Title:
Enough To Live On
Chapter
Title: Courage, Bella!
Author:
Restive Nature
Disclaimer:
I do not own the rights to Twilight, the series or characters created
within the series. They belong respectively to Stephenie Meyers.
Original characters appearing in this fiction are all that I own. No
money is being made from this fiction. No
infringement is intended and this fiction is for private enjoyment
only.
Rating:
up to NC-17
Chapter
Rating- PG
Genre:
Twilight
Type:
Romance
Pairing:
Bella/ Jasper
Summary:
Bella decides that she has had enough of this merry-go-round she is
on and when she proposes her plan to Jasper, will it be enough for
them to live on?
Spoilers/
Time line: This is AU/ All human cast.
Feedback:
Always welcome!
Distribution:
Ask first please.
A/N:
I have taken the liberty of including some actual places that reside
in Seattle for the sake of some authenticity. But please be aware
that I have not visited Seattle since I was a child. Everything I
have gleaned about these places come from the Internet, so take it
all with a grain of salt!
A/N2:
This fiction is the result of my participation in NaNoWriMo 2011.
Enough
To Live On
Chapter
One- Courage, Bella!
BPOV
I
stood in the cramped bedroom of my small apartment, staring at my
reflection in the mirror of the dresser set that I had taken with me
all those years ago when I had struck out on my own. If anyone had
told me that I, Isabella M. Swan, ten years ago, or five or even a
year ago, that I would be embarking on a venture such as this, I
would have called them crazy.
Ten
years ago, still in college, rushing here and there to go to class,
get to work, make ends meet, the advice of my mother still ringing in
my ears, children were the last thing on my mind. Except when they
disrupted the children's section in the bookstore where I held one of
my numerous part time jobs over the college years. And that was more
an annoyance than fond thinking. It amazed me then and still does
today, just how much of a mess just one child could make on the
orderliness of the rows of books that the upper echelon of the book
store hierarchy would send me to repair. Being that it was a steady
paycheck, I kept my mouth shut and just repaired the damage as often
as it was needed. Which was like, every five minutes, or worse, on
weekends.
Five
years ago, I was joining the workforce in earnest, having earned my
degree in Accounting. Up until that point, I had worked freelance and
for a few firms. One time was a temp agency that ended up being the
stuff of nightmares. And then I was offered a position with Stone and
Associates Accounting Firm. They were not the most prestigious firm
in the city of Seattle, Washington, my home since graduating. They
did however have a good reputation and I knew even then I would have
been a fool not to take the offer. The steps were on my mind.
You
see, when I was young, I often heard from my scatterbrained mother,
Renee, the hazards of getting married and having children way too
early in life. And she was speaking from personal experience. For she
and my father, Charlie, were married straight out of high school with
me on the way only months later. And while my mother always made sure
in the same sentence to reassure me that I was loved and wanted, it
was not something she would repeat, had she the chance to do it all
again. Marriage could wait. If a guy really loved you, he'd want to
experience the world with you. Children could wait because smart
women were ready to take on the challenge of a child, when they were
emotionally equipped and financially set.
All
this had been on my mind. I was on the right path. If only my long
standing boyfriend had been on the same page. Oh, Jared had
definitely agreed that seeing what the world had to offer was the
bomb, and having kids could definitely wait. It was the idea that my
concept of relationships included monogamy to your partner. Not your
partner and a bit of fluff on the side. The moment I had found out
about the other woman, I had dumped Jared like a hot potato. It just
figured that less than six months after my unceremonious walking out
of apartment we shared, Jared would find his soul mate Kim, to whom
he has been happily and as far as I know, monogamously married to,
for the last three years.
I
cried buckets of useless tears over that, as my best girlfriends
gathered around me to console me and reassure how worthless Jared had
been. This had continued several weeks until one day, when I realized
that I was mourning my plans being derailed more than I was Jared
himself. That was when I picked myself up and forced myself to move
on. The plan wasn't derailed, it was just postponed a little while. I
reassured myself that at twenty-six, I had plenty of time. I was
still young.
But
then a year ago just before my thirtieth birthday, it started. It
wasn't noticeable at first. I mean, it was natural to attend the baby
showers of all of my married, and some unmarried, girlfriends. To
visit and coo over those little precious bundles once they'd arrived.
It was completely normal to listen to my parents voices anxiously
inquiring if I was dating anyone new. And if I was, was it serious,
did I think it could be serious? And then my mother asked the dreaded
question.
“So
when are we going to be hearing the pitter patter of little feet
around here? You're not getting any younger, you know,
Isabella.”
I
still shudder at the complete turn around of my mother. That was when
the clock began ticking it's countdown. That's when I would catch
myself staring wistfully, not just at friend's babies, but every baby
I crossed paths with. That's when I started accepting the blind dates
that my friends had always tried, without success to set me up on.
