Chapter 1: Bella and Edward
Bella's POV
Christmas time. One of the few holidays we still celebrate as vampires. With Charlie, I got presents, and we'd go out to eat somewhere. But with my new family, the Cullens, we went all out on Christmas. And the thing is, I think I liked it. Rosalie and Emmett were putting lights up outside on the roof. Jasper and Alice were in charge of decorations inside, and Edward and I had to cook the food. We, of course, didn't eat it. But Charlie did, so I was supposed to make a turkey, mashed potatoes, steamed carrots, and a chocolate cake. It was the night before Christmas…and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
I'm sorry, bad joke right there. Anyway, it was Christmas Eve, and time to cook. I called Edward over from losing to Jasper in a play-fight. I don't get why he doesn't just give up. No one has ever beaten Jasper. He's just too strong. Edward glided over to me and dragged me by my hand into the kitchen. I hated cooking, partly because whenever I cooked, it didn't turn out edible. Why was I the cook?
"Ok, love. How shall we get started?" Edward asked. We were alone in the kitchen. "How about the carrots? They should only take a minute or two." And without me saying a word, he knew my answer and plopped the bag of washed, fresh carrots on the cutting board, then began to chop.
"What should I do?" I asked. Everyone knew Edward could create a better bowl of slop than I could. I wasn't going to do much, that's for sure.
"Can you cut potatoes?"
"I can try."
He smiled. "Thank you." He went back to chopping, and I sliced the potatoes into cubes. Well, they were supposed to be cubes. We let them each simmer in some water, and then mashed the potatoes. I finished off the dish with a sprinkle of garlic. Carrots and potatoes-done. So far, so good. But the worst was yet to come. I sucked at making cakes. I always messed up the ingredients, burned it, or used the wrong icing. I'll let Edward do that. And he did. I started to take the plastic off the turkey when the other dishes were packaged and ready for Charlie's house. As always, Edward helped me. I looked at the clock. 3:00 exactly.
"How long should I put the turkey in for?" I asked, pointing to the oven.
Without even looking up from the cook book, Edward replied, "It says 4 half hours." I pushed the buttons on the oven, and Edward and I left the kitchen.
The oven beeped. No, it screamed.
"Turkey's done!" I shouted to Edward, who came running down the steps. He opened up the oven door and smoke poured out. I starred at the oven wide-eyed. Did I burn it?! Oh, shit. Why me?! Edward lifted the poor, black bird out the oven, and placed it carefully on the counter.
"It doesn't look that bad." He said. "If you tilt your head…and, uh, close one eye…and, uh, close the other eye…it doesn't look bad at all!" I punched him in the shoulder.
"This is what you get for letting me cook!" I said.
"Charlie will love it. Because you made it."
"Maybe when I was in kindergarten."
"Oh, Bella. You're so…."
"What?"
"Nevermind."
Whatever. It was the only turkey, and Charlie would have to like it.
