A/N: Third place in the WIP Awards non-canon category. Not bad! Thanks!
"YES! We made it in time for the Parade!"
I don't think I've ever heard Sketch so excited about anything. He called me last night to see what time he and Jas should be here today, and I told him whenever he felt like it. Guess he didn't want to be on the road when Santa arrives in Herald Square. I'm positive I've never seen him so dressed up. Khakis with a brown and cream checked button up with a cream vest and brown patterned tie. Dude is even sporting a pocket watch. Just, damn. Pete's hot. We invited Sketch and the band for dinner, but all of them had plans with family except him. Like Jas, Pete is a transplant. He runs to the kitchen to greet Mom and Esme, and we hear squeals of delight. Jas and I hug in the hallway.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Babe," Jas murmurs, kissing me lightly but with a not-so-subtle desire for more.
"Thank you, Jas. Happy Turkey Day to you, too." My kiss back is supposed to be sweet and brief. Isn't working out that way. The fact that he's wearing slim, dark jeans and a brown sweater that hugs his shoulders just right doesn't exactly deter me from molesting him.
"All right, enough of that," Pete crows, grabbing my arm and pulling me into the living room. He flops us both down on the couch while simultaneously waving at assorted Swans as they stumble down the stairs and various Cullens already scattered around the room. The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade brings us all together. Every year at 9am. Mom and Esme run in from the kitchen to stand behind the couch. They love Matt Lauer. It isn't Thanksgiving for them until they know whether he's going to wear a scarf and a hat for the broadcast.
"Please, sit down, ladies," drawls Jas, being perfect.
"No, no. We'll be running back and forth. Sit," Mom explains. She and Esme take care of all the last minute preparation during the parade. It's their thing, whether at our house or the Cullens'. They look so domestic in their aprons.
Finally Jas does sit and throws his arm around me. The couch gets more crowded as the floats and balloons really get going, and Jas pulls me onto his lap when Mike and Ali join us. She's on his lap, too. Dad and smiles, and Carlisle tries to hide his scowl. Such tolerant fathers. My dad is totally fine with PDA, and Carlisle has learned to live with it. Good thing, too, because between the two of them, they could make a person truly disappear in this town.
"Look, baby girl! Broadway! You'll be there soon! Getting excited?" Pete is so cute, like a little boy.
"I can't wait. It's so cool to see all these places and know that I'll be right there," I say, sounding a bit like a child myself.
"Wait til you see the tree at Rockefeller Center, Bells," pipes up Emmett.
"Mm hmm," is my reply. Still feeling a little unsure when it comes to Em at the moment. While I'm very grateful he had my back, and happy that he didn't cut Jas out completely, I'm not exactly pleased that he was trying to manipulate things behind the scenes. Ali, I expected to do that. Em, not so much. I have to decide either to get over it or be mad. I'm leaning toward getting over it, but I'm getting there slowly just to see him sweat.
"I want to go ice skating there, too!" trills Alice. "But if it's too crowded, we can go to Bryant Park. I think it's just as good."
We talk about the city as the parade winds down, Jas just holding my hand. I don't think he's too excited for me to go. Once Santa has made his big entrance, thus ushering in the holiday season, we are called to the table. The oohs and ahhs fill the turkey-scented air, and we all dig in.
"If you reach for that drumstick again, I will punch you in the face. I promise."
Jake's the one who said it, but none of us can figure out who he's talking to; there are currently four other people attempting to lay claim to that crispy handle of dark meat goodness. Slowly they all pull their arms back in disappointment. They are all afraid of him. Jake is happy and reaches for his prize only to be stopped cold.
"Thank you for defending my favorite piece of bird," Dad says with a laughing lilt to his voice as he grabs the leg.
Charlie is not afraid of Jake, and he takes a very large, messy, satisfying bite out of the last drumstick on the table. Jas, Seth, Mike, and Sketch all opera clap for my dad. They didn't get what they wanted, but neither did Jake. Carlisle doesn't care because he got the other leg, and Emmett hates dark meat, anyway. Stuffed-mouth smiles for all the dudes at the table. Well, except for Jake. That's some awesomesauce to go with the cranberries, right there. Mom, Esme, Ali, Rose and I just shake our heads at each other, but I'm pretty sure we're all enjoying the silliness on display by the assembled badasses.
