A/N: Thanks so much for your continued thoughts. I truly appreciate all of them. :)

Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes (though I tinker through to the very end, so all remaining mistakes are mine, AND I have a sick child at home today so the editing took a back seat, lol).

Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.

Chapter 7 – No Whoopie Whoopies

"Edward, if it hurts too much, we're not doing this again."

Edward chuckled, the sound low in his throat as he thrust slowly and carefully inside me in the back seat of his Mustang. His lips brushed tenderly over mine, whispering shakily against my mouth. "I'll try my best not to hurt you, Bella. I promise."

"And don't forget I have to be home by midnight," I breathed in his ear, digging my fingernails into his shoulders and trying to distract myself from the discomfort which, despite his assurances, was bordering on painful.

"I'll have you home on time," he assured me. Then he cupped my face, holding my gaze. "We can stop if you want - if it's hurting too much. We can stop, Bella."

I could feel the effort it took him to say those words, and somehow knowing he'd stop regardless of how much he was enjoying this, helped to numb the discomfort.

"No," I smiled. "I don't want to stop."

With a quivery crooked grin, Edward continued pushing himself in, his moist mouth trailing kisses all over my face, neck and shoulders. Little by little, his words and his touch helped ease the discomfort and turn it into something so much better.

It was early August of 1990. In a week, I'd be leaving Seattle with my parents for a move to Phoenix. A week after that, Edward would begin college at the University of Washington.

Since we'd be apart for my actual seventeenth birthday, Edward had picked me up at about six and taken me to one of the restaurant chains on the Seattle waterfront overlooking Elliott Bay. He'd told me to go ahead and order whatever I wanted, but I felt guilty about having him spend too much. After all, he'd be starting college soon. So instead of lobster or steak or any of the pricier meals, I ordered the coconut prawns appetizer as my main course.

After dinner, we drove about sixty miles north to the Olympic Mountains. The sun was setting when we arrived, and we parked high enough where the Mustang could overlook the river. We retracted the car's top, and the rush of water crashing against the rocks below mixed and mingled with the heavy guitars of the tape playing on the car stereo as well as with our breaths and low moans while we explored our bodies in the back seat.

"Bella…we don't have to do this," Edward groaned as his hands curved around my bare breasts. "Just because…" – his tongue darted over my nipple, and I arched my back, cradling his face closer – "just because we'll be apart doesn't mean we have to…I'll wait for you." He wrapped his mouth around my breast, making me whimper. "I'll wait as long as you need me to."

He looked up suddenly and met my eyes, the green in his so vibrant and bright under the mountain's stars. "I love you, Bella Swan. I'll always love you – forever, no matter what."

I swallowed thickly, knowing with a certainty only possessed in your youth that despite our ages and despite the distance that would soon exist between us, this was real. Edward and I…it was forever. There was no point in waiting.

I cupped his face in my hand. "I love you too, Edward – forever, no matter what."

OOOOOOOOOO

"Seriously, how hard is it to be on time? He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago."

"He does have other patients, sweetie."

"Yes, but if you tell someone you're going to be someplace at a certain time…" I checked my watch again.

Sam chuckled, his blue eyes taking me in tiredly yet calmly. "It's not as if I'm going anywhere."

I looked up at him, and he smiled. When I saw a slight shiver run up his frame, I moved to adjust the hospital blankets around him.

"Are you cold? Do you need me to turn down the A/C?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

"It is kind of chilly in here. I don't know why hospitals always keep their rooms so cold."

"Most likely to keep the germs at bay. I'm fine, Bella. Keep reading to me. I like the strange voices you make." His blue eyes laughed at me. Those eyes, they were exactly like our daughter's eyes, and no matter how…exhausted he ever was, they were always so vibrant.

Vibrant eyes.

