The work week went by at such a slow pace, I pretty much wanted to slit my wrists. By the time five o’clock came around, I was pulling my hair out, dying from my apparent inability to relax. I couldn’t sit still, and even though the week was productive after that atrocious Wednesday, I was still plagued with thoughts.It was like my sensory memory wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone.
I would be standing in the break room, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, and I could feel Rose’s hands on my stomach, teasing before she lowered her mouth to my flesh. The silky feel of her imaginary lips would raise goose bumps on my skin, and I’d shiver, wrapping my arms my waist in a futile attempt to warm myself and ward against my all-too-vivid memories.
While I was standing at the copier, I’d suddenly see Edward’s eyes before me, green and dark and deep, and despite the fact that I knew he wasn’t actually there, I would stand, my eyes unfocused, as I remembered what his eyes on me felt like. The residual heat generated by his gaze would grow, beginning in my cheeks and spreading down my neck over my breasts…travelling all along my body before I would finally stop myself and shake my head.
It was over.
I needed to get over them and move on with my life, only…I knew I couldn’t.
Lauren stopped into my office again on Thursday morning, saying she wanted me to head up an editing project that would entail one hundred articles over the next four weeks. I was tasked with doling them out to my fellow editors, and because those articles took precedence over everything else in the office, I would not be subjected to Mike Newton’s boring ass dribble - or anyone else’s for that matter. When I asked whet the articles were for, she replied that the magazine’s higher ups were trying to create a special double issue for the summer, and it was important that everything be taken care of the right way to ensure we met our deadline.
I knew it was major that she’d assigned this project to me, that it meant I was finally gaining a little respect around the magazine, but still, I couldn’t shake the loneliness I felt. I wanted to be happy that my career was finally fucking taking off, but I couldn’t.
After I made it home Thursday evening and realized I was still moping, even after a nice dinner and a glass of wine, I decided I really had to do something. It was one thing to miss Edward and Rosalie like nobody’s business, but it was completely unacceptable to let what had happened suck every shred of happiness from my life.
It was in that vein that I called the one person that could always make me happy: my amazing and wonderful and hilarious brother Emmett.
“Hey, pipsqueak,” he answered when I called.
“Whatever, Goliath,” I replied, already grinning at his jovial voice even as he made fun of my small stature.
“What’s up, Bells?” he asked, and I could hear him shuffling papers around, so I assumed he was still at the office.
I sighed. I knew my brother, and my brother knew me, so I was fully aware that there would be no way to hide the fact that I was in a bit of an emo funk from him. So, I just bit the bullet. “I was wondering if I could steal you for a few hours this weekend. I need some Emmett time,” I replied, trying to convey that I really didn’t want to talk about…anything. Yet.
I could hear him put the papers down, and I could almost see him lean back in his chair as his brow furrowed.
But Emmett knew me inside and out, so he didn’t pry.
“Of course, B. Feel like a museum?” he asked, referring to one of our favorite ways to waste time. It occurred to me then that during my time with Edward and Rose, I had largely neglected my big brother, and I felt like an asshole all over again.
“How about the zoo?” I asked.
His smile came through the phone and wrapped around me, and I felt immediate comfort. Emmett could always lift me up. “Bella! That…may be the best damn idea you’ve had all year,” he said. “Saturday afternoon?”
“Yes!” I replied, excitedly. The idea of spending an evening with Em cured my emo, and I felt my steps lighten, somehow. “Hey, Em?” When I continued, my voice was quieter, and he didn’t respond, just listening because he knew I wasn’t quite finished. “Sorry I’ve been distant lately. I’ve missed you.”
He sighed into the phone and said, “I love you, Hell’s Bells. Don’t you forget it, alright?”
I told him I wouldn’t, and we hung up. As I curled up on my couch, a thin blanket thrown over my legs, I felt a little bit of peace for the first time in a week.
Friday seemed to go by quicker than the rest of the week, despite the fact that it was the one week anniversary of the renewed relationship between me and my vibrator, and I decided that Breeze was in order, even if it would remind me of Edward and Rose. Fleetingly, I wondered if I would run into one of them there, and if I did, how awkward it would be, but I ignored those thoughts and focused on being able to spend the entire evening with Jess, Ang, and Kristen.
