Savannah was perfection. It’s easily one of the most beautiful cities I had ever been to. The tree covered squares, the architecture, everything about it speaks of romance and history. I can't have imagined a more wonderful way to spend several, uninterrupted days with Edward Cullen. The phone calls home to Masen reminded me of the one thing that was missing. Well, two actually-- Masen and Darcy, but they were a package deal no; where one was, the other was close by. The only time the two were separated these days was when Mini was at school or I was staying at my place alone. My guys would stay at my place every once in a while, but on the rare occasion I came home Masen would always send Darcy home with me with strict orders to "take care of our girl." Lord, I loved that kid. I couldn't even think of the mutt as "mine" anymore. He was Mini's every bit as much as he was mine.
Masen had asked the sweetest questions about our trip when we would call to check in: were we having fun? Had we eaten any amazing food? How many ghosts had we seen on the ghost tour? Did we miss him? He made sure to give us the scoop on all that was going on back home. He had kept a running tally of how many times Rose had smacked Emmett upside his head for some pea-brained comment or another. The final count: sixty-three; I actually expected the number to be much higher than that, to be honest. Alice had been spending some extra time with him, listening to him practice the piano. Jazz had been helping him write something new on the guitar. His grandparents were in heaven spoiling him rotten (as if that were even possible). Edward was convinced there would be no living with the kid when we got back, and neither of us could wait to get home and see the munchkin.
We arrived in town Monday afternoon; stopping at the Cullen's to pick up Mini and the mutt before going back to Edward's condo. We had the most amazing dinner together. Edward cooked for us and afterward, he played the piano while Masen and I stood side by side at the sink washing up.
"I'm really glad you're home, B. I had a lot of fun while you guys were gone, but I missed you." My arms wrapped around him instinctively, pulling him close. I melted when his arms circled my waist as he tucked into me. As I mushed a kiss onto the crown of his head, the thought that his hair was as soft as the man he so perfectly resembled slid effortlessly through my subconscious.
"Aw, we missed you too, little man. So much. We talked about you the whole time. I promise you we'll all go someplace together next time, oaky?" I felt his head nod against my chest.
"Sounds like a plan, B. I vote Disney World or Miami," he said with certainty.
"Okay, I get why Disney, but... Miami?"
"'Cause there's hotties down there, duh!"
Of course, what was I thinking?
"Then I vote Disney. I don't need to be competing for you and your dad's attention. Minnie Mouse is the only female I want posing in pictures with my men."
"Aw, B, you don't have anything to worry about. When it comes to you, there is no competition." I pulled away from him and gave him a reproachful look.
"Man, you are your father's son! Right down to the smooth talkin'."
~oOo~
Life settled into a comfortable pattern. Edward’s life with Masen grafted seamlessly with my own. Things seemed to be better than we could have hoped for. And yet, I had more than a few unresolved concerns regarding the offer from the New York Philharmonic, despite the fact that I'd assured Edward that I wasn't interested; I wasn't entirely convinced of that fact myself. On one hand, I was flattered to even be offered such an amazing opportunity; it was truly an honor, and a large part of me wanted to be worthy of it. On the other hand, I knew it was impractical. My life was in Florida with Edward, Mini, and our families. I had a well-respected job that paid my bills and fulfilled me immensely, but I still felt as though something was missing. I had no clue what that "something" was, so I did what I always did when I needed to think: I rode. I hopped on Janice and took off full-throttle up A1A. I had no idea where I was headed; I just rode. I looked out over the waves as I cruised along the coast. A sharp pang of longing gripped my chest when I passed by Edward's condo without pulling in. Janice almost turned as if she were on auto pilot, but I kept her straight. I wanted Edward, but I needed clarity more at that moment. I may not have had all the answers, but the one thing I knew was that I had to figure what to do on my own before I went to him with this.
The scenery passed by in a blur; how I ended up parked in front of a small beach hut of a house in Jax Beach was beyond me. Yet, there I sat in front of my mother's house, the faded blue paint chipped and pealing, and the sheer curtains billowing from the open windows. The front door sat propped open at an inviting angle, while the screen door kept the mosquitoes and other bothersome pests safely outside where they belonged. I shut off the engine and shoved the kickstand down before removing my helmet and climbing off the bike. With a sigh I walked to the door, tentatively climbing the few stairs to the front porch. My hand shook a little when I went to knock on the weather-grayed wood. I had no fucking clue what I was doing there, but I figured I should at least stop in.
"Mom? Phil? Anyone home," I called into the dark house.
