Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Several people asked how Edward called Bella back in the last chapter. No, they didn't have Caller I.D… but since the operator connected the call via switchboard, it technically was still connected, even though Bella had hung up. All Edward had to do was click the hook to summon the operator… and then have the operator re-ring the boarding house. Hope that helps!

As always, thanks to Aecarlso and Tiffanyanne3 for their super-beta skills!

Without further ado… I give you Shovelward…

"Opposites can attract, as in magnetism. Or explode, as in matter and antimatter."

- Peter David

Chapter 6 – Of Sunday Picnics and Shattered Expectations

"I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

His words cut through me, leaving a gaping wound, and I struggled to center myself in the midst of my inner turmoil.

Good God. I had approached him… touched him. Swept up in the pleasure of seeing him again, I forgot for a moment that he had absolutely no idea who I was.

He probably thought I was a lunatic.

I stumbled for words to explain my odd behavior but was interrupted by a woman's voice coming from inside the house.

"Edward?" she called out, her voice followed by her appearance at the open door. I knew immediately that she was Edward's mother. Their hair was the same vivid shade, as were their eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, advancing toward us. "I didn't know you had company."

Edward answered her questioning glance with a shrug.

"This is my mother, Elizabeth Masen," he said. "And this is…" he motioned to me.

"Bella," I said, finally finding my voice. "Bella Swan. It's nice to meet you Mrs. Masen."

"Nice to meet you, Bella." She smiled, turning to Edward. "Don't forget you have to be at the Swensons' in half an hour."

"I know." He took off his gloves, gesturing toward the shovel stuck in the garden dirt. "I couldn't get the stump out. I'll have to try again later."

I shifted nervously on my feet as they spoke, feeling like an intruder and unsure of what to do. Finally I decided the best tactic was to retreat and regroup.

"I should probably be going anyway," I said, drawing two sets of green eyes to me. "I just stopped to… ask for directions… to the 'L'?"

Edward's eyes narrowed slightly. He knew I was lying and I waited for him to expose me.

He didn't get a chance.

"Oh, Edward's going that way, dear. I'm sure he'll be glad to accompany you," Mrs. Masen said, as she gently touched my arm.

"Oh, really, that's not necessary," I hedged. Now that I was here and had made a complete fool of myself, I wasn't sure what I'd say to him if we were alone.

"Oh, it's no trouble, is it Edward?" She smiled at her son expectantly.

He smiled back, and I have to say it looked a little forced.

"No trouble at all. Just let me go get cleaned up."

Edward walked into the house and Mrs. Masen turned to me.

"Come sit on the porch, Bella. Would you like some lemonade?" I hadn't noticed the tray and pitcher she'd brought out and set on a small table.

"Umm… sure… yes, please," I stammered out.

She poured me a frosty glass and I thanked her quietly, sipping the tart drink and wishing a hole would open in the ground and swallow me up.

What was I thinking? Coming here without a plan?

"So, how do you know Edward?" she asked.

I swallowed. "I don't, actually. I just was walking by and stopped for directions."

She eyed me carefully. I knew if she hadn't actually seen me touch him, she had to have seen the way I was gazing at him like a lovesick schoolgirl.

Still, she was too polite to call me on it.

"Where are you headed," she asked, "on the 'L'?"

"I'm staying at a boarding house downtown," I replied, relieved to finally be able to say something truthful.

"Oh? So you don't live with your family?"

"I don't have any family," I said, thinking it would be better not to elaborate.

"I'm sorry," she offered sadly.

"Thank you," I answered, unsure of what else I could say.

"So what brings you to our part of town?"

I hesitated, searching for a believable lie.

"I'm just trying to get to know the city," I said finally. "I heard Lincoln Park was quite beautiful, so I came to see it. I got to walking around and lost my way."

She absorbed that silently, taking a sip of her lemonade.

"Are you out of school, then?" I could see concern start to color her features.

Great, now she thinks I'm a pedophile… an older woman here to prey on her sixteen-year-old son.

Christ. Technically, I was a pedophile.

"Yes, just recently," I told her, shaking myself free from my thoughts. "I'm working at Cook County Hospital as a nurse's assistant. Actually, I'm assisting one of the doctors now with his medical research."

"How interesting… what kind of research?"

"He's studying influenza."

She nodded, but was cut short from asking another question when Edward walked through the door.

