A/N: Twilight is Meyer's. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks for reading, and for reviewing.

May. Lizzie is 5; Masen is 3; Alex is 22 months.

BPOV

It seemed that the catch session had given way to soccer again.

I grinned to myself. Edward and Masen had been alternating sports in the back yard for the past half hour. I'd had a clear view of them the entire time as I'd cooked dinner, and it had been an extremely entertaining and rewarding show. I could tell Edward was having a blast helping Masen develop his sports skills. And he was doing a good job. Our "little athlete" already could throw a baseball better than I could – which really wasn't a difficult feat, I mused – and he occasionally propelled the soccer ball forward rather than tripping over it or kicking thin air.

Although he sometimes still played soccer like his mother. I laughed as he ran up to kick the ball, missed, and landed solidly on the seat of his jeans.

As Forks hurried over to lick his face and he giggled, shoving the dog away and scrambling after the ball, a deep voice stated in my ear, "Masen missed again, didn't he."

I shifted my cell phone to my other ear and smiled as Edward grabbed Masen and swung him around in the grass. "Yeah. He's like Charlie Brown. Or, you know, me."

Jacob chuckled quietly. He'd been on the phone with me for about twenty minutes, so he'd heard much of my amusement during the father-son sports adventure. I knew that it pleased him to hear me so happy. Just like it pleased me to hear the contentment in his voice.

"I still wish I had gone to your school so I could have seen some of your gym class horror stories firsthand," he commented. "Especially the days you hit Mike Newton with the volleyball and the badminton racquet. I would have paid to watch that."

"You make it sound like I did that on purpose," I complained as I added extra radish slices to Edward's salad bowl.

"No. You only punched him in the face on purpose."

"True," I allowed.

Jake snickered, then he said apologetically, "I gotta go, Bells. Ness just pulled up. We have to fix her dad's transmission."

"It's okay. I need to finish dinner, anyway." I popped a sliver of cucumber into my mouth and glanced at the timer. "Five minutes until chicken and rice."

"Mmm," Jake hummed. "I loved when you made that…. Maybe Ness and I will have an early dinner before we work on the car."

"I bet Ness wouldn't argue."

"Not now," he agreed. I could hear the grin in his voice. "I'll talk to you later, Bells."

"Bye, Jake."

I hung up and set the phone on the counter, then I glanced toward the end of the work island by my right elbow. Alex hiccupped in his high chair and blinked up at me. I smiled widely and handed him another slice of apple. He grabbed it eagerly and immediately began to chomp away.

It still made me ridiculously proud to see my little guy eat with such enthusiasm. Even after almost two years since his birth and his early struggles to eat on his own, I loved to watch him eat. And he loved to oblige. His appetite was as healthy as his siblings'.

As Alex munched, I looked toward the family room. Lizzie was still on the floor, examining her newest storybook. I'd just picked the book out for her this morning; Edward and I had to buy her new books all the time because she memorized each story so quickly and constantly wanted new material. Even so, she had her favorites that she revisited regularly in the same way I revisited my classics – and I could see one of her well-worn storybooks tucked under her latest acquisition for easy access.

Alex hiccupped again and frowned down at the remainder of his apple. I tried not to laugh at his expression. He couldn't figure out where the hiccups had come from, so he was accusing his snack. I ran a hand over his unruly bronze hair – hair exactly like Edward's – and moved to start setting up dinner in the dining room.

When I returned to the kitchen for my final trip, I found Alex just shoving the last bite of fruit into his mouth. He looked up and grinned at me, oblivious to the apple mush that ran down his chin. I laughed and grabbed a wet paper towel to wipe his face. He didn't squirm much; he was more like his sister than his brother. But Alex was even quieter than Lizzie had been, and he was relatively laid-back, so he was incredibly easy to deal with.

Which was a huge relief for me after Masen.

