A/N: Thanks so much for your wonderful thoughts. :)

Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. (Though all remaining mistakes are mine).

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

Chapter 25 – Already Miss You

EPOV

My wife pulls into the driveway. She parks and steps out of the SUV, gazing up and smiling at the tree just to the side of the house. The boys love climbing that tree.

"Anthony, honey, come help me bring in the groceries!"

"Sure, Mom!"

Twelve-year-old Anthony, our eldest son, bounds into the scene from the backyard, bouncing the trusty basketball he's rarely without. The four of us tend to spend hours and hours out front shooting hoops on the court I set up for him. Now, however, he throws the ball aside and strides to the car's trunk, gingerly hefting a grocery bag in each arm. When his mom makes a move to pick up the third and last bag, he nudges her aside and balances that one too. She laughs and kisses his cheek, tousling his ruddy-brown hair.

He flushes, rolling eyes the same brown as his mother's as he walks toward the house. The eye roll is a habit he's inherited from her and something he doesn't dare do in front of me.

"Dad says girls should never carry bags if there's a man around."

"Goodness, what a gentleman, and you're getting to be as strong as your dad too!"

Despite the flip gesture from a moment ago, a smug, crooked grin (inherited from me) lifts up on one corner of his mouth at the comparison.

"And just as handsome!" she adds as they walk into the kitchen, her brown eyes sparkling with pride. "Where's little Anthony?" she asks while they unload the groceries together.

"In the pool. Where else would he be?"

The pool is to young Anthony as the basketball court is to his older brother.

"I hope he hasn't been out there by himself all this time. He's only nine, Anthony."

"'Course he hasn't, Mom. What kind of irresponsible guy do you take me for? I was out there with him."

My wife chuckles and pinches his cheek. "You're a great big brother. All right, now please go tell him to get ready for dinner. Dad will be home from the office soon, and we can all eat outside on the patio. Afterward, we can try today's Swan Bellies creation, then work it off by shooting some b-ball before finishing the evening with some swimming. How does that sound?"

"That sounds just about perfect, Mom," Anthony grins. Bouncing his basketball on the wood floors, he runs to the backyard to get his brother.

"And don't bounce that ball in the house!" she reminds him, shaking her head, but the love shining in her eyes pretty much negates the vehemence of her words. She moves around the kitchen she adores, stocking pantries and cabinets, which are never bare because she makes sure her family is always well taken care of. Even with her own successful business, her family is always her priority.

When I arrive a short while later, the boys are still outside, and she's in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on dinner, humming a song from one of the bands we used to love back in the day when we were kids in Seattle.

My heart swells at the sight of her.

Silently, I walk up behind and slide my arms around her waist, burying my face against her soft neck while breathing in her sweet, sexy, and incomparable scent, knowing that no matter how long we've been together, I'll never get tired of coming home to her and our family.

She chuckles huskily and melts against me, her warm body contouring itself perfectly to mine as it has all these years we've been together. She reaches up and slides her warm hands around the nape of my neck.

"Bella…baby, I've missed you so much," I breathe, brushing my lips over her ear.

She moans quietly, grinding her ass against my hardened cock. She's a smart, independent businesswoman, a caring mother, and an eager and thrilling lover.

"Welcome home, Edward. I've missed you too."

My eyes open slowly, her scent and taste lingering on my lips and tongue. For two seconds, when I realize I'm alone in my bed, my heart constricts. A dream, that's all it was. It was different and a bit more complicated than the dreams I've had of her throughout the years, but it was a dream nonetheless, containing all those impossibilities for which dreams are known: the unlikeliness of same-named sons, the impossibility of the woman I loved being the mother of one of them, and the dismissal of the fact that she once loved another man and that she created a beautiful, young woman with him.

That's when it hits me: her scent and her taste…they linger because they've actually been here. I made love to her in this very room, on this very bed until late into the night, and though I've woken to a bed without her, she's here somewhere. Yes, it was a dream, but it was a dream mixed with reality, a dream of what could've been jumbled with my heart's deepest desires.

