Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight parts.

Thanks to Iris for cleaning this up and to M for pre-reading. Hopefully, Nic is enjoying a fantastic vacation right about now. She's earned it. Any mistakes left are mine.


I wake an hour before the alarm is set to go off on my phone. Five consecutive hours of sleep isn't bad for a split shift night. It's still dark, and I've got two hours until I need to be at the station.

Bella is sleeping soundly, and I have a feeling that she will be for a while. There'll be no Sunday bike ride this morning. At some point during the night, either she or I moved. We're chin to forehead close, and I can feel her arms tucked against my chest.

Leaving the warmth of her bed isn't easy.

Rosalie must have given her a ride to work yesterday, because Bella's truck was in the driveway when we got here last night. I debate the difference between stealing and borrowing in the time it takes to walk to the door and grab the keys from the table on my way out.

There's no crowd at Donald's at 6:15 on a Sunday morning, and everything is fresh and warm. It takes less than five minutes for the kid behind the counter to pack up 6 dozen donuts, 4 dozen donut holes, and two blueberry cake donuts in a separate bag. Black coffee "to go" and orange juice from the freezer section complete the order. On the way back to Bella's, I call a cab to meet me there.

The house is still silent when I stop by to return the keys. Bub has joined Bella on the bed. He glances up from his spot on the pillow I recently vacated. He watches me lean over the table next to the bed to use one of Bella's pens to leave a note on the bag.

I boosted your truck, but it was for a good cause.

I doubt she'll feel like doing much today. This way, she gets her donuts and orange juice.

She doesn't stir when the cat drops down heavily onto the floor to follow me out of her room. He passes me on the top step, and I close the door behind me to keep him away from her breakfast. A Yellow Cab is waiting out front, so I grab the rest of the donuts from the porch swing and take off.

My car is still in one piece when I unlock the door at sunrise, and the guys are happy to see donuts in my hand when I show up ten minutes early for work.

It's a slow morning for a Sunday. The midday lull is spent cleaning the trucks and then gaming. I'm halfway through a COD mission with McCarty when Max calls out my name. "There's someone out front asking for you."

"Fuck," I mutter, dropping the remote.

"What?" Emmett asks.

"Charlotte is flying out today." Mack must have decided to talk to her after all. I take a few deep breaths and remind myself not to get pissed no matter what she says.

No fuckups this time.

Instead of blonde hair and heels, a black eye and a soft smile are waiting for me just outside the garage.

"Hey," Bella says.

Sasha is in the driver's seat of Bella's truck, waiting for her in the parking lot.

"Hey. Are you deliberately ignoring your doctor's advice?"

"I dropped off my prescription at Walgreen's, and they said it would be a half hour wait at least."

"So, you asked Sasha to drive you downtown?"

"Yes," she says. "To thank you for breakfast and to tell you that I'm taking my doctor's advice." She lifts her arm and stretches it. "I'm taking the week off. From both jobs. I haven't had any kind of break or vacation since… Well, it's been a while."

"What about the rent?" I smile and she does, too.

"I made more money in May at Rum Boogie than I did all of last summer at Molly's. I think I'll be okay."

"Good. You should rest, especially the first few days."

She nods, stepping closer and studying the MFD logo on my shirt. "You never called or texted."

I've had her phone number for almost two weeks. At first, I didn't know what to say. Then after last weekend, I wasn't sure if she still wanted me to call.

"I haven't taken you to dinner yet, either."

She looks up, fighting a grin. "No, you haven't."

"Do you think you'll feel better by Friday?"

"I'll be fine by Friday." She looks down at her shoes. "What about Mack?"

"I'm working Saturday, so she'll be spending the night with my mom or Jane."

"Text me this week to let me know what time."

"I will." I step closer and run my thumb beneath the bruise on her face. When I lean down, her eyes close and her lips are sweet against mine for a moment. "Enjoy your vacation."

"I'll try," she says, taking a step back. "You'd better get back to work, and Sasha is probably ready to go." I nod, and she hesitates. "Thank you… for last night." There's something different in her eyes, the way she looks at me. Something deep and quiet, but real.

"You're welcome."

She nods, smiling and satisfied. "I'll see you later."

McCarty is blocking the door with his arms crossed, shaking his head as she drives away. "How did you manage that?" he asks.

