Stolen Dreams
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I am the proud owner of a new set of pots and pans and a scale.
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the outtake—my Christmas present to you. Here's a new chapter. It's the last one for this year and I hope you enjoy it! Thank you to all who take the time to read and those who review each week. May your new year be full of blessings and cheer.
Thank you to Jenny Cullen for her awesome beta skills!
Chapter 17
The ball park in Port Angeles was packed. Five fields, each for different age ranges, were scattered about. With two teams on each one and other teams waiting to play, it was almost impossible to pick out one group from another. I also had no idea how the players were supposed to know where to go.
"They play on the same field every time," Edward explained. "That field over there is for T-ball. That one is for fourteen and up. The other three split between softball, twelve and under, ten and under, and eight and under."
I just stared at him. "That helps us how?"
He rolled his eyes at me. "Well, we know he's not on one of those two fields, now don't we?"
A set of parents in red shirts like the ones we'd seen a few weeks before hurried from the window of the concession stand. I pointed them out to Edward, and we followed them to the far field, where the Red Devils were already on the field. The bleachers were practically full; the only space left was next to the Cullens. Esme waved at us to come up and patted the seat beside her.
"We saved it for you. The kids have to be here thirty minutes early, so all the parents are, too. It's murder to get a decent seat if you come at game time," she said, leaning over to give me a hug.
"Thanks, we'll have to remember that." My eyes scanned the field until I found Ryan throwing with another boy in the outfield. "What are the plans for after the game again?" I asked.
Esme sighed. "There's this pizza place here in Port Angeles that has terrible pizza, but an entire arcade full of games. Most of his teammates are coming and a few friends from the community center. It promises to be a zoo. Afterwards, we'll go back to the house. The rest of the family should be there around four. I wouldn't blame you one bit if you skipped the first part," she added in an undertone.
I laughed. "As . . . insane . . . as it sounds like it'll be, there's no way I'm missing it. For us, this is his first birthday party . . ." I trailed off as my emotions threatened to choke me again. And I thought I'd been doing so well this morning.
Esme patted my leg and gave me a sad smile. "When you come back to the house, I'll get out the photo albums. I know it's not the same, but at least we have that."
"That would be great." I blinked back tears and did my best to smile for her. "I'll warn you, though," I said, trying to sound more upbeat. "We went a little overboard, I think."
She laughed. "I'm sure you did! Don't feel bad. Carlisle and I do it every year—birthdays and Christmas. We always say we're going to limit ourselves to this much stuff or a certain amount, and it never happens."
Her reassurance did make me feel a little better, I had to admit. I also suspected that she'd known we would and had gone a little overboard herself so as not to be outdone by the interloping real parents. Showering Ryan with more affection and letting him know how much both sets of parents loved him was important, but competing with each other wasn't going to be the answer. It was something I feared we would eventually have to discuss.
Once the game started, all my worries about how best to raise Ryan went right out the window. We jumped up and down and cheered like the rest of the parents. Each small victory was met with enthusiasm, and each blunder with a groan. Unfortunately, the groans were more common. I wasn't sure what Ryan was thinking about; I just knew it wasn't baseball. Time and time again in the first two innings, the ball flew right by him with only a half hearted attempt by him to catch it.
After the end of the second inning, Edward was grinding his teeth in frustration. "I'll be right back," he muttered.
With concern, I watched him step down the bleachers and stalk over to the dugout. Ryan was throwing his glove on the bench when Edward walked up to the fencing.
"What does he think he's doing?" Carlisle muttered, outraged. He moved to get up, but Esme laid a hand on his leg to stop him. She shook her head, and he retook his seat with a huff.
Ryan's head snapped up to see Edward, and his face transformed. Gone was the moody, angry kid from seconds ago, and in his place stood a kid with a huge grin. He told Edward something and fist bumped him through the wire. I couldn't hear what Edward was saying, but Ryan's brow furrowed in concentration, and he nodded along to whatever Edward said. Just before he smashed the batting helmet on, Ryan said something and nodded again.
"What was that about?" I asked when Edward made it back up to our seats. Ryan was still on deck.
"He didn't think we were here," Edward whispered, leaning close so that only I could hear him. "He was disappointed and let it interfere with his game. I just made sure he knew we were watching and reminded him of the things we worked on last week."