"You just enjoy making fun of me," I said, pursing my lips. "Fine. Where were we? Okay. 'What is honor compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms…"

My throat tightened. "Oh, for the love of God." I checked my watch once more and groaned when I found that two more minutes had transpired and still no oncologist. "Where is he?"

"Isabella, relax." Sam lay a hand over mine. "It makes no difference whether Dr. Stevens shows up at three p.m., three-thirty p.m., four p.m., four fifteen..."

"Nessie is done with school for the day, and she'll be here any minute."

"Nessie knows what's going on, Bell. She's not a little girl anymore."

I stared down at the white sheets covering his thin frame.

"Come on, keep reading."

"Okay. 'Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory…and our great tragedy'."

"Bella, promise me something."

I lifted my eyes back to him.

"Promise me you'll fall in love again."

"What?" I choked. "What in the world are you talking about, Sam?"

"You're young, super smart, super funny, and super beautiful. The gods have fashioned you for love," he grinned. "When you're ready, find someone worthy to share all that with."

"What makes you think I can do that? What makes you think I'd even want to do that?" I asked, my voice quivering.

He smiled tenderly. "You loved before me, Bella. You can love after me."

I shook my head. "That was…you know how that ended."

"How it ended didn't make it any less real. Perhaps I was selfish by not telling you that when we first started out."

"Sam-"

"Perhaps it ended that way because the timing just wasn't right. Perhaps there's an angel watching over all of us. Perhaps you were meant for me for all these wonderful years. Perhaps…you and I had a life to build, a wonderful daughter to create, and now…"

"Sam, stop. You're blabbering."

He chuckled. "Look, I'm not telling you to go looking for him specifically, but if you meet someone…"

"I'm your wife."

He chuckled again, indulgently. He always indulged me. "And you're a great one. And you'll honor my memory by living a full life, not by being a lonely widow."

OOOOOOOOOO

"Oh my God, Bella." Alice moans through a mouth full of pie. "These are amazing! And you can taste the lavender in them."

I blink the memories out of my head and look at my sister-in-law. "Well, I should hope so. They're infused with dried lavender flowers."

"You, Bella Swan Laurent, are a baking genius."

"Thanks." A long, tired yawn escapes me. It's almost seven in the morning, and I've been baking and working on today's creation for a few hours already. Usually, the day's offering is planned weeks in advance, but after the events of last evening, I needed something to occupy my mind.

It took some time, and the kitchen looks like Kansas after Dorothy's tornado adventure. Still, I'm satisfied with the resulting No Whoopie Under my Roof Pies infused with a generous dollop of Lavender and White Chocolate Buttercream.

Alice and I sit around the island counter in the kitchen. Upstairs, Swan Bellies pastry chefs, taken for a bit of a loop this morning after the unannounced recipe swap, now apply the finishing touches on the small pies. Soon they'll be delivered to select cafés around the city, and the process will be complete.

"Mm, mm! Oh God! Oh my God!"

While Alice continues with her wildly appreciative sounds, an amalgamation of images swim through my head: my husband's final wishes for me…my daughter no longer being mine to control…nineteen-year-old Edward making love to me for the first time in the back of his Mustang in the middle of the Olympic Mountains.

Alice chews her pie quietly for a bit, and then all at once says, "So…you had a crazy day yesterday, huh?

"Hell yeah." I rest my elbows over the counter and cradle my head in my hands.

"Had I known it was going to be that exciting, I would've skipped work and the business dinner."

"I'm not sure it would've been worth all that."

She gulps down the last bite and makes a show of licking her fingers. "First, Nessie's boyfriend turns out to be the son of the first guy you ever loved, the guy who broke your heart. Then that same guy turns up at the restaurant where you're all having dinner and collides with a waiter, who spills a tray of cocktails all over you. Last but not least, he may or may not have declared he's ready to fall in love with you all over again. You're telling me all that wouldn't have been worth my missing a day of work?"

I flick leftover dough remnants out of my nail beds. "Barely."

