Twilight Restless Minds

Chapter:19

"Oops, sorry." He cringed.

"Jesus, Edward," I said, "My step dad could use that arm on his team." Reaching behind me, I picked up the lighter and lit my cigarette.

"What team is that?" Jasper asked, rolling onto his side as he propped his head in his hand.

"Oh uh…my step father is a catcher for the Dodgers." I nodded, blowing a puff of smoke out the little window.

The two of them looked at each other incredulously and at the same time, asked, "Phil Dwyer?"

"Yeah, you know him?"

Edward rambled on about how Phil was nick named "Bionic Man" because of his knee replacement, how he won the gold on the US Olympic Baseball team in Sydney at the 2000 games, how he played for the Florida Suns before he was traded to the Arizona Diamondbacks, then he was injured before finally being signed to the Dodgers last year. He also went on about Phil's batting average and other various boring statistics, but my head sort of floated up above the clouds by that point.

I laughed again because first off, I had never heard him speak so much before, and second, he had a passion in him that was undeniable. This boy was a baseball fan for certain. I found it interesting that he was able to not only remember all of that information while high, but spew it out coherently.

"I am impressed," I said.

"Her stepfather is Phil Dwyer," Edward said to Jasper again, as if he still couldn't believe it.

"I'll get you an autographed ball if you like," I offered. The expressions on their faces were priceless.

I picked up a Seventeen magazine from the messy stack in the corner and leafed through it while they mumbled amongst each other about baseball stats and whatnot. I was not a sports fan at all. My mother dragged me to Phil's games to sit with all the team wives, but I found it boring and tedious. Truly, I never quite grasped what the thrill of the game was, at all, other than admiring the players nice butts in their tight pants.

"Hey, would it be okay if I could use your bathroom? Charlie is home and I don't want him to see me like this." We departed the tree house to make our way up to the path to their home. There was a peculiar pink station wagon with daisies painted all over it parked in the circular driveway.

"Is that Emmett's car?" I asked jokingly, obviously knowing that it wasn't.

They roared with laughter and Jasper muttered, "That's the housekeeping service."

Ah, of course they had housekeepers.

They led me through the double front doors into the massive pale gray marble tiled entryway. I stood gaping for a moment, taking in the elegance, the enormity and the comfort of it all. Admittedly, I was expecting the home to be pretentious and ornate, but it was anything but. Aside from the cold tiles underfoot and the twenty foot ceilings above, the enormous open space was oddly warm and inviting. The walls were a soft buttery yellow, bordered by bright white crown moldings, and chair rail. To the right was an open room with black grand piano set on a low platform. Behind that sat a massive fireplace with a lovely painting hung above the decorative wooden mantle. On either side of the fireplace were long windows, without curtains, I suppose to allow the rising sun light in. Behind that was the kitchen which I could only see a small portion of through the arched entryway.

The boys slipped off their shoes and set them next to a padded bench by the front doors. I followed suit, placing my tiny flats next to their enormous sneakers.

In front of us was a large staircase that led to the second floor, curved in an arch with a small table that sat under a beautiful painting. It was a Salvador Dali, and I had recognized it from the countless museum trips my mother and I took when we lived briefly in Manhattan.

"Is that an original?" I asked in awe.

"You know Dali?" Edward asked.

"Um, yes. I lived in New York for a bit and my mother and I took countless trips to the museums there. Dali is one of my favorites."

Edward's smile faded and he said, "You lived in New York?"

"Only for a few months and then we moved on to…"

"It's not an original," Jasper interrupted. "Dad wants one to add to his collection, but they are hard to come by unless you know the right people."

I nodded, feeling my bladder cringe. "Bathroom?"

Jasper led me to the bathroom off of the enormous kitchen, but we found the housekeeper on her knees buried in cleaner. He greeted her politely and then mumbled something about his and Emmett's bathroom being "fucking disgusting."

Edward sighed, offering to let me use his bathroom, which elicited an eyebrow raise from Jasper. The exchange was odd, but I was high so I thought I probably hallucinated it. With hooded lids, Edward led me up the stairs. We ambled slowly down the carpeted hall to the last door.

Again, I stood mesmerized by the sight. His room looked like it had been clipped from a Restoration Hardware catalogue. It was so intensely soothing and serene yet unsettlingly sterile at the same time.

Nothing was out of place. There was no typical teenage clutter, no piles of clothing, not a speck of dust along the dark furniture tops. But more notable than that, there was nothing on the shelves other than neat rows of books and CD's. No awards or trophies, no photos of family and friends, no banners or seductive posters of half-naked pop stars on the walls. On his desk sat a closed laptop computer and his book bag from school.

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