A/N: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This particular plot belongs to me.

Thanks and snuggles to antiaol for beta-ing and bmango for pre-reading.


Chapter 11:

I was sitting on my bed, brushing my hair absently. With each stroke, the gnarled fingers of my hand clutched at the handle of the brush to keep from shaking, my mouth set in a grim line.

The sound of knocking on the door made my heart leap nervously into my throat, my whole body settling back down when Edward's kind eyes appeared around the edge of the opening.

"Good morning," he said cautiously, entering and walking slowly toward me. Leaning down, he pressed his lips gently to mine, the fingertips of one hand curling around my cheek.

"Good morning," I whispered in response when my mouth was free to do so, my lips curling up into a smile in spite of all my nerves. I grasped the hand that was stroking my face and pulled it to my lips, kissing softly at the age-spotted skin across the back of his knuckles and then at the edge of his palm.

His smile was so soft and warm, his body turning stiffly so he could sit beside me, his cane resting on the edge of the bed by his side.

I didn't even realize how tightly I was still gripping the brush until his large hand moved over mine, uncurling my fingers and taking it from me.

"Let me," he whispered into my ear, and I blushed as I nodded, loving the feel of the bristles and of his hand as he began to work his way through the long tresses. I'd been brushing it for long enough that there weren't any tangles left, but neither of us bothered to mention it, relishing the closeness and the distraction of this little activity.

"Are you alright?" he asked after some time, and I nodded, my shoulders relaxing down my back as my body softened to his touch.

And I marveled all over again at the way my Edward always calmed me.

"When is she going to be here?"

I glanced at the clock and sighed. "Any minute now."

He hummed as he continued to move his fingers through the softness of my hair now without the brush. I felt his lips move softly over the exposed skin of my neck as he pushed my hair to the side. "Do you want to wear it up today?"

I shook my head, unsure if I would be able to speak with the sensation of his mouth at the juncture of my neck and my shoulder, his breath so warm. "It's fine like this," I finally managed to whisper, my voice betraying all the strange ways he awakened this body I'd let sleep for so many years.

His answering hum was a soft vibration against my skin. "I like it like this," he purred, and I leaned back into him.

"I know."

The moment was beginning to turn, moving past a line we had drawn quite carefully between one kind of touch and another, something serious and too-hot in the air as I leaned back into him, listening to his breath and my heart beat and feeling his hand moving tentatively down my side.

"Mom?"

I sat up quickly. So quickly I almost fell, instinctively trying to put distance between Edward's body and mine, but he caught my wrist, looking at me with sparkling green eyes that all but shimmered with amusement and a certain something more. His smile was so wide it made me feel strong.

And I remembered all over again why we were doing this.

"In here, baby," I said, feeling Edward's warm hand squeezing mine.

The door creaked open then, and a pair of deep black eyes, full of reservation and uncertainty met mine.

Carlie pushed the door open wide, stepping into the space and occupying it completely. The air that had been too hot was suddenly much colder, but not because of my daughter, who was trying so hard to smile. It was because of my own shaking shivering, my heart so hot inside my chest near bursting with love for two people, hoping they might love each other, too.

My daughter took in my companion with eyes that were hard and soft all at the same time, her glance moving to me and to the wary wideness of my smile every now and then. But mostly she stared at Edward.

After a few tense moments, Edward patted my hand and rose, clutching his cane as he extended his arm.

"You must be Carlie," he said in his most charming voice, my heart melting to hear the whisper of tension in it and the air of gentility. As their hands met, I shivered with a shred of a happy hope. "Edward Cullen," he continued, grasping her hand gently. "I'm so pleased to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too," Carlie said, her voice almost shy, and for a moment she resembled me more than she did her father.

But only for a moment. She seemed to possess herself after just a second as a sarcastic smile lit up her face and she rolled her eyes, glancing to me and whispering exaggeratedly, "Finally."

I chuckled and held out my arms, feeling her as she embraced me and kissed the weathered skin of my cheek. "Hey, Ma," she said quietly.

"Hi, sweetie." When she stepped back, I grabbed at her hand, feeling the smooth strength of it and squeezing it tightly as I beseeched her with my eyes to try for me.

Edward was still standing awkwardly, his free hand ruffling through the silvery red of his hair before scratching at the back of his neck. He cleared his throat then, his voice cracking just slightly as he asked, "So have you thought about where you would like to go?"

I looked to Carlie expectantly, since she always had an opinion, but she shrugged. "Whatever you guys want," she said uncertainly, and we both turned our eyes back to Edward who was rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

An awkward silence descended for a moment as the two of them shuffled their feet. Finally, Edward coughed. "Italian, perhaps?" he suggested, looking at me, since he knew it was my favorite.

I sighed with relief when Carlie smiled and agreed. I grabbed my purse from the bed behind me and began to shuffle myself toward the edge, placing a hand heavily on the arm of my chair.

