15. Needs

EPOV

Isabella thinks this asshole is her father?

Carlisle excused himself for a moment, telling Isabella that he would be right back. I knew he was going upstairs to get one of Bella’s picture albums to show Isabella who her real father is. What would she say? Would she even recognize Charlie?


Isabella started sucking on her bottom lip and kept her grip on my shirt, making sure I stayed near her. She was eyeing Alice warily.


Should I try to talk to her? Alice thought to me.


I nodded.


“Hi, Isabella,” Alice greeted.


Isabella waved a little at her before hiding her face in my shoulder and blushing.

I chuckled and started rubbing her back softly. It was endearing how shy she actually was. Soon, her head lifted from it’s hiding spot at the crook of my shoulder and she turned it to look up at me.

“Can I have a pop?” she asked sweetly.


“Soda?” I clarified, and turned to make my way over to the fridge, but she shook her head.


“Huh-uh…a freezie pop. Can I have one? Pretty please?”


I shook my head regretfully, “We don’t have any.”


She furrowed her brow and seemed to be thinking for a second, before trying again and asking, “Do you got any lollies?”


I smiled at her. “What’s a lolly, Isabella?”


She smiled. “You know, um…candy on a stick that you suck on. And sometimes there’s yummy stuff in the middle of ‘em. Like gum or chocolate,” she explained.


“Oh…no, we don’t have any lollipops either,” I informed her.

She suddenly looked crestfallen and frowned.

I traced my finger along her pouting bottom lip and apologized softly. “Sorry, baby…”


She looked at me anxiously and started to suck on her bottom lip again, before switching to her top one, then repeating the process. After a few seconds, she stopped and sighed restlessly, then popped her thumb in her mouth. Once it was in her mouth, I noticed that the upset look on her face started to melt away.


I warred with myself for a minute before realizing that I really didn’t want that thumb in her mouth. It’s a bad habit, plus I had decided last night that it was fine for bedtime…but that’s it.


“Isabella, stop that,” I lightly scolded her before I wrapped my hand around her wrist and gently pulled her hand away from her mouth. I kissed her palm and kept her hand in one of mine to prevent anymore thumb sucking this morning.

I didn’t expect her to be instantly pouty and restless again, but she was. Her feet kicked out lazily and padded back onto the cabinets below her and she started sucking on those lips again, making a whining sound in the back of her throat the whole time.

She looked at me longingly and I asked, “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer though, because Carlisle came back into the kitchen with Bella’s white childhood picture album. He put the album down at her side and, as predicted, she inched closer to me again, as he approached her side. This time though, instead of backing away, he stayed nearby to show her the album and to get her to begin being comfortable in his presence.


When he opened the album, it flipped to a page with Charlie’s picture on it. Isabella’s eyes were glued to all the pictures, not focusing on any particular one, so Carlisle pointed to an old picture of Charlie Swan from about ten years ago.

“Isabella, who’s this?” he asked, making sure to always keep his voice soft and soothing due to her apparent nervousness around him.

“Him?” she checked, pointing to the same picture.

“Yes, him…” Carlisle confirmed.

She removed her finger and gaze from the glossy paper and answered, “That’s the bad man.”

What?


Confused by her answer, I asked her before Carlisle could, “What makes him a ‘bad man‘, sweetheart?”


“He’s the dirty kike that fucked my mommy,” her soft voice informed us matter-of-factly.

“What?” Carlisle breathed out, a little shocked and sharing my sentiment of not liking those words coming from her mouth.

Profanity and racial slurs are not going to be acceptable at all coming from Isabella…especially the racist crap.


She started playing with the hem of my shirt before she gave a delicate shrug and explained further in that child-like voice I was beginning to adore. “Um, Daddy says that it’s that kike’s fault that I’m evil b’cuz when he fucked my mommy, he put me in her tummy. And Mommy was sad b’cuz she didn’t want an evil baby like me, but the bad man in the picture made her keep me b'cuz he didn’t want me either. B'cuz I’m a dirty Jew baby and that’s why Daddy has to hurt me…so he can get rid of my bad stuff for me so I can be pure for my mommy so that she’ll want to keep me.” She shrugged again and scrunched up her nose a bit before adding, “But I dunno if she will tho', b’cuz I’m a freaky half-breed kike…no better than those faggots and niggers,” she finished, shaking her head a little, then let go of the piece of my shirt that she had been twisting around on her finger.