"What?"

"She's with you."

"Yeah." I back it up with a set jaw and a hard stare.

"She said she doesn't date."

"She does now."

He holds his hands up. "Whoa, man. I'm surprised. That's all. I think she's turned down half the single guys in this station."

Maybe that friends thing wasn't such a horrible idea after all. I'm not sure when it changed for her, if there was some moment I missed. "Don't tell me which half."

The afternoon is busy with traffic accidents before the Redbirds game and a small kitchen fire at one of the mom and pop joints just off of Beale during the dinner rush.

I manage a few hours of sleep at the station and a couple more on Mom's couch Monday morning, waiting for Mack to wake up.

I'm greeted with fresh waffles and black coffee when I walk into the kitchen. Mack is handling the waffle iron, and Mom is slicing strawberries.

"Good morning," I say.

"Morning, sleepyhead." Mom uses the knife to point to the butter and syrup on the island.

Mack is quiet. She forces a smile when I catch her eye but keeps busy until there's a stack of steaming waffles on the plate next to the iron. "Don't forget about the groceries," she says after settling into the seat next to mine.

"We'll go whenever you want to."

She nods and spoons blueberries onto her waffles before drowning them in organic syrup. "Can we go to Target, too? We need a waffle iron."

"Sure. This tastes much better than Eggo."

A pleased grin spreads across her face. "Thanks."

"Since you're off Sunday, we should have a cookout to celebrate your birthday," Mom says. "Let's do it at Jared's house. He opened his pool last week, so the kids will have more fun there."

"Mom–"

"I'll need Jasper's phone number. If you don't give it to me, I'll message him on Facebook."

"You're friends with Jasper on Facebook?"

"Yes. His girlfriend is adorable."

"Alice?" I'm not sure adorable is accurate. It implies a sweetness that's missing, not that that is a bad thing. I'm glad Bella has friends fierce enough to stand by her.

But that doesn't mean I want Alice at this birthday shindig.

"Yes, that's her name. Alice." She gives Mack a quick glance and then watches her coffee cup as she raises it to her lips. "Mack said you have a special friend you might want to invite…"

Special friend…

That little traitor. Mack shrinks in her chair and refuses to make eye contact with me, focusing on her waffles with renewed interest.

"Mom, I'm turning 33, not 16. Let's make it family, okay?"

She frowns but nods her agreement. "Okay."

Mack clears the table when we're done and then rushes upstairs to get her stuff. The minute we're alone, Mom pounces.

"At least let me invite Jasper. He's your best friend. He's family."

"I'll text you his phone number this week. But please don't ask him to invite anyone else," I say. "This thing… It's new and it's complicated. I'm not comfortable introducing her to Mack yet. It might not… We're just not there."

"Yet," she says, letting a small smile turn up the corners of her mouth. "You said 'yet.' I'll stay out of it."

"Thank you."

We discuss my schedule for the week until Mack comes back. Kim stops by with her brood to see if Mom wants to go with them to the Children's Museum. It's an implied plea for help if you ask me. I could barely handle one kid in that place. Kim's got three, and one of them is still in diapers.

Mack and I hang around to spend some time with them while Mom gets ready to go. By the time we leave, Elaine has planned a slumber party with Mack and Jane (via text) for Friday night, and Kim has agreed to the plan.

When we pull away from Mom's house, Mack is smiling and satisfied.

"How could you sell me out to Grandma?" I ask.

She laughs. "I was hoping she would bully you into inviting…" she trails off deliberately, wanting more information.

"Bella," I say. "Her name is Bella."

"Well, you obviously needed some help with Bella."

"Actually, I'm doing okay without you and Grandma. We're going out Friday night."

"Are you serious?" she asks in disbelief. "I thought she was mad at you."

"She is," I admit. "It's okay to be mad at someone you like. This is coming out wrong…" This parenting shit is so much harder than it should be. "Your friend Josie – have you ever had a fight with her? Or maybe she hurt your feelings…?"

"Yeah. We've had a couple of small arguments."

"But you still cared about her. You still wanted her to be your friend. It's the same with… adult relationships. I know you saw a lot of fighting when your mom and I split up, and again right before you moved to Seattle. That's not…" God, I don't want her to think that what happened between me and Charlotte is the norm. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry we didn't handle it better."

