Chapter 3: Wednesday

Chapter 3 - Wednesday

“Large hot chocolate please.” Angela’s working again today. Tomorrows’ her day off. And Sunday. As I begin to pull out my exact change she interrupts me.

“It’s already been ordered for you sweetie, I’ll bring it over to you soon.” I’m confused. I try to push my money towards her but she shakes her head. It’s not an angry head shake. She’s smiling. “That kind gentleman over there paid for it.” she points behind me. I turn and see the person sitting the the armchair across from mine. He’s smiling and, when he sees me looking, waves. His smile widens as I feel a blush paint my face.

Edward.

I’m not sure what to do now. I have money that I no longer need to use. What do I do with it? And do I go and sit with him again? Talk to him? I’m confused, and disconcerted. Looking up at Angela, I see her smile has fallen a bit. I like Angela. I decide to ask her for help.

“What do I do?”

She looks stunned at my question.

“Umm, well, did you like talking to him yesterday?” I think for a second before slowly nodding my head. I did like it yesterday.

“Edward’s nice, he actually talks to me.”

Angela looks surprised at this, whether from what said or that fact that I’m actually talking to her, I’m not sure.

“Ok, good. Well do you want to sit and talk with him again today?” I nod again. “Well then you go over there and sit down and talk with him. Say hello. Thank him for the drink. And then maybe talk to him about his life. Or share something about yourself, tell him about your life. And go from there, ok?”

“Ok...but..” I pause. I don’t know why this is bothering me, it never has before, but I have to ask. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

She gathers up my change and hands it back to me. “Just be yourself Bella. If he likes you, he likes you. If he doesn’t, he doesn’t.”

I don’t know what that means. But regardless, I turn and start towards my chair. Edward is still there. He hasn’t left since I last looked over. I almost expected him to. But there he sits, looking happy and pretty and perfect. What did Angela call him? Handsome. Edward is Handsome.

He continues to smile at me with his pretty, handsome smile. “Hello Bella, how are you today?”

“Hello.” That’s what Angela told me to say. Should I add something else? He did ask me a question, I perhaps in this situation is appropriate. “I’m fine thanks.” He nods, gesturing to my seat. I’ve been standing, trying to focus on our interaction, on not saying the wrong thing. I settle down in my chair and face him. He’s in a black suit today, with a dark green shirt that matches his eyes. I stare at it because I really like the color of his eyes, but can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. I try to remember what Angela said. Conversation starters.

“Th...thank you for ordering my hot chocolate.”

“You’re welcome Bella. I was going to order you something to eat as well, but I figured, since you didn’t have anything to eat yesterday, that you don’t usually eat here.”

I smile. He payed attention to me yesterday, remembers that I didn’t eat. It makes me feel... noticed, considered. “No, I don’t usually eat anything here.”

Angela comes over, her hands full with our drinks. For me, my hot chocolate, with two marshmallows and symmetrical chocolate syrup. For Edward, a tiny fancy coffee cup but, instead of holding dark, black liquid as I expect, it’s filled to the brim with perfectly white foam.

“A hot chocolate for you Bella and a steamer for the gentleman.” says Angela as she gently places the cups down in front of us, a cheeky smile on her face. “Enjoy.”

Edward reaches forward and picks up the delicate little vessel, his long fingers seemingly engulfing it. “I had a craving for one after you mentioned it yesterday, my niece always insists I have one whenever she does.” I can’t help but smile back at him. He sounds like he loves her very much. It makes me ache for someone to love me, or for there to be someone for me to love. Both sound appealing, but frighteningly unattainable.

My sudden sombre mood doesn’t last long. Edward takes a sip from his cup then lowers it, leaving behind a large white stripe of foam across his upper lip. There’s no hope of containing my laughter. It springs out of me, bouncing around in the air between us. Edward joins in, his wide shoulders shaking and his eyes twinkling with mischief.

As my laughter settles to a round of tittering giggles, Edward surprises me once more. “You have a beautiful laugh Bella. You should laugh more often.”

My gaze snaps to his, his admission catching me off guard. When my eyes meet his I can't seem to look away. He has that effect on me, is perhaps the only person I’ve ever been comfortable holding eye contact with. Our laughter has died. Instead the air is heavy and charged, his eyes smoldering as they bore into mine. Before I can think, I see his tongue peek out of his mouth and quickly swipes across his top lip, collecting the foam and drawing it back in, his adam's’ apple bobbing as he swallows. His lip is now slightly moist, glistening in the light. It’s mesmerizing, my gaze now firmly settled on his rosy, pouty lips.