By ten o’clock, I was shit-faced - and happy as a fucking clam about it. Jessica leaned over to whisper in my ear as Leah deposited another drink before me on the table. “Did he break up with you?” she asked.
I couldn’t help my reaction. I laughed loudly, my eyes clamped shut and my head pressing into the wooden seat behind me. Finally, I gasped for breath and regained enough composure to nod. After giving me a “Jesus, Bella’s a nut job” look, she returned the conversation to James, who happened to be in town that weekend. When I looked across the table, Angela’s brow was furrowed, and she shot a look of concern in my direction.
Jessica had obviously squealed.
Instead of thinking about the fact that it wasn’t one person who broke up with me but two, I downed my drink in record time. Before I knew it, Angela was helping me to stand, and last call had come and gone. She snatched my keys from my purse and gave them to Jessica, who drove me back to my apartment in my car. Angela followed us and gave Jessica a ride to James’.
As I stumbled into my bedroom, I didn’t even bother to turn the lights on. I simply stripped down to my underwear, pulled on a tank top, and fell onto my bed.
Passing the fuck out had never felt so good.
I woke up the next morning when a text message chimed from my purse. Groggily, I sat up and stretched my arms. I arched my back, threw my legs over the side of the mattress, and decided Tylenol was in order for the slight headache I had. I walked to the kitchen, poured myself some ice water, made my way to the bathroom, and took three Tylenol before I finally snagged my phone from my purse.
It was Emmett.
Can I pick you up, B? Is noon alright?
I glanced at the clock. It was 10:30.
Definitely to both. See you soon.
With that, I flipped my phone closed, removed my tank top, panties, and bra, and stepped into the shower, the hot water massaging tension from my shoulders I hadn’t known I was carrying. I washed my hair and put product in it to enhance the curls, and then just spent a few precious moments relaxing beneath the warm spray. After I shut off the water and stepped out, I toweled dry and pulled fresh underwear from my dresser. I slipped into them and then went to my closet, dressing simply: a pair of jeans, a black-and-gray striped tank top, and a black cardigan. As I was pulling socks onto my feet, my brother knocked at the door.
I padded over, feeling the smooth hardwood beneath my sock-covered feet, and opened the door. Em stood there, looking rather dapper for a guy who was simply wearing a green polo shirt and jeans.
“Hey you,” he said, wrapping his brawny arms around me. “How are ya?”
I shrugged under the pressure of his heavy arms. “I’m okay, Em. Ready to get out of here for a while. Just let me put my shoes on, alright?”
He kept his left arm around me and lowered his chin, frowning down at me from the height of his nearly six-and-a-half foot frame. His eyes narrowed to the point that the dark coffee color of his irises – which we shared – was hardly visible. “I’ll get it out of you eventually. You know that,” he said simply.
I grinned and nodded. “I know. I’m just…I’m really not ready to talk about it yet, you know?”
That seemed to appease him, so he released me from his strong grip and let me walk back to my room, where my shoes waited for me. As I sat down on my bed, bending at the waist to pick up my sneakers, I called out, “Do you mind if we pick up coffee first? I am craving a frappuccino.”
“Bells, those things are terrible for you,” he said, and I could hear his voice nearing my doorway. He popped his head into the room with a grin. “So, of course we can stop to pick one up.”
I sighed and stood once I was finished with my shoes. “You’re the best, you know that?” I asked, my head cocked to the right just slightly.
He smirked. “I do, actually,” he replied.
Without thinking, I picked up a pillow from my bed and tossed it at his head. Of course, he ducked and it missed him entirely, but the banter between us had put me into a fabulous mood. I was excited to spend the day with my Emmey.
“Let’s go, loser,” I said, breezing by him. He followed me, I locked my door, and we made our way downstairs to his car, which was parked just in front of my building.
“This is just for you,” he said, gesturing to the radio as he turned the key in the ignition.