We were quiet, not really knowing how to respond to that brain-washing bullshit that Isabella had obviously been fed time and time again, if she’s knows it by heart and gave it as an explanation to describe her biological father.

When she looked back up at us, she sighed. “I’m thirsty…do you got any juice boxes?” she asked hopefully.


“No, but we have juice…I’ll put some in a glass for you,” Alice said, walking over to the cabinets by the refrigerator.

I looked at Isabella evenly, wanting to make this new language rule clear to her. “Isabella, I don’t want to hear those words come out of your mouth anymore…alright?” I tried to keep my voice light, but I knew it had come out sounding stern, and I inwardly cringed. I didn’t want her to think she was in trouble, because she wasn’t.


She looked up at my tone of voice and asked with her confused face inches from mine, “What words?”


I sighed, not wanting to repeat any of those terms, but she was clearly confused, not knowing what she had done wrong. “'Kike’, 'Faggot’, and ‘Nigger’,” I clarified.


She tilted her head to the side and furrowed her brow. “How come?” she asked softly.


“Because they are bad,” I answered, deciding to keep my explanation simple and plain for her.


I was trying to keep my mind wrapped around the fact that she was in a five year old’s frame of mind. She didn’t know any better and these words were probably apart of Bella’s daily vocabulary when she was a child, living with Jim and constantly being in his environment. And that is where these awful phrases are coming from now…through Isabella. It will probably be apart of Isabella’s daily vocabulary.

Fucking hell.


I really didn’t want a reason to be firm with Isabella this early in our relationship, but it looks like I’m not going to have a choice.


Damn it.


“They bad and ucky words?” she asked hesitantly.


I nodded. “Mmm-hmmm,” I hummed as a response, still looking into her confused gaze.

“Naughty…?” she asked slowly.

“Yes, Isabella. All of those things…bad, ucky and naughty,” I clarified further for her, getting tired of the word play and wanting this conversation to be over. I was getting angry.


She must have realized that from my expression and curt tone of voice because then her bottom lip pouted out and her eyes started to water. The salty smell sickened me because I knew it was associated with my Bella crying.

“Am I in trouble?” she asked for the second time this morning.


I sighed and softened my gaze before saying, “Not this time…” letting her know that I won’t put up with that type of language in the future.


She nodded and picked up the cup of juice that Alice put on the counter. After she took a few sips, I took the glass from her and kissed away the single tear that had fallen onto her cheek. I hated that she is upset right now, but at least now she knows what she did wrong, and the tear that I had just kissed away is a sign that she’s remorseful about her language.

“Sorry,” she whispered, confirming my thoughts.

“It’s okay, baby,” I assured her.

Carlisle picked up the album then, and notified us that he was going to go return it to it’s place on Bella’s bookshelf. Alice had left the room after getting Isabella a drink, so that left me alone with her in the kitchen.


“I think it’s time to get you dressed, angel,” I suggested.

She nodded and hopped down off of the counter, but didn’t make a move towards exiting the kitchen.

“I’m hungry…” she said in a slight whiny tone.

“But you just ate, Isabella,” I reminded her.

“Do you got any teddy crackers?” she asked.

I shook my head, not exactly sure what those were. “No, baby…” I responded.

“I want a pop, Edward,” she said lightly.

“We don’t have those, baby,” I repeated.

“How come?” she asked.

“I don’t know, maybe we can get some later,” I said, knowing that I was going out today anyway, for Marie’s new box.

“Can I go play outside?” she asked.

I looked down at her, still clad in only her pajamas. “Not dressed in that,” I informed her, pointing out the thin shirt and tiny shorts she was wearing.

“Do you got any toys?” she asked.

“Not really…” I said, suddenly realizing that while Marie wanted a simple tin box, Isabella might require her own things…like, umm…I don’t know, Barbie dolls or something.


“Do you got any-”


“Sweetheart, go get dressed,” I interrupted her, knowing that my answer to her next question would likely be a ‘no’, as well.

Looks like I’m going to have to go shopping for Isabella.

“But…” she hesitated.

“Yes…?”

“Do you got any stuff to color with?” she asked.

I gave her a stern look. “Upstairs, Isabella. Go get dressed.”


She pouted. “I want a lolly, Edward…” she said, then began sucking on her lips again, alternating them per her routine.

“Well, if you don’t get dressed, then we can’t go out to get any of those things,” I pointed out.

“Where do I get dressed at?” she asked.

“Back up in our bedroom,” I said before taking her hand and leading her towards the staircase.