Her ensuing silence is more than a little bit loaded. When she does speak, her question doesn't match her expression.

"So how does he look?"

The glow of dawn seeps in through the kitchen windows.

"Alice, why the hell do guys age so much better than women?"

Alice has Laurent hair: blond, thick, and lustrous. When she shakes her head, it's like one of those hair product commercials around here.

"Number one, men, in my humble opinion, are like cuts of steak: they must already be of some quality to age well. A piece of chop meat won't ever age into a filet mignon. Number two, don't start with your self-deprecating bullshit. You look great-"

"For someone my age."

"-for someone any age. Don't fucking start-"

"Alright, alright, alright!" I raise a hand, equal parts surrender and a plea to halt her tirade.

"Number three, what you're saying without actually saying is that he's hot."

"He was always good-looking, and he knew it; consequently, he couldn't keep his dick in his pants."

Alice rests her elbow on the counter and her chin in her hand. "I know what he did, and I know the aftermath, but you've never gone into detail about what your actual relationship with him was like."

"Because there's no point in going into it deeper, Alice. We were kids, who got carried away with each other for a while before he proved how immature boys that age tend to be."

With that, I jump off the stool and take her plate and half-empty glass of milk with me to the overflowing sink. The water's streaming spray displaces leftover crumbs and frosting from all the baking implements I went through in the wee hours of the morning.

"We could talk about it," she says, her voice mellow. "You know, if his sudden reemergence has stirred up memories."

"Am I that transparent?"

"Not usually, no, but this kitchen looks like my kitchen, which is so not you."

Chuckling, I don my rubber gloves and snatch the sponge out of its resting place. "There's nothing to talk about. It happened, but then I met you and Sam…"

"And Sam was good to you."

I smile into the sink. "He was very good to me."

"You can talk to me, you know. Sammy was my brother, but we're women, Bella. I know what it's like."

I sigh, scrubbing a dish round and round. "It hurt for a while, Alice; you know it did. But once Sam and I got married, and after Nessie finally came along, my life was too full to dwell on Edward…or on what happened."

We're both quiet for a while. When I realize I'm still scrubbing the same damn dish, I suck in a breath through my teeth and move on to the next. "Anyway, Edward doesn't seem to have changed much despite the quarter of a century that's passed. I just wonder how much of his brazenness his son has inherited. I don't want Nessie to have to deal with all that when they break up."

"When they break up? What if they don't break up, Bella?"

My hands freeze around the glass cup I'm currently rinsing, and I whip around to face Alice. Soap suds drip over my floor, and even as I open my mouth, I mentally remind myself to wipe them down.

I shoot her my best evil eye. "What do you mean what if they don't break up?"

"I mean what if Anthony is the one for her?"

"She's only nineteen, Alice."

She shrugs. "Nessie wouldn't be the first or the last to meet her soul mate in her teens."

I quirk a brow. "Listen to yourself. Her soul mate? That's ridiculous." With a snort, I turn back to the dishes. "Her soul mate. As if I'd allow her to end up with Edward's son."

"Like I've told you before, honey, though you like controlling things, who Nessie ends up with is likely out of your hands."

When I say nothing, Alice laughs.

"All I'm saying is give the son a chance. His father's sins shouldn't reflect on him. Besides, you told me Ness wasn't too happy with the way you treated her man yesterday. Keep your cool, Bella. You don't want to push her away by being a bitch to Anthony or by forcing her to take sides."

Giving up (for the time being) on the mountain of dirty implements, I wipe off my hands on the apron and return my attention to her.

"I am keeping my cool. Despite everything, I remained in control yesterday – well, other than fainting, vomiting, and almost spewing wine all over the table when Edward began spewing his nonsense."

"Hm." Alice's brow furrows.

"What now?" I place my hands on my hips and walk back towards her. "What does hm mean?"

She falls into deep concentration, one long leg bouncing over the other. "How old is Edward anyway, early to mid-forties?"