Of course they're here, dummy. Who just goes off and leaves a house open like this? They call you a Master of music? I'd say more like a master of the obvious. There was nothing like a little self-deprecating inner dialogue to get one's spirits up.
I was relieved to hear my mom call out from somewhere in the house that she'd be right there. I was relieved that I didn't have to stand out on the porch belittling myself like a crazy person for much longer, and more than slightly relieved that I wouldn't be forced to conjure up all manner of disturbing scenarios to explain the lack of activity in the unusually quiet and open house. Ever since we lost Reese I had a tendency to let my overactive imagination run away from me when things were out of the ordinary. I could easily imagine Renee and Phil being abducted by anal-probing aliens or walking in on a bloody scene where both had been decimated by bloodthirsty wolves as plausible explanations for why my mother and stepfather weren't answering their door in as timely a fashion as I deemed fit. Patience was never really one of my strong points.
Mom appeared at the screen door with a dishtowel in one hand and a saucepan in the other. I had apparently caught her in a rare moment of domesticity. It was these moments that would send me back to my childhood when we would all be lazing around on a Sunday afternoon. Reese and I coloring in a book together while Mom and Dad did some odd job around the house, or me playing piano while my sister lay nearby quietly playing and requesting her favorites.
"Hey, Baby Girl! Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," my mother exclaimed as she swung open the screen door to let me in. "Come in! Come in! Would you like some tea? I just brewed a fresh pitcher!"
"Hey, Momma," I kissed and hugged her-- pan and all. "I'd love some tea. I can get it, though. I didn't mean to just barge in and turn everything upside down."
"Nonsense! Come on in the kitchen and keep your old mom company. Hey, Phil! Our girl is here!"
I heard a commotion in the garage and moments later the door to the kitchen flew open. "Bella! I thought I heard the distinct sound of a finely tuned machine outside! Did you ride Janice here?"
Phil scooped me up and spun me around the tiny space. Things had always been easy between us. Phil never tried to replace Dad, but he always made sure I knew he loved me as if I were his own. What kid doesn't want more love? It was nice knowing that I had someone extra in my life who was looking after my best interest. Besides, Phil always viewed his role in my life as the uncle that got to spoil his favorite niece rather than a father figure, and if he wanted to spoil me then I was more than happy to oblige him. "What brings my favorite girl over?"
I chuckled as I settled into a chair at the little table in the kitchen. Mom brought me a glass filled to the brim with sweet tea, ice and lemon rings. "Honestly, it wasn't planned. I just started riding and this is where Janice bought me. Guess she thought I needed to see my Floridian parental units."
"Well, I always did love that bike," Mom piped in.
"Its a thing of beauty and smart to boot; just like our girl," Phil agreed.
"Cut it out, you two! You'll give us both inflated egos. There'll be no living with us."
"So what's new? How's Edward and that sweet boy of his?" Mom asked as she stood with her back to the sink, drying as we chatted.
"Everything's wonderful. Edward and I just got back from Savannah recently. It was so perfect. And Masen? He's... everything. I think I love that kid as much as I do his dad." I felt the heat creeping up my neck into my face.
"They're both blessed to have someone like you loving them, sweetie. It makes my heart smile seeing you so happy," Mom gushed.
"I really am happy, Mom. I can't remember ever being this happy."
"Oh, baby, that's so good to hear." She rushed to pull me into a hug. I don't know what about that gesture made me break, but suddenly I was in tears. Big, fat drops fell from my eyes, and before I knew it my quiet cry became an all out snot fest. Mom drew me closer, "Honey! What's the matter? Don't cry, sweetie," she soothed and comforted me as only my mom could.
"I don't know, Mom," I wailed, "It's just..."
"What, honey, just tell us," she prompted. We sat at the table and she took my hands in hers; rubbing her thumbs over my knuckles. I stared at our hands. If I looked at her I knew I'd burst into tears all over again.
"I got a call out of the blue the other day, from the New York Philharmonic. They've pretty much offered me the principle piano, if I want it." My voice sounded small and shaky. I was so afraid to make this public knowledge. If it was just "mine" to know then I could keep it a secret how it was quickly becoming something that I might want. Once it was out there it would be difficult to lock those budding desires away again.
"No way! Seriously? How did this happen? When did this happen? Are you going to accept the chair? Bella! This is amazing!" It was nice to hear someone else's excitement about the situation. Until then, the only other person I'd told was Edward, and his reaction had been less than positive. The pride in both Mom and Phil's voices was evident, and they helped me to relax and enjoy the moment as well. How many times does a girl get an opportunity like this one?