I glanced toward the windows to see Edward setting up the soccer ball for Masen again. One last try before I called them in, I thought as I lifted Alex from his high chair and settled him on my hip. He looked seriously up at me as I wiped away one last spot of apple on his lip. For a second, we gazed at one another.

It was kind of surreal to see my eyes staring back at me from Edward's face.

Alex looked just like his daddy, from his tousled bronze hair to his strong jaw. But his wide chocolate eyes were mirrors of mine. The combination was fascinating to me.

All of my combinations were.

Like Alex, Lizzie had her daddy's hair color and my eyes, but her features were more like mine than Edward's; Masen had my hair and his father's eyes, and his features were rather evenly divided between Edward's and mine. Each of our kids was an amazingly unique little blend. And I adored each one.

Alex seemed to sense my train of thought. He reached up to pat my face, and I realized when I felt his sticky little fingers on my cheek that I had forgotten to clean his hands. I wiped his palms with the paper towel and looked toward the windows again just in time to see Masen running toward the soccer ball. I held my breath as he kicked.

And connected.

Edward looked as shocked as I felt when our son landed a solid kick that sent the black and white ball careening through the grass. Forks darted after it as it shot past Edward, but he didn't notice. He stared at Masen for a beat. Then his face broke into an enormous grin as he rushed forward to scoop Masen up and give him a high-five.

With Masen still in his arms, Edward turned and headed for the house. I waited by the counter as they came through the back door with Forks on their heels. Their energy hit me before they even stepped inside.

My husband was ready to burst with pride. His brilliant green eyes shot to my face, and his smile grew impossibly wider. "Did you see?" he asked eagerly.

I smiled back. "I did."

Masen threw his arms wide. "Kicked it!" he proclaimed.

"I saw," I replied. I stepped closer so I could give him a high-five of my own and run a hand over his flushed cheek. "Good job, buddy."

Lizzie suddenly appeared in the kitchen. She glanced at Forks, who was sitting by my feet with his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth, then she looked up at Edward and held her book open to show him her page. "Look, Daddy. Forks."

Edward leaned down to set Masen on his feet when he began to wiggle, then he surveyed the picture seriously. "That does look like Forks, doesn't it?" he agreed.

"But he's not brown."

"He's kind of brown."

"Sand," I supplied. Edward's lips quirked when he looked over at me. I knew what he was thinking, so I shrugged and said it for him. "Artist."

"Always," Edward murmured. He turned back to Lizzie. "Momma says that color is sand."

"Okay." Lizzie wandered off, still studying her book. Masen ran after her. Edward shook his head and looked up at me again.

I watched him take in the way I was standing with Alex on my hip. His eyes grew tender as his lips curved. He loved seeing me with our kids, and he particularly loved seeing me with one of them in my arms. There was something about my "maternal," as he called it, that got to him. Just like there was something about his paternal that got to me. I stepped in to kiss him quickly before I turned my attention back to the counter.

Edward moved to stand beside me. He located his salad bowl – easily recognizable by the amount of red and white mixed in it – and grabbed a slice of radish. I smiled to myself as he crunched on it. He loved those things.

His eyes drifted to the phone resting beside the bowls. He'd known that I'd been talking to Jake, so his next question wasn't a surprise. "How's Ness?"

I picked up the phone to show him the picture Jake had sent me. "She's good," I replied. I glanced at the picture before I handed the phone to him. "She's probably the cutest pregnant woman ever."

Edward had looked down at the photo, which showed a clear outline of Ness's seven-months-pregnant belly, but my comment made him immediately look back up at me. "I have to disagree," he informed me. He watched me roll my eyes, then he smiled to himself and lowered his gaze to the picture again.

"Jake said she and Rose went for a checkup together yesterday," I said as I grabbed one of the salad bowls and headed into the dining room. Edward carried Alex's high chair in behind me, and I eased him down into it. "They're both fine."