I quirked an eyebrow at him and then began to laugh – loudly, I might add – as the music filtered through the speakers. The familiar drumbeat instantly made me shake my head back and forth.
“Ooh, my little pretty one, pretty one
When you gonna give me some time Sharona?”
Without speaking, we both started singing along, and by the time we were a block away from my apartment, we were both laughing. As the end of the verse came up, we reached a stoplight. Emmett and I leaned toward each other, faces hovering over the center console, and crooned out, “My-ee ey-ee by-ee ahee ah woo! Ma ma ma my Sharona!”
Visions of Reality Bites played in my head just as we arrived at the drive-through Starbucks, and Emmett didn’t bother turning the volume down at he ordered my regular: a Caramel Frappucino with no whip.
I handed him a ten, he paid, and we drove off, heading in the direction of the Lincoln Park Zoo with broad smiles on our faces.
When the music quieted, I said, “Sure you brought that for me. Are you positive that you didn’t bring it because Lisa Loeb is has a song on this soundtrack?” in a sly tone.
He grinned over at me. “I have no idea what you mean,” he replied, his face devoid of any emotion save for his easy smile.
I laughed lightly, and we drove the rest of the way to the zoo in that atmosphere – teasing and light-hearted. We parked and paid our admission and immediately moved onto our normal path: the lions and tigers were always our first and last stop of the day.
I sipped my drink as the warm Chicago sun beat down on our shoulders while we moved from the lions before walking by the birds, then giraffes. There, Emmett dropped a couple of quarters into one of the bubble gum machines that spit out something that looked suspiciously like dog food instead of gum. The giraffes had always been a favorite of mine, so he handed the grainy pellets to me, and I held them up, squealing like a little girl when one of the giraffes flicked its long purple tongue out, licking all the way up my forearm.
“Gross!” I yelled, jerking my hand back and doing this weird little dance as I tried to figure out how to get giraffe spit off my arm without wiping it on my clothes. Emmett just chuckled and motioned for me to turn. He reached into my purse and took out a white plastic case, popping it open and pulling out a baby wipe.
“Where the fuck did that come from?” I asked.
He shrugged and started wiping my arm. “You always want to feed the damn giraffes.” A fleeting, fond smile crossed his lips as he finished and then wiped his own hands before tossing the wipe into a nearby trashcan. “And they always do that.” He smirked.
I couldn’t think of something to say in response that wouldn’t sound a little too cheesy, so I settled for a smile. “So you snuck baby wipes into my purse?”
“Well, you are an infant…” He winked at me and held out his arm. I rolled my eyes and slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow, and we kept going. After meandering past the polar bears, we quickly walked around to the other side of the giraffes and then the penguins. It took us forty-five minutes to get that far, thanks to our slow gait and the conversation that naturally ebbed and flowed between us.
We shared a smile when we walked up to Café at Wild Things, our favorite place to stop for lunch at the LPZoo. “Shall we?” I asked, gesturing grandly to the small building that stood before us.
“We shall,” Emmett said in response, a goofy grin on his face. We walked inside and ordered two panini, two bottled waters, and Emmett ordered a salad for himself.
My brother and I took our seats and began to eat. His eyes were narrowed as he chewed, and I knew he was about to ask me what was going on. Before he could, I headed him off, saying, “So…anything new on the dating front for you?”
He grimaced and shook his head. “Nah, not really. It just seems like I meet the same guy over and fucking over, you know?”
I nodded slowly, thinking about the boyfriends Emmett had had over the years. They really did all seem to fit the same sort of mold – big, built, athletic, intelligent, funny.
Pretty much like Emmett.
“I’ve been hanging out with Tyler more…” He trailed off.
I arched an eyebrow. “Really? You two getting back together?”
He shook his head, chuckling as he explained that they knew they weren’t a good couple – they just couldn’t find anyone they liked hanging out with more than each other.
“Yet.” Emmett grinned, his eyes twinkling as I marveled at his eternal optimism. It was very rare to see him down about anything for long.
He wiped his hands on his napkin, took a long sip of his water, and then, he asked what I’m sure he’d been waiting to all day.