As I watched Ryan take his stance in the batter's box, I pondered what Edward had just told me. For some reason, I had thought that knowing that we never wanted to give him up would be comforting to Ryan. I never thought that he would have abandonment issues to deal with. Counseling for us all as a blended family and just for Ryan might be another thing we would have to face in the coming weeks.
Facing a full count, I watched with bated breath as Ryan's arms extended. The crack of the ball smacking into the metal of the bat reverberated off the mats behind the ump. A plume of dirt kicked up as Ryan's bat hit the ground. I tried to watch both the ball, which was bouncing around deep in the outfield, and my son, whose long legs were carrying him to second as fast as he could go. The third base coach motioned him on, and with only a short pause, Ryan kept running the bases. He was halfway to third when the ball sailed in from the outfield. Behind him, the short stop caught it and ran after him. When the short stop was close enough to ensure the third baseman wouldn't drop it, he lobbed the ball to the kid standing on the bag.
Ryan slid feet first as the third baseman's glove, filled with the ball, lowered. Everyone paused as the glove hit Ryan on his hip. There was no sound in the bleachers as we waited for the ump's ruling.
Two arms flung out to the sides. "Safe!"
The cheer that rose from the crowd was practically deafening after the silence that had pervaded my mind since Ryan had hit the bat. His teammates were chanting, and Esme and I were jumping up and down, clapping. She threw her arms around me and squeezed.
"He did it! He got a triple!" she crowed.
My face was stuck in a permanent grin.
The next batter stepped up to the plate, and we quieted instantly so as not to interfere with his concentration. Once we were seated again, I turned to Esme.
"Has he ever done that before?"
"Hit a triple? No." She shook her head. "He got a double once on an overthrow, but that's the most he's ever gotten in one swing."
Our conversation was cut short by the batter, Lauren's son, Caleb, hitting a single that brought Ryan home. He hive-fived each of his teammates as he strutted back into the dugout, and the coach ruffled his hair as the helmet came off.
The Astros were good, but the Red Devils edged them out eight to seven in the final inning. Even though they hadn't had a winning season, the boys could barely be contained as the coach pulled them in to talk to them, before setting them free. When he did, they scattered, running around like crazy until their parents reined them in.
"Best birthday ever," Ryan declared with a smirk reminiscent of his father's when he joined the four of us.
"That good, huh?" Carlisle asked, his eyes twinkling as he gazed at Ryan. "Better than the year we went to Disneyland?"
Ryan hesitated and bit his lip. "Eh . . . yeah. I think so. But Disneyland was cool. We can go back anytime," he added hastily.
Carlisle and Esme laughed. "You should have seen him," Esme told me. "We took him for his sixth birthday, because he was finally tall enough to ride everything. Between Space Mountain and meeting Mickey Mouse, I thought his face was going to freeze in a permanent grin."
I imagined it my mind and sighed. We should have been there to see it, although the likelihood of us being able to afford such a trip at the time was slim.
Ryan groaned and yanked on Esme hand. "Let's go. Everyone is going to beat us there."
"They aren't going to run out of pizza, Ry," Carlisle chided gently. "Edward, Bella, why don't you follow us so you can leave when you're ready?"
Every time the man opened his mouth, my hackles raised. Did he really think we were going to take off in the middle of our son's party?
Edward clenched his teeth and forced himself to smile. "That sounds like a good plan. This is my car here, so we'll meet you over there."
Ryan looked like he was about to say something, but he caught sight of Edward's and Carlisle's faces and closed his mouth. He gave them an odd look, and then turned away, staring across the parking lot. It concerned me.
Carlisle turned away from Edward and began walking across the lot without another word. Edward swung into the driver's seat and started the car; I hadn't even gotten my door closed.
"That's going to be a problem," I sighed, stroking Edward's hand as it rested on his gearshift.
"Yeah, I know. I just don't know what to do about it," Edward said sadly. "He acts like I'm horning in all these things that he's always done with Ryan. The thing is, I know for a fact that Carlisle never plays ball with him. He might come watch sometimes, but Bella, that glove hadn't been used more than a few times. It was brand new."
I thought back over what I knew about Carlisle Cullen. "I don't think it's baseball, specifically. I get the feeling that Carlisle works a lot, so he only has a little free time to spend with his son. Like today, he took off for Ryan's game and the parties, but now he has to share that limited time and attention with you."