"I'm forty-two, which means he's forty-four," I say warily.

"Hm," she says again. "I just think it would be pretty childish and immature to play games at his age – and in front of his son no less."

I grab her shoulders. "Yes! Yes! That's exactly what I'm saying here!"

She smirks. "My point is…what if he actually meant it? What if he was so swept away by his emotions after seeing you and just couldn't fake control as well as you?"

"Are you defending him?"

She wraps her hands around mine and pulls me off of her. "Sweetie, it's just a 'what if.' I'm not a lawyer between the hours of eleven p.m. and seven a.m. No defense or prosecution involved."

"You know, your brother would be really pissed at you right now. Defending Edward," I scowl.

"I don't think he would. Sam would just want you and Ness to be happy. I know that for a fact." She holds my gaze for a few seconds. "So what did Jay do throughout all this?"

"You know how Jay is. Protective."

She snorts. "I think the word you mean is Territorial."

"Al," I sigh because we've gone through this before, "he was one of Sam's best buddies."

"Yes, and he was in love with his buddy's wife."

"I don't think you're right – at least not back then."

"Pfft." Alice has never been a big fan of Jay.

I take a seat next to her. "Look, talking about all this is a waste of time anyway. Jay is just a friend, and Edward mentioned he had a couple of meetings today and would then be on his way back to California. I say goodbye and good riddance. Now if he would just take his son with him…" I chuckle ala wicked witch.

"Stop it!" Alice hisses. She looks in the direction of the hallway. "If Nessie hears you-"

Voices in the hallway precede the appearance of Nessie and The Spawn.

"Aunt Alice!"

Ness runs to her aunt, and they both squeal and hug. Though Alice is my age, she and Ness have always been close, almost like sisters. Anthony waits patiently behind both women, and then Ness eagerly introduces him. Anthony is as pleasant and well-mannered as he's been for the past twenty-four hours. Darn Spawn.

"My goodness, Ness, he is a handsome one!" Nessie giggles while Anthony stands there blushing.

And I try not to roll my eyes.

"Mrs. Laurent," Anthony says, "the house smells delicious."

Heeding Alice's advice, I smile at him. "Since my Nutella Scones didn't seem to tempt either of you yesterday, I've spent the morning coming up with something new." I wave a hand over the display on the counter. "Introducing No Whoopie Under My Roof Pies."

"No Whoopie Under My Roof Pies?" Nessie asks.

"No Whoopie Pies," I confirm.

She smirks. "Clever, Mom, clever – but not very subtle."

We all sit around the kitchen counter talking while Anthony and Ness eat their pies and milk.

Much like Alice earlier, Anthony moans through a mouthful of pie. "Mrs. Laurent, I can honestly say I've never tasted anything as delicious in all my twenty-two years."

"Anthony," Alice says, "the way to Bella's heart is definitely through compliments on her baking."

I roll my eyes, but now I'm smiling wide. Yes, yes; I'm a sucker for compliments to my baking.

"These are unbelievable, Mrs. Laurent," he says, his green eyes all honest. "Kind of makes me regret not tasting the scones yesterday."

"Well, I can't promise you I'll make them again before the summer is over," I say. Too bad, Spawn.

"Mom makes a different recipe every day, Anthony," Nessie explains. "She plans the day's recipe weeks in advance, and it's rare she'll repeat one in the space of six months."

"So it's something different every day?" he asks.

"Yes."

"That's why Swan Bellies are so popular," Alice grins. "You miss one day's creation, there's no guarantee you'll ever see it again."

"That's a genius business plan, Mrs. Laurent. Have you ever thought of expanding beyond New York City?"

I shrug. "I've been giving it some thought lately, but it would take effort. What's more, expanding beyond New York City would mean ceding some measure of control and input."

"And we all know how much Mom hates ceding control," Nessie says dryly. She breaks off a piece of her pie and sticks it gingerly into her mouth.