What am I doing?

He probably thinks I’m weird again. Of course, my blush makes an appearance again, as I try to focus on anything but his perfect features. I can’t help but sigh. All this interaction is tiring for me.

“Are you ok.” I try to focus on him again.

“Yes...I just, I...I sometimes don’t know how to act...around you.” Well, they always say honesty is the best policy.

“Bella, can you do me a favour?’

“Yes.” Anything.

“I only ever want you to be yourself. I would hope that you would be comfortable with that all the time, but especially around me. Can you do that?”

I can feel the smile stretching across my face. It feels good. I nod shyly, and relax. He wants me, only me. I can do that...I think.

I remember what Angela said.

“Tell me about your life.” Edward chuckles.

“What do you want to know?” I look up to meet his gaze. It still makes me nervous to do this, but I’m getting better at it.

“Everything.” His eyes light up.

“Well ok then.”

And so he tells me everything. He starts with his family. His older brother Emmett, who coaches high school football and is built like a yeti, with the temperament of a teddy bear. Emmett’s wife Rosalie who, despite looking like the ultimate trophy wife, owns and runs her own Mechanics garage. Their adorable daughter Lexie, who idolises Edward and is the instigator of the Steamers. His younger sister Alice is a fashion designer fresh out of College, working towards opening her own boutique, is happily and newly engaged to her boyfriend/best friend since age 8, Jasper. And finally he talks about his parents. Loving and sweet Esme, famous for her roast dinners and chocolate chip cookies, always ready with a hug whenever they come home, at any age. It sparks a yearning in me, an ache for a mother figure that I’ve always been missing. But, at the same time, I know that I will only ever have one mother, and she will never change.

“My father and I are very close, we even work at the same hospital.” His words make me freeze.

“You...you’re a doctor?” My hands begin to quiver a bit, I don’t like doctors. He notices my reaction immediately, his brow furrows.

“No, I just work at the hospital. Are you...”

I interrupt him. “I don’t like doctors. Or hospitals.”

“Can I ask why?” I nod.

“Everythings white. The walls, the roof, the doctors coats. And everyone's rushing everywhere. It’s too busy. I can’t focus on anything and all the movement and motion and bustling confuses me. And the doctors, they treat me like...” Do I really want to explain this?

“Like...?” he enquires. He wants me to keep going. He wants to know what I have to say.

“They...they treat me like something to study. To prod and discuss, but they never talk to me. They talk about me to each other, or to Mother, but never to me and...they always want to try and fix me.” I try to hold them in, I swear, but my eyes have a mind of their own as they well with tears. “I don’t want to be fixed, I just want to be left alone.”

Edward looks...sad. Really sad. Like he almost wants to cry as well. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want this to affect me so much. But it does.

“And what are they trying to fix? What do they think is so horrible that they have to make you feel so...damaged?”

I take a deep breath. I can do this. “They call it...Aspergers. It’s...”

“...a form of Autism. I know.” Silence.

“What do you mean you know?” He lets out a sigh.

“I mean, I had guessed it might be that. It fit. The lack of eye contact was a big give away, although,” he ducks his head down to peak at me through my shield of hair, my eyes meeting his almost immediately, “you seem to be getting better at that.” I match his smile. “Then there’s the routines, and schedules and your unwillingness to break from them.” Now I’m embarrassed again. “Also, sometimes you seem a bit confused at things I say or do, which seems to tell me that you struggle to read and understand social cues.” I nod. Everything he says is true, is what the doctors have been talking about for years. It makes me feel like a failure. I can’t even be a proper human being. Before I can continue to dwell on it, he’s talking again. His voice immediately draws me back in.

“I’ve also noticed that you have beautiful hair.”

...What?

“At first it looks quite ordinary, a nice dark brown. But, when the sun hits it, it shows up with deep tones of red. It’s...gorgeous.”

I feel my breathing hitch as I process what he saying. It almost sounds like he, dare I say it, finds me...attractive?

He’s looking at me, searching for my reactions. I can tell. Maybe he thinks he’s going to scare me off? I’m not sure. Surprisingly I don’t feel like running away. He has that odd effect on me. I’m comfortable around him, and I’m comfortable with his praise, his admiration. Before I can overthink things, I reply with the most honest truth I can find.

“You have really pretty eyes. And hair. I like your hair.” He chuckles.

“Thank you Bella.”

“If you’re not a doctor, what do you do?” A change of topic sounds like a good idea.

