written on the cover, as he planned to study and grade their work before the next class. Bella had already marked all of her supplies at the beginning of the semester in the event that they were lost or stolen. As she gathered her charcoal and pencils, she spied the telltale blue bathrobe out of the corner of her eye. Apparently James was eying the drawings of himself again, the arrogant prick. She hurried to close her sketch book before he approached, but she wasn’t quick enough. His hand shot out to stop the pages, holding them open while he gave her drawing a once-over.

“Nice,” he commented, once again sounding like the soul of sincerity despite the hard glint in his eyes as they bored into hers. “I like how you see me.”

She said nothing as he closed the cover of her book. After a quick glance at her signature, he added, “. . . Bella Swan.”

The shudder down her spine was palpable this time as he grinned and walked away. He’d uttered the same sentiments as Edward had yesterday, but never had the difference between the two men been more glaring.

.


Edward’s nerves coiled into an all-too familiar knot in the pit of his stomach as he approached the entry to Tranquility Gardens.

Though the place was aptly named, its cottage-like architecture and beautifully kept grounds did little to ease his anxiety. He knew this facility was an idyllic setting for his grandmother to spend her final years, and he was grateful for the care he’d been able to provide her as her Alzheimer’s worsened.

It was the disease itself that seized Edward in its death grip every Thursday when he came to visit. How much of Emily would remain today? How much of her would that ugly disease allow to shine through its icy fingers? For she was the one the beast held captive, devouring her slowly, one precious brain cell at a time.

He took a deep breath of fresh air before entering the residence, but it only served to make the stale, medicinal odor within more unpleasant. Why did all nursing homes smell this way? - a combination of cafeteria food, urine and disinfectant, as if the effort to sanitize every surface never quite caught up with the relentless pollution of failing bodily functions.

He said hello to the wheelchair-bound man sitting near the entryway, looking out the window. The man’s vacant stare indicated he hadn’t heard, or was unable to respond. He dreaded the day his grandmother reached that point of incapacity.

Edward stopped at the front office, checking in to see how Emily was doing today so he would know what to expect. The administrative assistant rang the nurse on duty in her wing, and she came to meet him with a report, like always. She filled him in as they headed toward his grandmother’s room.

“She’s doing well today so far,” the nurse said with an encouraging smile. “She’s knows it’s Thursday, and she’s looking forward to your visit. She has her pictures all laid out, in case she forgets; but I don’t think she’ll need them today.”

“Really? That’s great,” Edward said in relief. He hated the days when it took her a few minutes to figure out who he was. Worse yet were the occasional times she couldn’t seem to remember him at all, speaking mostly of her youth and family members long gone. The enjoyment he normally would have derived from hearing her stories was diminished by the fact that she thought these events had just happened yesterday, not sixty years ago.

But today, the woman who greeted Edward in her small but comfortably furnished room had the wonderful sparkle of recognition in her green eyes.

“Edward, my sweet boy,” she said with a smile, holding out her arms.

“Good morning, Em,” he said, his smile even bigger than hers as he stooped over to give her a hug. He was struck anew at how she had shrunk; how frail she now seemed in his arms. She had always been short, but also stout and robust. Now her shoulders drooped, and she walked with the telltale shuffle of a woman who suffered from arthritis throughout much of her body. But in those increasingly rare moments when her mind was sharp, her beaming face could still light up the entire room.

“How are you today?” he asked her, helping her into her recliner before sitting down on the loveseat next to it.

“Oh, I’m doing okay,” she replied, wincing slightly as she settled into her chair. “This damned hip of mine is acting up, but that’s nothing new.”

“Did the nurse give you anything for it?” Edward’s brows furrowed slightly.

“Eh, just some Tylenol. They’ve got me doped up enough on all those memory-enhancing drugs, you know. Not that they do any good, but I suppose they’re better than nothing.”

“I think they’ve helped you,” he disagreed. “You didn’t need your flashcards to figure out who I was today.”

She didn’t take offense; he knew she wouldn’t when she was lucid. She only laughed and nodded to the end table between them. Spread across its surface were neatly labeled photographs of Edward, Alice, and all four of their deceased parents. “No, but I’ve got them here for later, in case I nod off and wake up to find a stranger in the room.”