I glare at her. "I just don't know if the business is ready for that."

"Well, it's definitely something you need to seriously start considering," Alice says.

Throughout the entire exchange, Spawn pays careful attention. "Mrs. Laurent, as someone who's been around the business world for a few years, thanks to my dad, I find your entire marketing strategy innovative. And as someone who plans on working in the importing, exporting, and distribution business," he grins, "I'm already thinking of all the ways we could distribute your pastries around L.A. I bet if you ever decided to expand to that market, my dad would love to help."

Little fuckward. Had me right to the very end.

"We'll see."

"Of course, it's perfect the way it is right now," he adds as if he's just realized his faux-pas.

Nessie swoops in to save him from the Wicked Witch of Kips Bay. "Mom, Anthony and I are going to check out a couple of places this morning. I know we talked about my helping out with the business, but can we postpone that until Anthony finds a place and starts his internship?"

"Unless you need her assistance, Mrs. Laurent. Your needs definitely take precedence."

Boy, Spawn is all accommodation now.

Before I can open my mouth to respond, Alice signals me over the top of their head, waving her hands and scowling in warning.

"No, that's fine. You guys go ahead and apartment hunt. That takes precedence."

OOOOOOOOOO

The truth is, I don't need Nessie's help. We've got an excellent staff that keeps everything running smoothly. Jay and his marketing agency handle the business side of Swan Bellies – with my input, of course. I'm the creative brainstormer of new recipes, new stores, and possibly new taglines since someone last night mentioned the current one might be sort of ridiculous.

Swan Bellies keeps me busy and focused.

The morning passes. In the early afternoon while I'm experimenting with lemon cupcakes glazed with an orange-honey drizzle, my cell phone beeps.

Hey, Mom. Just wanted to let you know that the apartments Anthony and I checked didn't pan out. You wouldn't believe the kind of garbage in this city that's going for over three thou a month!

Too bad. When does his internship begin?

Monday Morning.

Gives him a few days to find something.

You said he could stay until he finds a place, Mom.

I draw in a deep breath before replying.

Yes, of course he can.

For the next few minutes, my gaze rests outside of the windows. Blurs of yellow cabs intersect below. The vague sound of an airplane flying overhead fills my ears. I close my eyes and see myself on that airplane. I feel the pain. I hear myself cry out for him.

When my private line rings, I frown as I hit the green button because it's not a number I recognize.

"Hello?" There are about three seconds of silence, then I repeat the greeting in one of those impatient, sing-song tones. "Hello?"

A man clears his throat. "Hey...Bella."

My heart drops to my feet. "Edward?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me."

Another few seconds of silence follow before I manage to find my voice. "How did you get this number?"

His chuckle sounds shaky. "It wasn't easy."

Yet more silence ensues. "Look, Bella, first I want to apologize if my sudden appearance last night made you uncomfortable. I was as shocked to see you as you probably were to see me."

"That's fine, Edward. I'm a big girl now."

Dead air again.

"I thought you'd be on a plane back to California."

"No. My morning meeting ended early, and I rescheduled this afternoon's meeting for tomorrow morning. I was wondering…I was hoping you were free for dinner tonight." When I don't respond right away, he rushes into an amended invitation. "Or drinks if you have plans."

"Edward, I'm not sure either of those would be a good idea."

His anxious breaths fill the phone line. "Just coffee, then. Just a quick cup of coffee. Look, I know I acted stupid last night, and I know you don't owe me anything. But there are things I've spent twenty-five years wanting to say to you, and I've got no right to ask you to hear me out…"

I sigh into the receiver. "Where are you?"

"Midtown, near Bryant Park?"

I almost laugh at how uncertain he sounds of his location. Darn out-of-towners.

"There's a café nearby in the Garment District, on thirty-sixth between seventh and eighth. If you're near Bryant, you'll have to walk down a few streets and up a couple of avenues. Or if you're worried about getting lost, you can take a cab-"

His chuckles cut me off. "I can walk it, Bella. I'm not from this city, but I can find my way."