Water glistened along his hairline, so I could tell that he'd washed his face. He'd also combed back the loose locks that had fallen forward while he worked. His tie was straight and he'd put his jacket back on.

He was glorious. It took all the self-restraint I had left not to dissolve into a puddle of goo at his feet.

"Ready, Miss Swan?" He turned to me, extending his open hand toward the front gate.

"It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Masen," I said quietly before walking down the porch steps.

"Goodbye Bella."

Edward opened the gate and I walked through, turning back to see his mother watching us with a speculative look on her face.

"Something wrong?" Edward asked.

"No, nothing… sorry."

We walked in silence while I struggled for a way to break the ice. It wasn't far to the "L" and I knew I was running out of time.

"Look, Edward… I'm sorry about before. I shouldn't have touched you like that," I said finally, embarrassed.

I expected him to shrug off my apology, but instead he asked, "Why did you?"

I bit my lip, uncertain of what to say.

"I… thought you were someone else."

Yeah, that's believable. Geez Bella!

He looked at me curiously - obviously knowing I was lying - but then his face broke out in a surprising grin.

"Lucky guy."

He was flirting with me. Flirting was good.

I grinned back at him, blushing a little, but he didn't say anything else about it.

"So, did I hear you tell my mother you work at a hospital?" he asked instead.

"Yes, I'm working with a doctor there, helping him with his research."

"That must be interesting work. Do you work with patients as well?"

"Sometimes." I nodded.

"Hm," he said thoughtfully.

"What?"

"Well, I would just imagine a hospital provides a lot of opportunities for a young woman."

I nodded. "I suppose so, but you really need specialized education to move up."

He laughed. "Education? No, you misunderstood me."

"What did you mean?" I asked, confused.

"Well, it's just that I'm sure you meet a lot of eligible men."

"Eligible?" I repeated, not believing what I was hearing. "Are you suggesting… that I'm working there to snag a husband?"

"I'm not criticizing," he said quickly. "It's important for a young lady to find an appropriate man… and it's not always easy for a girl in your situation."

"What do you mean, 'in my situation'?"

Okay, this guy was seriously starting to piss me off.

"You know, no family… no real financial attributes," he explained.

"Were you eavesdropping on my conversation with your mother?" I asked through gritted teeth.

To his credit, he reddened a little.

"I just overheard a bit," he admitted, then he saw my angry expression and stopped in his tracks.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you," he said, apparently confused at my reaction. "It's only natural for a woman in your position to look for a husband – and I was just saying you've chosen a good place to do it."

You've got to be kidding me.

"You make it sound like I'm a predator on the hunt!" I exclaimed.

He shrugged. "I'm sure it must feel like that sometimes," he said sympathetically. "And I know many men would look unfavorably upon your circumstances, so that's got to make it even more difficult. But don't worry, I'm sure in time you'll snare a husband."

I turned to him, my hands on my hips. "Snare… snare…?" I repeated. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

It didn't really work.

"Look buddy," I began in a low voice, and his eyes widened. "I work at the hospital because I needed a job and I wanted to do something I enjoy. I support myself. I pay my own bills and I don't need a man to do it."

"I don't understand what you're so upset about," he said, mystified. "I'm just trying to be sympathetic of your predicament."

"Are you for real…? Sympathetic…?" I sputtered. "I don't even know what to say to that!" I paced back and forth, muttering under my breath. "Predicament?" I questioned. "Predicament?" I repeated, my voice growing louder.

"I am not in a 'predicament', Edward," I spat. "I don't know where you get these outdated ideas about women in the workplace, but they're ridiculous! I'm not looking for a husband at the hospital. I'm not looking for a husband, period!"

Reveling in his shocked expression, I turned on my heel and stomped to the "L", buying my ticket quickly and climbing the steps to the platform. I tapped my foot impatiently on the wooden floor, still fuming over Edward's comments.

What happened to him?

The Edward I knew was possessive, sure, and overprotective. But he wasn't a chauvinist pig! He was kind and loving and supportive. He wanted me to go to college… begged me to do it.

This Edward thought I should be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen… once I'd hooked an appropriate husband, that is.

When the train arrived I collapsed in my seat, my anger finally giving way to desperation.

What had I done?

I had finally found Edward, and went from all but mauling him, to yelling at him in the middle of the street. Then the question I'd been ignoring for the past fifteen minutes finally reared its ugly head.

How could I save him… if I couldn't even stand him?

x-x

"Come on, Bella. It will be fun!"