She looked cautiously at the rest of my family as we passed by them in the living room, but kept up a normal pace. While we were climbing the last set of steps to the third floor, she spoke again.


“Edward, I got to go potty…” she informed me.


I nodded. “You can in a second, baby…there’s a bathroom right next to our bedroom. Remember?”

She shook her head, silently telling me ’no’, and followed me into our room. When she saw her king size bed, she must have completely forgotten about needing to use the restroom, because she ran straight for it. She was quick to climb on then, and without missing a beat, she stood up and started bouncing and jumping all around on the bed.


She seemed to be having fun, so I decided to let her jump for a minute, while I picked up some things from off the floor. She was giggling and twirling around, and after another minute, I reminded her that she had to use the bathroom and get dressed.


She didn’t resist or stall at all, like I thought she might do, because she looked like she was having a lot of fun. I thought that maybe she wouldn’t want to stop. After all, Marie had stalled this morning, and she had been doing the exact same thing.


But Isabella nodded right away and got down off the bed immediately, indicating that she had a very obedient nature. I hoped it was just her nature, and not fear…I didn’t want her thinking that she would be in trouble for small, stupid things.


Isabella went into the bathroom and I started on the task of making the bed. The golden comforter had fallen onto the floor and the pillows were all in disarray while the sheets lay there, dull and crumpled. I guess that’s what happens after a morning of jumping on the bed, though.

She came out of the bathroom a few seconds after I was done putting the bed back in order and asked, “Hey Edward, can we go now? I want to go get my new wicked box…”


I turned to face Marie, before I said, “I’ll tell you what I told Isabella three times already - Get. Dressed.”

She smirked. “Why? I look fucking sexy in this,” she said before performing a little super-model twirl in front of me.


I smirked back. “We’re not going shopping in pajamas, love.”


“We could,” she said wistfully, while walking by me in the direction of the closet.


“Get dressed,” I repeated and slapped her ass lightly as she walked by me.


After she grabbed a pair of jeans and a thin black top, she walked back to the bathroom, winking at me before she closed the door. While she was in there, I took my own pajamas off and got dressed, slipping on some jeans and a simple white t-shirt.


Five minutes later, she came out of the bathroom dressed, her teeth and hair brushed, and walked over to the dresser, fishing for a pair of socks.

After she sank gracefully down to the floor and started to put them on her little pedicured feet, she asked, “Hey Edward, where’s my fuckawesome bike? Is it still at Jake’s?”

I watched as she grabbed a pair of sneakers and started to slip them on before I answered her, dreading her inevitable attitude on this subject.

“That motorcycle is still with Jacob and it’s going to stay over there,” I told her.

“Why?” she asked, starting to lace up her right shoe.

“Because you’re not going to be riding it again.”


Her face shot up at this declaration and she stared me down as she yelled out, “Why?!”


“Because, Marie, motorcycles are not safe and you don’t even have any protective gear. No helmet, or riding jacket -”

“So, we’ll go get a fucking helmet then,” she interrupted me, her voice still raised.


“No,” I told her firmly.

She looked away from me then and finished tying her left shoe, her movements hurried and jerky. I heard her sniffle before I smelt the salt of her tears.


Damn it…


When she stood up, she stomped over to where I was sitting on the bed, and stopped when she was standing in between my legs. Her face, inches from mine, was flushed as she scowled at me, a few of those angry tears streaking down her soft cheeks.

I sighed but kept my hard exterior up, not willing to budge on this matter. I don’t know what I was expecting her to say, but it certainly wasn’t the words that came out of her mouth a second later.

“Why can’t you take my Bell’s books or fucking video game away? Why’s it always gotta be my stuff?” she yelled in my face before a sob tore through her throat. After taking a deep breath, she continued in a thick, shaky voice as tears continued to pour out of her eyes. “Why can’t you take away my Bell’s books and use the excuse of the possibility of her getting another goddamn paper cut so it’s ‘not safe‘. Or, hell…her DS game?! Shit, she could get carpel tunnel from playing it too motherfucking much,” she said then sniffled as another sob made it past her beautiful lips. “Why’s it always gotta be my stuff? My box, my bike,” she ranted before letting out another sob and crying for a minute before bringing her forearm up to her face and wiping the tears angrily off of her face. “It’s not fair!” she screamed at me.

I felt fucking horrible. I had taken away her only possessions…sure, the bike isn’t safe and not negotiable, but I didn’t have to destroy her tin box. I could have just taken the marijuana out of it. There wasn’t anything wrong with the tin box itself…it was just a stupid box, but it had obviously meant a lot to her.