I told her all about the phone call and we talked about the offer; well, what little I knew about it. We discussed what it would mean as far as the changes in my life. That was the hardest part; considering the offer meant that I had to consider leaving Edward and Masen. That, in a nutshell, is what hurt the most. I felt like I was betraying them simply in my consideration. Voicing those fears to my parents brought on a fresh wave of tears. My head sunk to the table and it felt as if my heart might break. Mom let me cry, and then handed me a box of tissues.
"Baby, I know this is hard, but I think you need to seriously look into this offer. Go to New York. Hear them out. You can't make a solid decision without all the information. You may get there and realize that there's no way in hell you could do what they’re asking of you. Or, you may get there and realize that is exactly where you need to be, but you can't know for sure unless you go. Don't put the cart before the horse. Stop worrying about what might happen. Besides, I don’t see why this has to be a ‘choose one over the other’ situation. Why can’t you have both?”
“That just seems selfish, Mom. How can I ask them to put their lives on hold for me? And I kinda already know how Edward will feel about this.”
“How can you possibly you know that, Bells? You aren’t a mind reader,” Phil quipped.
“No, but he all but said that he didn’t want me to consider leaving.”
“When was this, baby? Are you sure he was talking about this specific instance?” Leave it to my mom to try to find a loophole.
“I told him about the call when we were in Savannah. I got the feeling he wouldn’t be too open when he flipped out over even the idea of me leaving. I may have made a huge mistake when I promised him I wasn’t going anywhere.”
“Oh, sweetie. You can’t be held to a promise like that, and Edward’s a reasonable man who loves you deeply. Give him a chance. I think you’ll be surprised.”
“Fine. So let’s say I go to New York, and I decide that I want to do this. Do I leave the only thing that’s made me feel whole? Can I do that?”
“What do you mean, Bella? You’ve had a wonderful life,” my mother argued.
“I know, Mom, but I’ve never felt like it was mine.”
“I’m confused, baby.”
I sighed, not quite sure how to tell my parents about the very void that I’d spent my entire life backfilling just so they’d never see it.
“I know that I’m blessed. I have a fantastic job, three of the most amazing parents, a beautiful home, wonderful friends and a ready made family ripe for my picking. I get that, and I am so very grateful for all of it. But...” They sat looking at me expectantly. “But there’s many times when I can’t help but feel that my life would be very different if Reese had lived.” My voice tapered out to a whisper. Both looked at me, patiently waiting for me to clarify.
“Most of the decisions I’ve made in my life have been a direct result of her loss. Mom, she’s still so much a part of me. It’s almost as if she’s still here. I’ve felt this driving force pushing me to do things that I might not have done if things had been different.”
“Like what, Bella?”
“Teaching, living with Dad, staying in Washington, moving here, everything, really. Everything changed when she died.”
“Oh, sweetie, of course it did! She was the light of all our lives. But, Bella, life is full of moments that alter the course it’s on. I still don’t see how Reese’s death is affecting the decisions you make regarding your life.”
“She’ll never do these things, Mom! She’ll never get to stand in front of a classroom of kids and impart words of wisdom to them, she’ll never see how much you and Dad would have been proud of her when she walked across that stage to graduate, and she’ll never know what a huge hole she left behind when she died. I just feel like I can’t waste this life I’ve been given when she never got the chance to live hers. Every choice, every decision I’ve made since waking up and learning that she wouldn’t be doing the same has been weighed against what she would have done or wanted. I've tried to make the most out of the life I was given and not waste the one she lost.” The breath shuddered from my chest, threatening to shake free the sobs I was so desperate to hold in.
“Isabella.” My mother never called me by my given name, and to hear it meant the words that followed were grave, and not to be taken lightly. “My darling girl, I-- we-- are so proud of you. Your dad, Phil, and I could not have asked for a better daughter than the one that sits before us now. You have accomplished so many amazing things in your young life, but make no mistake, you accomplished those things. You, not Reese. This has been your life, not hers. When will you stop seeing yourself as the ‘one who didn’t die’ and see that you’re a survivor? And while it may not have been fair for her to have died so young, she lived every moment on this earth to the fullest. That is what you should be striving to carry out as her legacy, not these ‘unfulfilled dreams’ of hers. You aren’t doing yourself or Reese any favors doing things that you think she would have done if she had lived.”
The tears flowed freely down my face as my mother sat across from me and told me, finally, that I was enough. That my being there, even though Reese was not, was not only enough, but everything.
“Baby, you can’t live for her. She’s gone. Sure, she’s with you in spirit, and knowing that you still feel her so strongly after all these years touches me more than I can express, but you have to let her go. You’ve made this cage for yourself from her dreams, her ‘might-have-beens.' You have to set yourself free, Bella. And if New York is freedom for you then you need to fly, sweetie. But, you won’t know until you try. At least try. Please. For you.”
