Mom food

Disclaimer:All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's note: Much of the end of this narrative is done, but I'm still struggling with the intervening bits. Here's something to keep you "fed" while I work on the more substantial part of this story. This is mostly pure fluff, but culinarily appreciative fluff. My kind of fluff. Enjoy.


Alice had clearly had Charlie wrapped around her little finger since forever, but Bella had underestimated Esme's capacity in this department.

"Wow," she whispered, looking at the 'leftovers' Esme had dropped off. The main course was an epicurean lasagne, which bubbled seductively in the pan that she had just pulled from the oven.

"Esme's something else," Charlie said, pulling the equally 'leftover' salad from the fridge. "What are these?" he asked, peering at the side of the tupperware.

"Artichoke hearts," she said, "and...I'm not sure," looking at the mix of other, finely diced items. Charlie had opened it by this point, "smells amazing, though," she said, sniffing appreciatively.

Settling down to the most gourmet meal their table had ever seen, Charlie further extolled Esme's virtues, and consumed her food with gusto.

Bella listened in semi-awed silence—by the words, and also by the food. It was amazing.

Taking a stab at another piece of heaven-on-earth-lasagne, Bella decided to test the persuasive powers of Esme's cooking. "So, what did you guys talk about?" she asked.

She had a pretty good idea, already, from the quality of the food.

Charlie's expression darkened slightly.

Bingo, she thought. I was right.

He took another bite though, and the expression disappeared with an enthusiastic "mmmm."

Charlie had, since finding out they were engaged, offered the barest, most begrudging hospitality to Edward, possible, and Edward had endured it with a grace that put Charlie's hard-heartedness to shame.

Esme had clearly intervened in the hopes of softening Charlie up.

Watching him from across the table, he looked like a puddle of melted butter.

"So?" she asked, taking a bite of salad.

Charlie sighed, putting his fork down. "Well," he started, "she actually came to talk about you...two."

"Oh?" she said, innocently.

"They're worried about you two getting married so young." He looked at her, "which they're clearly not alone in," he grumbled.

Bella's eyebrows furrowed.

"But," he said, taking another bite, and closing his eyes momentarily, "we also talked about how we'd rather be there for you, than drive you away."

She felt a guilty stab at these words, and was surprised by the emotion that swept up her face.

Charlie simply looked at her, and then back at his food.

"She...cares a lot about you," he said softly. "Was concerned about this being too much, too soon. But.." he trailed off.

"What?" Bella asked, genuinely curious.

"I think," he said cautiously, "you can handle it."

She looked at him, closing her mouth when she realised it was open.

"Not that I think it's a good idea," he added hurriedly, "but you've always been so mature, for your age."

Bella continued to stare.

"Anyway," Charlie continued, "I think Esme felt better about things, after we talked." He picked up his fork again, appreciative sounds escaping him between bites.

Bella had a whole new level of respect of Esme.

They finished dinner, and when Charlie went to the fridge again, Bella wondered why. He couldn't possibly be hungry after the two heaping servings he'd had.

"She brought cherry cheesecake, too," he said, his voice soft and reverent.

And Bella's estimation, of Esme, was replete.

As were their appetites.