I sighed.

I am an asshole.


I reached out and enveloped her sobbing form into my arms. Once her chest was tucked tightly into mine, her head laying on my shoulder as large sobs wracked her small body, I started to rub her back…just trying to comfort her through her emotional withdraw from the things that she had become attached to, that I had to take away.

“Shhh…” I whispered in her ear as her arms tightened around my neck.

“Not fair…” she mumbled through her cries.

I spoke quietly into her ear then. “I know, baby. I’m sorry and I know it isn’t very fair to you. But today I'm taking you out so you can pick out a brand new box. Whatever box you want, and it will just be your’s. Your box, and no one else’s, okay? Not Bella’s…not Isabella’s, but your’s. And you can put all of your special things in there to keep them special and private just for you,” I said, trying to placate her.

I kissed the skin on her shoulder before nuzzling my nose into her neck, observing from her emotions just how important this concept must be to her. To have her own things, independence, and privacy. Things that aren’t really possible, being what she is and all…


“Does that sound good, sweetheart? You want a new box?” I asked, keeping my tone light and persuading.


“I want my stuff back…” she whimpered before the tears started all over again.

I hooked my hands underneath her arms then, and picked her up. She kept her thin arms wrapped around my neck and she wrapped her legs around my waist, clinging to me as I put one arm under her so that she was seated on it, and I could support her slight weight.

I began pacing the room and Marie continued to cry into my neck and shoulder. I would have never taken her for a cryer, but my Bella’s words were coming back to me now. About how behind her tough exterior, she is just a broken and scared girl…and I had just broken her a little more by taking away the only things that she could call her own.

See, I knew I would mess this up somehow, but it’s not a huge mistake. I can learn from this, and once Marie has a few new possessions of her own after today, she should feel a lot better about this whole situation.

BPOV

I opened my eyes to the sight of Edward’s ear.

His ear…?

I yawned then, and realized that he was holding me like a child and pacing the floor of our bedroom. My head was laying on his shoulder because I had been asleep. I sighed and lifted my head to look into his eyes. He gave me a small smile, while turning his feet around and heading in the direction we had just come from.


How long had he been pacing with me in his arms like this?

“Edward…? Umm, how long have I been asleep?”

“Only about ten minutes, love,” he answered before placing me back down on my feet.

I nodded and asked hesitantly, “Do I wanna know what happened…?”

“I fucked up,” he said bluntly.

Yeah ya did... Marie said slyly.


I raised my eyebrows. “What did you do?”

He slipped his shirt over his head, taking it off, and started walking over to the closet while beginning his explanation. “Marie and Isabella have been switching it up on me all morning…okay, everything went pretty well with Isabella, except for some of her language issues, and then when Marie came back around, asking about her motorcycle, I told her that it was staying at Jake’s house because she wouldn’t be riding it anymore, so she went into this whole speech about how it was unfair that I always take things away from her and nobody else. Not you, or Isabella…and as ridiculous as her argument was about being treated unfairly, I understand why she’s upset that her possessions are gone, and then she starts this crying jag and I couldn’t get her to calm down, so I just held her and paced the floor until she finally just cried herself all out.”

I nodded. “It’ll be okay…” I assured him, because we could just buy Marie a few things for herself and she would cheer right up.


“I know,” he said, slipping another shirt over his head. “Isabella was asking for a lot of stuff that we don’t have, baby…and Marie wants her new box along with a few other things. I was thinking about just getting you guys a regular bicycle since she wants a bike so bad. And I still have to get your vitamins and protein shakes from that health food store. We should probably get going sweetheart, we’re making a trip to Port Angeles for all of this.”


I nodded. “Alright, just let me wash my face real quick. I can feel the dry tears on my cheeks and I hate that feeling…” I explained, walking over to the bathroom.

I slipped my wallet into my back pocket and once we were out in the garage, I realized that Jasper was letting us take his large SUV, since we didn’t actually know how many things we were getting. The girls started listing things off in my head and I told them to wait until we actually arrived at a store because I would just forget it before then.


When we were on the highway, I told Edward some of the thing we should be getting. I played with his fingers on the hand that I was holding while I spoke. “Okay Edward, I'm letting you know right now that both Marie and Isabella have oral fixations.”


“What do you mean?”


“Marie chews…it’s a nervous habit and she finds some relief in it. She’s got her gum, but then she also chews on her nails sometimes…pen caps, straws, her bottom lip,” I explained.


