Hidden

Saturday came and went, and Sunday roared into my life when my alarm blared at eight in the morning. I had forgotten to turn it off from the previous day, and in doing so now I rolled out of bed to make myself something to eat. First, I stepped outside of my room and called for Charlie. No answer. He must have left before dawn again. I couldn't imagine how he had the motivation to get himself up like that whenever they needed him - but I guess that's the gig when you go around saving people.

Slipping into my robe, I took the stairs two steps at a time and went into the kitchen. I checked the fridge for sustenance: an empty egg carton, half a cup of milk, an old black banana, and ketchup. Delicious. I set the milk on the counter and opened all of the cupboards too. My grand total came to a cup of a miscellaneous cereal-granola mixture. I poured the medley into a bowl even though I was sure it wouldn't taste good, and topped it off with the rest of the milk after I checked to see that it hadn't gone sour.

Chewing on my less-than-crunchy breakfast, I flipped through a stack of mail that lay on the counter. It was all stuff for Charlie - bills, work, advertisements - but on the bottom of the stack was a large tan envelope with my name on it. I put my dish in the sink and tore it open at the seal, sliding out the contents and setting it on top of the envelope. It was from Douglas.

I walked back upstairs and set the stack of papers on my desk so I could get dressed. I had tried to contact Douglas every day since I had arrived here in Aberdeen, but he refused to reply via text or instant message. It was unlike him to be so quiet to me - he was a real chatterbox whenever he saw me in person. This mail was the first contact I'd had from him in weeks. Eager to read, I did up the button on my pants and sat down at my desk. I picked up the first page and read it to myself aloud:

"Dear Isabella,

I apologize for not contacting you, but it feels too normal to give you a call or a text. Nothing is normal anymore and I don't want to pretend that it is. This household is not the same without you.

Jimmy is starting to wonder. I told him you were snowed in and you should be home soon, but this seems futile. I'm only delaying his anguish. He's already stained your pajamas, too. He's still wearing them anyway because he wants you to see them when you come home so you know he likes them.

I've enclosed some more poetry that I found laying around. Feel free to use it if you find somewhere to publish my writing. All of the magazines contacted me. They accepted all of the submissions.

I hope you're doing well and staying warm. There's always room for you here, at home.

Love,
Douglas"

I put the letter to the side and looked through the rest of what he had sent to me. Most of it was poetry, which was his favourite thing to write, but there were a few short stories in there too. It was all very depressing and grim, and I couldn't bear to read it all right then. I knew he was trying to make me feel a bit bad for not staying with him, but I wasn't having any of it. It wasn't my fault. None of this was.

Douglas was very important to me, but I wasn't about to let him dictate my life. I knew he was an independent, resourceful person and he could care for himself and his little brother without my help. The kid was five years old now and he went to school every day, which took the burden off of him and his father for a while. They would be okay.
I didn't need the guilt, either.

Packing everything back into the envelope, I stored it underneath my bed with the other poetry he had given me. I knew I had to reply to him, so I wrote myself a note and stuck it to my computer. I would have to write the letter when I was feeling less spiteful, or else I'd just end up disappointed.

To get my mind off of the contrition I felt over my move, I brought my backpack downstairs to do some homework. The classes at my new high school felt easier than what I was used to, but I assumed it was only because I was ahead of what they were teaching. Hamlet was a breeze - I didn't even have to consult the text to answer all of the questions we were given. This story was one of the few required readings that grabbed my attention and dragged it through the plot all the way to the very last word. The concept of a family betrayal so unjust that the entire unit falls apart is dramatic in every sense, but what really got to me was how the characters reacted. Hamlet's deep, wallowing depression and crazed antics; Ophelia's broken heart and unfortunate death. It seemed real. Apart from the ghosts, of course. Ghosts aren't real.

My day passed with little other excitement. I finished rearranging my room, which had been transformed into a guest room after I stopped visiting in the summers. I pinned some photos that I had brought with me to the baby blue walls and moved my bed into the middle of the wall instead of crunched up against the window. Just like that, I felt more comfortable in the space. Who said Charlie's place couldn't be home? It was home to me when I was a kid, and it could be home again.

As I picked up some stray items off of the floor, my phone rang across the room. I went to my bed and dug it out from underneath my comforter to answer it:

"Hi mom, what's up?"

"Just checking in on you! How was your weekend? Did you hang out with any of your new friends? Are you warm enough there? Is everyone treating you well?"

"Yeah everything is going great. I saw Jacob on Friday and I got into a ballet studio so I'll be able to keep practicing. Nothing much else, but everyone I've met has been really nice and welcoming."

"I'm so glad you're well! Phil and I miss you."

"I miss you guys too, mom. Anything new happen since you last called?" She called me every day, sometimes twice.

"Yes!" That was surprising. "Phil got a job offer from a private minor league team as a coach."

"Wow, that's awesome mom! Things are really coming together."

"We're so excited! I'm throwing Phil a party tomorrow."

"That's great - I'm glad you two are getting along well out there. And it's good I moved out here when I did, then. Now you and Phil can follow his job and you don't have to worry about me."