My mother held me like she did when I was small. She let me truly mourn my sister’s loss as we sat there at her kitchen table. Phil, her rock, sat there with us rubbing each of our backs as we cried and healed. Mom’s soft “I love you”s soothed me until I could breathe without sobbing. Then, typical of my mom, she fed me vegetarian lasagna with sauce made from tomatoes she’d grown in her garden. I left that night promising them both that I would call Mr. Stewart about going to New York. Even though I felt lighter than I had in a long time as I rode home on Janice, I couldn’t help but feel like I was about to let someone I loved down.
Old habits die hard.
~oOo~
Renee was right, I needed to look at things from a different perspective. For far too long I had been living my life-- no, not my life, Reese's life-- from inside a cage. I knew there was so much that I could be doing, so much more I dreamed of doing, but instead I hid behind the bars that I had erected in order to keep the big, bad world at a safe distance. While it may have worked for a time, the safety I perceived to have constructed within its bars was doing more damage than good in the long run. I had no idea who Isabella Swan was. Everything I had dedicated my life to was a shadow compared to the dreams I held as a child-- dreams I dared to dream when I was really safe. Dreams of beautifully shined instruments poised on a stage, lights shining down on a lone bench, a sea of enraptured listeners masked by the dark of the house, and myself sitting in the midst of it all, playing some of the most beautifully composed music the world has ever heard. I had very little in my life that I could look around and distinguish as unique to the things I desired out of life. That was, apart from Edward and Masen. Those two were the only aspects of "Bella" that I recognized as being solely mine. Everything else: the teaching, the settling, the fear of being "more;" that was someone else. Sure I loved teaching, but I loved the music more. I was starting to see that the teaching was a means to an end; my way to connect to that part of me and Reese that died with her. Every time I taught I felt close to her, felt her presence in my life; but some small part of me wondered if it was enough.
I may have never had the courage to see for myself and admit that maybe I needed more, had it not been for that call from the New York Philharmonic. The invitation to do something bigger than me, bigger than the dreams I'd let myself dream, sacred the shit out of me. What did I, little Bella, know about performing? I hadn't played in front of an audience larger than an elementary school assembly in over fifteen years, and that last time had been a disaster. One tends to avoid repeating those experiences in life that leave us scared and embarrassed. Especially when said experience happened not long after one lost her entire life.
Renee and Charlie had just officially split, and Renee and I had moved to Florida to be near her family. I was having a hard time adjusting. I'd started piano lessons with a new instructor, she was good at what she did, but was overly impressed with my abilities as a child musician. I guess she saw me as her meal ticket. The woman was more concerned with getting me interviews with conservatories and schools that catered to budding, young artists than teaching me anything new. Eventually, she arranged to have me participate in a concert with several other young students. I was last on the program, and the uncomfortable, knotted feeling in my stomach continued to work itself tighter and tighter. I wanted to get out there and show everyone what I could do, show them how beautiful I knew the music could be, but I had no idea how to overcome the fear. By the time I walked out and took my place on the bench I was a ball of nerves and shaking like a leaf. With my hands perched over Middle C I took a deep breath-- and proceeded to puke all over the ivories. It was horrible. I was whisked off the stage and over a bucket. That was the last time I performed in front of a large audience. Of course, I had to give concerts as I got older, but they were all on a much smaller scale, and with time I overcame my intense fear of the stage. When the time came to give my final student concert I actually enjoyed being in front of small audiences. I was no longer that scared little girl who questioned her life. Or so I thought. As it turned out, I had just buried her deep inside, and later she'd creep out when I least expected it.
Right after I completed my Master’s I was invited to participate with a select group of musicians in a showcase for the major contributors to the School of Music at UDub in hopes of generating more funds to the college by means of generous donations. What better way to do this than by parading your most recent and highly acclaimed graduates? There would be performances from all of the disciplines, but the piano would be in the spotlight that evening with my performance being one of the last. By that point in my life I had all but overcome my stage fright; at the most it was a severe case of butterflies just before I went onstage. That night it manifested itself as a rogue hiccup or two, and a cool glass of water settled those before my time came to take the stage.
