BPOV
"Mom, Mom!" Alex yelled, running into mine and Edward's bedroom and jumping on the bed. I just barely had time to move my laptop before he fell on my legs, causing me to wince. Alex may be skinny, but he had boney elbows and sharp hips.
"Dude, be careful!" I groused. "You could have broken my laptop, and then you would have had to face my wrath."
Alex frowned. "Sorry. I wasn't paying attention."
"It's fine," I replied, shifting up on my pillows. "What's up?"
"Oh, we got our report cards." Alex was nearly beaming as he shoved the manila envelope with his name scrawled across the top into my hands. Anthony stopped in the doorway, holding his in front of him with a scowl on his face. This was always such a difficult time for him. Alex excelled at school without much effort, while Anthony struggled to get the grades he earned. Neither Edward nor I cared about the grade, just the effort behind them.
"Hey, come here," I said, reaching for Anthony. Sighing, he came over and climbed on the bed next to me, tossing his report card in my lap. "Why the frown?"
"I didn't do very well," he muttered.
"Math again?" I asked, causing him to nod. "Did you try as hard as you could? Ask for help when you didn't understand something?"
"Yeah," he jibed.
"Then no matter what the grade shows, Dad and I will be proud of you."
"Yeah, I know," he muttered.
I opened Alex's report card first, knowing that he'd huff about him being here first. As usual, Alex had all A's. He always did and took great pride in his grades. Leaning forward, I hugged him.
"Great job, Alex. I'm very proud of you!" I cheered, ignoring the grimace that spread over his face when I kissed his cheek, though he didn't wipe it off.
"Thanks, Mom," he replied. "Open Anthony's."
"Okay." I winked at Anthony, who was still scowling.
Lifting it up, I opened it and pulled the paper out. Unfolding it, I smiled and looked over at him. "Anthony Cullen, you little stinker! You pulled your math grade up from a C to a B? That's amazing!"
"Thanks," he laughed. "Did you believe me about doing badly?"
"I did," I quipped, pretending to be pissed with him. However, Anthony rolled his eyes, telling me that he didn't buy it for a minute. "Hey, on a serious note; I'm very proud of you, Anthony. You've really been struggling with math and have worked so hard."
"Thanks, Mom." Anthony smiled and climbed off the bed, gesturing to Alex. "Come on, let's go get some cookies."
"No more than three," I called after them.
With the way they laughed, I knew they'd ignore me, but seeing as I was stuck in bed still, there wasn't a lot I could do about it. It's been a week since Tia placed me on bed rest due to my blood pressure being too high, and while it was down a little, the change hadn't been enough for Tia to release me from my bed. I was trying to have patience, but I hated the way Edward had to pick up my slack with the boys. Of course, he never complained, but that was just the way my darling husband was.
Just like I knew the boys would, they both bragged about knowing that they were getting twin sisters, even going as far as suggesting that we let them name the girls. Edward and I nixed that immediately, however. Naming our daughters was something that Edward and I would do together.
"Did you tell the boys they could have five cookies?" Edward asked, walking into our room with our laundry basket. He placed it on the bed and started putting our clothes up.
"Of course not," I scoffed. "You know me better than that."
"I do, which is why I told them to only take three," Edward snickered. Once he had all the laundry put up, he dropped the basket onto the floor and climbed on the bed next to me. "How are you feeling?"
"A little sick and tired of this bed," I grumbled. Picking up the boys' report cards, I handed them to him. "Did you see?"
"They showed them to me in the car when I picked them up from school." Edward smiled. "They did good."
"That they did," I agreed, pulling my laptop back onto my lap. "What time is your photo shoot?"
"Five-thirty, which means I really need to get going." Edward sighed. "I don't like leaving you."
"Charlie's coming, right?" I asked. Edward nodded. "So I won't be alone. Plus, those two little knuckleheads in the living room will be here. You have to work, Edward. You can't put your life on hold because I'm having an issue with my blood pressure."
"I know," he muttered, darkly.
Leaning over, I kissed him. "I'm fine, I promise."
"I know," he said, again. "If you feel dizzy or get a headache, you call me."