I rolled my eyes. The last time someone said that to me I ended up tripping on hallucinogenic mushrooms and going back in time.

I smiled at my own thoughts, and Liza Johannes took that as a sign that I was giving in.

"You have to come, Bella," she pleaded. "It's the social event of the season."

Christ. People really did say that?

I was depressed after the snafu of my first Edward encounter. I had ridden the "L" home and went straight to my room, unable to face Maggie's questioning glances. I didn't even go down for dinner. I just lay in my bed all night, tossing and turning, reliving each torturous moment.

I still had no idea what to do next.

Everyone in the house – well, except Alistair – had been talking all morning about the Welcome Spring Celebration at the "shore", which I'd come to learn meant Lake Michigan. I'd argued that it wasn't even technically spring yet, but Liza had informed me that it was always the third Sunday in March. Still didn't make much sense to me, but whatever.

"There will be music and dancing," Liza cajoled.

Tom finally joined in. "Uh, maybe the dancing's not for Bella."

I stuck my tongue out at him and he laughed.

"The food's good, though," he added. "And there are games and prizes."

Well, that sounded more interesting.

Liza jumped in. "It's a beautiful day, Bella. Come and enjoy it with us."

That did it for me. Living in Forks, the one thing I'd learned was to treat a sunny day with the reverence it deserved.

So I'd agreed, and an hour later we were on the "L", headed once again for Lincoln Park. Jared and Liza sat across from Maggie and me, holding hands and exchanging secretive smiles. Tom stood to my left, holding the handrail and reading a newspaper.

In my time he'd be one of those guys you couldn't tear away from his Blackberry.

To be honest, I was a little nervous when we got to the "L" and I found out we were headed to the park so close to Edward's house. A part of me hoped - and another part dreaded - the possibility that I might see him again.

I had thought about it all morning, and decided that I had overreacted. I mean, sure he'd seemed a little chauvinistic, but that was a sign of the times, right? It was 1918 after all, and I couldn't expect him to have twenty-first century ideals when we were barely out of the nineteenth.

I vowed to be more patient with Edward when I saw him again. I just had to figure out how I could see him again.

Showing up at his house was out of the question. That hadn't gone so well the first time. I pondered the idea of enrolling in his school, but thought he'd see through that since I had already told him about my job.

So the only option was… well… stalking him.

I'd have to follow him discreetly and see where he went and what he did with his time. Sure, it was a little creepy, but I didn't really see an alternative.

I'd have to be very careful, and when I found a place where I could run into him 'accidentally', I'd have to play it really cool.

I could play it cool.

I hoped.

The "L" screeched to a halt and our group clambered down the steps from the platform. Tom cracked a joke and we all laughed as we boarded the streetcar bound for the park.

"I've got one," Jared boomed. "You'll like this one Bella, since you work in a hospital."

I smiled at him. I was really getting to like Jared. He was big and came off as the strong, silent type until you got to know him. But I was coming to learn he had a quick smile and a great sense of humor. In a lot of ways he reminded me of Emmett. My face fell a little at the thought, but then I turned my attention back to him and his joke.

"Little Mary had always wanted a kitten," he began, a smile quirking at his lips. "She fell ill and the doctors found that she needed an operation."

"I've heard this one," Tom whispered to me, but I hushed him.

Jared shot him a narrowed glance and continued.

"So, little Mary had to go to the hospital and her mother promised that if she would be very brave during this time of trial she should have the very finest kitten to be found.

"Well, she had the operation, and as Mary was coming out from the influence of the anesthesia the nurse heard her muttering, and stooped down to hear these words…"

He paused dramatically and to my surprise, Jared, Liza, Tom, and even Maggie all said simultaneously, "It's a bum way to get a cat!" then erupted in laughter.

"You've all heard it?" Jared asked, looking around the group.

"That's an old one," Maggie giggled.

"New to me," I admitted.

The streetcar slowed and we all jumped off. Jared helped Liza and Maggie, and Tom extended a hand out to me. We walked into the park, grinning and laughing under blue skies and sunshine.

The park itself had been transformed. Billowy tents dotted the grass, covering tables of food and drinks. A race course of some kind had been laid out on the north end of the green, and balloons and streamers floated everywhere. Above our heads a large banner hanging between two trees read "Welcome Spring!" in bright colors.