Dressed in a stunning grey, floor-length strapless formal gown I stood in the wings waiting my turn to walk across the stage and sit at the bench. The theater was filled with deep pockets and thick checkbooks, not to mention my family, past professors and mentors, and every friend I'd made in the past six years at UDub. The excitement to have the opportunity to show those I loved and respected what I was fully capable of canceled out any remaining nerves, and with utter confidence I walked across the stage to take my place at the piano bench. A courteous, welcoming applause followed me to my seat as I situated myself at the keys and got into position. The crowd settled into a quiet charged with anticipation. Hands poised, feet perfectly placed, everything was in order, and yet the music never came. Somewhere between waiting in the wings and sitting at the bench I'd managed to forget everything I knew. It was like a blank slate in my head, like I'd never seen a piano before, much less played one. I must have sat there in silence for close to five minuets before I was ushered off the stage. For the second time in my life and career as a concert pianist I had suffered debilitating stage fright; if that wasn't a sure sign that I wasn't meant to be a performer, then I had no cue what could be a clearer one. I walked away from any hopes of becoming a concert pianist and the instructor in me took firm root.
It was a shock, after all these years, to have the performing bug bite again. The suddenness of it all threw me, and left me doubting if this was just a whim to try one more time to fulfill that childhood dream of being something "more." Or, was this who I was always meant to be but never became? Back at home, I decided that this was my time. My chance to see what it was I was made of. Mom and Phil saw that this was something worthwhile, and since I was too big of a chicken and unwilling to bring the topic up to Edward again and risk his not understanding my need to at least try, I decided to take their advice and simply visit the NYC Philharmonic and see what they were offering. With my mind made up to go to New York, the only thing I had left to do was come up with a convincing cover for where I was going and what I'd be doing once I got there. I seriously lacked any skills when it came to telling outright lies, so I sent up a silent prayer that it wouldn't come to that.
~oOo~
New York was easier to pull off than I had imagined. I didn't need an elaborate plan explaining where I was going or why I'd be out of town. It just so happened that Edward was called out of town the same weekend I was scheduled to visit Mr. Stewart and the orchestra. I flew out on Friday after school let out and was back Sunday before he even knew I was gone. Still, I felt as though I had done something that I needed to keep from him. A part of me, whether rational or not, felt that he would never understand and just try to talk me out of thinking about it at all. Much like he had in Savannah. Not that I would ever imagine Edward would try to stop me from going to New York, it was just that I doubted that he would see why this would be something I needed to do. And who was to say that anything would come from me going to New York. I didn't see the point of upsetting him or Masen if this turned out to be a passing whim. Better I make this trip quietly than worry either of them about a possibility of me pursuing the Philharmonic. As far as he knew, I had all I needed right here on the shores of Ponte Vedra Beach. Perhaps, just a few short weeks ago he would have been so very right, but I wasn't sure that was the case so much anymore.
So, I snuck off like a thief in the night to the Big Apple to meet with Mr. Stewart. It was an interesting experience, one I found myself wishing I could share with Edward on more than one occasion. The W was beautiful, and the view of Times Square was stunning. Brandon Stewart met me for dinner, where he explained the next day's agenda. A tour, an overview of what my commitment would be to the production, and a brief meeting and live audition with the music director. The latter was just a formality, one that I didn’t mind complying with. Lincoln Center was impressive. To be standing there was exhilarating, but nothing prepared me for the feeling I had when I stood on the main stage. It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time. And I could imagine myself back there again, at some point. I was treated to a very thorough tour of Avery Fisher Hall by Mr. Stewart, where I was ushered behind the scenes into a large, albeit simple, music room. Seated in the center of the room was a stunning grand piano. Stewart explained that after I'd had warmed up a bit and felt comfortable enough, that we would be joined by a few others who would then sit in on my official audition. It all rushed past in a whirlwind, and over before I knew it. I'd like to think that I executed the piece flawlessly and conveyed every ounce of emotion I felt at that moment, but to tell you the truth, I could hardly remember what I'd chosen to play. When I was finished I was thanked profusely for my time and effort, commended on my talent, and informed that, should I accept it, they wanted to extend an invitation to me to perform as the Principal Piano.
I was returned to my beautifully modern hotel room where I ate a decadent meal, alone. As I sat there I wondered what I was doing in this city by myself. Then I remembered that I was okay with alone, just not with lonely. I had done alone for most of my adult life. That was, until Edward and Mini came into it. I could do alone again, but I hoped and prayed that I wouldn't have to.
That night was rough. I fell asleep amongst the backdrop of the City's lights winking at me through the open drapes of my windows; with Edward's voice in my head, his love close to my heart, and his possible response to the news of my semi-betrayal weighing heavily on my mind. For the first time in a long time my dreams were dark and disturbing like those of my youth, but instead of losing Reese as I had every other time I dreamed of that horrifying night, it was Edward and Masen who were the victims. They were who lay broken and bleeding in my wake.
~oOo~
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