"That's never going to change—at least, not for the better," Edward protested.
"I know, but that doesn't make it any easier," I said gently. "He feels like he's being replaced." I was doing my best to soothe him before we arrived at the pizza place, because I didn't want anything to spoil Ryan's birthday, but inside, I agreed with him that Carlisle was just going to have to get over it.
The pizza place wasn't far from the ball field. I supposed they probably saw a lot of business after Saturday games, judging by the swelling tide of kids and harried-looking parents surging toward the door. They couldn't possibly all be here for Ryan's party.
If I thought it was bad outside, it was almost deafening inside. Bells and sirens rang out from the arcade room, televisions droned from the various eating areas—all playing cartoons—and children ran from one end of the place to the other. Edward and I stood there, staring at the bedlam and the pizza buffet line. The lady at the cash register in front of us cleared her throat to get our attention.
"How many?" she asked in a bored tone.
"Uh, what?" I said, startling out of my daze.
She sighed and popped her gum. "How many are in your party?"
I had no idea what the answer to that question was. For all I knew, it could be fifty people. Just as I was about to answer, Esme pushed through the crowd in front of us and laid her hand on my shoulder. "They're part of the Cullen party."
"Oh, okay," the girl answered, bored. She took our names and marked them off a list she had next to the register. We followed Esme through the crowd to a room near the back that was blocked off and marked "Cullen Birthday."
A large table along the back wall was set up with balloons, and a party favor bag was next to each plate. Several parents were seated at tables along the side. A couple of kids reentered the room and took their seats along the long table. Esme took us over to the table that Carlisle was already sitting at and motioned for us to sit.
"You can sit here with us if you like. The buffet is all-you-can-eat, so have whatever you want. We'll eat first, do cake, ice cream and presents, and then release the kids to the arcade," Esme informed us.
I set my purse in the chair and went with Edward to the buffet line. They had almost every type of pizza that I could imagine. Surveying the selection, I threw three pieces on my plate and filled one of the cups by the soda machine with a Diet Coke. I grabbed a Mountain Dew for Edward. He picked it up from me before we returned to the room together.
Ryan had come back into the party room while we were getting our food. "Bella," he yelled, scooting his chair back from the table and leaping up to come over to me. He threw his arms around me in a big hug.
"Hey, kiddo," I said with a smile while I hugged him back. "Happy Birthday."
"Thanks! Hey, come meet my friends." He grabbed my hand and Edward's and pulled us across the room to the large table. One by one, he rattled off the names of the kids sitting there. Then, he introduced us. "This is Bella and Edward."
"Dude, he looks just like you," the boy Ryan had introduced as Jimmy said.
Ryan shrugged. "He's my real dad."
"Cool," Trent, another one of the kids, said. He shoved a slice of pizza in his mouth. That was the only reaction any of the kids gave. It was almost as if most of them already knew . . . or just didn't care.
I ruffled his hair as he sat back down, and we returned to our table. Carlisle's jaw was twitching, but he didn't look up from his food.
"Thanks for letting us be here," I told both him and Esme, trying to extend an olive branch.
Esme started to say something, but Carlisle cut her off, talking low enough so that no one else could hear. "For some reason, he wants you here. That's the only reason you were invited. You've come into his life, being the 'fun parents,' with no responsibilities to him whatsoever. You have no idea what it means to be a parent, but you take the title. You don't deserve it."
I plastered a polite smile on my face and lowered my voice as well. "We haven't been his parents for the last ten years because our son was stolen from us. In case you don't remember, you bought a stolen baby. We want those responsibilities, and we always have. I carried him in my womb, and I gave birth to him. I may not remember his first steps or his last birthday, but by God, I want the rest of them. You don't have to like it, Carlisle. We aren't here to fight you or replace you as the man that has raised him. We're here to know him and love him. If you can't accept that, we're going to have a real problem, and it's Ryan that will suffer."
The color drained from Carlisle's face as I spoke.
"Now," I continued, "we can work together and let Ryan grow up knowing that he has two sets of parents that love him dearly, or we can fight about it and act like five-year-olds arguing whose toy he is."
"You're right; I know you're right," Carlisle said. "But you're trying to take my son away from me. How would you feel if our situations were reversed?"
Edward gave him a sad smile. "I do know how you feel, man. Ryan was stolen from me, and I have to listen to him call you 'Dad' every time I see him. I know that you are the one that has raised him, and you've done a good job, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt every time he calls me Edward."