"I always worry about you."

"I know you do, but everything's fantastic here. I'll come visit you in the spring. Got that?"

"Got it."

"Anything else?"

"Stay out of trouble for me, Bella. And if there is even the idea of a boy in your life, call me right away because you have to tell m-"

I cut her off, "I will, I will, I promise. I love you."

"I love you too. Bye sweetheart!"

I knew my mother would love Florida. She was just about addicted to the sun, and I knew she would enjoy herself with Phil wherever her life took her. I felt a bit more confident in myself after that phone call, as I set a few events in motion that would not have been able to happen had I not taken the initiative to bring myself to Washington. Although I wasn't sure that this opportunity would lead to complete success for Phil, my mom could use a little vacation from the dull desert.

I checked the time as I started to put my phone away, and was surprised to find that the day was all but behind me. My stomach growled - there was nothing left to eat in the house that wasn’t growing something. I searched through my contacts and called Charlie.

It was a while before he answered: “Hi Bells, how’s it going?”

“Doing just fine, dad. How much longer are you gonna be out?”

“Oh, well, I’m not exactly sure… I’m sort of tangled up in something right now. Fighting crime, you know.”

“I know, saving the world. Or at least the county. I was just wondering because it’s getting late and there’s no food in the house - should I go out and get something?”

“Damn you’re right, I was supposed to go to the store last week. I’m sorry about that, I could have left you some money.”

“It’s okay dad, I-”

“Tell you what; I’m down at the hospital right now interrogating some hooligans and whatever. You come here and I’ll find a way to have someone else do this dirty work, and we can go get a bite. How’s that?”

“Yeah that’s good, I’d like that.” I was glad he had opted to buy food instead of cooking it - he wasn’t a gifted chef. “You’re okay with me driving your car? How’d you even get to work?”

“I got a ride with my squad partner, thought you might want to go somewhere later. I trust you Bells, you can drive that old thing. I gotta finish this up now kid, I’ll see you soon.”

I put my phone in my pocket after he had hung up and looked out my window. The sun was setting, warm and pink, dampened by the grey clouds. I put some shoes on and grabbed my wallet, then headed downstairs to the garage.

The rusty garage door creaked as I pressed the button to open it. I plucked Charlie's key off of its hook on the wall beside me and unlocked his car. It was an old Nissan altima - a real trooper - that hadn't been cleaned since somewhere around last summer. Regardless, I climbed in and started it up, driving out of the neighbourhood. Aberdeen was a compact city, and Charlie's place was about an equal distance from the hospital, police station, and high school. It was a quaint little suburb, situated in a patch of forest, that stayed quiet during the majority of the day.

Without thinking, I slipped my hands off of the steering wheel and lay them by my side. My knees jammed up against the wheel and held the car steady as I drove on the wet road in the dimming light. I remembered Jacob so effortlessly maneuvering his truck, and I tried to do the same with my dad's old car. I didn't find it very difficult, and started to accelerate more and more until I was way above the speed limit. Frosty trees blurred outside my window. The sky grew dark with the setting sun.

An animal darted out of the trees in front of my windshield, a streak of white in the dusk. My knees wobbled and I lost control of the vehicle. I slammed on the breaks, hands grasping the wheel again, and screeched to a stop sideways across the road. I watched the deer disappeared into the evergreens on the other side of the road, my heart beating so fast that I became dizzy. I needed to be more careful. Little splatters of scarlet blood marked where the animal had crossed, but I doubted that I had hit the poor thing. I half expected a mountain lion to come chasing after it's dinner as I reversed and then continued into town.

The moon was out as I pulled into the hospital parking lot. I locked Charlie's car and headed into the ER to look for him. The waiting room was less busy than I expected it to be, and I was happy to not come across anyone puking or bleeding in front of me as I walked over to the nurse stationed at reception.

"Hello, what can we help you with today?" he asked me, looking up from some paperwork.

"I'm just here to see my father."

He gave me a sympathetic frown, "I'm sorry, visiting hours are over for the day. They start again tomorrow at noon."

"No no, I mean, my dad's a cop. He said he was here talking to a patient...?" I stood on my toes to try to peek into the back room.

"Wait, are you telling me you're Chief Swan's daughter?" He put down his pen to regard me with his full attention.

I stood flat on my feet again. "Yes, I'm Bella Swan. Did he tell you I was coming?"

"He sure did. Chief Swan's been in here almost every day for ten years and he's never introduced us to his daughter - we're very excited to meet you." The nurse grinned and I smiled back, flattered. I knew Charlie was a good cop, but I didn't realize how fond the staff was of him. "Right now he's working on a hit and run case," the nurse continued, "but we'll get you back there to see him anyway." He stood up and exited the small, enclosed room, and another nurse took his spot. Then, he held the door open to the rest of the hospital and motioned for me to come in.

I entered the large, white-tiled room and scanned the area. Patients lay in sick bays with IVs attached to their arms, and nurses hurried to and from their desks carrying medical equipment of all sorts. Doctors stood with clipboards and stethoscopes, examining their patients with careful precision, and my eyes finally caught the black and blue outfits of the police squadron in one of the back corners.