Edward followed me back to the kitchen. "If they end up having those kids at the same time…"

"It could happen." Rosalie was six months pregnant with her and Emmett's third child. If she delivered early, or if Ness was a little late delivering her first child, the two best friends definitely could end up in the hospital at the same time. I kind of hoped they did.

Before Edward could respond, Masen suddenly ran through the kitchen, squealing, with Forks trotting after him and Lizzie trailing after them. I glanced at Edward. He grinned and took off after the kids to corral them into the dining room.

Dinner would be entertaining tonight. But it usually was. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

EPOV

Dinner had been an adventure. Like always.

Masen tended to get food everywhere but in his mouth. Tonight was no exception. Forks was helpful with the cleanup, but Masen's aim had been so bad tonight that Bella had had to bathe him immediately after we'd finished eating just so she could get the food out of his hair and keep the dog from licking him.

At least he was ready for bed now.

I glanced over at him. He was wearing his sports pajamas. The soccer ball on his shirt made me grin when I thought of his perfect kick only a few hours before.

I was so proud of him. Even if he was our "little troublemaker."

He didn't mean to cause trouble. He just was entirely too energetic. The early bath had done little to slow him down tonight. If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn Bella had laced his food with a pound of sugar. He had torn through the house for nearly an hour after she had cleaned him up.

Lizzie occasionally had joined him in his running around downstairs, but she had drifted back to her books rather regularly. Forks had split his time between sitting with her and keeping an eye on Masen. Alex had watched the proceedings with avid interest from Bella's lap on the couch. While she'd sat with our two sane kids, I'd raced around with the crazy child.

But finally, in the last half hour, things had settled. Bella had put Alex to bed, and since he was a sound sleeper, we hadn't heard anything more out of him. Not that we'd heard much from him all day. He was extremely good. And very quiet.

His brother and sister were between Bella and me and were surprisingly quiet themselves. We were in Bella's and my bedroom, stretched out on our stomachs on the floor. Coloring books and crayons were strewn haphazardly across the carpet around us. Each of us was working in a different book.

Masen's style was abstract; his page was a swirl of erratic reds and blues. Beside him, Lizzie was very serious about her coloring. She selected a new color and frowned as she carefully filled in a section of her design. I grinned as I watched her. Then I looked toward the source of her artistic streak.

Forks was stretched out between Lizzie and her mother. He was watching Bella as she worked. I smiled at his devotion to her, then I smiled wider when I looked at my wife's face. She was intent on her art.

And art it was.

I stared at her book. We were using the same crayons. I was sure of it. I'd checked. She didn't have any of her special art supplies. But somehow, she had managed to make her coloring book page look three-dimensional.

With crayons.

I looked down at my page and rolled my eyes. I'd thought I'd been doing well by keeping the colors in the lines. Amateur stuff.

I went back to my coloring. A minute later, I noticed Masen yawn next to me. A few seconds after that, Lizzie yawned, too. I looked over at Bella to see her surveying the kids. She met my gaze and smiled.

"Okay, guys, we can finish up tomorrow," I announced. "Time for bed."

Reluctantly, Lizzie and Masen put their crayons on the pile and sat up. But the instant Bella and I were standing beside them, they were ready to go. They raced one another to their bathrooms, giggling the entire way. I trailed after Lizzie as Bella followed Masen.

Bella and I traded nights with the kids. We alternated so we could spend time with each of them, but also so one of us wouldn't get burned out trying to coax Masen to cooperate every night. Lizzie was easy to deal with. Alex probably would continue to be like her as he got older. But Masen…

"No, Masen. Do not put that in your mouth."

I grinned as I heard my wife's sharp voice from across the hall. I wondered what Masen was up to this time.

After a moment passed with no further scolding from the other bathroom, I focused on making sure Lizzie brushed her teeth and got cleaned up. I was putting her to bed when I heard Bella encouraging Masen's brushing his teeth. He'd been getting the hang of it this week. It sounded like he was doing well now. Maybe his bedtime routine would start running a little more smoothly soon. Though I doubted his routine ever would be as smooth as Lizzie's.