A wooden platform had been constructed near a gazebo to the south and I could see some men tuning up their instruments. I assumed the platform was a makeshift dance floor. Everywhere I looked, people had spread out blankets and were sitting, enjoying the warm weather. Children laughed and screamed, running through the park playing tag or hide and seek.

Although it was sunny, it still wasn't warm enough for swimming. Still, I spotted a few row boats bobbing on the lake, with young men drawing back the oars and young women in frothy dresses holding parasols to protect them from the bright sunshine.

It was like a painting I'd seen once at the Seattle Art Museum by Georges Seurat. I remembered thinking that it really captured a simpler time with its bright colors and shapes created by dots of paint on canvas. The time period was off a little, I think… but the colors, the warmth, the… freedom, was the same.

Liza apparently caught me gaping because she turned to me with a smile.

"Aren't you glad you came?"

"Actually, yes," I admitted. "It's really something."

The afternoon was relaxing and fun. We spread out a blanket and ate fried chicken and biscuits… and big bowls of the most incredible homemade ice cream. I'm pretty sure the fat content of that stuff was off the charts… but it was so worth it.

Jared and Liza danced. Tom asked me, but I begged off so he took a twirl with Maggie. They spun and whirled to a waltz, and I had to admit they were pretty good. The song drew to a close and Tom spun Maggie twice before dipping her effortlessly with a grin. The dancers applauded the band and I saw a young man in a dark suit approach the microphone.

"Attention everyone," he announced. "The games will be starting in ten minutes!"

People stood and started to make their way to the side of the green where I'd seen the course laid out earlier. Tom and Maggie approached me, with Jared and Liza close behind. We folded our blanket and walked over to the race course.

"What kind of games are they going to be playing?" I asked.

"Oh, there's a pie-eating contest, arm wrestling…" Tom began.

"Those are both my events, of course," Jared grinned.

"Of course," Tom acquiesced. "Eating and showing off are Jared's strong suits."

Jared punched him in the shoulder and Tom rubbed it ruefully.

Liza finally interrupted, linking her arm with mine as we walked.

"There are also some races… the three-legged race, wheelbarrow race… the sack race," she said.

Wait a second… the sack race?

"You mean like a potato sack race?" I asked, my mouth curving slightly.

"Yes," Liza nodded. "Why? Would you like to try it?"

I smirked at the question. Hell yeah, I'd like to try it.

It was a strange thing. I was, in a word, uncoordinated. I couldn't dance. Running was questionable. And jumping rope was an ER trip waiting to happen. (Trust me. Been there. Done that.)

But at a young age I discovered that even though simply walking down the street could cause me to trip over my own feet, when they were bound inside that burlap sack… I was unstoppable.

It was like the coordination gods looked down and said, "She can't do anything else, but the sack race… okay, we'll give her that."

So since I was five, I would enter only one event at every police department picnic, school field day, and church fundraising carnival: the sack race.

And I would kick ass. Every time.

Now, I know it's weird to get so worked up about a children's game, but when it's the only physical activity that you actually excel at, you tend to get a little excited.

Okay, a lot excited.

The fact was: I liked to win. I loved to win. Deep down I was a competitive, cutthroat, bloodthirsty, sack-racing machine.

I think that's why the coordination gods cut me off when it came to any other sports.

Because if I could play hockey, I'd seriously kill someone.

"Bella?" Liza waved her hand in front of me. "I asked if you'd like to try it."

A slow smile lit my face and I replied, "Yes, I believe I would."

x-x

Adrenaline pulsed through me as I gathered the burlap in my fists, pulling it taut from my toes to my waist. Tom was the only other one of our group who wanted to participate, and he stood to my right, ready as well. I looked down the line of sack racers, mentally gauging who would be my biggest competition.

Okay, I knew it was pathetic. I couldn't help it.

I was the Michael Phelps of sack racing, and my eye was on the prize.

The crowd circled the race course, whistling and cheering. It was a simple course, about fifty yards, down and back. No other turns or obstacles.

No problem.

The young man from the microphone took a few steps into the course and raised a hand.

"On your mark…" I tensed, every muscle straining…

"Get set…" I held my breath for a moment, waiting…

"Go!"

I took off, jumping for all I was worth. I saw Tom out of the corner of my eye. He had the advantage of longer legs… he could cover the distance of two of my hops with one of his own.

But I'd seen taller men fail. They'd get overconfident and those long legs would get all twisted up.

We were neck and neck halfway to the turnaround point and I heard him grunting loudly.

Amateur.