Seventy-two hours ago, I was a man who'd only ever fathered one son. I was a man in love with a woman who was having a hard time opening up and committing. I was a man living in a fucking great but lonely as hell house with no idea if or when I'd ever share that house with someone who could love it as much as I do.

Now, in a matter of days, I've learned I was once father to a boy who never took his first breath. Bella has opened up to me about…well, about absolutely everything. And last but not least, she's here…in my house, in the house that's been waiting all these years for the missing piece…for her to turn it into a home.

In less than a day since her arrival, I've watched Bella walk through every room as if she's always belonged in them. She's made sandwiches in the kitchen, snuggled next to me in front of the living room fireplace, swam and made love with me in the pool, and shared my bed...our bed. She's marked more than just me at this point; she's wrapped herself around every facet of my life.

And now, I have no idea how I'm supposed to let her return to New York.

The alarm goes off on the bedside table, and I take a deep breath as I reach over and turn it off before heading to the bathroom for a shower. It's almost a shame to wash off the scent of our lovemaking, but knowing she's here now…Jesus, she's in my house, and I can make love to her again without it being just a dream. She's really and truly here…

And making something fucking delicious in that kitchen based on the scent wafting up from there.

My mind is still a fucking riot of confused thoughts, as the dream clearly indicated. I almost had a son I'll never know, a son who I'll only ever be able to imagine in dreams. I'm still having a hard time accepting the fact that there was nothing I could've done, that the decades-long separation between Bella and me was unavoidable…and necessary. She tells me that our son was only meant for our hearts. My head tells me that my Anthony was always meant to be mothered by someone else so that he could find his future in her Nessie.

In my head, I know these things. But in my heart…the dream lingers.

OOOOOOOOOO

And the dream, or at least one part of it, replays itself a few minutes later when I walk into the kitchen and find Bella pulling something out of the wall oven while humming to herself. For a few seconds, I just stand there and watch her moving around with such ease.

"Now where does he keep the…" she murmurs to herself. "Ahh, there they are." She bends over to get something from one of the cabinets and gives me a bird's eye view of those ass cheeks I worshipped with both my hands and mouth last night. God, just thinking of the things we've done in the past few days has me straining against my boxers…again. "Who the heck keeps these here?"

I quietly snort to myself as I walk up behind her and slide my arms around her waist, burying my face into her neck – just as I did in the dream.

"I smell your skin on the empty pillow next to mine…" I sing softly in her ear. "Smells delicious; though, I take it you don't approve of my kitchen organization skills?"

She melts against me, just as she did in the dream. When she turns around in my arms and slides her hands around my neck, she looks up at me with an impish grin.

"They're shit; however, the kitchen itself more than makes up for them, as does your music collection and the Bluetooth speakers you've got absolutely everywhere."

"I'm glad you approve of the house itself…and of my music."

Now if I can just convince you that you belong here forever.

My mouth finds hers, and she makes these quiet little sounds of pleasure as our tongues dance together, reminding me of the sounds she's been making for the past few days, sounds which go straight to my cock.

"I'm ready to lift you onto this counter and fulfill yet another fantasy," I admit against her lips.

"Mmm, maybe later," she breathes when she comes up for air. "You have an office to get to this morning, and I have some work to do as well. Speaking of work, I need your Wi-Fi password. What?" She grins curiously at the look I'm giving her.

"It's just…" I shake my head slowly. "I could get used to this, Bella – all of it."

She swallows thickly, holding my gaze as she cups my cheek. "Come on, let's get the day started. We've got a long drive ahead of us this afternoon."

I really hope the grin I give her hides my disappointment. I mean, come on, I can't expect her to jump in with both feet overnight. And I fully realize that on top of it all, I'm the one keeping her from saying those three little words. But I don't need them laced with one iota of gratitude for helping her with the contract or sympathy at my just learning of our son or guilt related to her dead husband. And I sure as hell don't want to pressure her into being the one to make the move. She's got a life over there; I get that. And if she decides she can't be the one to switch coasts, I'll find a way to get my ass over there, even though to me, this is what would make the most sense for us to be able to truly begin again.