She shifts in her seat, angling her body toward the car door to watch traffic. "I talked to Mom Saturday night. Is it true that you were in jail?"

I accidently run a red light during the initial shock her question causes. For both of our sakes, I pull over at Home Depot and park the car in the back of the lot. "What did she say to you?" I ask. Knowing Charlotte, I need to do some damage control.

"You said there were circumstances. I wanted to know what they were, so I asked her."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"She said Peter went to talk to you, and you attacked him because you were drunk."

"I punched him, but I wasn't drunk." Impaired, yes, but not drunk.

Her eyes widen, and her lips part. "So you did go to jail…"

"I spent one night at 201." I'd rather be a disappointment than a liar. "Paul bailed me out around sunrise."

"I bet he was mad," she says quietly.

"He was, but not at me."

"At Peter," she says. "You had every right to punch him. I hope you kicked his butt. I told them so in Nonnie's kitchen Saturday night."

"Mack, you can't talk to your mother like–"

"Why didn't you tell me?" She shakes her head, and I can hear the tears in her voice, even if they're missing from her face. "I can't believe he had you arrested."

"I broke the law," I remind her. "I shouldn't have hit him. It wasn't the right way to handle it. And it cost me you. I knew you would hate him if I told you." She tries to interrupt again, but I keep talking. "I didn't want you to be miserable there."

"I am, though. And there's no way I can go back now. I can't live in the same house with him anymore. I'm tired of feeling angry all the time. Honestly, Dad?" She looks up at me, and the first few tears are blinked from the corners of her eyes. "I don't want to live with her, either."

"You're mad right now," I say. "This is all new, and it hurts. It might not be the best time to make a decision."

She looks up in confusion. "Did you change your mind?"

"No. I want you to live here with me. But you might change your mind when some time has passed, and you start to miss her and your brother."

"I will miss Toby," she says. "But I won't change my mind."

"We have time, Mack. If you still feel this way in a month, we'll talk to the lawyer together, okay?"

"Okay."

She sniffles and pulls down the visor to assess the damage the tears caused. I've seen her mother do the same thing a few times throughout the years. No matter how things ended, I can't bring myself to regret any of it. Mack is here because of Charlotte.

"Do you still feel like shopping?"

"I'm sure a trip to Target would help cheer me up," she says, reapplying makeup.

"I'm sure it would." I start the car, and she grins through the rest of her sniffles.

We find an acceptable waffle iron, and the store has a great organic selection, which eliminates the need for Whole Foods. I catch her admiring a couple of fuzzy moon chairs in the main aisle across from the grocery department.

"Do you want one?" I ask. The pink one would match her new bedding.

"They would look awesome in my room," she says, eyeing the black one as well. "I need an extra for Jane or Elaine when they come over."

"You're an extortionist. We'll get them on the way out."

Since I don't know what she can cook or what she likes to cook, I give her carte blanche in the grocery department. I see a lot of fruit and vegetables in my future. It's not horrible, though, because she also likes brownies and popcorn with movie theater butter.

"Is Bella short for Isabella?" she asks when we're back in the car, heading toward the river.

"Yes." I smile, remembering the curt attitude the night we met and the way Bella introduced herself to me.

"It's a pretty name, but I think it's kind of cool that she goes by a nickname. Like me."

"She is cool. Like you."

She looks down at her lap to hide her smile. "So, what are you going to do on this date?"

"I have no idea."

"Dad." Her mouth straightens into a thin line, a warning not to blow it.

"I'll figure something out by Friday."

It sounds much easier than it is. For the first time in months, there is nothing going on this weekend. No festivals. No concerts. Even the Redbirds are playing out of town.

The next few days with Mack are easy and relaxed, except for the constant questions about Bella. She looks thoughtful when I mention that Bella is in optometry school.

"That would be a cool job," she says. "Will that make her a doctor?"

"Yeah. An eye doctor."

She taps on her phone for a minute and talks as she reads. "It's only four years of school. That's not bad. Wow. I had no idea that Southern College of Optometry was a top ten school…"

"Bella has a friend who came here from New York for school."

"I'm going to bookmark this and research it more. I may have to add it to my list of possible jobs."

"What are your other choices?"