As we rounded the markers lined up at the end of the course, I shot a glance down the row of racers. Besides Tom, the only other racer close to me was a man near the end. I smiled as he fell trying to go around the marker.

Oh yeah. I had this.

But Tom wasn't going to make it easy. I heard him – on my left now – and I could tell he was giving it all he had. I spied two young women pulling a ribbon across the finish line and I felt a burst of adrenaline.

I may have heard the Rocky theme song playing in my head.

We were close now, neck and neck with only about ten feet to the finish line. I surged forward, hopping furiously, and I heard Tom trip and fall, but didn't turn to look back. Instead, I lunged forward, my hands upraised, breaking the ribbon with my chest before crashing to the ground.

The crowd went wild.

Okay, maybe that was overstating it a little bit. They clapped and cheered politely, and Tom helped me up before I turned to accept congratulatory hugs from Liza and Maggie. The announcer handed me a little silver cup and I held it above my head victoriously.

I may have also done a little end zone dance. Jared burst out laughing.

I gave him a playful shove and turned to retrieve my hat.

And came face to face with Edward.

"Miss Swan. Nice to see you again," he said, examining me with amusement lighting his features.

I followed his gaze in mortification. My blouse had come untucked. My hair was escaping its bun around my face, and I was red and sweaty and had a grass stain on my skirt.

Perfect.

"Edward," I said, trying to tuck my blouse back in surreptitiously and sweeping my hair behind my ears. "How are you?"

"Fine, thank you." He smirked. "It looks like congratulations are in order," he said, gesturing at my trophy.

"Yes, thank you," I said self-consciously.

Tom cleared his throat and I turned to him.

"Oh, Edward, these are my friends… Tom Jacobsen, Jared & Liza Johannes, and Maggie Oleson. She's my landlady."

Edward's eyes narrowed. "Maggie? As in…Maggie's… Boarding House?"

It took me a moment to realize that Edward was piecing together the strange hang-up phone call he'd received to the fact I had a landlady named Maggie.

I scrambled for a way to change the subject.

"Are you enjoying the celebration?" I blurted.

Smooth, Bella.

Edward let it pass. "Yes, actually," he said, turning to reveal a young, blonde woman standing beside him.

"This is Samantha Swenson," he said, smiling softly at her. "Samantha, this is Bella Swan and… her friends."

I looked at her, trying in vain to disguise my shock. Who the hell was this? Then I remembered Edward's mother reminding him of his appointment at the Swensons' as I stood in his front yard, looking like an idiot.

Did Edward have a girlfriend?

I examined her as she greeted each of my friends and I had to admit she was beautiful.

No, she wasn't just beautiful… she was lovely.

Her shiny, blond hair was swept up in the front, left to hang loose in the back in soft waves almost to her waist. She wore a pale pink dress with a wide lace collar and carried a pink parasol – undoubtedly to protect her perfect, porcelain skin from the sun's harmful rays. Her cheeks and lips were pink, though obviously a gift of nature and not a trick of cosmetics. Full, thick lashes bordered wide blue eyes - slightly almond shaped and profoundly innocent.

I looked down her spotless dress to see white stockings and white kid shoes peeking out from the skirt. Not a speck of dirt in sight… and certainly no grass stains from a stupid sack race.

Then she spoke. "It's so nice to meet you all."

Quiet, musical tones. I'd bet money she was a singer. Just those few words spoke of sophistication and breeding.

I wanted to hate her.

I really wanted to hate her.

But then she turned to me and said enthusiastically, "I saw you in the sack race, Bella. That was amazing!"

And there was no sarcasm or judgment on her face - just pure, unadulterated admiration.

And kindness.

Crap. She was nice.

"Thank you," I said, embarrassed and annoyed, but trying to hide it.

"I'd never have the courage to do something like that!" She grinned. "You really showed those men who was boss!"

"Hey!" Tom feigned offense.

"Sorry." She smiled at him and I swear Tom blushed.

"I was just going to get Samantha some punch," Edward said finally. "Would anyone else like some?"

I was really thirsty, but I would rather have died than ask Edward for anything at that moment, so I remained silent.

"I'll come with you," Tom offered. "Bella?"

"Sure, thanks," I said to him gratefully.

The two men walked off. Maggie's "bit 'o the sight" must have kicked in because she managed to lure Liza and Jared off to watch the pie-eating contest, directing a pointed look at me. I raised my eyebrows at her, but she just tilted her head toward Samantha, who was not paying attention. Jared said he was too full from lunch to participate but threw his arms over Maggie & Liza's shoulders. I could hear him saying he'd explain the finer points of the competition to them as they walked away.