On the east coast, she was Sam's wife. Here, she'd be all mine. And if I do end up going over there, there's no way we'd live in the house she once shared with him.

It sounds selfish and jealous even in mind, but I've never pretended to be anything other with the ones I love.

And at the same time, there's the very valid argument to be made that Anthony and Nessie are deeply involved, deeply in love, and most likely planning to build a future here because from what I've seen and heard, Nessie loves California.

So what will be on the east coast for Bella other than her business and memories of her husband?

Her friends, her independence.

"What are you thinking?" she asks, her brow furrowing.

"Nothing," I smile, kissing the tip of her nose. "Or rather, things we can discuss later."

She nods slowly, but I get the feeling she has an idea.

"Okay. I made scones." Her tone is conciliatory, an "I can't give you a promise of having me in this house forever, but I can give you scones."

So I make my own peace offering – for now. "All right. I'll take them." She kisses me tenderly before turning around to get my scones ready. "They really do smell wonderful. I can't believe you found the ingredients you needed." Leaning against the counter, I cross my arms against my chest while I watch her pack up the scones.

"They're pretty basic ingredients even a house run by men would have on hand."

"That's a lot of scones you're sending me."

"You can share with Jasper. Just make sure you let him know they're not poisoned."

When I lift a brow, she clarifies. "He was here a short while ago."

"You met Jasper?"

"Oh yeah," she snorts. "I met Jasper."

The way she says it instantly gets my hackles up. Jasper is my buddy, but he can be rough around the edges.

I push myself off the counter. "What happened? Did he say something stupid? He can be a bit of a…

"Chauvinistic pig?"

"I was going to say nosy numb nut, but that also works." Sighing, I rake a hand through my hair while she watches me, her eyes twinkling with amusement, which I guess, all things considered, is a good sign. "Bella…I don't know what he said, but-"

"Hey," she smiles, sliding her arms around my waist. "It was no big deal, seriously, just a few little ladys here and there with a tough cookie thrown in for good measure."

All the while, I shake my head. "I swear, he's not as much of an asshole as he sometimes makes himself seem. He's smart as hell, and he's a great guy at heart; he just has no idea how to talk to women without making himself sound like a prick."

"Well, he did a good job of that," she chuckles.

"That fucking-"

"Stop," she laughs. "Look, I'm sure he's a great guy; otherwise, you wouldn't be friends with him. He was trying to look out for you. I get it, and I respect it."

Now I'm going to kill that meddling motherfucker because now it sounds like he was being more than a chauvinistic pig. "Bella, if he stepped out of line-"

"He did not step out of line. Hey." She must sense how pissed off I'm getting because she cradles my jaw between her fingers and forces my eyes back to her. "Don't fight with your friend. I think he got the picture that I'm not a little lady; though, the tough cookie comment I'll accept. I am a tough cookie. Besides, I think he meant that one as a compliment. Watch," she grins, "in a few months, two or three years at the most, he and I are going to be the best of friends."

Despite the fact that I'm still going to have a couple of words with that interfering bastard, she manages to make me laugh. What's more, though I don't even know if she realizes what she's saying, if she plans to be friends with Jasper in two or three years…well, she's gotta be around to be friends with him, right?

"Edward, are you sure driving me home won't be a problem for you?"

"Not at all." My hands wander beyond her hips, under her shorts to her plump ass. "I'm a boss too, Bella," I grin, "and I can take off as much time as I want."

"Neither one of us can take off as much as we want, Edward. We both have responsibilities."

"Bella, what's going on?"

"I just…" her eyes sweep away from me for a couple of seconds before she brings them back. "I don't want you to do things because you think you've got to make up the past to me."

"I do have to make up the past to you."

Apparently, it's the wrong thing to say. She drops her hands from my waist and backs away from me, sighing heavily.

"I don't want to live in the past, Edward."

I take a step forward. Distance between us, in any shape or form, is something I can no longer deal with.

"Neither do I, Bella. But neither can we ignore the past. I wasn't there when you needed me, and-"

"Edward, you can't keep trying to make things up to me for the rest of our lives. It was…difficult, but I got through it, and now you have to let it go."