“Alright, Isabella Marie.” His voice was stern now, the playfulness gone. “What’s eating you? You were a hot, emo mess when you called me yesterday. What’s up?”
I knew I wasn’t ready to just…come out with all the details regarding Edward and Rose to my brother. Deep down, I knew he wouldn’t judge, but I just wasn’t prepared to think about them in detail yet. But, my brother and I had a deep and abiding mutual respect for one another, so I refused to lie to him as well.
“I’m just…bored. For a while, my life was exciting, you know? And I felt like things were happening for me. And now, despite the fact that work seems to be taking a turn for the better, things with my friends are fine, and fuck, I feel like I’m finally established here, I also feel like I’m lacking. Severely.”
My brother, being the overly observant person that he is, asked, “Well, how’s your writing going? You know how you get when you’re not putting pen to paper, Bells.”
I stared at him as I chewed my turkey and goat cheese, and shrugged. “It’s not.”
He furrowed his brow at me. “At all?” I shook my head in response. The words I’d written the just days before had been progress but I had a long way to go before the novel would even be half complete.. “Bella Swan. You are a writer. Mom would kick your ass if she knew you weren’t using your talents. Hell, maybe I will, on principle.”
I couldn’t help but grin. He had a point.
“You know when you’re not writing, you get all angsty and ridiculous,” he continued. “Are you just too busy with work?”
I nodded. “That’s definitely a part of it. Other than that, I just seem to be lacking inspiration these days,” I answered, and a crystal clear picture of Rose and Edward the night we’d all met flashed in my mind.
“Well, what’s going on with work that has you thinking things are on the upswing?”
I smiled and sipped my water. “The She-Devil told me she wants me to head up a major project and that the magazine could use more arts-centric pieces after the summer.”
“Bella! Fucking sweet!” Emmett cheered, and held his hand up to slap me five. I giggled at my brother’s excited response, and then he said, “I think she’s right. You love art. Maybe you can find a local artist – someone who’s up and coming – and do a write up on them. That way, you can help get their name out and be writing about something that holds your interest.” He paused and laughed. “I read that piece of shit article about beetles in the recent issue…what the hell?”
As the laughter bubbled out of me, I couldn’t help but feel extremely grateful for my big brother. He always knew exactly what to say to cheer me up and support me. We were still joking about fucking Mike Newton’s beetles as we walked out of the café, and I made a mental promise to not leave Emmett out of my life again. He knew me inside and out, and he really did make a good point about me possibly writing up a new artist in the area.
Emmett and I made our way past the seals, the swans – where we took a few minutes to stand and watch them, of course – and finally the zebras before making our way back to the lions.
When we reached the big cats again, we stopped in at the Park Place Café and bought ice cream cones.
Then, we ended our trip to the Zoo as we always did: we found a bench that was nicely shaded and took a seat, and then let the people watching commence.
Emmett took a nibble of his milk chocolate ice cream and pointed out a guy who was standing across the space from us. He had short, dark hair and was wearing fitted jeans and a black t-shirt. When the man turned to face us momentarily, I saw he had chiseled cheekbones and what appeared to be clear blue eyes.
“He’s pretty hot, no?” Emmett casually asked, licking again at his ice cream.
I grinned, taking another look at him. He was thinner than Emmett usually pointed out, a little lanky actually, and I wondered if maybe Em really was looking for something new. Something different. “He’s not really my type, but yeah,” I said.
“Oh, ho ho,” my brother began, turning to face me. “Bella has a type now? When did this happen?”
I shrugged, cursing the blush that instantly formed on my cheeks. “Lately, I’ve been more attracted to fairer complexions. You know, reddish or blonde hair…light eyes…that kind of thing.” I grinned to myself since I was obviously describing Edward and Rose and realized that for the first time in a week or so, I could think of them without some sort of grimace. It was progress, at the very least.
Emmett and I sat and people watched for a while longer before he looked at his watch. “Aw, damn, Bells. I promised this douche I work with that I’d help him move a dresser or some shit, and I have to be there in an hour.”