"I didn't think of it that way," Carlisle conceded, and then looked at me. "I can't promise perfection, but I'll try."
"That's all I can ask," I responded.
Ryan broke the moment by yelling out behind us when someone threw a piece of pepperoni at him.
"Boys," Esme warned loud enough to stop Ryan from retaliating.
"Sorry, Mom," Ryan called without turning his head.
"Yeah, sorry, Mrs. Cullen," two of the other boys chimed in together.
She chuckled and shook her head with a smile. The heaviness of a few minutes before was broken, and we dissolved into polite conversation while we ate. Esme told us about who we could expect to attend the party at their house later and what she knew about the boys at the party and their parents. Edward and I were able to supply some information, as many of them were older siblings to the kids we'd grown up with.
The kids were starting to get restless, when Esme brought out the cake. Proudly, Edward and I sang along with everyone else and watched as Ryan blew out his candles. It was one of the most magical moments in my life. I wasn't sure what he'd wished for, but Ryan beamed at us as he blew out all ten candles in one breath.
While Esme cut the cake, I scooped the ice cream. We weren't even finished dishing it out to the parents when the kids announced they were done and were ready to go play video games. Carlisle and Edward both set their cake aside and followed Ryan into the arcade at the end of the hall.
Once all the plates were thrown away and the leftover cake and ice cream re-stored in her freezer bags, Esme and I sat back down heavily at our table and each gave a deep sigh.
"Can I tell you how glad I am that Edward is in there instead of me?" she laughed.
"My God, I know!" I exclaimed. "It's so loud in here, I can't imagine how deafening it is in there. But wouldn't Carlisle have gone anyway?"
Esme rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, but they need a judge, you know. If they are competing, who is going to decide which one did better?" Her voice was laden with sarcasm.
"The points on the machines?" I asked cluelessly.
"It's not good enough," she informed me. "I never could figure out where he got his competitive streak from. Neither Carlisle nor I are."
"Edward," we said together, and laughed as the man in question walked into the room with Ryan beside him, arguing about who had the better score in some game they'd played.
"Mom, can I have some more money?" Ryan asked as they got closer. "I ran out of tokens."
I looked incredulously at Edward, wondering why he hadn't just taken care of it.
"Oh no you don't, little man," Edward scolded. "You not only spent your tokens, but both your dad and I gave you an additional five dollars each. Don't go asking your moms for more money—you've had enough."
"But Edward . . ." Ryan whined.
Edward just gave him a stern look. Ryan huffed and flopped in his chair, pouting. Carlisle stood behind the pair, smirking.
"Can I open my presents now?" Ryan asked after a minute had passed.
Esme nodded. "Let me get everyone back in here, and we'll do that so everyone can go home. We should have done it before you went in there." She disappeared through the door and came back in, leading a pack of hyped up boys.
Ryan changed seats so that everyone in the room could see what he opened. The pile of presents sat next to him. I grabbed a sheet of paper from my purse and carefully recorded who had given what. There were action figures, clothes, a skateboard, a couple of gift cards, a new ball glove, and a few Lego sets. Ryan accepted each one as graciously as any ten-year-old and shouted a loud "thank you" when he was finished.
His friends said goodbye minutes later, and we loaded up all of his gifts, the dessert, and a thoroughly hyper Ryan back into the Cullens' car.
"You guys are coming to the house, right?" Ryan asked, slightly panicked, as if afraid we were going to disappear. "It's my family party tonight."
"Yes, Ryan," I reassured him—again. "We're following you there."
Only then did he let us go.
Edward filled me in on all the games they'd played in the forty minutes they'd spent in the arcade. He and Carlisle shared the playing and judging duties. Ryan didn't seem to mind which of them did what, as long as they both were there. That seemed to have reassured Carlisle more than anything, and Edward said that by the time they left the room, he was laughing and joking with Edward like they were old friends.
We pulled in behind the Cullens when we got to the house and took everything into the house. Ryan carried all of his presents up to his room. When he came back down, I called him into the kitchen and handed him the list I'd made.
"This is what each person got you. You need to take some time this week to send each person a thank you note," I told him.
"A what?" he asked.