Closing my eyes, I swallow and rake a hand through my hair. "I know I do, Bella, but I can't do it overnight."

She's the one to completely close the gap between us, her soft chest resting against mine as she looks up at me pleadingly. "I know you can't, but I don't want it to take you years."

"Again, neither do I." I offer her a faint smile. "But…I have you, and that's more than you had. You went through it all by yourself." My voice shakes with emotion, picturing her all hurt, sad, and lonely.

"I wasn't by myself Edward, so please stop seeing it that way. I had Alice…and I had Sam."

Her words are meant to offer me comfort, to assure me that she wasn't suffering on her own, to erase that image from my mind so that I can move forward from the pain and guilt. And while maybe an hour later, or even ten minutes might help me receive them as the consolation they're meant to be, at that moment, that's not how I take them.

"Bella, I've never begrudged you your love for Sam, and I never will, so please don't take this to mean that I'm belittling your relationship with him in any way. He was your husband, the father of your child," I swallow through the lump in my throat, "and from what I've seen and heard, he treasured you." Despite my efforts to remain calm, my chest heaves. "But after you lost our child, it was my responsibility, and it should've been my right – not Sam's – to be the one there for you."

A shadow of pain crosses her features, and when she shuts her eyes to hide her distress from me, I'm wracked by wave after wave of remorse.

"Oh God, baby, I'm-"

"No," she whispers. When she reopens her eyes, they're glassy despite the smile on her lips. She presses her fingers to my own lips. "Don't, Edward. Don't. That's not what I want from you."

A long silence envelops us.

"Look…on our way back to New York, would you mind if we made a stop in Phoenix? There's something…I'd like to show you."

OOOOOOOOOO

When I arrive at the office, I find Jasper in the small conference room on his laptop.

Taking a seat across from him, I set the foil package between us and wait. It only takes him a few seconds to languidly lift his gaze to me, grinning.

"Scones?"

"Scones."

He sighs and reaches out, carefully unwrapping the package. "Ed, I'm not sure what she told you-"

"She said she can see herself being friends with you in the future." Leaning back against the chair, I lock my hands together behind my head – to make sure I don't reach out and lock them around his neck. "I'd actually like to see that happen," I admit, "if I don't fucking kill you first."

Despite the threat, he chuckles, stuffing a scone in his mouth and chewing methodically.

"Yeah, well, I'd probably deserve it," he shrugs. "Hey, these are pretty good."

"Jasper…" With a deep breath, I drop my hands to the table and lean in. "I've been taking a lot of time off, yeah, and you've been left here holding everything together. And that deal the other day probably doesn't make a whole lot of sense from your end-"

"Like I told her," he grins, reaching for another scone, "it's got nothing to do with-"

"My point is, Jasper, whatever you have to say, say it to me, not her. If and when the day comes when you and she are the best buddies she predicts you'll be, then you can have a talk with her. Until then, you come to me."

He watches me, chewing his scone. "Shit," he snorts.

"And just for the record, I have no idea what you two spoke about."

His eyes widen, and he bobs his head slowly, reaching for the third and next-to-last scone.

"Well, all right then."

"Leave that fucking scone alone. Two is more than enough for you, asshole."

He chuckles heartily and withdraws his hand.

OOOOOOOOOO

By late morning, I'm already on my way back home. Truth is, despite the time I've taken off, I haven't been neglecting work. I've spent my time in New York attending necessary meetings, and in this day and age, working remotely is sometimes even more productive than heading into an office full of distractions.

I've also left things resolved with Jasper in regards to both our business and personal relationship. He may be a bit of a jerk at times, but what a lot of people don't realize is that he's an easy, laid-back sort of guy who couldn't hold a grudge against a fly – unless that fly hurt someone he cared about. I think the fact that Bella didn't disclose their conversation has left him with a bit of respect for her as well. (Those fucking delicious scones didn't hurt either.)

When I arrive at the house, I look up at the exterior, and a huge grin breaks out across my face, knowing who's waiting for me inside.