Without a fuss, my daughter curled up under her covers with the little stuffed lamb I had gotten her before she was born. I settled in for a lengthy reading session, but story time was short tonight. Lizzie began to drift off only minutes into the tale. Her arms loosened around her lamb as her body slowly went limp. I read a few pages more before I kissed her forehead and got up to slip out of the room.

And almost tripped over Forks.

The husky barely twitched when I danced around him. I hadn't realized that he'd followed us into the room. Normally he stuck close by Bella's side. But it seemed like tonight, he was worn out – and since he was rather attached to Lizzie, too, and she already was quiet, he'd abandoned Bella and Masen in favor of Lizzie's room.

I didn't blame him. Masen and Bella still were discussing things in the bathroom. That could take a while.

Their current topic seemed to be why Masen shouldn't swallow the toothpaste. I smiled to myself as I headed back to the bedroom. Masen had heard the explanation before. But he really liked the toothpaste.

In our room, I gathered the crayons and put them back in their box, then I picked up the coloring books. The variety I found in them made me grin. Masen's work was a wild, carefree display. Lizzie's page was very diligently shaded and the colors mostly were within the lines. My own creation was decent. But Bella's…

I shook my head as I picked up her book. For a minute, I just stared down at it. There was no way a person should be able to color like that.

My wife was incredible.

When I had all the coloring supplies put away, I quickly brushed my own teeth and changed into my pajamas. I grabbed a book on my way to the bed. And I noticed Bella's iPod near her pillow.

I picked it up and glanced at the song she'd listened to last. My smile was immediate and huge when I read the title. Alex's lullaby. She'd been listening to it – to all the lullabies – a lot lately. She loved the songs I'd composed for our family. For her.

She'd been five months pregnant the first time I'd played Alex's lullaby for her. And like I'd expected, she'd cried when she'd heard it. Each of the children's songs had moved her to tears when I'd presented them to her. She sometimes teared up when she listened to them even now. I loved that about her.

I smiled and set her iPod in its place beside her pillow. Then I sat back against the headboard and opened my book to read while I waited for her.

She didn't take long. I'd only read one page before she appeared. I blinked up at her in surprise. She had gotten Masen into bed much more quickly than I had thought she would – definitely faster than I would have.

She was an amazing mother.

She glanced at me as she moved to the dresser. "Your son tried to eat a crayon."

"My son?"

"I claim no child who ingests art supplies."

I grinned as she headed into the bathroom with her pajamas. "Waste of good materials?"

"Senseless waste."

"I suppose he could argue that he was trying to internalize. Make the art a part of him."

Bella leaned out of the bathroom to give me a look as she tied her hair back. "I do not have any interest in the kind of art that would produce."

I snickered as she disappeared back into the bathroom again. She turned on the water to wash her face, so I returned my attention to my book.

A few minutes later, Bella emerged from the bathroom. She had let her hair back down, and she ran a hand through it as she made her way to her side of the bed. I tried not to let the motion distract me from my novel. But it was difficult when she set her iPod on the nightstand and moved to her bookshelf to pick out her own reading material while she absently fussed with her hair.

I loved her hair.

Finally she settled beside me with one of her Bronte novels. When she was immersed in her reading, I worked to stay focused on mine. But my mind wandered. I stared blindly at the page of my book as I soaked in her electricity and warmth. My thoughts drifted to something far away, but something that felt just as close as she was now.

After a long silence, I asked quietly, "Do you know what today was?"

Bella blinked blankly at me. For a moment she worked to process my question. Her eyes suddenly widened. "It wasn't somebody's birthday, was it?" she demanded, worried.

I chuckled. "No." I reached over to gently brush her hair back from her face and behind her ear. "It was ten years ago today that you hit me with your backpack in the hall of Forks High School."

