Chapter 29 – The Gymnastics Meet.

"Oww! You're hurting me!" Daisy squirms on the chair in front of me.

"Hold still!" A hank of Daisy's hair slips through my fingers as I try and pull the recalcitrant strands back into the high ponytail she wants. "Damnit!"

"You keep pulling! It's too tight!"

"It has to be tight or it'll fall out," I snap, gathering up the dropped hair and attempting to smooth it back in to place.

"You said Alice would be here to do my hair. She knows how to do it," Daisy sniffs tragically.

"She was going to be here – their flight was delayed. But she and Jasper will be at the gym to watch you. And please try and cut me some slack. I'm doing the best I can here!" I wrap the elastic band around the ponytail and step back.

"It's all lumpy and bumpy!" Daisy says hysterically, running her hands frantically over her head. "I can feel it! You did it all wrong…it's terrible!"

I fling my hands up in frustration. "Well, I'm not a hairdresser! I can try again, but…"

"No! You're horrible at doing hair!" Daisy bursts into tears and runs out of the room.

I briefly consider strangling her with her own (crappy) ponytail. But there's a big gymnastics meet on today and she's nervous, and I have to admit she's also not completely wrong about my hairdressing skills. A basic pigtail, a plait? Got it down. The perfect bun she wants for her gymnastics meet? Not so much. I've watched enough YouTube tutorials that I can recite the instructions in my sleep, but somehow actually doing it never seems to work out quite so well.

"Dad, can I have some more toast?" Noah trails into the kitchen holding a crumb covered plate and his Banky.

"What? No, we've got to go." I look at him in consternation, realising he's still in his pyjamas. "You're supposed to be dressed!"

"But I'm still hungry," he whines.

"You can eat a piece of fruit in the car, just go and get dressed!" A blood curdling scream rings out, and I leave Noah staring sulkily at the fruit bowl and bolt into the living room to see what the latest crisis is.

Bram and Zeke are a squalling pile of infuriated toddler as they fight over a toy car that looks no different to the other four hundred cars scattered across the rug. Zeke manages to yank it away as I reach for them, and then with a frustrated shriek Bram wrestles him back to the ground and sinks his teeth in.

"Bram, no!" In the sudden silence I haul him away and gather up Zeke, whose eyes are just about bugging out of his head in agony and whose mouth is opening and closing like a goldfish as he tries to draw in enough breath to scream. When he finally lets go it sounds like a train whistle. Not that I blame him. Bram might only have nine – no, actually ten now - teeth, but the outline of every single one of them is imprinted deeply into the soft flesh of his brother's rosy cheek. "Fucking hell!"

I carry the screaming baby into the bathroom and grab a face washer, soaking it in cold water and holding it to his face. This is not the first time this has happened. In the last couple of weeks they've both discovered the power of teeth – and not in a good way. Bram has bruises on his back from where Zeke attacked him in the bath, and the teeth marks now imprinted on Zeke's cheek are joining several similar marks on his plump little arms.

"No!" I say sternly to Bram, who has followed me in and is wailing too. "You've got to stop doing that!"

Bram keeps howling and grabbing at my jeans, and eventually I relent and sit down on the step stool and let him climb up onto my lap. I know they're too young to really understand what they're doing. And even if they're the one that caused it, seeing their brother distressed always leads to an equal level of upset for the other one.

"This is crazy," I mutter, peeling the face washer off and inspecting Zeke's wounds as his sobs start dying down. The tooth marks are dark purple, but I don't think the skin is broken. "You look like you've been attacked by a rabid dog…am I supposed to muzzle you both?"

"Daddy!" Daisy appears in the doorway, her face blotchy with crying and her hair still hanging loose down her back. "No one is ready and we have to GO. I'm going to be late!"

"We're not…oh shit!" I push the little twins off my lap and clamber to my feet. "Noah, are you dressed yet? Mac? We've got to go!" I hurry into the living room and switch off the tv, hustling both big boys up the stairs despite their complaints. "Come on, come on…I don't care, just get dressed!"

"Holly smells. And Bram and Zeke are still in the bathroom and they're pulling out all the tissues and making a giant mess." Daisy follows me around whining. "Daddddyyyy…I'm going to miss the warm ups…"

"Daisy-bug, you're really not helping," I say through gritted teeth, dragging the two giggling toddlers out of the bathroom where they're flinging handfuls of tissues up in the air and laughing hysterically. "Get your gym bag ready or do some warm ups or something."

"My bag's ready," Daisy scowls. "I'm ALL ready, except for my hair which is a MESS because YOU can't do good hair…"

"Fine, fine, I suck, we all know that…pick up the tissues for me then, while I get everything else ready!"