My own mother hadn't been a model of propriety or manners, but this was something she'd insisted on every year, so it surprised me that he wasn't accustomed to doing it. "You need to write them a thank you note. Just something small to let them know you appreciated their gift, and in the case of the gift cards, what you plan to do with them."
His eyes cut over to Esme, as if to ask if he really had to do it.
She raised her eyebrow. "Ryan," she said warningly, "if Bella tells you to write thank you notes, you'll write thank you notes. It's the polite thing to do anyway."
He made a face, but reached for the list I still held and stuck it in his pocket. "Okay," he mumbled. "They won't be any good, but I'll do them."
"That's all I ask," I told him, kissing his forehead.
Ryan went outside where Carlisle and Edward were setting up some lawn chairs and a table for food. I returned to helping Esme with the cold dishes and the baked beans.
"I hope I didn't step on your toes," I said apologetically.
She smiled at me. "Not at all. I never thought about having him do it, but it's a good idea."
I shrugged. "My mom didn't do much, but that was something she insisted on. I think that part of it was that my dad and some people from around here would send me gifts every year, and it was too expensive to call and say thank you, so she had me write notes instead."
"Speaking of your dad, is he coming today?" she asked.
I shook my head. "He's actually in Seattle. There is some dispute over what they're going to do with Dr. Gerandy. Apparently, he left out a few felonies when he arranged his plea, and there is some dispute over whether they should let him plead out."
"What?" she asked, shocked. "Ryan was the only baby he arranged a false adoption for, right?"
"As far as we've been able to determine, yes, but the federal prosecutor said something about most people selling babies getting caught on only one offense. Since they can't prove the others, they aren't admissible in court proceedings, and he doesn't want this case to set a precedent for allowing them to get off easy," I told her.
"What a mess," she said. "Can you get the deviled eggs out of the refrigerator?" And just like that, we went back to work and lighter topics.
The Cullens' small family began arriving about twenty minutes later. Edward and I were introduced to Carlisle's parents, who lived about two hours south of Forks, Esme's parents, who were in from Sacramento for the rest of the weekend, and Esme's brother, Charles and his family, who were going to stay the night and go back to Portland the next day. It was a flurry of introductions, which bled straight into food.
Carlisle and Edward had set up the lawn chairs in a large circle around a fire pit, which Ryan declared was for roasting s'mores later. We all took our seats, mixing and mingling freely. Edward was talking to Charles on his right side, while I listened to Esme talk to her family on my left. Ryan was on the other side with his two older cousins, Christa and McKenna.
"I thought the friend party was this morning," Esme's mother said primly, but loud enough for her voice to carry across the circle.
"It was," Esme answered.
"Oh." Viola, Esme's mother looked like she'd swallowed a lemon and cast a glance at Edward and me. "Then, why are they here? This is only supposed to be for family."
My eyes closed, and I took a deep breath to calm myself. I didn't want to get into this on Ryan's birthday, but I wasn't going to sit here and take this woman declaring that I didn't belong at my son's birthday party.
"They are family," Ryan said decisively. "They're my parents."
Viola blinked, and Arthur, Esme's father, cleared his throat. "That's not a nice thing to say Ryan. Esme and Carlisle have been very good to you."
Ryan gave him a look that clearly said "duh." "Yeah, Mom and Dad are great. It's just that Edward and Bella are my parents, too."
No one else seemed surprised by this pronouncement, but all eyes were glued on the Carters.
Thankfully, Ryan seemed oblivious to the tension.
"It seems that we've missed something." Viola leveled her narrowed gaze at Esme. "Perhaps you would care to fill us in, Esme?"
"Later, Mother," Esme said shortly. "For now, it should be enough for you to know that Edward and Bella are Ryan's birth parents and are part of his life."
Viola didn't look happy about it, but she let it go after making it clear that Esme wouldn't get out of explaining later.
"You didn't tell them?" I asked a few minutes later when Esme and I found ourselves cleaning up alone in the kitchen.
Esme snorted. "You've met my mother now. Would you? She hasn't agreed with any decision I've made in the last fifteen years. Don't get me wrong, she loves Ryan, but she was very against us adopting in the first place."
"You're waiting for the 'I told you so,'" I surmised.
She rolled her eyes. "And the lectures that are sure to follow. Don't worry about it. Everyone else here knows, and they all think it's great." Esme patted me on the shoulder and gave me a sweet smile.
"Let's take this cake out there so Ryan can eat even more sugar tonight," she teased.