Their laughter was cut short by the pain of the truth behind her words.

“I have a surprise for you,” he said. “Alice is coming to have lunch with us today, between classes. She told me you two had a nice visit last weekend, so she was anxious to come see you again.”

“Last weekend . . . ?” Emily trailed off, her eyes uncertain as she tried to retrieve the memory.

“Yes, on Sunday,” he reminded her gently. “She took you on a walk through the gardens because it was such a nice day.”

“The gardens . . . Oh yes, yes, she did,” Emily exclaimed, relief relaxing her features. “My leg wasn’t bothering me so much and it wasn’t raining, I remember. But now, how is she leaving high school to come see me on a week day?”

“Alice is a freshman in college now, at UW. She has some time between classes so she can drive here to meet us.”

“A freshman!” Emily shook her head, clearly irritated with herself. “I don’t know why I can’t remember that. Seems like yesterday she was just a little girl and I was trying to teach her how to bake cookies. She loved eating them, but making them? Not so much,” she recalled with a chuckle.

“Well, she hasn’t changed much in that respect. Although she did make breakfast for me and my girlfriend a couple of weeks ago, so that was a first.” Edward halted, alarmed that he’d just admitted to not only having a girlfriend, but having a girlfriend who’d spent the night with him.

“Girlfriend?” his grandmother repeated, her eyes clouding with worry again. “Have I forgotten something else? Did you tell me about her before?”

“No, no I didn’t,” he quickly assured her. “I just met her about a month ago. You haven’t forgotten anything - I haven’t mentioned her before.”

She nodded, but then frowned again. “Now, do I understand this right? You just met this young girl, but she’s already spent the night in my house?”

Edward felt his neck grow hot, and he pulled at his collar a bit. “Ye-e-es,” he said slowly. “She has. But, my intentions toward her are honorable, as they would have said in your grandmother’s day. It’s kind of serious between us.” He paused and looked into Emily’s eyes, as perceptive as his mother’s had been. “I love her. I’m in love with her.”

Her eyebrows raised, but she was silent for a moment. “In only a month?” she questioned. But then she smiled and said, “Well, yes, I suppose that is how it happens, isn’t it? Like a lightning bolt, out of the clear blue. That’s how it was between me and your grandfather. The man never had a lick of sense, and I knew I was just as big a fool to fall for him. But there’s no stopping it. It just comes. The man bled me dry with his bad habits, but I loved him still, ‘til the day he died and beyond.”

She sighed, her eyes far away, apparently reliving the past for a moment. Edward waited to see if she would return, or if he had lost her for the day. Eventually she smiled and shifted her eyes back to his. “So, what is this girl’s name? Tell me about her.”

“Bella. Bella Swan,” Edward said, still loving the sound of her name, the way it felt on his lips, the way it sounded in the air. And then he found himself pouring his heart out to his grandmother, telling her everything about the girl he loved, and why he loved her. Everything except how they met, of course. He had managed to keep his current career a secret with little effort. On the rare occasions Emily remembered to ask about his job, he claimed to be playing in a jazz combo that toured the Seattle/Portland area. He didn’t feel as guilty about the lie when he reiterated it today. At least now, he had the outside chance of it coming true.

“I’m so happy for you, my sweet boy,” she said, reaching out to grasp his smooth hand in her knobby one. “I always worried about you, even more than I did Alice. The way you always kept to yourself; never let your feelings show. I know how badly you missed your parents when God took them home. I felt your pain as much as I felt my own. You’re too much like me in that respect - stoic. Always trying to be strong. Well, if nothing else, my illness has made me realize that you can’t be strong all the time. There are times when you simply aren’t up to the task. And it’s okay to let the people who love you pick up the slack now and then. It’s okay to ask for help. Lord knows I’ve had to.”

Her grip on him tightened. “I know you’ve had to carry this burden along with me, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I hate those moments when I can feel myself slipping away - when I know I’ve just lost something, some part of my brain, and I don’t even know if it was important or not because I can’t remember what it was. It’s scary. And I know it must scare you, too, to watch that happen.”