Without waiting for any more complaints or accusations I leave Daisy standing ankle deep in drifts of Kleenex and drag the two little twins into their room for clean diapers and sweaters. "There you are, go and try not to get into trouble, or eat each other for five minutes…Mac! Noah! Are you ready?" I yell up the stairs as I go to the kitchen, swearing at myself as I realise that there aren't any bottles made up in the fridge. I grab some clean ones out of the dishwasher and start packing up the diaper bag, then change Holly's diaper, shouting at Mac and Noah to get on their sneakers and find coats. By the time I've got everyone packed into the car we're running at least twenty minutes behind and Daisy is practically hysterical.

"I'll drop you off out front," I tell her. "Run in and ask someone to do your hair, I'll find a parking space and then we'll be in to watch you."

Daisy sniffs and wipes her eyes on her sleeve, and I wish I could just drop her off and go home for a nap. It's not going to happen though, so I simply stop the van at the front of the gym so that Daisy can jump out. I have to drive two blocks away before I find a parking space. I then attach Holly to my front in the baby carrier, strap the little twins into the double stroller, fill the basket with diaper bags and snacks and toys, and drag the whole lot into the gym while Mac and Noah trail along behind me asking can they get candy and what about a coke and will they get to play on anything and why did we even have to come anyway? We eventually get to the gym and search until we find a seat over to the side where there's space to park the stroller, and where I'm somehow going to have to keep the whole circus quiet and contained for the hours the gymnastics meet will take and somehow still manage to watch Daisy do each event with enough focus that I'll be able to talk to her about her performances when it's all done.

Some days I really hate my life.

At least Holly is asleep on my chest by the time we're settled in. She's lost a sock somewhere between the car and our seat and I dig through the bag until I find another one to cover her cold toes. I hand apples to the two little boys to keep them quiet and happy in the stroller for as long as possible, tell Mac and Noah that there isn't any candy and if they're hungry they can have fruit too and stop complaining, and then scan the room for Daisy. I eventually find her on the sidelines, her coach briskly pulling her hair up into a perfect bun and then gluing it in place with a generous spray of the glitter hairspray that all the girls are so keen on. She sees me looking at her and waves and blows kisses, obviously having forgiven me for the disaster of the morning and getting her here late. I give her a thumbs up and I slump back onto my seat with a sigh.

"Emmett, there you are! Where's Daisy? Did we miss her?" Alice, talking a million miles an hour, appears at my shoulder and wraps me in a strangling hug. "Oh, it's so good to see you all! Sorry we're so late, the flight…and we had trouble with the hire car and then we had to park absolutely miles away, why don't you go to a gym that has parking? And…oh my god, what happened to that baby's face?"

"Hey you." I hug her back, and nod to Jasper as he leans against the wall beside the stroller. "It's all right, Daisy hasn't started yet. You're just in time– she's in the line up over by the beam."

"Oh, there she is…you finally figured out how to do her hair, good job. Go Daisy!" Alice shouts, waving frantically.

Daisy sees her and waves back, jumping up and down and grinning. She looks happy and confident as she salutes the judges and uses the springboard to mount the beam, but she's having an off day and falls twice and then stumbles back several steps on her dismount. Even from the stands I can see the way her brows lower in fierce disappointment with herself, but she shrugs it off and skips off to the mat for a hug from her coach.

"That's too bad," Alice says. "She started so well." She reaches out and unstraps Zeke from the stroller, lifting him onto her lap and blowing raspberries into his neck to make him giggle. "What happened to you, kiddo?"

"He and Bram keep biting each other," I say, unsnapping Bram who isn't happy to be trapped in the stroller while his brother is free. "I'm really glad you could make it."

I swing Bram onto my lap, hearing Holly's sleepy protesting squeak from in between us as he knees her in the back. He stands on my thighs and babbles into my face, then looks past me with a smile. "An-ya!"

I swing my head around and see Angela approaching. "He said your name!" I say in surprise. "Or at least made a pretty good attempt. Did you hear that?"

Angela's face curves into a delighted grin. "I did! I thought maybe I heard him say it the other day, but I wasn't sure…that was so clear though!" She leans forward and kisses Bram's cheek. "Hi munchkin."

"I didn't know you were coming," I say.

"Daisy asked me to…is that okay?" Angela glances over at Alice and Jasper and looks suddenly uncertain. "I don't want to barge in on your family time or anything."

"No no, I didn't mean that!" I say hastily.

The truth is I'm relieved to see her. I've got an infant, two toddlers and two six-year-olds that I'm supposed to keep corralled, quiet and content for the next few hours and the more hands I have on deck to help me the better. Holly can't go anywhere, but she's still going to need feeding, changing and rocking back to sleep. Bram and Zeke need all that too, plus they're at an age where they're nothing but a liability to take out in public. I take my eyes off them for second and they're either running away or licking the floor or pickpocketing or something equally unsociable. Noah and Mac aren't quite as bad but they can't really be left to their own devices. Without people to help me I can't even go and pee. Between Alice, Jasper and Angela (and Esme when she arrives) I might even be able to actually watch Daisy, which is what I've ostensibly come here to do.

