(Thomas POV)
Walking into the kitchen looking for food left me shaking my head. Being shut in with Edythe these last four days left the fridge nearly empty. Grabbing the egg carton, I was happy to see there were still four left, so I grabbed the butter and placed them on the counter and continued to look for something more to add to my midday meal.
Remembering a ham steak in the freezer, I pulled it out and turned the sink water on to get enough water to soak the ham in to thaw it out quickly. After just seconds of water running, the nozzle started to spit air.
Crap. I forgot.
We had to turn the water main off because of the accident in the bathroom.
The memory hit me…Edythe and I in the tub, laughter turning into something less innocent, and then everything going wrong at once. In the middle of our fun, we broke the tub and pulled the piping out of the wall. The sudden spray of water made me jump up, and I caught the sink wrong—yanked it away from the wall like it weighed nothing, sending even more water everywhere.
Edythe ran to the basement and shut the water main off, and we laughed about it like we hadn't just declared war on the plumbing.
Her laughing had been its own kind of dangerous.
I exhaled, trying not to think about how quickly "fixing the bathroom" had stopped being the priority, and returning to our new favorite pass time took over.
"Well, guess I'm going into town for food," I sighed as I decided to put the eggs and butter away, leaving the ham steak out to thaw for dinner.
I walked upstairs to get dressed in street clothes and smiled in pride as I walked past the now broken bed. The legs must have folded because it looked like the frame was on the floor. The mattress looked like it had gone through a dull woodchipper, and most of the center support slats were obviously broken.
"Guess we'll need a whole new bed."
Still smiling, I pulled on some clean clothes, found my wallet and truck keys, then went back downstairs. Walking into the living room, I noticed four metal poles protruding from the ceiling. The way they framed the ceiling fan left me wondering for a second until I realized I was actually looking at the legs of my bed. They'd been shoved through the floor of my bedroom all the way through the living room ceiling.
"Cool."
Walking toward my truck I had an idea and pulled out my cell phone dialing Bella.
"Hey, sis."
"Hey yourself. How is married life treating you?" Her tone made it seem like she was surprised to hear from me.
I laughed. "It has been… beyond words, Bells. The only reason I could bear to let her go is because I could see she was starting to hurt with how hungry she was." I paused, glancing back at the house. "Speaking of which, you got room for one more at the dinner table?"
"There is always room for you, Thomas. Well, as long as you give me enough notice to make extra, anyway."
"Thanks, sis. I'll be there in a few hours. I'm headed into town for lunch, and I'll probably wander a bit. Love you."
"Yeah, see you when you get here."
When she hung up, I put my phone away and ran back inside to put that ham steak in the fridge, so it didn't go bad. Then I went back out to the truck and started it up to drive into town.
My mood was very upbeat, so I hit play on the burned CD Edythe had loaded into the stereo. The guitar riff from Dire Straights' Money for Nothing demanded the window go down and the volume go up.
The town seemed more vibrant than usual, it was still grey and dingy with wet roads, but for some reason it just looked better to me. The rubber ring on my left hand probably had something to do with it, well that and the small aches and pains in places and muscles that had been overused the last few days.
Deciding to take care of my hunger first, that called for the best (only) place not fast food in town, The Lodge.
Pulling into the parking lot, I rolled up my window and cut off the whiny voice of Axl Rose singing about sweet children and hopped out of my truck.
Pushing the door open, I gave a smile and a wave to Amber behind the counter and headed for an open booth to sit down. However, I crossed paths with a figure I barely recognized. Lauren Mallory, a VERY pregnant Lauren Mallory was trying to get up from a booth. I heard her talking just before she noticed me.
"I am really sorry Jessica, but I need to go again. My little one must be kicking my bladder like a football."
Seeing her struggle I reached out a helping hand, "Could you use some leverage, Lauren?"
She froze like my voice had turned the air solid.
Then her head snapped up.
For half a second her face was blank, then recognition hit, and it shifted into something sharper.
"Oh," she said, breathy and disbelieving. "It's you."
The last time we had spoken was when she tearfully asked for a way to get ahold of Johnny. The rumors and now seeing her condition, even someone as clueless as me figured it out.
Jessica, who was just about to reassure Lauren she would wait for her to come back from the bathroom squeaked as her jaw locked in place. Her eyes were wide and shifting between me and Lauren.
Lauren didn't look at her. Her gaze stayed on me, quick, scanning, taking inventory. The ring on my left hand. The smile on my face. The fact that I'd offered help instead of pretending I didn't see her like most of her old school mates.
I kept my hand out. Not pushy. Not retreating.
Lauren's pride fought her body for a full beat.
Then her fingers latched onto my forearm.
"Leverage," she muttered, like the word annoyed her.
I braced my stance and gave her exactly what she needed, steady, not yanking, not treating her like she was fragile glass. She used my arm like a rail, pushed herself up, and when she was standing, she exhaled hard through her nose like she'd just won a small war.
"Thank you," she said, and it came out stiff. Like she hated that she meant it.
"No problem," I said. "You okay?"