I swallow. "Okay. I'll meet you there in…" – I look down at my watch – "a half hour."

"Sounds great."

"See you then."

"See you then, Bella."

OOOOOOOOOO

I wait a few minutes before catching a cab. Usually, I like arriving for a meeting at least fifteen minutes early, but in this case, punctuality seems more than sufficient.

On the cab ride over, I text Nessie.

Hi, honey. What are we doing for dinner?

Hi, Mom. Edward just texted Anthony to see if we could meet him for dinner. He's heading back to Cali in the morning, and he wants to see Anthony before he leaves. But if you'd rather I not go, I can make some excuse.

I close my eyes and bite the inside of my mouth while Alice's advice circles in my head. Don't push her away...don't force her to choose. My fingers hover over the keyboard, itching to tell my baby girl to come home to me.

No, you go and have fun. I'll see you guys later tonight, then. Love you.

See you later, Mommy. Love you too.

I close my eyes against the threatening tears and fling the cell into my bag.

OOOOOOOOOO

Despite my efforts, I'm five minutes early. Darn New York traffic would pick this afternoon to be non-existent. As I pay the cabbie and exit the cab, I look through the storefront window and spot Edward right away.

He's sitting at a small table at the far corner of the small café, and he spots me almost at the same moment that I spot him. When he stands, I've got to admit to myself that he looks fucking amazing – and in a suit, no less. More than one pair of eyes are on him. For a split second, I find myself wishing I would've changed out of my yoga pants and tee shirt. Then again, I work hard to respect myself in said yoga pants and tee shirt.

As I open the café's door and walk in, I watch him swallow and rake a hand through his hair – a familiar gesture that makes my chest tighten.

"Bella." He smiles when I reach him, and unlike last evening, he reaches for my hand and pulls me toward him, his warm lips on my cheek. My heart thumps against my ribcage like it's trying to slam its way out.

On the outside, I keep my cool.

"Edward." I pull away and take a seat after he pulls out my chair. "Have you ordered?"

"No, I was waiting for you."

"Oh, okay. Shall we?" I make to get up, and he lays a warm hand over mine, halting me.

"Why don't you wait here, and I'll order? Do you know what you'd like? Do you recommend anything?"

If I didn't know better, I'd think he was nervous.

I turn my head and focus on the menu that's hung on the wall, trying to regulate my breathing because his hand is still on mine. "The Australian Latte is pretty good – if you're into lattes." As soon as I bring my eyes back to him, I regret it. The green in them, it's as breathtaking as ever. I've got to admit, Spawn hit the jackpot when he inherited those eyes. "I don't remember if you were much of a coffee drinker."

"Not back then, no, but I drink coffee now," he replies with a smile. "Australian Latte sounds fine." He squeezes my hand. "Two?"

"Sure. I'll have one."

When he removes his hand from atop mine, the imprint of his heat is left behind, and I discreetly let go of the breath I'd been holding.

When he moves to the line, I check out his profile on the sly.

The years have been good to Edward – physically, at least. They've given him a maturity, a confident stance that even the cocky boy of my youth lacked. He's always been tall, but he stands more erect now, his shoulders broader. His hands are in his pockets, which pulls the back of his suit jacket over his ass. It was always a nice ass. His nose and jaw are straight and angular, and his lips…he's got great lips for a man. His hair has darkened a bit, more brown with reddish highlights than the lighter shade it used to be. There's a slight bit of gray at his temple – just enough to make him look…distinguished.

I find myself wondering if Anthony's hair will darken as he grows older.

Edward arrives at the front of the line, and I watch him place our order.

"Hi. Two Australian Latte's, please, and let me get two of those No Whoopie Under My Roof Pies?" He glances back my way with a questioning look.

My face burns.