He nodded.


“Isabella sucks…she finds it extremely comforting and it can relax her. So she’s going to want freeze pops, lollipops, any kind of hard candy, really…juice boxes that come with straws and water bottles with a sports top on them, so that she can suck the water out of the bottle, as opposed to it just pouring into her mouth. When she doesn’t have these things, she’ll suck on her lips and her thumb,” I explained before asking, “Have you noticed any of those things this morning?”

“Her lips and thumb,” he answered quickly.

I nodded knowingly. “Also, as far as possessions go for them, they have very different, almost opposite interests. Interests that I don’t understand, but whatever…that’s probably because I don’t share them.”

“What types of things are they interested in, love? I want them to be comfortable, and I feel guilty knowing that I have nothing for Isabella back at the house,” he said.

“Marie likes sports and music. She loves to sing and has a lot of fun playing soccer and basketball, riding on the bike, and swimming. Isabella, on the other hand…she likes art and a lot of outside play as well as quiet, inside playtime. So I’m thinking that they both could use the bike and maybe a basketball setup…you know, with the hoop that you put up outside and just get a basketball to go with it. And a soccer ball to kick around outside. Um, Isabella is going to wants a lot of coloring and art supplies, drawing paper, coloring books, markers, crayons, colored pencils…maybe even some sidewalk chalk for when she’s outside on a nice day. Even some play-doh. Oh yeah, she also likes Disney movies and baby dolls just like every other little girl,” I informed him.


Bella, can we play on a jump-a-lene too? Isabella’s hopeful voice asked me.


Fuck Yeah! Marie’s excited voice yelled. Ask him Bell, ask him.


I sighed, not really sure about adding another thing to the list when we were already getting so much.


And a swing? Pretty please? Please? Isabella whispered.

Marie’s mantra continued on. Ask him, ask him, ask him, ask him, ask him, pleeeeassssssse ask him Bell, please! Ask him, ask him, ask him….


I smiled and gave in. “I’m hearing two other specific things, but I’m not sure we’re going to be able to fit them in here…” I hedged.

“What is it, love? Whatever it is, if it won’t fit then we could always have it delivered,” he said in a hurried voice, practically begging me to tell him everything about them and their needs.

“A tire swing to hang from a tree and they are both yelling at me right now to ask you for a freakin trampoline. I guess the bed this morning gave them both the same idea,” I said while remembering the memories Marie had shown me a little while ago.

I blushed at the thought of hopping around on the bed in only my panties and his shirt while singing into a damn hairbrush.

He chuckled. “Yes…they both had a lot of fun jumping on the bed this morning,” he remarked before saying, “All of that stuff sounds fine, baby. I’m pretty sure we can fit it all in here…but that tire swing might have to be delivered,” he reasoned while taking a glance into the back of the SUV where we would be putting everything.


“That’s fine,” I assured him before he brought up the subject of Isabella’s language.

“Baby, it was just so fucking bizarre, and it came out of nowhere. She didn’t know that she had done anything wrong either, and I had to explained to her that those terms were bad. I’m pretty sure she understands now, though…she seemed genuinely sorry, even though she didn’t know it was wrong in the first place,” he told me.

“Yeah, um….about that,” I hedged.

“Yes?”

“I was pretty much brainwashed by Jim in the 2 ½ years that he had control of me. By the time he was done with me, racial slurs and profanity were things that slipped out of my mouth easily and I had it in my head that I was just this…this evil half-breed thing completely incapable of even a mother’s love, and that his torture of me was for my, um…benefit. To you know, ‘rid me of evil’ or whatever, so that I could make myself worthy of my mother and God,” I said angrily. “It’s all apart of his delusional bullshit, and I realize now how fucking crazy it all is, but…Isabella doesn’t. And that is the problem. She’s still in that frame of mind,” I informed him.


He nodded sadly, but I wasn’t sad, I was detached and explaining it for his benefit alone.

“So, I’m sorry Edward,” I said with a smile, “but…I don’t know how to help you and Carlisle change her view on that whole thing. I guess that’s what therapy is for, huh?”


“Yes, it is,” he said softly as he put the car’s blinker on, ready to get off the highway now.


I turned on the radio and went over in my head all the places we were supposed to go, knowing that our first stop would be La Bella Italia for lunch.


Mmm-mmm, manicotti I thought with a smile as we pulled into the parking lot of our restaraunt.