I laughed and lifted the cake with the now burning candles. Esme got the door for me and began singing the traditional song. As soon as Ryan heard the strains, he perked up. The rest of the family joined in—Charles was wildly off key, on purpose. It made his girls and Ryan giggle.
Once again, Ryan blew out all ten candles in one breath. He gave us all a huge grin, stuck his hand in the corner of the cake, and shoved it in his mouth. Edward took a picture while he laughed. It was like Ryan was unintentionally recreating his first birthday just for us.
This time, I cut the cake while Esme scooped ice cream. There were a lot less people this time, but the stack of presents piled in front of Ryan while he ate was considerably larger. Once he was finished, I gathered up the trash and stuffed it in one of the large industrial trash bags Carlisle had placed around the circle of chairs. Esme disappeared into the house and returned with a pad of paper and a pen. She winked at me and set the paper in her lap, ready to take notes.
Charles, Christina, and their girls had gotten Ryan some new clothes and a couple of books that he was excited about. Carlisle's parents gave him some dress clothes, an iTunes gift card, and an Old Navy gift card. The Carters gave him a Blu-ray player for his room and the entire Star Wars collection, including the Clone Wars movies to play in it. Ryan was over the moon for it and kept talking about how he couldn't wait to watch them.
Our gifts came next. As Edward suspected, the Lego sets were a huge hit. Ryan immediately informed Edward that he had to help him put them together when he came over. He seemed to like the clothes we got him, too, though those did garner less enthusiasm as expected. Alice and Jasper's card, as well as my father's, were still in my purse, so I ran inside to get them while Ryan picked up the Millennium Falcon box and inspected it closely with Edward, Carlisle, and Charles.
"We can talk about my dad's gift later," I said with a wince to Esme when I returned.
"Okay . . ." She gave me an odd look, but I was sure she would understand when he opened the card.
Edward had to explain to Ryan who Alice and Jasper were when he opened the card, but he just seemed happy to have more money to spend on music, not really caring where it came from.
I laid my hand on Edward's arm to stop him from handing over Dad's card. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the discussion that would follow didn't need to have an audience. He nodded in understanding and sat back to allow Carlisle to hand over their gifts.
The usual clothes and books followed as Ryan tore open the brightly colored packages. He did get excited about two of the video games he opened, but the Cullens' "going overboard" was in the last package of the night. As Ryan ripped off the paper, his eyes widened to small saucers.
"This is so cool," he breathed, lifting the smartphone from its packaging. "It's the one I saw when you got your new phone, Dad. It's awesome."
"Yes, well," Carlisle said while he rubbed his neck nervously, "you have unlimited text messaging and you can get on the internet, but you can only call those people we've programmed in. If you want to add a friend, you'll have to have Mom or me add them to the phonebook."
"Thanks, Dad!" Ryan jumped up from his chair and hugged Carlisle hard. Then, he practically bounced over to Esme and pinned her in her chair with his body as he threw his arms around her neck.
She grunted from the force he'd hit her with, but her smile said it all. I had no doubt that she loved Ryan with her whole heart, and I was sure that if it hadn't been able to be me that raised him, I was glad it was her.
Eventually, Ryan stood and returned to his chair, his eyes never leaving the screen of his phone. "Look, they programmed you and Bella in here, too," Ryan commented to Edward as he showed off his new toy.
Even Uncle Charles scooted close so he could see what was on the screen.
"I think it's wonderful that you all are trying to be part of his life," an unfamiliar voice said beside me as I cleaned up the trash around the food table.
I turned my head and smiled at Christina.
"Thank you," I said, trying not to make it come out as a question.
"Es told me what happened," she said, now lending a hand in covering the food containers that still had food in them. "I just can't believe anyone would do that to a new mother. It's awful!"
I nodded. "It was pretty awful. I'm just glad that Fate intervened and brought him back to us."
She smiled. "He's a good kid."
"Yes, he is," I agreed. We both watched him silently for a moment, before I sighed and returned to my task.
Christina helped me take the dishes into the kitchen, where Esme was in deep conversation with her parents. Christina and I exchanged a glance, before darting back outside. As soon as we were clear of the doors, Christina started laughing.