Carlie and Edward all but clunked heads as each leaned forward instinctively to help me, and I paused, my eyes darting back and forth between the two of them as they drew back, each sizing the other up uncertainly.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, half-smiling, even as the fidgeting motion of his hands betrayed his discomfort.

He always helped me.

But then again, so did Carlie.

"No, no, it's me," my daughter said weakly, stepping away and gesturing toward me. Edward smiled appreciatively then and curled one strong arm around mine, letting me lean into him as I rose and settled back into my chair.

With an intimacy that betrayed our audience and my nerves, he knelt down before me to tuck my ever-present afghan around my waist, his hand finding my cheek as his lips pressed so softly to my temple.

He rose with creaking knees and a soft grunt, handing me his cane and moving behind my chair to push me. I reached up with my hand to place it firmly over his, before looking up to see my daughter staring at me

The tears hanging just barely unshed at the corners of her eyes were as real as the hurt there.

And as real as the happiness in her smile.

#--#--#

Lunch was awkward but not as awkward as I'd feared it might be. We made small talk, and I tried to push past my own quiet to become the glue in what this tiny but growing part of me dreamed could be a family.

Jake had always served that role before. He'd related to Carlie better than I had, their temperaments more suited in happy times and in angry ones. But I had still been the one she'd called when she needed to cry or when she needed advice. I drew on that strength, on the knowledge of that connection between myself and the girl who was part me as we sat there, hoping she would love the man I loved and that she would approve of me.

Over time, the awkwardness lifted, Edward's charm and his lady-killer grin slowly setting both me and my daughter at ease. And by the end of the meal, she was laughing and teasing him mercilessly about his driving and he and I were holding hands openly, grasping them tightly above the table, his thumb rubbing gently over my knuckles.

Edward insisted on paying, even though Carlie fought him for it animatedly. Eventually she gave up, and it was only as Edward was leaning over the little slip, peering over his glasses, that my daughter caught my eye, grinning evilly. And I knew from her smile that she had only been fighting him for it because she wanted to see him insist.

I tried to scowl at her, but I couldn't.

I was too happy to even pretend to be angry.

#--#--#

Edward dropped us both off in front of the building, getting out to grab my chair and to help me into it, kissing my cheek and knuckles softly before glancing at Carlie and tightening his fist around his cane. He held out a single hand to her, but she shocked us both when she swore quietly and threw her arms around him.

As she hugged him, I saw her whisper something in his ear, and I thought it looked like thank you. But I couldn't be sure, staring through blurry eyes that were filling with tears.

When she released him, he bent down again stiffly, saying he'd see me this evening. He waited until Carlie had pushed me safely inside before stepping back into his car, waving slightly and pulling away.

#--#--#

My daughter and I spent the afternoon talking, her laugh feeling less forced than it had in a long while. As if avoiding the subject of our lunch completely, she filled me in on everything else in her life, talking animatedly about my grandbabies and about a couple of disastrous dates she had been on recently. She tried to show me photographs on the ridiculous little screen on her phone, and I nodded, peering at them warily, barely managing to make out anything, the images were so tiny.

The sun was already setting by the time she turned to me on the little couch I normally on sat on with Edward, her head leaning gently against the back cushion as she drew her knees up to her chest.

And she looked so much like the little girl from my memory.

"Thanks for letting me meet him," she said quietly, biting her lip nervously.

I patted her hand and then squeezed it, holding on to it as I tried to find the words to speak.

"Thank you for giving him a chance."

"Do - do you love him?"

I only hesitated for a moment, so much feeling welling up in me. My eyes were shining when I spoke. "I do."

She choked just a little, but she kept whatever emotions were brewing beneath those warm black eyes in check, rasping, "I'm so happy for you, Mom."

She surprised me by leaning hard into my side, snuggling against my skin, and I wrapped my arms around my baby, my chin resting on the smooth black hair at the top of her head.

"It'll never make me stop loving your Dad," I whispered. "But I do. I love Edward. Very, very much."

She was nodding and crying silently. "It's OK, Mom. I know. It's OK."

She let me hold her for a few minutes, and when she pulled back, she was mostly composed, dabbing at her eyes absently before reaching to take both my hands in hers.

"Mom, I understand. So don't … Don't feel like you can't … be with him because of me."

I looked at her quizzically, uncertain as to what she could mean.

Her eyes were sad and smiling and damp and shy. "I'm sure he'll be a great step-dad," she whispered finally, and I froze.

My mouth opened and closed with no words.

Until finally I found them, a whole new set of futures opening themselves before me.

I squeezed her hands back before stealing one of them to wipe my eyes with my sleeve.

I looked at her warmly then, smiling, as I breathed, "I know he will be."

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A/N: My readers and reviewers are completely amazing. Thank you all so much for supporting this little story. You have no idea how much it means to me.

Believe it or not, we're halfway through this adventure. The second half of the story starts Friday. See you then!