She leaned forward to place her other hand on top of their hands clasped together. Edward tried to blink back his tears and focus on what she was saying. “I’m sorry you’ve had to be strong for me, Edward. I always tried to be the strong one, for you and for Alice, because you were so young when I took you in. All the three of us had was each other. And you’ll still always have me. You know who I really am, deep down inside, despite what I might show you on the outside. Just remember that woman when I become unrecognizable, even to myself. Because I know the day is coming. It’s only a matter of when.”

Edward wanted to argue with her, to tell her it wouldn’t come to that. But they both knew it would. And they both shed tears now, to mourn the passing of their time together.

But then Emily smiled and patted Edward’s hand in hers. “I’m so glad you’ve found someone to help you through whatever else this life throws at you. We all need that. A friend, a partner to see us through. Someone to be strong when we can’t manage it ourselves. It sounds like this Bella might be that person for you.”

Edward managed a smile through his tears. “I think so. I hope so. And I hope I can be there for her when she needs me.”

Emily gripped his hand firmly one last time before letting go. “Now, you bring me a picture of her so I can label it and know who she is, even when I don’t know the devil from Adam anymore.”

“I will,” he promised. “Oh, wait - I have a couple of pictures of her on my phone.”

Edward pulled the cell phone out of his back pocket and scrolled through the photos, making sure his grandmother didn’t get a glimpse of the racier ones he’d emailed to himself from Bella’s phone. He found the pictures of their beach outing, then turned the phone so Emily could see.

“She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” she exclaimed. “Dainty, like your cousin. Oh, I miss Alice like the dickens. It’s been ages since I’ve seen her. When is she going to come visit me again?”

Edward gave her a wan smile as he put his phone back in his pocket. He took a deep breath, then started all over again.

.


“I can’t believe Em still knows her chocolate chip cookie recipe by heart, but she can’t remember that I’m in college now,” Alice commented to Edward as they strolled through the manicured gardens for the which the nursing home was named.

“That’s the nature of the disease. The stuff that’s been in her brain the longest is the stuff she still remembers. But I can tell her ten times how old we both are now, and it doesn’t stick.”

“I know. I get it. But it’s so frustrating. You have the patience of a saint, I swear. I just want to cry when I have to keep repeating everything.”

“Trust me, I do too. Sometimes I do cry, on the way home afterward. Just to let it out,” Edward admitted.

They walked along the paved path in silence for a moment. The warmth of the late summer sun felt good on Edward’s forearms. He rolled his sleeves up another notch, to the elbows.

“Today was fun, though,” Alice said, kicking a small stone out of her way. “Baking cookies with Em in the community kitchen was great. It almost felt like when we were kids.”

“To her, we still are,” he replied with a rueful laugh. “But sometimes she gets it. She was sharp as a tack when I first got here this morning. It’s such a relief when she’s her old self for a little while. But then it’s almost more painful when she fades away again, because she knows what’s going on. She knows what’s happening to her, when she’s lucid. It’s like a cruel joke on all of us.”

Alice nodded. “I know. At least when she gets stuck in the good old days, she doesn’t know any better. She’s happy there.”

“Yeah. She is.” Edward reached out and grabbed at a loose branch in a nearby bush, then began to absently strip the dead bark from it as they walked. “I told her about Bella this morning, even though I know she won’t remember later.”

“You did?” Alice asked, surprised. “How did she take it? I’ll bet she was happy for you.”

Edward smiled in confirmation. “She told me she was glad I had someone. She was worried about me being alone through all of this. You, too,” he added, making sure Alice felt included.

“I should tell her about Jasper, then,” she decided. “Maybe bring him to meet her some time.”

“Maybe. I think we have to be careful, though. Bringing strangers here might agitate her. If I knew she’d be like she was today, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

“But there’s no way of knowing, is there?” Alice’s hazel eyes were filled with sadness as she looked up at her cousin.

Edward shook his head. “I never know what I’m going to find when I come here. For that matter, we don’t know what we’ll find when we go back inside. When Em wakes up from her nap, she might be a different person than the one we just saw half an hour ago.”

Alice reached for Edward’s hand. He could see she needed reassurance, so he clasped it tightly in his as they walked.