"Do you want to go watch?" I asked Samantha.

"No." She wrinkled her nose. "I have a bit of a weak stomach and there's something about watching people smash their faces into pies that just turns it."

I laughed. "Yeah, it kind of grosses me out, too."

She frowned at the expression but said nothing.

We walked to the lake's edge, chatting amiably about nothing in particular. I glanced over and saw Edward and Tom still waiting in line for punch.

"So," I said finally, "how long have you known Edward?"

She smiled, her hair ruffling in the slight breeze. "My whole life. Our fathers were in business together and our mothers became close friends. We were born a month apart. My earliest memories all include Edward."

She looked over at him and her gaze softened. My heart fell.

"Sometimes I feel like he's actually a part of me. Like we're two halves to a whole," she mused. Then, blinking quickly, she added, "It's silly, I know."

"No, it's not silly," I said quietly. "You love him."

"Of course." She laughed. "How can you not?"

"So how long have you been…" I struggled for the right word, "…courting?"

"Courting?" she repeated as amusement lit her features. "That's kind of an old-fashioned word."

I said nothing, just shrugged in acknowledgment.

"We just fell into it, I guess," she continued. "It was natural… easy. We have so much in common and it just made sense."

"So will you get married?" I asked, dreading the answer.

She shrugged. "Eventually, I suppose. Everyone expects us to but…"

Samantha never finished her thought, because Edward and Tom took that moment to appear, cups of punch in hand.

"Ladies," Tom said, extending the punch with a flourish.

Samantha giggled and I rolled my eyes, taking a sip and turning back towards her. I wanted to finish our earlier conversation, but definitely not in front of Edward, so instead I decided to get to know her a little bit.

"Samantha, are you still in school?" I asked.

"Yes, I'll graduate in June, a year before Edward." She smiled at him teasingly and he smirked.

"So do you plan to go to college?"

Edward choked a little on his punch.

We both turned to him, questioningly.

"Sorry," he said. "It's just the idea of Samantha going to college…"

"And why is that funny?" I asked, already feeling a curl of anger twisting in my stomach.

"Well, it's just… there's no need…" he fumbled, turning to Samantha.

She took over. "When I graduate, I'll devote most of my time to helping with my mother's charity work," she said. "That is, until I get married."

"Is that what you really want?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"What I want?" Samantha looked a little confused. "It's… well… I've always thought…"

"A woman doesn't really need a college education anyway," Edward interrupted, "It's a waste of time and money."

"A waste?" I repeated incredulously. "How can an education be a waste?"

"Well, you don't need a degree to raise a family," he retorted. "What would she do with it?"

"Whatever she wants!" I cried in outrage. "I can't believe you! A woman has just as much right to a good education as a man!"

"I'm not saying she doesn't have the right," Edward argued, his green eyes flashing. "I'm just saying she doesn't need it."

"What if someone said that to… to…" I searched my brain for a timely example… "Marie Curie!"

"What?"

"Madame Curie," I repeated. "The scientist? The first woman to win the Nobel Prize for physics… and chemistry?" I added.

"Oh, I heard about that," Tom began. We both turned to him with a glare and he held up his hands in surrender. "Sorry."

"Madame Curie is an exception to the general rule," Edward continued. "Besides, she won with her husband."

"Just the first time," I corrected him. "The second time she won on her own. What does that have to do with it anyway? Are you saying that she didn't deserve it? That he carried her?"

We were leaning forward now, our noses nearly touching, breaths escaping in harsh bursts.

"I'm saying that it's all fine and good for Madame Curie," Edward growled, "It just doesn't make sense for most women like Samantha."

"Edward…" Samantha began in a small voice. Neither one of us paid any attention to her.

"It's completely unnecessary," Edward continued. "And it would mean that a man who really needed that education might be kept from it. He would be unable to provide for his family because some woman wanted to prove a point!"

"Prove a point? Are you kidding me?" My hands trembled and I was shouting at him now. "You are so aggravating! You… you… Neanderthal asshole!" I bellowed.

All eyes turned to me in shock. For a moment it seemed like even the birds stopped singing.

"Bella," Tom said finally in a calm voice, "Maybe we should go dance."

"I don't dance," I said abruptly.