"Vet, FBI agent, yoga instructor, astronaut…"

"Well, there's not much of a budget for space adventures these days, so you might want to shelf that one. The others are cool. If you join the FBI, you're going to have to get your old man a hoodie, okay?"

She laughs. "Yeah. Okay."

"So, you really like the yoga, huh?"

"I do. It helps me relax and clear my head."

"There's a place in The Square, close to Memphis Pizza Café. We could check it out if you want to."

"You want to take yoga classes with me?"

"No." I shake my head. "I meant check it out for you. If you need a partner, talk to Jane or one of your aunts. Maybe Grandma."

"Relax." She giggles and holds both hands out in front of her. "No offense, but I don't want you in my yoga class."

"It's probably not cool to hang out with me."

"It's not that. You'd disrupt class just by showing up. It would be hard to relax with everyone ogling my dad."

"It's the ink. I can't help it."

"Sure, Dad. It's the ink."

I think Bella was wrong on the timing of the sarcasm phase. Mack was an early walker and an early talker. Why not this, too?

She makes a few phone calls, and arranges for her and Jane to attend a class tonight. Rachel and I agree to meet there at five to fill out the necessary paperwork and release forms. She's going to check out the classes with them.

While Mack is busy talking wardrobe with Jane, I sneak out to the back porch and finally tap Bella's number on my phone screen.

It rings a couple of times before her voicemail picks up.

"Hey. I'm going to be in your neighborhood tonight while Mack is at yoga. Maybe we can talk about Friday over a couple of donuts, if you don't have plans. Just… let me know."

I hang up and pocket my phone, hating how awkward that was and how stupid I feel. The unease worsens as the minutes tick by in silence.

Almost an hour later, my phone finally vibrates with a text.

My treat. I'll be home after five.

Obviously a lot has changed since the 90s. I'm not sure how I feel about letting her pay. Mom would swat me with a broom if she ever found out.

Rachel and Jane beat us to Overton Square, and Mack joins them in the waiting area to fill out paperwork while I discuss the different packages available with one of the instructors. They offer classes in a variety of skill levels, and they're open seven days a week.

"I'll be back in an hour," I tell Mack once the necessary release forms are signed. "Have fun."

She waves, and follows Rachel and Jane through a door to the back of the studio.

Bella's truck is in the driveway, and the twinkle lights are already on, even though the sun won't set for at least another hour. She opens the door wearing jeans, a thin-strapped tank, and flip-flops. The deep, bright red on her toenails matches… her. Her flowers, her flames, her glasses… her.

"Hey," she says, smiling up at me.

"Your eye looks much better." I step forward and lean down to kiss the skin between it and her temple.

"I feel better." The hug she wraps me in helps settle the nervousness and indecision from earlier. "I'm glad you called. Sorry it took me so long to respond. I was having a late lunch with Charlie."

"Everything okay?" I'd expected the irritated edge from Saturday to have disappeared by now, but it's still going strong.

She nods. "We don't see each other much, and he guilt-tripped me into it."

"Are you going to invite him in?" Sasha asks from her spot on the couch. "You're letting the bloodsuckers in."

"No," Bella says. "We're going out for a few." She steps out onto the porch and closes the door behind her. "Sorry." She glances at me. "I've had my fill of Sasha, too. I need a break."

We stop at the curb, and she waits for me to unlock the passenger door and open it for her. "You're frustrated."

"I'm not used to spending this much time with my roommates. I go to school. I work. I study." She keeps talking during the drive over to Donald's. "I'm running out of things to do. I've read five books, cleaned out my closet, and spent way too much money shopping online."

"Anything good?" I ask after parking in the nearly empty lot.

She stares at me instead of opening the car door. "What?"

"You read five books. Were any of them good?"

Her cheeks turn pink, and she gets out of the car without a word. She doesn't answer until we're inside, studying the contents of the case. "Yes. A couple of them were good. One was fantastic, but it made me sob and put away a pint of chocolate fudge ice cream. I'm going to kill Riley for telling me to read it."

"You want to kill her for recommending a fantastic book?"

"It hurt."

"Oh."

She orders one donut tonight, the best one in the house. My buddies called it The Simpsons donut back in high school when we stopped here after skating downtown on Friday nights. Strawberry icing and sprinkles.

"I'll take two of those, too, please." I shrug when Bella looks up in surprise. "I haven't had one in years."