“You don’t have to stay,” he told her as the wound around the bend of the garden path. “Don’t you have class this afternoon?”

“Yeah, but it’s an econ lecture. I know a couple of people I can get notes from.”

“Alice, I don’t want your schoolwork to suffer because of Em’s condition. She wouldn’t want that, either.”

“I know. I wouldn’t skip class if it was an important one. I want to stay,” she said softly, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Okay,” he agreed, squeezing back before they let their hands drop. He was glad she wasn’t leaving. He liked having her here, especially when their grandmother was nearly her old self again. Days like today were increasingly rare. He knew they should be treasured.

The path meandered through lush landscaping back to the facility, and they took their time walking it. Edward filled in Alice on his birthday date with Bella, leaving out the private details. Alice told Edward a little more about Jasper - how he had considered a military career until a faint heart murmur was detected during his ROTC physical, and he didn’t make the cut. He chose to study his second love instead, mechanical engineering. Jasper Whitlock loved nothing more than to discover how things worked - to take them apart and figure out how to reconstruct them so they’d work better. He’d transferred to U-Dub to enroll in the mechanical engineering department’s energy research program.

“Sounds like he’ll have a solid career ahead of him,” Edward commented, hoping the twinge of envy he felt wasn’t evident. He’d often wished he had more of an aptitude for practical subjects in school - math, science, business - that led to lucrative careers. He'd managed to get good grades, but all he’d ever loved was music. He’d lived for the emotional release that flowed from his fingers every time he sat at a keyboard.

“What about you?” he asked his cousin. “How are your classes going? Have you found anything that piques your interest?”

“Well, I’m still getting all of the requirements out of the way,” Alice reminded him. “I’m sure it’s no surprise that I like my Principles of Design class the best. I always thought I’d like to go into fashion design, but now I’m kind of leaning toward interior design instead. I keep thinking of all the amazing things we could do to the house if we had the money.

“Don't give me that look, Edward,” she warned, glancing up at his perturbed expression. “I’m not talking about getting rid of your precious antiques. I’m talking about updating some of the other stuff - fabrics, accessories. You’d be surprised at how something as simple as new window treatments would brighten up the place.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. “That sounds like it came straight out of a textbook. Or HGTV.”

“Bite me,” she shot back. “Any fool can see that our house could use a little facelift.”

Edward was still amused. “Fine. I’ll see if Rosalie can throw me a little bonus money so you can go buy new curtains. If she comes up with a nice severance package, you can go hog wild.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Edward’s stomach sank at his blunder. Alice was quick to pick up on the slip.

“Severance package?” She turned to face him and came to a dead stop on the sidewalk, blocking his path. “Are you quitting Renaissance?”

He took a deep breath. “Maybe. Hopefully.”

She gaped up at him. “What do mean, ‘maybe?’ What’s going on with you, Edward?”

He let out a long breath. There was no point in keeping it from Alice, because she would find a way to coax, wheedle or badger it out of him eventually.

“I’m going to be playing in the contest this year.”

He knew he didn’t have to tell her which contest. She had been in the audience of the Seattle Piano Competition every other year from the ages of eight to fourteen, listening to him compete. They had missed the contest two years ago after the fallout from Emily’s mishap in the kitchen, and the chain of events that led to her admission here at Tranquility Gardens.

The phrase “lit up like a Christmas tree” came to mind as Edward watched Alice’s face transform. He didn’t have any more time to ponder her expression before she threw her arms around him, tackling him in a bear hug and screaming her approval. She began practically jumping up and down after he set her back on the sidewalk and told her to calm down.

“Don’t get your hopes up. I might not even place this year, I’m so out of practice.”

“There’s no way you won’t place. You placed almost every year you entered. But wait, how are you practicing? We don’t have a piano!”

Edward winced slightly. “I have a friend who does. I’ve been rehearsing there every day.”

Alice’s eyes narrowed at the word “friend.” “Oh, Edward. Please tell me you are not trading sexual favors for rehearsal time. I mean, if that’s the case, no wonder you never told any of us about the contest. I don’t know how Bella deals with what you do to begin with, but this . . .” She trailed off with a grimace.