"I will," I murmured, kissing him again. "I'd tell you not to worry about me, but I know it won't do me any good."
"You're right, it won't." Edward smiled. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
Edward changed out of his jeans and T-shirt and into a pair of khaki pants and a white dress shirt. Of course, I ogled him, even though I knew I wouldn't get anything from him. With my blood pressure being too high, Edward had been hesitant to touch me. I understood, I really did, but I was frustrated, too. I yearned for his touch.
Once Edward was dressed, he shoved his wallet into his back pocket, grabbed his cellphone and keys off the dresser, and kissed me before he left me alone in our bedroom. From my place on the bed, I heard him tell the boys to take care of me, and made them swear not to let Charlie get them into trouble. They laughed and promised. If only they realized just how serious their father had been right then.
Less than ten minutes after Edward left, I heard someone knock on the door to our apartment. I pulled the blanket off of my legs so I could go open it, but stopped when I heard Alex yell that he had it. Sighing, I waited and listened as he asked who it was, calling out that it was Charlie. A moment later, I heard the door get opened and the sound of my father's gruff laugh echoing through the apartment. Charlie seemed to forget that we had neighbors — very close neighbors.
"Hey, preggo," Charlie snickered, coming into my bedroom. I rolled my eyes, keeping my attention on my laptop.
"Father," I replied. "Do I need to remind you that the walls aren't very thick?"
"Probably," he laughed, coming over to the bed. He pulled my laptop off of my lap and went to shut it, but I screamed for him to stop. "What?"
"I gotta save my work," I snarled, ripping it out of his hands. Saving my document, I closed it and placed it on the bed next to me, ignoring Charlie when he muttered about me being a drama queen. But, hell, we were talking about several chapters' worth of edits that I'd completed today. If I lost those, I'd probably cry and Charlie did not need to deal with me like that.
"I brought you something to eat," he groused, climbing onto the bed and placing a white, Styrofoam box in my lap.
Opening it, I frowned when I saw the salad. "You brought me rabbit food? Gee, how generous of you. Based on the way you smell, I'm guessing that Sue sent over some of her famous manicotti, didn't she?"
"Yes, but —"
"But nothing," I whined, pushing the salad on the bed. "I don't want a salad, I want some of that!"
"Bella, sweetheart, you have to eat healthy," Charlie mumbled. "The babies —"
"Daddy, I don't want a stupid salad," I whimpered. "I want some manicotti."
"Really? You're gonna cry and call me daddy?" Charlie scoffed, but climbed off the bed, picked up the salad, and walked out of my room. Two minutes later, he came back in with a plate full of Sue's manicotti.
I smirked as he handed it to me. Picking up my fork, I took a big bite. "Damn, that's good," I muttered with a mouth full of food.
"Bella, gross!" Charlie complained. "I don't need to see your food."
Laughing, I chewed and swallowed my food. "Sorry, Dad."
"Yeah, yeah; whatever." Charlie climbed on the bed and leaned against the headboard while I ate. It wasn't until he placed a brown, leather journal on the bed next to me that I even realized that he'd been holding anything else.
"What's that?" I asked before taking another bite.
"Um, well," Charlie stammered. I'd never seen him this nervous about something, which automatically put me on edge.
"Dad?" I pressed.
"I — it's one of Renee's journals," he whispered. For a moment, I wasn't sure I'd heard him correctly, but then he added, "I went down to the motel she'd been staying at and cleared out her shit. Anyway, I found this one and about twenty more in a box. And, well, I don't know if you'd want to read them, but . . ."
I sat there on my bed, staring at the brown, leather journal that belonged to my mother. Could I read it? Did I even want to? She hadn't been anything more than a thorn in my side since the day she decided I wasn't worth staying around for. Why should I care what she wrote in her journals?
"Honey?" At the sound of Charlie's voice, I released the breath I'd been holding and looked over at him. "I know you don't need this stress right now, but I just didn't feel like it was my choice to say one way or another, you know?"
"Yeah, I know," I murmured. My hand shook as I reached down and picked it up. "Have you read it?"
"I did," he admitted.