“I’m an administration and financial specialist.” My eyebrows furrow.

“That means I look after the financial issues with the hospital, such as where our funding comes from and what we use it for. Like wages, and equipment. For example, I’m in town now because Phoenix Memorial hospital just purchased a new version of an MRI machine. I’ve come down to have a look at it, maybe have a little play around, to see if we should invest in one too.” My stomach plummets.

“We being...”

“Seattle West Hospital. I’m only here on business.”

“Oh...When do you go home?” He sighs. Is he sad?

“I go back on Saturday.”

“Saturday? But that’s only...”

“Three days away. I know. Before I came on this trip I was reluctant to leave home but now...I’m not sure I want to go back.”

I hope it’s because of me. Please let it be because of me.

“I want to get to know you better Bella. I enjoy spending time with you.” He is being so honest and open, his voice so sincere in what he is saying, that I just know he’s telling me the truth.

“I enjoy spending time with you too.” I say.

God I love his smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You haven’t done any writing today.”

I had almost forgotten about my broken notebook until he mentions it, I’d been pushing it out of my mind. Now I glance down at it, sitting innocently on my lap.

“It’s broken.” Edward looks puzzled.

“What’s broken? Your hand?” Before I can correct him he lurches to his feet and moves round the coffee table, dragging his chair with him. When he sits down again, his chair is right next to mine, the arms touching and his long legs angled towards me. Before I can blink, his long fingers grasp my wrist and gently pulls it towards him. He turns my hand over, gently prodding my wrist and flexing my fingers. It feels so good, his touch calming me and his gentle manipulations making me feel relaxed and almost lethargic.

“It doesn’t look broken.” Edward mutters as he reaches for my other wrist to continue his examination. When he finds nothing wrong with that one as well, he looks up at me. I can’t help but giggle at how adorably confused looks.

“My hands are fine, it’s my notebook that's broken.”

Edward looks a bit embarrassed when I say that, a little smile appearing on his face and cheeks going slightly pink.

“Oh, well, do you want me to have a look at that instead?”

I hesitate. No one sees my notebook except for me, and Mother when I finish one. As soon it’s full, Mother takes my notebook and gives me a new one. She takes my old one into her office and spends her time in there with it for the next few days. Afterwards she puts it on my bookshelf with my other notebooks, and goes back to her usual routine of fancy lunches and late night parties. The few days that Mother has my Notebook are are always the worst for me. Before now I’ve never really thought about why she takes them, or what she does. For the first time I’m finding myself suspicious about her motives. What is so important that she insists on taking them from me? Especially when she knows it makes me nervous and agitated.

Not that she cares.

But this is Edward. Even though I only met him yesterday I already trust him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone. Especially Mother. My decision made, I pick up my notebook and hand it to him. I can see the edge of the crooked page sticking out. Edward handles it gently, he seems to understand how important it is to me. He flips it open to the rip and inspects it.

“I could patch it up with a bit of tape if you want.”

“You would do that?”

“Sure. I mean, it won’t be perfect, but I can tape it up here near the spine so the page is in line with the others.”

“Yes please. I just want it to be in line. It needs to be symmetrical. Then I can write again.” I nod, resolutely. This will work. All I need is for it to be straight again.

Edward hands my notebook back to me and heads towards the counter. I can see him talking to Angela, asking her something. She glances over at me quickly before nodding and pulling a roll of tape and a pair of scissors out from under the counter.

Before I know it he's back sitting next to me, notebook back on his lap. I watch as he carefully matches up the page in the right place and cuts a piece of tape. As he carefully smoothes out the piece of tape over the rip, I can see that it’s not going to be perfect, just as he said. But it’s in line, held together. I'm not sure why I didn't think of doing that myself last night. But now as he hands it back to me, I can feel the itch to write flood back into my fingers, and I know that it's going to work. I run my hand over the page, feeling the join between the rough paper and the smooth tape.

"Thank you, Edward." My voice is quiet, almost a whisper. I glance up to meet his gaze, his gorgeous eyes burning into me with a passion.

"Your welcome Bella." His hand is sitting on the armrest of my chair. Without giving myself time to overthink it, I place my hand on top of his. The gentle skin makes me feel so alive. He turns his hand over to grasp mine, meshing our fingers together. The heat of his hand is indescribable. I don't want to let go.

So I don't.

We keep holding hands for the rest of the morning, with no words being said. I write passionately with my other hand and Edward pulls over his briefcase and pulls out some documents to peruse, all without breaking our ironclad grasp.

I could get used to this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~