"Well then, Miss Swenson." He turned to her, extending his palm. "May I have the honor?"

Samantha looked between Edward and me warily before placing her hand in Tom's.

"Of course," she said quietly.

They walked away toward the dance floor and Edward and I took a step back from each other, turning to watch them in silence. I could see him take a deep breath in my peripheral vision, and I did the same. So much for being more patient with him.

"Sorry about that," I said finally.

"Neanderthal asshole?" he asked, smirking. "Not very ladylike, Miss Swan."

I sighed. "I think we've pretty much established 'ladylike' is a bit beyond my reach."

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and found him doing the same thing. I grinned sardonically and he let out a small chuckle.

"I think we should declare a truce," he said finally, extending his hand. "I will refrain from any derogatory comments about women going to college, or working in hospitals… or just women in general…"

I took his hand. "…and I will refrain from telling you how wrong you are," I concluded sweetly.

He laughed a little and released my hand, turning back to the dance floor.

"You really don't dance?" he asked.

"No," I admitted. "Two left feet."

"They seemed to work all right in the sack race."

"As you stated so eloquently earlier, that is the exception to the general rule."

He smiled, his eyes on Samantha and Tom.

I took a deep, quiet breath. "Samantha says you two will probably get married."

"Hmm? Oh, yes… probably," he said, distracted. "Are you and Tom…?"

"Tom?" I repeated. "Oh, no… nothing like that. Tom and I are just friends."

He nodded.

Samantha was laughing at something Tom had said. He twirled her and she giggled.

"She's perfect, you know," Edward said softly, almost like he was talking to himself.

I murmured in agreement. She was perfect.

"Beautiful… Sweet… Peaceful… "

"Submissive," I muttered under my breath, slapping my hand to my mouth when I realized he heard me.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Better than confrontational."

I raised mine at him. "I prefer 'enthusiastic'."

He chuckled. "Touché."

My gaze wandered from the dance floor and I noticed a young, pregnant woman sitting under a tree by herself. Her eyes were downcast and she plucked at the petals of a flower forlornly.

"She looks so sad," I said under my breath.

"What?" Edward turned his attention to me.

"That girl over there. She looks so sad."

Edward's jaw tightened. "Well, with good reason."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'd rather not talk about it, Bella."

"You can't just say something like that and not explain yourself, Edward," I said, mimicking his tone of voice.

He rolled his eyes and said quietly, "She used to attend my school. She got herself… in trouble… and had to leave. I actually can't believe she's here."

I bristled at his attitude, but it didn't really surprise me. I knew an unwed mother would be a bit of a pariah in this time and place… but it annoyed me nonetheless.

"You know it takes two to make a baby," I said pointedly.

He looked down at me archly. "Yes, I am aware of that fact, thank you."

"I imagine the young man in this little drama is still able to attend school and social functions without shame?"

Surprisingly, Edward gulped at that and looked away. "Well, yes… that's true."

"Do you think that's fair?" I asked, keeping a tight rein on Bitchy Bella.

Edward was silent for a moment, then said, "I suppose not. But what I think is irrelevant. It's how the world is."

"It doesn't have to be that way."

He turned to me. "You say that like you really believe it."

"I do." I looked up and was surprised to find him examining me with confused eyes, like he wasn't quite sure what to make of me.

"What?" I asked defensively.

"I find you…" he began.

Fascinating? Interesting? Completely mesmerizing?

"… bewildering," he concluded.

I mentally shrugged. Could've been worse.

Before I could ask what he meant by that, Tom and Samantha rejoined us, flushed and laughing.

"You both looked great out there," I said with a smile.

Samantha glowed… yes, she actually glowed… up at Tom, "Well, Tom is an excellent dancer. He was easy to follow."

Tom nodded down at her. "Thank you for the dance, Miss Swenson."

"You're very welcome, Mr. Jacobsen," she replied with a grin and a little curtsy.

Well, this was interesting.

I shot a curious look at Edward to see if he noticed that little interaction and found him studying me with an unreadable expression. I swallowed noisily and turned to Tom.

"We should probably find the others," I said shakily.

"Oh, Bella," Samantha said quickly, "I was telling Tom that Edward and I were going to see the new moving picture, Stella Maris this week. You both should come with us. I've heard Mary Pickford is wonderful. She actually plays two roles."

"Well, I have to work every night," I said hesitantly.

Edward may have rolled his eyes a little, but true to his vow, he did not say anything about my job.