Bella's brow cleared and her body slowly relaxed. "Oh." Then the crease appeared between her brows again even as her lips curved. "Ten years? Now I feel old."

I gave my twenty-seven-year-old wife an exaggeratedly serious look. "You are going to be thirty soon."

She poked me in the belly. "You're going to be there before me," she reminded me.

She wasn't wrong. I smiled. "True," I allowed.

Her eyes glinted. She sat up on her knees and turned to face me. "Maybe I should replace you," she began mischievously. My smile widened as she climbed onto my lap and straddled me. "Being with someone so old is just…" She paused, tangling her hand in my hair as her mouth hovered over my own. "So disgusting," she finished on an absent breath just before her lips finally met mine.

My hands slipped up her back to urge her closer. After a moment, I grasped her waist to ease her back so I could look at her. I reached up with one hand to lightly trace my fingertips over every inch of the face I had memorized. "You have grown more beautiful every. Single. Day," I whispered, pressing my palm to her cheek.

She stared intently down at me. I watched her eyes darken. Her fingers knotted in my hair. Slowly, she started to lower her head for another kiss. My hand slid down the side of her neck to burrow under her hair. The fingers of my other hand tightened over her hip in anticipation.

But she only made it halfway before a voice called from down the hall, "Momma?"

Bella dropped her forehead to mine and closed her eyes over a sharp, quiet exhale. "What is it, Lizzie?"

"Come here!"

Bella opened her eyes to look at me without moving her forehead from mine. I gave her hip a gentle squeeze. She sighed and pushed upright. Carefully, she maneuvered out of my lap and off the bed. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be waiting."

Bella paused at the door to look back. She bit her lower lip as she surveyed me. Finally she shook her head, smiled a little, and disappeared.

When she was gone, I placed both our discarded novels on the nightstand. Then I settled back against the headboard again to wait for her.

She returned less than ten minutes later and closed the door quietly behind her. "She's asleep," she told me. "She thought Forks was growling at her."

I tensed. "Was he?" I demanded sharply.

Bella looked amused. "He was snoring." My body relaxed with her reassurance. Then my heart started to slam again when she purposefully locked the door, walked over to the bed, and climbed up. A little smile teased her lips when she watched my face change. "Were you planning to protect her from my dog?"

"If necessary."

"Hm." She made her way to me and straddled my lap again. "That's good to know. Forks may try to lick her to death someday."

My thoughts suddenly spun out as my mind twisted her imagery to apply to us and our current situation. I tried not to let my distraction show. But like always, Bella noticed. She snickered quietly. "Men are dogs," she commented.

I smiled. "Objections?"

"Not at the moment." She reached up to cup her hand loosely around the side of my neck. Her thumb set up an absent rhythm just below my ear. Her eyes lifted to stare blindly at a point just above my head. I gazed up at her as her mood shifted. "Edward?" she began finally.

"Hm?"

She stared intently down into my eyes. "I'm grateful every day that I hit you with my backpack." She smiled slightly as I chuckled, but she remained focused. "It feels like it was yesterday," she mused.

"It does," I agreed. "I'm grateful you hit me, too."

"But I'm even more grateful for everything you have done for me every day since then."

"Bella—"

She cut me off. "I'm serious. You hunted me down. You never gave up. From that first day. And these past ten years… You've given me everything. Without hesitation." She paused, lifting her hand from my neck to stroke my face. "I don't say this often enough, but thank you."

I clenched my jaw. I wanted to tell her that she didn't need to thank me. That she had given me everything. But I knew that she didn't want that from me right now. She just wanted me to accept what she'd said.

So I did.

"You're welcome," I replied, my voice deep. I reached up to frame her face in my hands. "I love you."

"I love you."

For a long moment, we gazed at one another. Then I tugged her gently down to me, determined that even if I couldn't say it tonight, I would show her exactly how grateful I was for her.