The nurse led me to them and the crew of crime-fighters watched me come over. "This is Chief Swan's daughter," he told them, as if I was a celebrity. They all gave me their hellos and introduced themselves and I, overwhelmed, tried to remember everyone's name as they told them to me.

One of the women turned to me, "Your dad's in the third trauma room down the hall. We'll finish up here for him if you two want to go on home."

Nodding, I thanked her, and then the nurse ushered me out of the crowd and to the trauma room. Before leaving me, he said, "If you need anything else, ask for Robin." His name, of course. "But I hope we won't be admitting you any time soon. Bye now, hun!" He left me in the hall to return to his station.

I opened the door and looked inside the room, unsure of how traumatic a trauma room might be. To the relief of my stomach, the patient that Charlie was speaking with had already been patched up and lying in his cot devoid of blood. He looked at me when I entered, and my dad spun around to see who was there. When he realized who it was, he put down his clipboard and smiled at me.

"Hey kiddo, come on over here."

I moved next to Charlie, but felt uncomfortable about interrupting him.

"This is Mr. Berkov. Guy got hit by some idiot on the road and we're trying to track him down." The patient waved at me weakly and I motioned to him to stay still.

Glancing over at my father's clipboard, I said, "Are you sure you're ready to go?"

He nodded, "All I have left to do is get the guy's history from the doc. Should be easy as hell, don't worry." Charlie got up, taking his clipboard with him. "I'll be back in a second; meet my pride and joy Bella," he told the patient, patting me on the shoulder on his way out.

Mr. Berkov stared past me without saying anything and I looked at my feet. Must have been some accident. I was about to say something when I heard the door open again behind me and swiveled to leave with my father.

Standing in the doorway instead of Charlie was a handsome doctor. At least I assumed he was a doctor due to his attire, but he almost looked too young and full of life to be in such a demanding profession. He strode into the room, white labcoat flapping behind him, and pulled a pen out of his pocket. I was a few inches shorter than him and I watched as his icy blue eyes scanned his patient's charts. After a moment, he lowered the folder and smiled first at the patient, then at me. A warm, radiant energy filled the room and my anxiety eased.

"It's been quite a night, hasn't it Mr. Berkov?" he said with an air of suave confidence. "Good news, your scans from radiology are back and all of your injuries are treatable." He slid x-rays from a huge envelope and put them up on the viewbox for his patient to see. "There's an oblique fracture on your tibia, right here, and you have a couple of broken ribs," he pointed to the scans, then turned back to us, "But your lungs are in perfect condition and you don't have a concussion. We will be keeping you for a few nights upstairs in the ICU to monitor you, but you're going to make a full recovery very soon."

The doctor placed the medical records back at the foot of his patient's bed and finally turned to me. He peeled his gloves off and held a hand out in front of him, "Who may I have the pleasure of meeting here tonight?"

I took his hand and shook it, almost shivering from his touch. I hoped he didn't touch patients with hands that cold. "Isabella Swan."

"The Chief's daughter, that's right. Apologies, I should have known it was you. I'm Dr. Cullen, head of the ER." His teeth shone a brilliant white as he grinned at me. It was becoming unnerving.

"Oh I've heard some great things about you, actually," I said, blinking.

"Really?"

"You helped my friend's father, Billy Black?"

He chuckled. Really, the doctor chuckled. "What an amazing family. I'm glad to do anything I can to help them."

"They definitely appreciate it." Turning over some information in my head, I added, "Do you have a son?"

Dr. Cullen nodded and, seeing as the patient was asleep, escorted me back into the hallway to finish our conversation. "I have two. Are they causing trouble?" His blond brows furrowed as he watched my expression.

Pursing my lips, I said, "No, I don't think so, it's just that I think one of them is in my class. Edward?"

His composure returned to its relaxed state, "Yes, Edward. Wonderful boy. Has he treated you well?"

"He's been great, I'm just trying to make some friends to help me settle in and its, you know, its good that my dad knows you guys so I have a head start. But um, is he sick? I don't think I saw him on Friday," I asked cautiously.

There was a pause before he said, "He may have been a bit under the weather; I can't be sure because I work the night shifts. Its unfortunate, but it has to be done..." Dr. Cullen suddenly perked up and motioned for someone to come over. "Chief Swan! I've met your daughter and she's marvelous- how proud you must be."

My dad was at my side, arm around my shoulders, "You got that one right, doc. How are your boys?"

"They've been great, doing amazing in school beyond my wildest dreams. I-" His pocket buzzed and he glanced at his pager. "I'm so sorry, I have to take this - trauma again. So glad to have met you, Isabella!" Dr. Cullen called behind him as he ran off down the hallway.

I watched his coattails billow behind him until he was out of sight, wishing that I had introduced myself as Bella. For someone I expected to be stuck up and conceited, Dr. Cullen had turned out to be the most amiable, confident person I’d ever met. This only made me more convinced that the Cullens had something to keep from the public.

Then, Charlie patted my shoulder once more and asked:

"So where are we goin for dinner?"