Nodding, I asked, "Did it help you understand why she left?"
"No," Charlie said. "But I'll never understand how she could leave you, honey."
Blowing out a heavy breath, I let it fall from my fingers. "Yeah, me either. Dad, I don't know that I can read them. She hurt me so many times."
"I know, but like I said, it wasn't my choice to make," Charlie told me. "I'll leave them and if, or when, you're ready, you'll have them. Okay?"
"I guess," I groused. "Did you find anything else?"
Charlie nodded. "There were some pictures of you, one of Alex. Also, I found a card for a lawyer down in Arizona that handles estates. I've left him a message about her passing. Um, that was about it, I guess."
"I don't want to hate her," I whispered. "She's my mother, and I'm supposed to love her, but I don't, Dad. She left me too many times."
"Nobody is expecting you to love her, Bella." Charlie shook his head. "Renee made a lot of mistakes in her life, some that I will never be able to forgive."
"She did," I agreed.
"But I can't hate her." Charlie smiled when I looked over at him. "She did give me you, after all."
"Aw, that's so sweet, Dad," I snickered. "And cheesy."
"I'm trying to be nice!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up.
"Oh, calm down, you big baby," I teased. "I'm just kidding."
"You shouldn't tease me like that, Bells," he complained. "I'm an old man. You're supposed to respect your elders."
"Um, yeah, okay," I scoffed. "You may be old, Dad, but you're not exactly an elder."
"Yeah, I am," he laughed. "Hell, most days I wake up and it takes me five minutes to be able to get out bed with the way my joints and shit ache."
"Grandpa, you said a bad word," Alex tittered, as he and Anthony came into my room. Anthony was holding a bottle of water while Alex had my bottle of prenatal vitamins. Alex thrust the bottle at me. "Here. Dad said to make sure you took one after you had dinner."
"I bet he did," I grumbled, opening it and dumping one in my hand. Taking the water from Anthony, I ignored the snicker from Charlie as I took it. Yeah, it was real funny that my sons were parenting me like this; funny to everyone else. I didn't find it nearly as amusing. "There, I took it. Happy?"
"Yep," Alex and Anthony chirped together.
I frowned. "Do you have homework?"
"Nope," Alex said. "We don't have school tomorrow because of a teacher-work day, remember?"
"Oh, yeah," I mumbled, aware that Charlie was laughing at my forgetfulness. "Did you eat?"
"Yes, ma'am," Anthony said, causing me to raise an eyebrow. First, he spoke a little too quickly. Second, Anthony wasn't usually a 'ma'am' kind of kid. "We did!"
"All of it?" I asked. Based on the way Anthony dropped his eyes from mine, I knew that he hadn't. "Anthony?"
"I ate almost all of it," he grumbled.
"How much is almost all of it?" I asked.
"Like . . . about half," he mumbled under his breath. I sighed. "Mom, I tried it, I really did, but I don't like it!"
"Bring me your plate," I said. Anthony opened his mouth to complain, but then shut it and turned, walking out of my room. He came back a couple of minutes later with his plate. Nearly three-quarters of it was covered in manicotti. Sighing, I lifted my eyes up to his. "Yeah, almost half, alright."
"Sorry," he muttered, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I just don't like it."
"Then that's all you had to say," I explained. "I've never forced you to do anything more than try something new, Anthony. But I don't like it when I ask you if you've eaten and you lie to me about how much."
"I know. I'm sorry, Mom," he whimpered, shifting his eyes up to mine. I could see the tears swimming in his green eyes.
"It's okay, just don't do it again. Deal?"
Anthony smiled. "Deal."
"Good. Now, go make yourself a sandwich, but no chips. You can have some carrots and an apple or banana, if we have any left," I said.
"Yes, ma'am."
The minute Alex and Anthony walked out of my bedroom, Charlie burst out laughing. "Oh, man, that kid is good. I would have believed him."
"Yeah, well, you're a sucker," I snickered. "Now go take care of my children so I can work."
"Yes, boss lady," Charlie teased, but climbed off the bed and walked out of my bedroom.