Hoping that if I just started getting out there, eventually something
would click. It never did.
Of
course, looking back on it now, I realize that I was still carrying a
lot of the baggage from my early relationships. Jared of course, that
lying cheating jerk. There was Jacob, my post college rebound that
was more like a brother than a lover and the epic fail that was Ed-.
I flinched as just the thought of him ran through my mind.
Edward
Cullen, the guy I had thought to be my dream man. He had done such a
number on my head, that I still reeled from it eight years later.
Jared was a knight in shining armor compared to him. And poor, poor
Jacob had been the one to reap the craziness of that aftermath. I
shook my head and turned my attention back to looking over my
reflection.
I
had chosen simplicity tonight. A dark red blouse with cap sleeves
that worked well in the office and outside, paired with my black
swing skirt. The scalloping on the sleeves of my blouse was echoed in
the edging of the skirt and I liked how the material flowed around my
legs. I had already slipped on the patent black kitten heel shoes
that was as high as I dared wear for shoes. I had been a horrible
klutz growing up and while I had outgrown it some, I still preferred
to wear a low heel, because I never knew when an embarrassing
incident was around the corner and I hoped not to tempt the fates too
much.
I
collected my black knit, three quarter length sleeve, cashmere
sweater from my queen sized bed. I wished once more that I could have
been able to fit a king sized in here, like the one Jared and I had
shared (we were both sprawlers and at six foot, six inches, Jared
took up a lot of space), but limited space and budget had landed me
with this slightly used, queen sized from my good friends Angela and
Ben Cheney. They had gotten rid of it after many complaints, mostly
from their parents that it was too soft. I guess the older folks
preferred the stiff as a board mattress setting on their beds.
However, I had always found it just right when I stayed the night
while visiting them and I had jumped at the chance to take it off
their hands.
Swinging
the sweater over my shoulders I gently pushed one arm and then the
other through the sleeves. The color was an ebony black, just
slightly darker than my skirt, but again, I was pleased. I made
certain that the silver swan brooch that I had inherited from my
Grandmother Swan was firmly in place. I had chosen the colors of my
outfit to match specifically with this brooch. There was a small ruby
chip embedded in it that served as the swan's eye and I thought it
distinctive enough to act as I intended it to tonight. I also needed
the added boost of the courage and pride that my grandmother
exhibited whenever I was around. If I thought for one second that I
was completely on my own with this, in any way, shape or form, I
never would have started this whole mess. Even just the thought of my
grandmother, looking on from wherever she had passed on to, cheering
me on, or even just giving me one small nod that she recognized what
I was up to and she would support me no matter what, was enough to
get me moving out the door. With one deep breath in and then out, I
nodded as Grandmother Swan would have done, bracing myself, and
forced myself to walk out my bedroom door, stopping only to pick up
my purse and keys, then out the apartment door.
I
climbed into my small Honda Civic, musing that if I had been climbing
into my long ago beloved rusted Chevy truck, I would have felt
invincible. But it had died for good just after I had graduated from
high school and no mechanic would touch it, citing rust, age and
unavailability of parts for it. Plus, I just didn't have the cash.
The used Toyota I had for college had been a collaborative gift from
my parents and step-father Phil.
I
drove through the streets of Seattle, almost on autopilot, trying
desperately to remember all the techniques of when being the new girl
in town, or in a new and unfamiliar situation, how I could calm the
butterflies rampaging through my stomach. None of them were working
now. As I pulled up to the quaint but excellent restaurant that I had
chosen for tonight, I gave myself one more once over in the rear view
mirror. I rubbed at the lower corner of my right eye, where I had
gone a little heavy with the eyeliner. I had learned through trial
and error over the years that I was never going to look good with
make up slathered all over my face. And it wasn't something I used a
lot of in my usual every day get up. But for special occasions I
would make the effort. And thanks to my good natured friends giving
me advice and when warranted, soliciting tips from the professionals
who worked the classier make up and perfume counters, I had
eventually had it pounded into my head, how to highlight my facial
assets. At least I didn't look like a clown tonight, because I was
sure feeling foolish for thinking this whole idea would work out with
even one iota of idealism.
But
I had little choice. I had made the first move. He had responded and
now it was up to me to follow through.
Shutting
off my vehicle, I pulled the keys from the ignition and settled them
into my purse before slinging it over my shoulder and climbing from
the car, engaging the locks. Seattle might be a lovely city to live
in, but it was still no stranger to crime. And I was a small town
cop's daughter. Charlie had gone a little nuts getting me big city
ready when the time came for me to head off to college. Drilling into
me safety consciousness and self defense. I think he often chose to
forget that for me, having lived in Los Angeles when I was a child
and Phoenix, Arizona when I was a teen, the small town of Forks,
where my dad had lived all his life, was the anomaly. But still, his
lessons were well meant and I took them to heart, just because I was
aware of the dangers of a single woman living in the city.