"This is some delicious bird, Mama Renee," Pete coos toward my mother, who just beams at the compliment. Turning to his right, he unleashes his adorableness on Esme. "And these are the best candied yams I've had since I left home, Mama Esme." Esme blushes. They didn't invite him to call them "Mama"; that was all him. It's obvious they don't mind. Completely charmed, the both of them.
"Well, you're certainly welcome, Peter," my mother gushes, like she's proud of her very own toddler's good manners.
"We're so happy you could be with us today," Esme coos, as if to a baby.
Now it's Dad and Carlisle's turn to roll their eyes. I think both have realized that Sketchy Pete has just become a fixture in their lives. They'll be fine, as long as Sketch doesn't call either of them "Daddy". Besides, we could all do worse than to have his special brand of crazy around more often.
"Where is home, Peter?" asks my mother. Have to get the details if she's going to adopt the boy.
"Virginia. Been gone a long time. Tried out a lot of places before I settled on Washington."
"You still miss it?"
He smiles at me when I ask that. "Not as much as I used to. I have great friends, a successful business, people who I think of a family. My life here is pretty good." The moms in the room tear up. They already think of him as family, too.
We're all happy, smiling, stuffed, and in need of a break from the table once the guys have all cleaned their plates. Like most American households, the women revert happily back to traditional gender roles on this holiday in particular, and send the menfolk into the living room to watch football while we clean up the remains of a most delicious dinner. Mom did indeed cook the turkey; it's one of the few things the boys insist she make in the course of the year. She made some pretty good yeast rolls, too. Esme brought the candied yams and green bean casserole, her two yearly assignments. It was my job to make the mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy because Mom's is always lumpy, Brussels sprouts, glazed carrots, and two kinds of cranberry sauce – homemade for the normal people among us, and the jellied kind out of a can for my father because it reminds him of his childhood. This year, I also took a stab at homemade macaroni and cheese. It's a Southern staple, and I wanted Jas and Pete to feel at home. There isn't any left, so I guess I did all right.
We are all gossiping and clearing the table. Mom and Esme are busy making to-go plates for Pete. Ali and I are getting dessert plates ready. Rose has just started to brew the coffee. I wasn't sure how it would be between Rose and me; we didn't exactly part on the best of terms the last time we were together. But I figured she was a package deal with Emmett, and Em had to be here, no question. There is honestly less tension between the two of us than there is between her and Ali. I have to hope it will all just blow over.
I start the first load in the dishwasher and call the boys back to the table for pie. This is where Mary Alice Cullen shines. My tiny buddy can design, pattern, cut, and sew an outfit that would make Michael Kors jealous; this is a known fact. What most people don't know is that if she chooses to open a bakery rather than a design studio in the future, she'll probably be even more successful. Pumpkin pie, apple pie, cheesecake with berries, pecan pie and red velvet cake for the Southern boys, cinnamon sugar cookies, and a carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. I will not be able to wear anything but sweat pants for a week. Don't care.
"Alice, I am going to be a very fat old man," Mike says lovingly after he finishes his third piece of whatever. He ate them too fast for me to see.
"No you won't, Mikey. No husband of mine is going to be too fat to wear the clothes I pick out for him. We'll join a gym for geezers."
Hard to tell if Mike is more afraid of Emmett's choked sputtering or Carlisle's absolute stillness. It's unnatural and bit unnerving how statue-like he is at the moment.
"Excuse me," Daddy C says very calmly after he starts breathing again. "No what of yours, Mary Alice?"
"Husband, Dad," she states simply, holding securely onto Mike so he can't bolt. "Surely you realize that's somewhere in our future. Not any time soon, of course, but on the horizon." For her, it's just fact.
Turning his head slightly away from his darling, apple-of-his-eye, only daughter to face the boy in question, Carlisle puts his fork down and inquires, "Is that so, Michael?"
"Uh, um, I, ah, what?" I think the situation has gotten way beyond what Mike can handle. Jake and Seth just think it's funny. Jas is staying very, very still. Don't move, Jasper. They can't see you if you don't move.
"Football?" Leave it to Sketch to diffuse the bomb.
Carlisle makes sure he and Mike are on the same. This gives him the ability to throw the ball to him every single time, ensuring tackles by both Jake and Emmett, who are on Dad's team. It's painful and hilarious to watch. Jas and Seth are on Carlisle's team. They're playing well together. Seth is definitely letting go of any bad feelings. They'll be out there until they all feel the need for a nap.