"Bella!" I call out, amazed at the fact that the scene is reality and not a dream. I've really just arrived home and am calling out for her.

Yet there's no answer. As I go from room to room searching for her, I marvel at the fact that every room already feels different, already contains her scent and her touch. The kitchen, though sparse to begin with, looks like it's been slightly rearranged. The coffee machine is on the opposite end of the counter as is the blender. There are kitchen towels hanging from the stove and two, not one, coffee cups drying by the sink.

"Bella?"

I do panic for a few seconds, but only for a few as I make my way upstairs. When I walk into the bedroom, I hear the shower running, her voice softly singing along with the bathroom speakers. Smiling, I knock on the bathroom door.

"Bella?"

"I'll be right out!"

For two seconds, I consider joining her, but shit, I've got to let the woman bathe by herself once in a while. So instead, I sit on the bed and wait, removing my shirt and tie, my shoulders deflating at the sight of her bag sitting on top of the bed, already open and containing most of her items.

When she does emerge, she's wrapped in a towel, her hair loose and wet around her shoulders. Jesus, how am I supposed to let her go?

She stands by the door for a few moments, and I'm slightly mollified by the fact that she looks as downcast as I feel. Instinctively, I reach out a hand, wanting more than anything to erase that sadness from her features.

She moves closer and takes my hands, standing between my legs. "How was your morning?"

"Productive. I promise, no one will miss me while I'm gone," I tease. "How was yours?"

"Productive as well. Got a lot of work done." She gives me a sheepish grin. "I may have rearranged a few things around the house…for Feng Shui purposes."

My hands move up to her hips. "Bella, you won't hear me complaining."

She chuckles, but that sad, little look spreads across her face again. "Hey," I whisper, still afraid to spook her away, "this doesn't have to be temporary."

"I do know that," she whispers back. "But I have…I have a lot to think about. I've built a life for myself in New York."

Sighing, I pull her in closer, and even when she lets the towel fall, I hold her gaze, committing the moment to memory.

"Let me love you on our bed once more."

She nods wordlessly, sliding her hands through my hair. Our mouths find one another, moving with a languidness as if neither one of us can bear to rush through this moment. My mouth trails moist kisses down her neck and across her shoulders, to her sweet nipples and on to her smooth stomach. Her hands unbuckle my belt and open my fly, and I lift up my lower half so she can slide them down my legs. When I push myself onto the bed, I bring her along, and she straddles me. Eyes still on mine, she eases over me, and I thrust inside, going slowly though my heart races. At first, she rocks over me unhurriedly, lifting her hips at a pace that magnifies every last inch of me as I move in and out of her. Her moans and cries are fainter than the anxious cries of the previous days, though no less intense.

"Let me…"

It's all I manage to say as I flip us over and lift one of her legs over my hip, thrusting deep and slow, grinding my hips into her. When we were younger, she couldn't take me in all the way, but now…I push myself in to the hilt.

"Oh fuck, I love you, Bella." They're not the prettiest words, but by the way she whimpers, I know she understands their deeper meaning.

"Edward…Edward…I…I…"

I know the words that are on the tip of her tongue.

"Not yet," I chuckle hoarsely, not even sure why I'm making her hold them back anymore.

She arches her back so that her nipples brush my chest, sending a shiver all the way down to my balls. Suddenly, she lifts her hands to fist the pillows over us, and I feel her tightening, squeezing me. When I grab her hands and weave my fingers through hers, she cries out quietly, leaving me no choice but to come with her.

OOOOOOOOOO

Before we leave Newport Beach, I take Bella to one of my favorite spots. The fact that we didn't have time for her to really get a good look around irks me. As we cross the short, two-lane bridge, I point out the car ferries in the middle of the bay.

"When Anthony was a kid, he used to love crossing over to the island on those ferries."

"We'll take one next time," she says, resting her hand on my shoulder, squeezing in reassurance. "God, it's so all so beautiful."

"You didn't even see the beaches."