"But not Friday night, right? Tom said you don't work Fridays?" she asked hopefully.

"That's right."

Wow. She really wanted us to go to the movies with them. I eyed her carefully… or maybe she really wanted Tom to go.

"Friday night then," she said with a firm nod.

I looked from Samantha's pleading eyes… to Tom's enthusiastic ones… to Edward's impassive ones.

"All right. It sounds like fun."

x-x

"Bella? Are you listening to me?" I jumped, turning to meet Carlisle's amused expression.

It was Wednesday night and Carlisle and I were working in his office. For the past couple of nights he had been dictating notes and correspondence to me, which I recorded using an incredibly frustrating typewriter.

It was brand new… supposedly "noiseless"… and I hated it.

Still, I got the hang of it relatively quickly, adjusting to the need to punch firmly on the keys. There was no backspace though… and no whiteout. So that night I was going through the pages with a rubber eraser and a black pen, correcting any mistakes.

"You seem a little distracted tonight," he said, sitting back in his desk chair and running a hand through his hair.

"I guess I am, a little," I admitted. He waited for me to elaborate.

"It's just… I'm confused about something," I said, leaning back in my chair and rubbing my hand over my face.

"What's that?" Carlisle asked.

"Well, I met this man and he's very aggravating."

"How so?"

I rolled my eyes. "He has these antiquated notions about the role of women in society. Basically, he thinks all they're good for is being wives and mothers."

"There's nothing wrong with being a wife and mother, Bella."

"I know that." I threw my hands up. "And I know that's how most of society feels these days. But you seem to be different, Carlisle."

He raised his eyebrows and waited for me to continue.

"You don't seem to think any less of me because I'm a woman. You treat me like an equal."

Carlisle pursed his lips. "I do have a more liberal view, yes."

"So how did you get that way?" I asked, leaning forward on the desk. "Why do you see things differently than everyone else?"

"Well, first of all, I'm not the only one who feels this way," he corrected, standing up and walking around the desk to sit next to me. "There's a growing segment of society that's rebelling against these traditional roles.

"But to answer your question more directly, I guess I have a different… perspective on the human condition."

I raised an eyebrow and he smiled slightly.

"In my life, I've had the opportunity to observe people closely and one thing I've found is that they're all basically the same. They all have the same basic desires: food, clothing, shelter, safety, security, and love. This goes for men and women… of all ages, races, creeds, and colors.

"When you take it down to those simple needs, we all are the same, really."

"You make it sound so simple," I leaned back, rubbing my thumb over my eraser.

"It is, really," he replied. "I've also come to appreciate the innate strength of women. I've seen them in childbirth, attending sickbeds, comforting friends, raising families and breaking down barriers raised by men. Did I tell you I actually met Elizabeth Blackwell?"

"Who's that?" I asked, trying to recall why the name sounded familiar.

"The first female physician," he said, shocked that I wouldn't know. "It was a conference in New York, shortly after she graduated from medical school."

"Actually, now that you mention it, I do remember reading about her," I said, perhaps a little defensively.

"A remarkable woman." Carlisle smiled. "So brave and independent… actually a lot like you."

"Really? You think so?"

"I do." He rose and walked back behind his desk. "I know it can be frustrating Bella, but you just have to be patient with people. Explain your position calmly and clearly and they'll come around. Most of them, anyway," he said with a shrug.

"I'll try." Resigned, I returned to my typed notes, eraser poised and ready.

"Wait a second," I said after a moment, a memory popping to mind. "Elizabeth Blackwell… didn't she graduate like… fifty years ago?"

A smirk danced on Carlisle's lips, but he didn't look up from his work.

"Closer to seventy, actually."

I bit my lip and looked down, rubbing out a typo with relish.

A/N: Don't get too mad at Edward... he is a product of his environment, after all... but it does appear our Bella has her work cut out for her.

The painting Bella describes is A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grand Jatte, By Georges Seurat. If you'd like to see it, the link is on my profile.

One of my betas, Tiffanyanne3 is writing a cool fic called You Should Know… Super-cute Drunkward in Chapter 3! It's on my faves… check it out!

My other lovely beta Aecarlso, has started a Beyond Time thread on the Twilighted Forums... if you'd like to chat about the story, come post your thoughts at http:/www(dot)twilighted(dot)?f=33&t=9391 (link is also on my profile.)

Much love to the Whack Pack on Twitter… Mwah!

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