Coffee for me, water for her, and out of habit, I reach for my wallet when the kid behind the counter rings us up. Bella gives me a look and pulls a ten from her back pocket before I have the chance to blink. "My treat, remember?"

I shrug. "Had to try."

"What type of yoga is Mack into?" she asks, leading the way to a table for two near the front window.

"There are different types?"

She smiles and nods. "A few."

"I don't know. It's the place over in The Square."

"Oh, Delta Groove. I've read good things about them in the flyer."

"She seemed excited about it."

"So things are still good with y'all?"

"Things are much better. She's speaking to me now, and she likes to cook."

"Did she learn that from you?" The question is so earnest it almost makes me laugh.

"No." I shake my head. "I only cook on grills, and that's rare. Most of the time, I eat at Silky's or get takeout. She taught herself with YouTube."

"Really?"

"I'm serious. She's awesome."

She leans forward in her seat, smiling bright and happy. "I'm glad things are good. You deserve a good summer together."

I almost tell her what Mack said… about staying. It's complicated, though. Mack might think that her mind is made up, but she'll miss Charlotte regardless of whether or not she wants to. I know that from experience. I want her to think long and hard about this decision.

And then I want her to choose me.

I want Mack to come home. And I want this thing with Bella, whatever it is.

But that conversation is too heavy for a donut shop, and I haven't even taken her on a real date, yet.

Our hour ticks by quickly, and she smiles when I catch the door for her on the way out. "You're so old-fashioned," she says. Then she glances at my arms and smiles. "In some ways…"

"Or maybe you've gone out with dickheads."

She laughs, lips parted and blushing. "Maybe." After I unlock the car door for her, she catches my hand and steps closer. Our fingers tangle when I lean down to kiss her, and she uses her other hand to twist my t-shirt, pulling me until our chests touch. "You can text anytime, you know."

I'm hoping the chops cover most of the burning on my cheeks. And thanks to Mack and Jane, I'm also concerned about my ears. "I don't know what to say," I admit.

"Just say hi." More kisses, smaller and sweeter, even though her grip on my hand keeps getting tighter. She gives a final squeeze and pulls away. "You need to get Mack."

My watch confirms it. "Shit. I do. I'm sorry…"

"Don't," she says, waiting for me to unlock her door. "Don't ever apologize for that. This was a nice surprise. We're still on for Friday, right?"

"Yes. I've got Mack and Jane tomorrow night for scary movie night. I'll be taking them to Kim and Jared's sometime Friday, but I'm not sure when yet."

"I'm going shopping with Rosalie tomorrow, which will probably be an all day event. My only plans on Friday are to sleep late and then hang out with you." She catches my eye and opens the door. "You can text me when you figure out a time."

I hate not being able to walk her to her door or kiss her goodnight, but she makes it easier by getting out quickly when I park at the curb in front of her house. "Bye," she says. "See you Friday."

Mack, Rachel, and Jane are waiting in the courtyard behind the building. "Where have you been, Dad? You're late."

"Sorry. I got some coffee."

She looks at the screen of her phone. "Uh huh."

"I'm signing up with them," Rachel says. "Call or text if Mack ever needs a ride."

"I will," I answer.

Mack gets into the car and doesn't say anything while we idle, waiting to make sure Rachel and Jane get to the van and out of the parking garage safely. She plays with her phone, letting a twisted, devious smile sit on her lips.

We're almost downtown when she decides to break the silence. "Your car smells like vanilla and flowers."

It smells like Bella.

"I took Bella with me for coffee. And donuts."

"I knew it," she says, tapping furiously on the screen of her phone. It vibrates in her hand, and she laughs. "Jane texted back with the fist bump emoji."

"You two are going to give me grief tomorrow, aren't you?"

"Why would we do that?" she asks innocently.

Because they're nosey and pushy. It's in their genes. "I'm working on it."

"Okay."


A/N – I'm soooo sorry this took forever. This was originally a monster of a chapter, so I decided to break it up. So, the good news is chapter 13 is done. It will post later this week.

Happy Easter if you celebrate.

Happy 420 if you celebrate.

And happy birthday, MrSC (just in case he ever goes all Sherlock Holmes and discovers my secret identity ;)).

Thanks for reading, y'all. See you soon.

MSC