“I am not trading anything for rehearsal time,” he assured her. “Well, maybe friendship. And a few card and chess games.” He sighed again at Alice’s skeptical look. “Okay, yes, Charlotte is one of my customers, but it’s not what you think. I’ve never slept with the woman. Our relationship is not sexual in nature at all. She’s older than our mothers would be, if they were still alive. I mean, if anything, I’m probably a surrogate son to her. She has no kids of her own. She had the means to get me into this contest, and she did it to surprise me, to help me get out of the escort business. I couldn’t look that gift horse in the mouth.”

He hated how cheap and tawdry his situation sounded when he said it out loud, and he hadn’t even told Alice about the monetary loan he’d accepted from Charlotte. Even though there was no sex involved, he’d never felt more like a kept man than he did right now, looking at the dubious expression on his cousin’s face.

“I don’t understand,” Alice said. “What’s in it for her? Why would she want to get you out of the escort business when she hires you for companionship?”

Edward shrugged, a little stumped himself. “I don’t know. Because we’re friends. I never really thought about it before, but that’s what we are. I’d still want to visit her even if I wasn’t escorting. I guess maybe she’s my surrogate mom as much as I am her son.”

Alice slowly nodded. “I guess I can see how that could happen. I always assumed that all of your dates revolved around sex, even though you claimed they didn’t. I just thought you were trying to protect me.”

“I’ll always try to protect you. But in this case, it really is true - a lot of my work situations don’t involve sex. And now, none of them do. Not since Bella.”

Alice’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? You’re not having sex with your customers anymore?” She stopped while he shook his head in answer. “Since when?”

“Since a couple of weeks ago.”

“Does Bella know that?”

He nodded. “I already told her I haven’t been with anyone but her since she spent the night at our house. But I told Rosalie about my stance on the matter yesterday, so now it’s official. I even have her blessing, sort of. If I can manage to keep the clients happy without the extra perks, Rose will keep me on for a few more weeks, until the contest. Then I’m hoping I can get some job offers that will allow me to walk away for good.”

Alice’s face brightened again. “Oh my God, Edward. This is what I’ve been praying for. And I’m not even sure I’m religious, but every time I think about whether or not there’s a God, I ask him to guide us, and help get you out of this mess.”

She hugged him again, and he had to admit to himself that it felt good to confide in her. “Bella must be so excited about this,” she exclaimed as she stepped back and let go of him.

“I think she’ll be more excited when I can tell her I’ve quit the business for good.”

“No, I mean about the contest. I’ll bet she can’t wait to hear you play.”

“She’s already heard me play. That’s kind of how we connected, actually.” He smiled at the memory of their first night. “But I haven’t told her about the contest. I want it to be a surprise.”

“Seriously?” his cousin exclaimed with a frown. “Don’t you want her to be there in the audience? I know she’d want to support you. She’ll be so mad if she misses your moment of triumph.”

“But I don’t know if it will be a moment of triumph,” he replied, his face grim. “I have no idea what will happen. And I can’t stand the thought of disappointing her.”

“You wouldn’t disappoint her,” Alice contradicted him. “You’re looking at this all wrong. She’ll be more disappointed if you don’t include her in your plans. She’ll want to be there for you, no matter what happens.”

“I suppose.” Edward grew silent as the truth hit him. He began walking again, gesturing for Alice to join him. “I think I’ll be more nervous if Bella is there. I feel like my entire future is riding on this one afternoon, and she’s a huge part of that. I’m already going to be under an enormous amount of pressure as it is. If she’s sitting there, watching me with those big brown eyes. . .” He trailed off, imagining the hope and expectation etched on face when he sat down to play. He couldn’t stand the thought of not living up to it.

“I know how nervous you get, Edward. I remember how you used to throw up before performances. But you played in public so much while you were at Juilliard, I thought you got past some of that anxiety. And you know Bella would never judge you. She loves you.”

He nodded. “I know. And what you’re saying makes sense. Maybe I will tell her. But if I do, I want to do it myself, so please don’t say anything in the meantime, okay?”

Alice let out an exaggerated sigh. He knew what a hardship keeping secrets was for her. “All right. It is your news to tell, not mine. It might kill me, but I will keep my mouth shut.”