"I don't need to see the beaches to know how special this place is." I meet her eyes for two seconds, and a pleased smile lifts at the corners of my mouth.

"That Ferris wheel over there is as old as hell. Anthony used to love riding it as a kid. He'd make me take him on it over and over. Aw, come on! One more time, Dad, just one more time!" I chuckle at the memory.

"Nessie loves Ferris wheels too."

"Then we'll have to come with her as well."

Next to me, I feel her gaze, warm and tender.

We have lunch at one of the seafood restaurants on the island. Her dark eyes take in every detail, from all the boats dotting the pier to the store fronts that look like remnants from the 1950s.

"It's like going back in time."

"I suppose in a way. But don't let the small-town feel trick you too much. Real Estate prices on this little island are almost as bad as those in New York."

She takes my hand over the table. "Well, it's lovely and homey either way."

OOOOOOOOOO

Later that evening, we pull into a modest yet well-preserved home in Phoenix.

For the past couple of hours, Bella has been behind the wheel. I took advantage of her driving and dozed in the passenger seat for a bit, but the sight of her behind the Beamer's wheel, with the sun setting behind her and the wind blowing through her hair while she smiled at the windshield…man, there's nothing like it.

The smile withers as she puts the car in park. Drawing in a deep breath, she angles herself toward me, a wary look now settling onto her face.

"I don't know how they'll act toward you."

"Bella, I've grown up," I chuckle. "While I don't want your parents to hate me, as long as it doesn't affect how you feel about me…" I shrug, trailing off. "Although, I suppose I do owe them an apology after what-"

She takes my hand and knits our fingers together, her brow furrowed, eyes locked on mine.

"I didn't bring you here for you to make more apologies."

"Then what are we here for?"

She turns toward the door, and together, we make our way up the driveway, the dry, Arizona heat like a blanket cocooning us.

When Bella rings the doorbell, the woman who opens the door is familiar and has just a vague resemblance to the woman at my side. If I recall correctly, Bella looked more like her father.

Like my own parents, Renee Swan is likely in her late sixties or early seventies. She carries her age well, however despite the short, gray hair and the wrinkles.

"Bella?"

"Hey, Mom," Bella smiles.

"Oh my God," Renee exclaims, sounding equal parts surprised and confused. After a couple of seconds of bewilderment, she pulls Bella into her arms. "Charlie, come here! Look who's here!"

Both women embrace, yet when Renee pulls away, she still looks befuddled. "Why didn't you call and let us know you were coming? Charlie!" she calls again when her husband fails to materialize.

"It was sort of last minute."

"Is Nessie here?" Renee looks behind Bella as if Nessie, who's taller than her mother, would be hiding behind her. When she finds no one there, her eyes finally move to me. "Oh, hello." One of those perplexed, frowning half-smiles cross her features as she looks me over.

"Hello, Mrs. Swan."

"No, Mom. Ness isn't here. She's back home in New York."

Obviously wondering who the hell I am, it takes Renee a few moments before she can look away from me and back to Bella.

"You left her by herself?"

"Well, first no, she's not by herself. And second…may we come in? It's hot as Hades out here."

"Goodness, of course! Charlie, darn it! Come see who's here!" She moves aside to let us in, closing the door behind her. Once inside, I draw in a deep breath, anticipating what's to come and grateful for the A/C – though I'm not so sure whether hell was outside or in here.

Unable or unwilling to hold off any longer, Renee extends a withered hand.

"Hello, I'm Renee Swan, Bella's mom. And you are…?"

"Mom," Bella chuckles shakily, "this is-"

"I'm Edward Masen, ma'am."

"Good to meet you." She shakes my hand, and although her response holds little warmth, it also displays zero recognition.

"We've met, ma'am – a long time ago."

"Now that you mention it, the name does sound familiar. Edward Masen, Edward Masen." She taps her finger on her bottom lip, eyes narrowing in concentration while Bella and I stand around in the small, dated yet clean front room and wait.

When all color drains from Renee's face, she looks to Bella "Ed…ward?"

"Yeah, Mom. Edward."