Lauren put a hand on her stomach automatically, palm spread over the curve. "Define okay."
I took a step back and looked at her, and the words just fell out of my mouth. "You look… good," I said, and immediately regretted how thin it sounded. "I mean, you look healthy. Like you've got… I don't know, a glow."
Lauren blinked at me like she wasn't sure whether to be offended or to laugh.
Jessica made a strangled noise that might've been a cough.
"A glow," Lauren repeated flatly.
"Yeah," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "I'm not great at… compliments. But you don't look sick or miserable, and considering Forks is basically permanent depression with trees, that feels like a miracle."
For a second her mouth fought it.
Then the corner of it twitched…almost a smile, almost permission.
"Well," she said, shifting her weight like her spine had filed a complaint. "I am miserable. I'm just… also pregnant."
"Fair," I said, and nodded toward the hallway. "You were trying to make it to the bathroom. Want me to walk you there, or do you want me to pretend I never existed?"
Lauren's eyes narrowed. "You're weird now."
"I've always been weird," I said. "You just didn't notice."
That got a real exhale out of her, half laugh, half surrender.
She took my forearm again. "Fine. Walk with me. But don't make a big deal out of it. I am pregnant, not ninety"
Jessica's eyes were still wide. "Lauren, I said I'd…"
"Jessica," Lauren cut in, not unkind, just done. "I'm not dying. I'm peeing."
Jessica's face turned the color of a stop sign.
I kept my expression neutral and started toward the hallway at an easy pace, matching her steps.
When we were far enough from the booth that the whole place couldn't hear us, Lauren's voice dropped.
"So," she said. "You got married."
My thumb brushed the ring without thinking. "Yeah."
"Edythe Cullen?"
"Edythe Raizel" I corrected automatically.
Lauren's gaze flicked down to it again, then back up. "Small wedding."
"Small town," I said. "Rumors travel faster than logging trucks."
She huffed. "People are saying it was… exclusive."
"It was family," I said simply. "And people we trust."
That made her eyes sharpen, like trust was a word she'd never liked.
We reached the bathroom door. Lauren paused, hand hovering over the handle.
Then she looked at me, and her voice changed…less sharp, more careful.
"Do you… know?" she asked.
I didn't pretend I didn't understand.
"Yeah," I said quietly. "I know, Johnny is the father, right."
Her jaw worked once. Pride and hurt wrestling in plain sight.
Lauren swallowed. "I didn't plan this," she said, and the words came out like she hated that she had to say them at all. "It wasn't… like that."
I nodded once. "Okay."
Her eyes snapped to mine, suspicious. "That's it? Just…okay?"
"Lauren," I said, keeping my voice steady, "you're standing here with a whole human inside you, looking like you might bite my head off if I breathe wrong. I'm not here to judge you." I paused. "I just… hope you're safe. And taken care of."
Something in her face cracked, fast and then it was gone.
She looked away. "I'm fine."
It was the same lie people always used when they didn't want help.
I didn't call it out.
She let out a half sob and then took another steadying breath. "Surprisingly, Forks has some very good options for single mothers. Your new mother-in-law is to thank for that, I believe." Her mouth tightened, like the words tasted strange coming out of her. "To hear the others talk, she's nearly single-handedly supported the single-mother programs and the women's shelter for half the county."
That landed on my chest, heavy and warm in the same breath.
"Yeah, Esme had a very rough time before she met Carlisle. She tries to do everything she can for those going through rough patches.
Lauren nodded once, fast. "Yeah. Esme." She looked away, blinking hard like she was mad at her own eyes. "I didn't even know she… did that stuff until I needed it. And then suddenly it was like,,," She made a small, helpless gesture with her free hand. "There were numbers. Names. A caseworker. A place I could go without having to explain why my hands were shaking."
My jaw clenched. I kept my voice even. "That's good."
"It is," she agreed, and the second word cracked. She pressed her fingers into the side of her belly like it anchored her. "It's just… embarrassing. Being the cautionary tale."
"You're not a cautionary tale," I said before I could stop myself.
Lauren's eyes snapped back to mine, sharp again, defensive by reflex. "You don't get to decide that."
Fair.
I exhaled through my nose. "No. I don't. But I can decide you're still a person." I paused, because if I pushed too hard she'd bolt. "And you're doing what you have to do. That counts."
For a second, she just stared at me, like she was trying to find the angle. The pity. The judgment. The punchline.
When she didn't find it, her shoulders sagged a fraction.
"I hate that I'm relieved," she muttered. "Like I should be stronger than this."
"Being relieved you're not alone isn't weakness," I said. "It's your brain finally taking a breath."
Lauren swallowed. Her voice dropped. "People keep asking if he's going to come back."
I sighed, "Have you been able to get ahold of him?"
She looked like she wanted to cry, as she shook her head. "Nothing, it's like he dropped off the face of the earth."
Her leg shifted and her face colored. "I really have to go. Would you join us at our table?"
I nodded my head, "Sure, I will go order and meet you there."
She barely had time to thank me before she rushed into the bathroom. Well as much as anyone in her condition was able to rush.