The
warmth of the restaurant wasn't much different from the heat of the
city on this balmy June evening and I still reveled in it. Three
years in Forks wasn't enough to inure me to the rain and constant
cover of clouds over the tiny town. Forks, WA saw perhaps the highest
rainfall per annum over any other city in Washington, maybe in the
pacific northwest itself. I didn't know anymore, as I had no reason
to know, no longer living there as I did.
I
approached the maitre d's podium, where a young woman was looking
something over. I knew from experience that this restaurant did not
require reservations and on a Thursday night, were likely to have
several tables available. Assagio Ristorante was once a favorite of
mine, from my college days, until Ed- he had ruined it for me.
It had taken a long time before I could step in again. And upon that
first entry several years ago, to find that the decor and menu had
been drastically updated, all my fears about the place had been laid
to rest. It was my favorite restaurant once more.
“Good
evening,” the hostess greeted with a wide smile, her wide set green
eyes holding my own easily. “Table for one?”
“Two
please,” I responded, glad that her expression didn't change. “I'm
a little early meeting my friend. He'll be along soon.”
“Of
course,” the girl nodded, grabbing another menu from her pile.
“Right this way ma'am.”
I
had to grin as I followed along through the winding path of tables.
It was only in the last few years that people had starting ma'aming
me. I hadn't thought I was old enough for that and when I complained
to my mother of it, she laughed and told me that it had started for
her as soon as it was obvious that she was pregnant with me. So I
should count myself lucky. And looking at it from that humorous
viewpoint, I was able to laugh it off now.
“Is
this all right?” the hostess asked of me, standing before an
intimate table for two. I glanced over it cursorily. It was in view
of the front door and I could take a seat at the opposite side, there
to be seen when he came in.
“This is perfect, thank you,” I nodded. I slid my purse strap down, hanging it off the back of the chair before I took me seat. I scooted in just slightly as the hostess laid the menus on the table.
“Can
I get you anything to drink?” she asked next. Not needing to look
at the menu or wine list, I grinned up at her. A good stiff whiskey?
It would probably help the nerves, but the babbling that invariably
showed up in the long run, and the loss of my brain filter was
something I could do without tonight.
“A
glass of the house zinfandel would be fine, thanks,” I answered.
The girl, Wendy, I had finally noticed her name tag, nodded but still
hadn't moved.
“And
would you care to order an appetizer while you wait?”
“Just
the wine thank you,” I dismissed the thought of food at this point.
Not only did I hate eating before the person I was dining with had
arrived, food at this point would not have appeased the butterflies.
I fingered the menu before me and opened it. Deciding what I wanted
to eat couldn't hurt anything. I let myself admire the fancy script
and cute depictions of the dishes that adorned the cream colored
pages. Another young woman brought my wine and introduced herself as
Karen. She would be our waitress this evening. And as soon as we were
ready, just to let her know. I simply nodded and took a small sip of
the wine.
In
the ten minutes perhaps, that I sat there, sipping alternately
between the wine and the water that Karen had brought in preparation
of the meal to be ordered, I watched as several couples moved through
the restaurant. One older couple holding hands across the table from
the moment they sat down and on, had me smiling wistfully. My
grandparent Swan's had done that before my grandfather passed on when
I was a child. I never knew if my Higgenbotham grandparents had done
so and had never thought to ask my mother, given that they had passed
on when I was very young. It was a nice thought to think that maybe
sometimes that they had.
So
I continued to couple watch, noting nervously as I chewed on my lower
lip that he had not arrived just yet. I began to wonder if I was
looking as foolish as I was feeling, sitting here by myself.
Wondering if maybe I should just order myself something to go and
forget about this insane idea. I mulled it over several times,
checking the time frequently. Fifteen minutes had now elapsed since I
had arrived. Finally I decided that I should look over the menu
again, even though I knew I would probably just order a slice of
their vegetarian lasagna, my go to comfort food from Assagio's and
stop by the grocery store for a pint of Ben & Jerry's, when a
deep voice took me by surprise.
“Bella?”
the husky voice curled around me and the sounds of the other diners
faded away. “Bella Swan, is that you?”
I
let my gaze rise slowly, certain that I knew this voice, though the
impression was vague. A male was standing before my table, clad in
dark black boot cut jeans, covered just below the hips with a western
cut gray jacket. Hands were holding a black Stetson and I could see
strength in them, weather beaten though they were. A crisp white
shirt under the jacket completed the fancy cowboy ensemble and I
lifted my eyes a little further to catch the piercing gray eyes under
a mop of unruly blond curls that was at once familiar to me. I gasped
in recognition and my mouth curved up in a wide grin as I exclaimed,
“Jasper!”
Chapter Two- Courage Jasper
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