"The more the merrier…I'm glad you came," I say. "I could have given you a ride or something. Well actually, probably not, this morning was a complete shit-fest and we were late…" Bram is stretching his arms towards Angela, and when she holds out her hands I swing him up over my shoulder and pass him over to her. "I don't know if you guys have met, this is Alice and Jasper, and this is Angela."

Jasper nods, but Alice pushes Zeke at me and jumps out of her seat and bear hugs Angela. "I've heard all about you!" she says enthusiastically. "From Bella, and Mom says you're a godsend. It's so nice to finally meet you!"

"Oh thanks," Angela says, slightly bemused. "It's nice to meet you too." Her eyes are caught by Zeke's mauled face and she winces. "Dracula baby been at it again?"

"Yeah. But as you can see by the forensic evidence he left behind, his second molar has come through." I look ruefully at the purple bitemark bruise that's dominating Zeke's face. "Take a seat, you've only missed Daisy on the beam. She didn't do that well, but it's usually her worst event so she's only going to get better from here."

I repeat this to Daisy when she slouches over to us on the break.

"I bombed so badly," she mutters.

"But you got back up and kept going," I say bracingly. "You've still got your favourite events to come, and you're going to knock it out of the park."

"I'm not playing baseball," she says, with eight-year-old pedantry, but she's smiling at me as she climbs up on Jasper's lap and wraps her arms around his neck and sounds much more cheerful as she adds, "I'm glad you're all here to watch me – hopefully I don't mess up again and I can show you what I can do. I'm heaps better than the last time you came to a meet!"

And she does give us something to watch, because my firstborn baby girl is amazing. Her vault is solid, she flies on the uneven bars, and her floor routine ends with some of the strongest applause of the day. Daisy is one of the smallest ones competing today, all spider limbs and wrinkled leotard on her skinny little frame, and this is a club meet where most of the people know her story and feel sorry for her, but it's more than that. Her smile is a mile wide as she moves across the floor, and she has the kind of charisma that makes people want to watch her. No one is surprised when she medals twice, with a silver on bars and a gold on floor.

I'm the first one down on the side of the mats at the end of the medal presentations, ready to catch her up in my arms and congratulate her. I don't even care that people are watching as I grab her and toss her up high before I hug her too me almost too tightly. I love you so much kiddo. "You were amazing! I'm so proud of you!"

Daisy hugs me back, the medals hung around her neck jammed in between us. "I can't believe it!"

"You deserve it little bug," I tell her. "You've been training really hard, and today it paid off. I loved watching you – we all did! And I'm so, so proud…"

My voice trails off. I just wish your mom was here to see you too. She loved you so much, and she would have been so proud of you today too – I wish more than anything that she was here, pulling you out of my arms so she could have a turn to congratulate you too, because it's not the same without her here. Nothing is the same…

I bite back the words. Because right now, Daisy is happy. Triumphant, and basking in admiration as I let her down and she runs over to the family for more hugs and kisses and congratulations as she shows off her medals. I can't do or say anything to dim the light in her face. I can't let her know that her golden moment is pouring salt into the wounds I bear so deep, because once again I'm celebrating it alone. It's another moment that Rosalie has missed.

I miss you Rosa-girl.

"Are you okay?" Angela speaks up quietly at my elbow. She's rocking a sleeping Zeke in her arms, swaying slightly, and her eyes on mine are kind.

"On yeah, I'm fine! She did so great, I'm so proud, I'm so…" I break off my inane babbling and finish savagely, "I wish Rosalie was here. I hate that she's missing this too…I hate that I can't just enjoy Daisy's moment without feeling like I want to break things in a fucking stupid rage because I can't accept that this is my life now. Rosalie should still be here."

"I'm sorry," Angela says simply. "It's really not fair."

"Yeah…it's really not." And the rage drains away, leaving behind an ache of regret that's maybe only a little easier to live with. "But I don't want Daisy to feel it, not now. She did great – I want her to be happy. I want today to be about her achievements for once, not about what she's lost."

Angela nods. "It is – look at her. She's happy Emmett."

I look over at Daisy, sitting on Alice's lap and giggling as she hangs one of her medals around Holly's neck, and for a brief moment the heartache eases. She's happy. Whatever else, today…she's happy.

"Thanks," I say to Angela. "Really. Thanks for coming today and thanks for…thanks." It's inarticulate and almost meaningless, and yet I know that she understands. I grin at her and turn back towards Daisy and the rest of my family, ready to smile and celebrate like we're still whole. Because, maybe just for today…we are.