Grabbing my laptop, I opened it but before I could get back into my document, the brown leather journal caught my attention. Tentatively, I picked it up and let the pages brush across my thumbs. Sighing, I tossed it back onto the bed and went back to editing my book for Caius' charity fundraiser. With just over two weeks till the big night, we were under a serious time crunch to get it done and printed.
A few hours later, the boys came in and hugged me goodnight, both of them kissing my cheek before they left. I smiled, knowing that most ten-year-old boys wouldn't still be kissing their mother like that, but my boys were special.
The boys had been in bed for an hour when I heard the door to the apartment open once again and Edward greet Charlie, who'd come in to bother me after the boys went to bed, but one glare from me told him not to bother me while I was working. Instead, he muttered something about watching a ballgame and backtracked into the living room.
"I'm leaving now, preggo," Charlie said, leaning against the doorframe to my bedroom.
"Thanks for coming over, Dad," I said with a smile.
"Anything for you, Bells," he replied, before pushing off the doorframe and walking away. A moment later, I heard the door to the apartment close. Edward came into our room a minute later with my blood pressure cuff.
"Hey, how was the shoot?" I asked, trying very hard not to groan when Edward sat on the bed, sliding the cuff onto my arm.
"It was good." Edward smiled and pressed the blue start button. The cuff started tightening around my arm — quite painfully in fact. "I got some great shots of the sun setting over the water, and the surf was . . . amazing tonight."
"Good," I murmured, wincing as the cuff got really tight.
"It'll start loosening soon," Edward murmured. Just like he said, a moment later the pressure started loosening around my arm. With a beep, the meter showed my blood pressure to be 143/82.
"It's better than it has been," I said, trying to be positive.
"Yeah," Edward agreed, tossing the meter on his nightstand and recording the numbers in our log. "But it's still too high."
"I know," I whispered. "I'm never leaving this bed."
Edward laughed, though I could hear his nerves. "You will sooner or later."
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, saving my document and closing my laptop. Setting it on the bed, I pushed the journal off the edge of the bed.
"What's that?" Edward asked, moving around and picking it up.
"One of Renee's journals," I replied. Edward cocked an eyebrow at me. "Charlie found it and a few more in her motel room. He thought I might want to read it."
"And did you?" Edward asked.
"No, not yet anyway," I muttered. "Not sure I want to."
Edward nodded and placed it on the dresser. Stripping off his clothes, he pulled on his pajamas and climbed into bed next to me. I moved my laptop to my nightstand before lying back on the bed and rolling so that I was facing him. I could see the worry in his eyes, the fear that I was sick, that I was going to leave him alone like Sarah did. Bringing my hand up to his face, I brushed his hair out of his eyes.
"I missed you tonight," I whispered. "Charlie spent most of the evening telling the boys very inappropriate jokes."
"Why does that not surprise me?" Edward sighed. "I missed you, too, but then I always miss you when I'm not here with you."
My cheeks warmed from his attention. "I'm gonna be okay. Me and the girls are gonna be okay."
"I know," he replied, but I knew he wasn't sure. "How's the book coming?"
"Almost done. One more day should do it. Then I can send it back to Tanya, and she can get it to the formatters, and hopefully, we'll have a beautiful bound copy of Healing through Love for the fundraiser."
"Are you nervous about this one?"
I nodded. "Not just because it means dealing with Caius, either. This book was so . . . emotionally charged for me. I don't know; I guess I'm afraid that people will turn away from me because it's not my usual genre."
Edward smiled. "Baby, everything you write is amazing. You'll just gain a new reader base with this one."
"I wish I had your confidence," I giggled.
"I've got enough for both of us," he teased before leaning in and kissing me.
"Oh, what was that for?"
"Do I need a reason to kiss my wife?" he asked.
I smiled. "No and feel free to do it again and again and again."
Edward growled, and placed his hand on my belly. Smiling as the babies pushed against his touch, he whispered, "I never get tired of feeling them like this."
"Me either," I murmured.
After a few minutes the babies stopped moving and Edward rolled onto his back. I scooted closer, laying my head on his shoulder. With a sigh, I drifted to sleep.