I pulled my cell phone from my pocket, and my eyebrows shot up, probably meeting my hairline as I realized it was already 5:30. “Well shit. We better get going then, huh, big brother,” I replied.
He sighed. “I really hate this guy. I don’t know why I said I’d help him. He’s a dick.”
We both stood, and I hooked my arm around his elbow. “Em, you’re just too nice of a guy. That’s all. Let’s get out of here.”
We walked to his car, talking animatedly the whole way, and once we were on the road again, he shuffled the discs in his multi-disc player until Weezer blared from the speakers. Emmett started singing along at the top of his lungs. “Ooh eee ooh, I look just like Buddy Holly! Oh, oh, and you’re Mary Tyler Moore!” My eyes widened as I laughed at the song choice, and when I looked at him, he was mimicking the face I was making. His big brown eyes were wide, and his eyebrows arched high.
I gave in as we sped along the roadway, singing along and shimmying a bit in my seat.
I was home entirely too quickly, and I surprised myself by feeling really fucking upset when I hugged Emmett goodbye.
I moved slowly to the elevator and took it upward, stopping at my floor. I opened my door and stepped just inside of my flat, locking it behind me as I tossed my keys across the kitchen onto the island. My purse landed on the kitchen counter.
Instead of immediately thinking about dinner, I slipped my shoes off of my feet and left them there, near the door, as I padded to my couch, throwing myself onto it. At some point in the drive from the zoo to my house, I’d shoved my phone into my back pocket, and I slid my hand under my body as I pulled it out, dropping it to the floor near the sofa.
As I lay there, I let my mind wander.
I seemed like I was missing everyone these days.
Of course I missed Edward and Rosalie. Despite the less-than-pleasant way our…whatever…had ended, they had revolutionized my life. In the few weeks we’d spent together, I had begun to learn how truly fulfilling sex could be. I fine-tuned exactly what I liked and didn’t, and I learned how to pleasure another person, how to pay rapt attention to what they did and didn’t like, how to adapt to their needs.
Over all of that, they made me question my sexuality. I was undeniably attracted to both of them, and while my interest in Rosalie had initially given me pause, I had never had a moment of uncertainty about it. I liked her and found her beautiful – probably the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Edward was…well, Edward was fucking sex on a stick, and even if I’d wanted to resist him, I wouldn’t have been able to. Before them, I’d never considered myself bi-sexual. I’d never even wondered.
In the wake of our relationship, my mind was more open, and my brain was more in tune with my needs and wants. I still felt a strange absence – like there was something really major I was missing, not just about Edward and Rose, but about myself, and my own insecurities and feelings – but I didn’t allow myself to think of it. That kind of self-reflection was best saved for another night.
Aside from missing them, until today, I hadn’t realized how much I missed my brother. Emmett was my light in the dark, my smile on a shitty day, my motivation when I was sorely lacking. I wondered if I was anything good to him. Did he think I just called when I needed something? Before the entrance of Edward and Rose into my life, he and I had regularly had Swandays – our name for Sundays – so I hoped he didn’t think me a selfish bitch who only called him when I needed to get out of a funk.
I decided then and there that I was going to call him soon and set up a brother/sister date. A day at the museums, maybe, followed by coffee, my treat.
The very thought made me smile.
And then, I thought of Mom and Daddy, back at home in Washington. The mere thought of them, and the house Em and I had grown up in, where they still lived, brought a smile to my face. Our parents were reformed hippies, and while the long hair and weed-smoking had gone out the window in the late seventies, just before Emmett was born, Mom still dressed in long, Bohemian skirts and flowy tops while Daddy dressed conservatively but still listened to Hendrix and Pink Floyd on the weekends. Renee and Charlie Swan had raised Em and me to be open-minded and loving, and I missed the hell out of them, too.
“I’ll call Mom tomorrow,” I mumbled to myself as I sat up.
My mind was still in a cloud of thoughts – contemplating how I missed Angela as well – as I scooped my phone up with my right hand and stood. After shoving my cell back into my pocket, I wandered to the kitchen and pulled out a take out menu because cooking was apparently not on the agenda for the evening.