He grins and turns back to the server. "That'll be it, thanks."

"Yes, sir," the girl says. "These just arrived this morning. You're going to love them. One of the best Swan Bellies' pastries yet!"

"Thanks. I'm sure they are."

I hear the smile in his voice, and I can't help smiling to myself. Like I said, sucker here for baking compliments.

While I await his return, I take a few breaths. They say there's a little girl inside us all, and the girl inside me is beginning to feel about seventeen-years-old. I've got to remind her of her true age here.

A minute later, he returns to the table carrying a tray with two lattes and two No Whoopie Pies.

"I brought you a couple of sugars and a couple of Splendas. I wasn't sure how you took it."

He places a mug in front of me, and the fact that neither of us knows the other's coffee preference strikes me as...sad.

"No sugar for me, thanks," I say as I swirl the wooden stick around my mug.

"Yeah, I don't take sugar, either," he clarifies.

For the next couple of minutes, we busy ourselves with swirling our coffee around and blowing away the hot steam. One of us needs to grow a pair before the silence suffocates us.

Edward draws in a deep breath before lifting his gaze to me. "So tell me how you got into baking, Bella. I don't recall it being something which interested you when we were younger."

Inwardly, I snort because no way am I telling him that story.

Outwardly, I smile. "It wasn't; not then. I went to college in Paris and majored in International Business."

"That, I knew." He takes a sip of his coffee, and a sharp sound hisses through his teeth as if he's burned himself. "That was the last piece of news I ever heard of you."

"I know. I remember," I say, recalling the scene with perfect clarity. Then I mentally shake it off. "Anyway, while there, I became fond of French pastries. Freshmen ten and all that," I snort. "I shared a small apartment with a couple of other American girls, and one day…I decided to try my hand at baking. Turned out, I was good at it. It also turned out that the effort I spent on baking was enough so that I wasn't the one eating."

"So the freshmen ten disappeared," he grins.

"Yes," I laugh. "Anyway, for a long while, it was just a hobby. I worked with Sam, my husband, at an American marketing agency's Parisian office, but after Nessie was born, I switched to part-time. When she started school, I picked up the hobby again, baking for birthdays, holidays, and for other special occasions. Pretty soon, everyone began turning to me when they had parties or social functions they needed pastries for, and an unofficial catering business ensued. It was all on the side, though, just for fun until…"

I guide my mug to my mouth, narrowing my lips as I sip carefully.

"Until…?" he prompts.

Sighing, I set the mug down again. "When Sam got sick, I quit work, and I quit baking so that I could take care of him, accompany him to his appointments and such. After he passed, and Nessie readied herself for college, I figured I might as well start my own catering business - officially, this time, to keep busy. That's how Swan Bellies – baked fresh for your belly – was born. Although, as you've made clear," I grin, "you're not crazy about that tagline."

He laughs and puts up his hands, palms out. "Hey, don't listen to me; I'm not an expert at advertising or marketing. My expertise is importing and exporting."

"So Anthony says."

"I still can't believe…my son and your daughter. It's kind of mind-boggling."

"It's a small world after all."

"You always were a big Disney fan." He smiles sheepishly. "When I saw you last night at the restaurant, it left me speechless – which is ridiculous," he snorts, "considering the fact that there's always been so much I've wanted to say to you. Plus, it felt like everyone's eyes were on us."

"Everyone's eyes were on us," I smirk.

He holds my gaze and reaches over the table, wrapping a hand over mine once again. "Bella, I was truly sorry to hear about your husband."

The thing is, both his words and his gesture of comfort do sound and feel heartfelt.

"Thanks," I say quietly.

After a few seconds, when withdraws his hand, a small part of me misses the warmth.

"Where did you meet?"

"His sister was one of my college roommates. He'd graduated a few years earlier and had received a great offer right in Paris. So after we married, we stayed for a few years. When Nessie was born, we asked the company to relocate us back to the U.S."