Chilly from the November air, we girls head inside for hot chocolate and one more round of cleaning.
"Thank you, girls, for helping out so much. Today has been wonderful!" My mother enthuses as we sit in the living room again. The last few minutes of the National Dog Show plays on the television. Holidays bring out the Norman Rockwell traditionalist in her.
"You're so welcome, Mrs. Swan. Thank you for inviting me," replies Rose, all manners. She just can't bring herself to call them Renee and Esme. "And Pete and Jas, for that matter."
"That's what family is for, Rose," Esme tells her with a smile. "Next holiday get-together, we'll ALL be here." It's easy to forget sometimes how much she must be missing Edward. She puts on such a happy face, never complains, doesn't let us see that it must be so painful for her.
"When does he get home, Esme?" I ask.
"The week after we return from New York. I can't wait. I miss him so very much." Her eyes are shiny, but she smiles. Changing the subject, she says, "So! New York! Do you have a Must See list, Bella?"
"You know me so well. Of course, I do!"
I get no further than item ten on my list when the boys return, rosy cheeked and out of breath. Mike looks a bit disheveled, and Carlisle is smiling. The party breaks up soon after they come in. Carlisle and Esme head home. Alice and Mike go off to do things she is forbidden to tell me, and then to bed because she will dragging him shopping at 3am. Jake and Seth are meeting up with Victoria and Jane. Jake somehow got the red head to forgive him. My brother, the charming scoundrel. Might be why I love Pete so much. He, too, leaves after a round of smooches, heavy laden with leftovers. Jas came with him, but he's leaving with Em and Rose, who have decided to hang out for a while.
Mom and Dad go upstairs to nap. Please, let them be napping. It's the perfect opportunity to devour Jas, but after devouring so much at dinner, I just don't have the energy. Seems everyone else feels the same way, and we all end up asleep, Rose and Em on the couch, Jas and me in an overstuffed chair. I think we would have all slept until Friday if not for Emmett's snoring.
"Jas. Jas, wake up," I whisper, not sure that I want to wake him up at all. He always looks so beautiful when he's sleeping. Rose is already awake and is having the same thoughts about Emmett, judging by the soft look on her face. Funny how, as many times as I've seen a sleeping Emmett, I've never had that thought about him. I can see her point; I've just never considered it before. Perspective.
"We really should wake them. Em has to be back soon. Big game this weekend," Rose tells me quietly.
"Saturday?"
"Yeah. Jasper has a gig tomorrow, though. Are you coming?" She seems almost hopeful. The old. Less grown up, Bella would have shut her down. But I told him I had grown…
"Yeah, I am. You want to meet early? Go shopping first?"
"How early? Black Friday early or before the show early?" Panic in her voice now.
"Oh, hell no. Black Friday is for Ali. I'm all about sleeping in," I assure her.
I must have gotten a little louder than I thought. Both boys rouse from deep sleep. Em and Rose go out to the car, Rose smiling a little brighter. Jas stays behind to say goodbye at the door.
"You're comin' tomorrow night?" He slips his hands around my waist to rest on the top of my ass.
"Yeah. Were you listening to us?" I can't resist reaching up and playing with the hair curling around his collar.
"Well, I wanted to see if you were goin' to play nice," he smirks.
"Who? Me?" I ask innocently, pressing myself tightly against his sweater clad chest.
"Both of you. You never can tell with Rose."
"I can be sweet."
"Oh, believe me, I remember just how sweet you are," he growls, bending to kiss me. His growl. Damn. It just does things to me. And so do his lips, and teeth, and tongue. His hands aren't lazy, either. It's getting heated, and we're breathing hard, and he's pushing me into the door, and-
"Bella? Hey, has J left? Oops! Oh, shit. I'm sorry." We hear Seth stomping quickly back up the stairs and break apart. We hug for a moment and pause to catch our breath.
"This no sleepovers rule sucks, Babe. Just sayin'."
"I completely agree."
"Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," I tell him, with more than one promise in the meaning. By the look in his eyes, I'm going to assume he caught it.
"Night, Babe. Happy Thanksgiving." One more quick kiss.
"Good night. I love you," I tell him, grabbing a kiss of my own.'
"Mmm, I love you, too." Nothing quick about this kiss. Well, until the horn blares, and he's out the door.
A/N: So, that's Thanksgiving. Shopping with Rose, the gig, and the NYC send off are next. Give me some love! School's starting soon and I need cheering up. LOL