“Thanks,” Edward said, relaxing a little. “She’s coming over tonight after she gets off work, so I’ll be putting your promise to the test.“

“Great,” she replied with a tinge of sarcasm. “No, that is great, actually. I’m glad she’s coming over. We need more hang time, the three of us. We can watch TV or play video games, you know, like normal kids. Unless you have other plans,” she added with the arch of one eyebrow.

“No, hang time sounds good. For a little while,” he added with a grin. He draped his arm around her shoulders as they walked. “Have I told you today that I love you?”

“No.”

“Okay, then. I love you, even if you make me crazy sometimes.”

“Ha!” she snorted. “I love you, too, even though you make me crazy most of the time.”

He laughed and let his arm drop as they approached the facility. His good humor began to turn to apprehension when they entered and headed down the hall toward Emily’s room. He hoped she would still be in good form when she awoke.

He knocked on the door a few times before opening it. “We’re back, Em. Are you awake?” he called softly.

“It’s just us, your grandkids,” Alice echoed behind him.

They entered the room to see Emily stir on the recliner, blinking and stretching a bit.

　
“Carlisle, is that you?” she asked, squinting up at the pair as she reached for the recliner handle in order to raise herself.

“No, Em, it’s me, Edward. Carlisle’s nephew,” he explained quietly. “I’m Elizabeth’s son, remember?” He felt Alice’s hand rest lightly on his back in reassurance.

“Elizabeth’s . . . what?” she exclaimed as the chair settled into an upright position. She glared up at Edward as if he was the one who had lost his senses. “What are you talking about, young man? My Elizabeth’s not old enough to have a child, let alone a grown son.”

“Em, your daughter is gone,” Alice interjected cautiously. “She died years ago, in a car accident with her husband, and your son, and his wife. They were our parents. Carlisle and Esme were my father and mother, remember? We’re your grandchildren. Edward, and Alice.” She pointed to her cousin, then herself.

Emily shook her head back and forth so quickly that she appeared to have palsy. “Where are you getting these crazy stories? Who are you - why are you trying to trick me with such lies?”

Alice gasped, her eyes growing round at the accusation. She’d never borne the brunt of one of her grandmother’s full-blown episodes before, and the shock of it froze her to the spot.

Edward was more used to Emily’s occasional outbursts. “We’re not trying to trick you,” he assured her in a soothing tone. “No one wants to hurt you, Em. We love you. Remember, you laid out these photographs of us earlier, in case you had trouble recognizing us. See?”

He leaned over the recliner, reaching across her for a picture of himself and Alice that lay on the end table. “Look, here we are, in the back yard of our house--”

A sudden crack of pain shot through Edward’s jaw, silencing him abruptly. His hand instinctively flew up to the injured spot as he gaped at his grandmother. She had never struck him before. Alice shrieked in surprise at the attack, while Emily continued her tirade.

“Don’t you come any closer, you thief! I’ll scream loud enough for this entire neighborhood to hear me, and the cops will be on you before you get ten feet away from this house. Don’t think I won’t! You won’t get a single piece of my family’s silver or jewelry while there’s breath left in my body!”

“I’m not a robber,” Edward protested weakly, rubbing his jaw. “I’m not going to take anything from you.”

“Damn right, you aren’t!” Emily hollered, swinging at him yet again as she lurched forward in her chair. He jumped back out of the way, nearly knocking Alice to the floor. She scrambled back toward the door to the hallway while Edward held his hands up in surrender.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly, searching his grandmother’s wild, frightened eyes for a glimpse of the woman he knew - the woman she’d made him promise to remember was in there somewhere.

Her body shook violently as she drew her fists into her chest and cowered back into the chair. Her face collapsed in confusion, eyes darting around the room as if looking for clues to make sense of what was happening.

“What’s going on?” she finally asked, her voice frail and tremulous. “What is this place?”

This is hell, Edward wanted to answer. He looked back at Alice, stiffened into a pillar of salt against the door, her hand glued to the knob, her eyes glued to Emily. He finally caught his cousin’s horrified gaze in his own. When he spoke, his voice was hushed in defeat.

“Go get the nurse,” he told her.