In the space of three seconds, Renee's eyes have gone from narrowed curiosity to rounded horror. Yet before she can say anything, Bella's father walks into the front room.

"What the heck is all the- Bella? Bella, baby!"

"Dad!"

More hugging ensues. Charlie Swan, retired detective, displays the same shock his wife just did. He also asks similar questions about Nessie, and when he finally looks my way, his eyes narrow with much the same suspicion as his wife's just did.

Bella clears her throat. "Dad, do you remember Edward Masen? He and I dated back in high school."

Charlie extends a hand. "No, can't say that I do. How ya doin'? Charlie Swan."

"I'm good, sir. Thank you."

And that's about as much as Charlie Swan appears to need or want to say to me. He turns back to his daughter, obviously elated to see her, and leads her into the living room. The entire time, Renee Swan's eyes remain locked on me. As Bella and Charlie walk by us, Renee takes a couple of steps toward me, her eyes hard despite her age.

"My husband's memory isn't what is used to be."

And with that, she turns and follows her husband and daughter.

OOOOOOOOOO

We spend about a half hour in the living room, catching up – or I should say, the three of them catch up, sitting together on a worn couch while I take a seat on a chair across the room and mostly listen. Bella is vague about the purpose of our visit – leaving me still clueless as to why we're here. It's obvious they're aware of Swan Bellies' expansion because Bella picks up the facts from her disagreement with the "account manager" a few days ago to having to fly to L.A. to fix the problem.

"You flew?" Again, Renee is shocked. Her eyes dart to me while she nervously rubs her neck with an open palm.

"I had no choice," Bella says.

"How did it go?" Charlie asks. The TV is on in the background, and Charlie's attention darts between the ballgame being broadcast and his daughter, appearing to listen to both with equal interest.

"It was…" Bella shrugs and looks to me with a soft smile. "Edward was waiting for me after the flight. That helped."

"Well then." Charlie clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable with the current topic. There's some commotion on the screen, and as his attention is drawn to it, Renee glares at me.

"And how's my granddaughter?" Renee asks.

"She's doing very well, Mom, helping to run Swan Bellies while I take care of things on this end."

"I can't believe you left her home alone."

"Like I said, she's not alone. She's got Alice, and…she's well taken care of," she finishes vaguely.

"How long are you staying, hon?" Charlie wonders.

"We're just passing through, Dad. We came to say hi, and then Edward and I will probably stay at a hotel tonight before continuing our drive in the morning."

"Oh. That's a shame," Charlie says, one eye on us and one on the ballgame.

A few seconds of silence ensue.

"Ed…ward," Renee says through slightly clenched teeth, "do you live in New York too?"

"No, ma'am. I live in California."

The relief in her expression is plain as day. She exhales heavily and smiles from ear to ear for the first time since we arrived.

"Edward was a tremendous help with getting Swan Bellies' distribution problem fixed. He's in distribution himself."

"Hmm."

"What's that?" Charlie asks.

"Nothing," Renee answers. "Go back to your game." An unnecessary command since his eyes and attention are now completely on the screen.

"Mom…we actually came to…I told Edward about the baby."

Renee pales, the nervous hand gesture worsening.

"I want to show him…"

"I don't think-"

"I'm not asking, Mom."

Her nostrils flare, eyes so different from her daughter's refusing to look my way.

"Mom, he was the father," Bella whispers. "He has every right." With that, she stands up, and I stand with her. When she takes my hand, she offers me a soft smile.

"Come on," she murmurs. "I have something to show you."

A/N: Thoughts?

The world has conspired today against my posting this chapter. I'm not even kidding. Even as I type this, it keeps conspiring.

Also, to my Facebook buddies, I made a booboo this weekend when I posted the teaser for the next chapter. That was actually for the next chapter.

The song Edward sang to Bella in the kitchen: I Miss You by Incubus. (Totally perfect for this chappy if you want to give it a listen). ;)

To see you when I wake up is a gift I didn't think could be real
To know that you feel the same as I do is a three-fold utopian dream

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

Twitter: PattyRosa817

See you guys Wednesday. (Hopefully).