He nods. "How long were you married?

"Almost eighteen years. We married straight out of college; Ness was born shortly after. Back then, kids got married coming out of college and had babies while in their twenties. Nowadays, it seems people wait longer."

He's engrossed and methodic with swirling the stick around his coffee.

"I married in my junior year of college. I was twenty-one when Anthony was born."

"Wow," I say. "You guys didn't even wait to graduate. That's love."

He meets my eyes again. "Bella-"

"Everything happens for a reason, Edward."

"Yeah. Yeah, it does. I wouldn't trade my son for anything in the world."

"And I wouldn't trade my daughter."

"It doesn't mean I don't owe you an apology – a huge one – for how things went down."

I take another sip and smile down at my mug. "It's not necessary, Edward. It was a quarter of a century ago. Like Jay said last night – a lifetime ago."

Edward snorts, a scowl spreading across his handsome face. "I think your family friend had his own agenda last night."

"He's protective of us, yes," I agree with a humorless chuckle. "He was one of my husband's best friends, and I think the way you were acting just made him nervous."

"The way I was acting?"

"Your Casanova lines," I clarify.

"My lines?" he says.

I set down my mug. "Look, I know you; I know how you operate, but he doesn't. With Sam gone, Jay feels it falls to him to watch over Nessie and me."

His shoulders tense. He rolls them back, features morphing into wariness while he sets down his mug. "Has Anthony stepped out of line in some way? Has he done or said anything to Nessie that concerns you? Do you need me to speak to him?" There's a hard edge to his voice.

"No, no. He's been…a perfect gentleman. I just mean that while I'm old enough to take care of myself, my daughter is still quite young."

"Anthony is young too, but they're both smart individuals."

"Yes, they are. But we agree that they're young."

He frowns. "What exactly are we agreeing?"

"I just don't want Ness to lose focus. She's only nineteen, and she's just completed her first year of college. Your son is set to finish soon. They're at different stages, and both you and I know how views can change at their ages."

He rubs the back of his neck. "From what Anthony has told me, and from what I saw last night, my impression is that they know what they want. I don't consider their relationship casual, and I know for a fact Anthony doesn't consider it to be."

"He's only twenty-two, Edward. As we agreed last night, they think they know it all at that age."

"Didn't you just say you married straight out of college? You would've been about twenty-two."

"Not everyone has the maturity level for commitment at that age, which is why I think it's great that people tend to wait longer nowadays. I don't see why my daughter and your son should rush into a commitment at this point. Lord only knows what's waiting for either of them around the corner."

"Bella, at Anthony's age, I was married and had a one-year-old kid. I worked full-time, and I attended college part-time. Yeah, I was a stupid, immature asshole the last time you saw me, but when it came time to grow up, I grew up."

"And then you divorced a few years later."

His jaw tightens. "That shouldn't reflect on my son."

"Edward, you're misunderstanding me. You're your son's advocate, and that's fine. But by the same token, I want to make sure this relationship doesn't leave my daughter floundering and with a broken heart."

He jerks back. "What makes you think my son would do that to your daughter?"

The words just spill out. "Because they learn by example."

His green eyes sear through me, nostrils flaring, as I sit there doing my best to control my breathing, my racing heart, and denying myself the urge to hurl.

Eyes on me, he pulls out his wallet and withdraws a couple of bills, stiffly settling them between us.

"Bella, for years, I've wanted to apologize to you for what I did. I'm so sorry. Yes, I was a stupid asshole, and I made an idiotic decision based on immature reasoning. You've got every right to hate me-"

"I don't hate you, Edward."

"-but don't judge my son based on my mistakes. It was good catching up with you. Take care."

"You too."

He stands and buttons his suit jacket before stalking past me.

A/N: Thoughts?

Oh shit. Should I don my body armor?

Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page.

Twitter: PattyRosa817

See you all on Wednesday. :)