"Can you say awkward?" she joked, making me laugh as well. "Seriously, I love my in-laws—they're good people—but they have an opinion on everything. Mac wanted to work backstage on the school musical last year because the boy she liked was playing the lead, and Viola saw fit to tell her that all boys that were 'involved in theatre were homosexual and she should do something befitting her station.' Can you imagine? Mac's twelve years old."
I giggled. Somehow, I could see the older woman being pretentious enough to say that to her grandchild.
"Oh, wait," Carlisle said suddenly. "Ryan, there's another card for you on the table by the phone. I'm not sure who it's from, though."
Ryan ran in the house, still clutching his new phone, and ran back out a few seconds later with his nose wrinkled. His gaze alternated between the envelope in front of him and the kitchen door behind him.
"What is it, buddy?" Edward asked, concerned by his expression.
He shrugged. "Grandma is yelling again. Who do we know in New York?"
I groaned and shot a look at Edward. He rolled his eyes and blew out a breath before answering, "My parents live in New York, Ryan."
"Wait . . . so does having four parents mean that I've got eight grandparents?" Ryan asked, his face lighting up with a manic gleam.
"Actually, Ryan, you have nine. My mom is remarried," I told him.
"Sweet!" he shouted.
"Trust the kid to find the silver lining," Carlisle's dad chuckled in his deep and rumbly voice.
Ryan wasn't paying attention, though. He was already ripping into the card. He spared a cursory glance at the words, before turning his attention to what was inside.
Quickly, I retrieved the list from where Esme had left it and wrote down the iTunes gift card that I could see. He stared curiously at the other item, but the light had fallen low enough that I couldn't see what it was.
"What are these?" Ryan finally asked.
"Those are baseball cards," Edward answered. "When I was your age, I collected them."
Ryan tore open the package and looked at each one in turn. "Hey, I got a Halladay card. That's cool."
Behind Ryan, Charles' two girls had poked their heads up at the sound of more presents, but quickly lost interest and returned to playing with their phones. Edward was giving Ryan ideas on how to store the cards, while I waited for Esme to return to the party.
A few minutes later, she stomped out the door, looking partly frustrated and partly pissed off. I could see her doing her best to collect herself before she got any closer to Ryan. "What did you get, Ry?" she asked, her voice deceptively calm.
"An iTunes card and some baseball cards from Grandma and Grandpa Masen," he said distractedly as he was still leafing through them.
I raised my eyebrows at Edward upon hearing the name, but he just shrugged.
"Have you given him the gift from Charlie yet?" Esme asked.
I shook my head. "I was waiting for you. There might be some logistics to work out." I leaned over and handed Dad's card to Ryan. "One last present."
Ryan turned the envelope over in his hands and looked at it quizzically, before pulling out the flap and reading the card. Then he turned his attention to the envelope inside. "Are these?" he gasped. "Really? That's so cool!"
"What are they?" Carlisle asked.
"Tickets to a Mariners game!" Ryan crowed. "Woo hoo! Grandpa Charlie rocks! Can I go, Mom? Please?"
"That's the logistics part," I whispered in an undertone to Esme. "Charlie managed to get three tickets to the game for next Saturday."
"Oh," she said. "Isn't that supposed to be your weekend here?"
"It is. I know Charlie's planning to come up for the game, if Ryan wants him to come, and you all could just come with him or . . ." I trailed off, not knowing what else to say.
Esme gave a heavy sigh. "The tickets are for Ryan, Charlie, and Edward, aren't they?"
I hedged. "I think that was his intent, but I'm sure he'd be happy to have Carlisle there. He just knew that it would make Ryan happy."
She leaned in close. "Carlisle hates baseball. I don't think he'll mind too much if Ryan picks Edward to go in his place. But if they spend all afternoon at the game, you won't get to see him."
"I'll make dinner for everyone afterwards," I said, the hollow feeling of not getting to spend my time with Ryan returning.
Esme searched my face, lit by the flames from the fire pit. "We'll figure something out."
Ryan's cheer could be heard across the lawn when she finally granted him permission to use his now favorite gift.
So, did the party go like you thought it would? As for Edward and Bella meeting the other parents—as they were siblings of those they went to school with, you can assume they already know them and that they talked to them. I just didn't feel like adding in a bunch of characters that would never matter.
Rec of the Week: This Is My Wish by ericastwilight—go read it. Oh, and take a box of tissues with you because there hasn't been a single chapter that hasn't made me cry. It is simply heartbreakingly beautiful.