I called the Indian place down the street. They were my absolute favorite restaurant in Chicago, and I considered it sheer luck that they were so close to me. After the lady gave me my total – a paltry $15 - I hung up and placed my phone on the island as I picked up my keys, shoved them into my purse, and then picked up my shoes. In silence, I walked to my room, deposited my shoes on the floor of my closet, and hung my purse on a wall hook as I heard my phone ringing.
I walked quickly, assuming it was Emmett, and made it back to my kitchen in record time. Without looking at my phone, I answered, a grin on my lips. “Hello?”
The line was quiet. “Hello?”
I pulled the phone away from my ear and glanced at the caller ID – I knew the name would be flashing at me from the faceplate of my cell.
I gulped, a well of nerves suddenly in my throat, and I found myself unable to speak.
It was Rose.
My Rose.
No, not your Rose, you fucking twit.
And then she spoke and jarred me from my internal arguing.
“Hello,” she replied softly, in almost a whisper. “Bella?”
“Rose?”
I knew it was her, but it was like I couldn’t process that she was actually calling me. That it was actually her on the line.
“Yes. Bella, I…We need to talk. I miss you. Can I see you?”
We both heard my sudden intake of breath, and I almost dropped the phone. A million errant thoughts were colliding in my mind as my free hand contoured tightly around the counter of my kitchen island. The only thought I could focus on was ridiculous and immature, but it was all I could see.
She does want me.
She does want me.
She does want me.
For a moment, I wondered about Edward and how we’d all agreed to not see one another singularly. Any and all agreements we made as a trio were null and void, I supposed, but before I could respond to Rose, I realized something else for the first time since they left me a week before.
The quick, dual rejection – by two people at the same time – had left me feeling less-than-desirable, vulnerable, and…well…the epitome of unsexy.
Rose calling seemed to negate that a bit. She missed me. She wanted to see me. She wanted to…I had no idea what she wanted, but I didn’t care.
“What would Edward say about that, Rosalie?” I said, and though I didn’t mean it to, my voice came out razor-edged.
I heard her sigh and then hesitate. I waited in silence for her response again.
“Bella, he doesn’t know I’m calling. We’ve only spoken once this week, after what happened.” She was frank, and suddenly, I could see her seated on her couch, her knees curled beneath her body as she held her BlackBerry to her ear.
Edward didn’t know she was calling?
“Oh,” I responded dumbly.
“Can I see you, Bella?” she asked. “Please?”
Without thinking, I replied. “Yes. When?”
“I don’t know. This next week is crazy for me, but…soon?”
I felt my lips curve into a smile as I recognized desire in her voice. She does want me, my inner monologue was chanting, over and over again. “Definitely,” I answered smoothly.
She let out a quiet breath and said, “Thank you,” and then we hung up.
I made it through the next day without losing my mind. It was a quiet Sunday, and I spent the morning with my DVR, finally catching up on too many hours of television. A little after noon, I decided I needed to get out of the house, so I picked up a sandwich at a local deli and visited my favorite park.
I ate on a park bench, watching all the people that passed by – guys walking their dogs, families with little kids, a few couples out just enjoying the day. I wasn’t really thinking about anything in particular for once, and it was a refreshing change of pace to just relax. When I finished, I tossed my trash and went back to my car, heading to the library before going home. I spent an hour or two perusing books before checking a couple out – a trashy romance novel Jessica loved and a more serious literary piece that Angela had asked if I’d read.
The drive home went quickly and soon I was back in my pajama pants and tank top. I tossed my phone and my purse onto my bed and went to the kitchen, pulling pasta from the pantry to boil. Just as they reached al dente, I heard my phone ringing from my room.
“Jesus, Bella. Keep your phone with you,” I mumbled at myself as I rushed to pour the pasta water and noodles into a strainer so I wouldn’t miss the call.
I dried my hands and darted to my room.
I had been surprised when Rose called. I really hadn’t been expecting to hear from her, so when I did, it incited an odd double-emotion reaction: shock and joy.
When I picked up the phone this time, I experienced that again, only with a jolt of fear and something else I would later label anxiety.
Edward was calling.
No comments:
Post a Comment