4 Neighbors
Alice had been crying for an hour.
She'd fallen asleep in the car again, but Edward had taken her out of her car seat upon arriving at his apartment and she hadn't stopped wailing since. He'd offered her food, videos, and songs; he'd held her and put her down; he'd even tried to bribe her with a new Prada bag. She wasn't interested in any of it. She wanted her daddy and nothing else would do.
Edward could relate. In fact, he was all too aware of his own looming grief, shoved aside to be dealt with when he had the capacity. But the longer his own feelings got backburnered, the more he resented Alice for taking up so much of his mental space. He needed time to feel his own feelings, but all of his attention was focused on managing hers.
And he'd come here for a reason. He wanted to pack a bag and get back to Forks, but he didn't know how he was supposed to do that with a kid clinging to him.
"Alice," he said, bouncing her in her arms, "I need you to let me pack."
She wailed more loudly in response and wiped her nose on his shirt. Again.
How was he this exhausted? He felt like he'd already lived a week since this morning and it was only just past noon. He was starting to suspect that Alice's crying was really a sorceress's chant meant to drain the life out of him.
"Do you want to help me pack?"
"No! Wan Daddyyyyyyy!"
He couldn't sit around arguing with her all day. He had things to do. He would just have to try to work one-handed and hope that Alice eventually got tired of crying. He made his way to his bedroom closet and dragged a suitcase out of the corner. He tossed it onto the bed and unzipped it, but when he went back to the closet for clothes, he realized he had a problem. He hadn't done laundry in way too long, nor had he picked up his drycleaning. He didn't have anything to pack.
Well, fine. There was a washing machine at his dad's house. He grabbed a selection of clothes from the hamper and tossed them into the suitcase. He would need at least one decent suit, though, so the drycleaning was a must. He thought about loading Alice into the car again and nearly started crying himself. It was too much to ask. He grabbed his phone instead and opened his TaskRabbit app, offering a stupidly large tip for quick delivery. He hoped some eager errand-runner would pick it up on the double.
With that done, he started collecting toiletries and other essentials, and then he moved to his desk and eyed his computers. His laptop and his sketching tablet were essential. He could probably do without the drafting table for a while, but he looked longingly at his perfectly calibrated ergonomic chair. He didn't want to leave it behind, but loading it into his car . . .
Except he was driving that dreadful Volvo, not his car, and he suspected his chair would fit just fine in the back of that.
"Well," he muttered to Alice, "point for the hatchback, I guess."
Trying to do everything one-handed wasn't great, but it was working. When he leaned over, Alice would cling to him to keep from being put down, leaving one of his hands free to pick things up. She didn't like it much, and her crying was probably even getting louder than it had been before, but there didn't seem to be anything he could do about that.
He was just arranging his electronics in the suitcase when he heard the alert that a guest code was being entered into his keypad. Awesome. That would be James or Tori, and he wasn't all that excited to see either one of them. He didn't want to have to explain to them the things that he barely understood himself.
"What the fuck is going on over here?" he heard James yell as he stalked to the bedroom.
Edward sighed. He was already worn out and James was a lot of work.
The good news was that his presence distracted Alice from her crying. She hiccoughed, looking toward the door in time to see James storm in.
"What is that?" he demanded.
The volume of his voice startled Alice and she started screaming this time, wrapping her little arms desperately around Edward's neck.
Edward didn't bother answering the question. He moved back out the door to his desk and started collecting the power cords he would need.
"Hey! You can't have a baby here. This isn't that kind of building."
"You know that's not actually legal, right?" Edward replied, sounding more tired than he meant to.
"Legal or not, everybody lives here because there are no brats around."
Edward didn't really want to admit it, but James was right. The building featured only overpriced single-bedroom units and was located ridiculously far from any decent school zones or other family-friendly spaces. Nobody actually said it out loud, but all of that was intentional. It was the perfect building for affluent singles, and Edward had considered that a selling point when he'd bought his apartment a few years back. It was nice not to have a noisy family living next door.
"You've got to get that thing out of here!"
"The yelling isn't helping," Edward said testily. He elbowed James out of his way and headed back to the bedroom.
James followed him. "I don't care! I have a date tonight! It has to go!"
"You have a date here?"
"I'm making her dinner."
Edward snorted. "You're cooking?"
"I'm having dinner catered. Whatever. If she gets here and hears a baby crying, it'll ruin everything."
"Here's a thought," Edward said, hitching Alice higher in his arms, "take her out instead. Then you won't have to worry about the noise."
"You don't understand. We're having naked dinner."
Edward stopped. "Naked dinner? Seriously, Jimmy?"
He looked defensive. "I read about it on the internet."
"PornHub?"
"No."
"Uh-huh." Edward stepped around him again, heading back to the desk to start collecting the art supplies he used most often. "Listen. Does your date know about the dress code?"
He grinned. "She will when I answer the door."
Edward grimaced. "You're not doing that."
"Yes, I am."
"That's gross."
"It's genius."
"It's predatory."
"You just wish you'd thought of it first."
"I truly don't." Edward couldn't load his art bag one-handed. He just couldn't. He set Alice down on the floor and she clung to his legs and wailed.
James jabbed a finger at her. "That thing can't be here. I don't need Sable getting all domestic on me."
"What, you think she'll suddenly remember that babies exist because she hears one?"
"She'll associate them with me," James said. He was starting to look a little manic. "She'll start thinking of babies and me—together—and then she'll start trying to trap me into a relationship!"
"Yeah. Pretty sure your opinion of yourself is way too high and your opinion of Sable is way too low." He zipped up the bag of art supplies, but James batted it out of his hand.
"Get it out of here!"
Edward reached the end of his patience with a suddenness he wouldn't have expected. He shoved James in the chest, hard enough to send him stumbling back against the wall beside the desk, and pinned him there.
"Call her 'it' one more time."
James gaped at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He glanced down at Alice, still clinging to Edward's leg, and did a double-take. "Holy shit. Holy shit! That's your kid!"
Alice had stopped crying when he'd shoved James, and Edward looked down at her. She was staring at them with wide eyes. He released James and knelt down next to her. "Are you okay?"
She hiccoughed and nodded.
"Did I scare you?"
She nodded again.
"I'm sorry, kiddo. Do you want James to leave?"
"Uh-huh."
"Okay. Can you sit there under the desk for a minute while I throw him out?"
She scooted underneath without complaint, her sparkly party dress drooping off of her shoulder again.
Edward stood and turned to James. "It's time for you to go."
"Are you joking? You have a kid!"
"And she's my priority right now. You need to leave."
"I'll leave when you do. You can't keep it here."
Edward grabbed James's arm and hauled him bodily to the door. He opened it and gave James a hard shove out into the hallway, nearly pushing him into a petite blonde holding armfuls of drycleaning.
"Oh, perfect," Edward said, taking the clothes from her.
James was still yelling about the kid and threatening to report Edward to the HOA, but Edward couldn't even work up the effort to tell him to shut up. He said goodbye to the delivery girl and carried his clothes back into his apartment, kicking the door closed behind him. He heard James keying in the guest code again and he rolled his eyes. He threw the deadbolt and then, tossing his clothes onto the sofa, he opened his security lock app and changed the settings to deny entry to the guest codes.
Alice was peeking out from under the desk when he looked back at her. It was actually kind of ridiculous how cute she looked, and he couldn't help smiling.
"You okay?" he asked her.
She nodded.
"You want to come out?"
She crawled out from under his desk, which was no small feat given the excessive amount of skirt she had to contend with. She got to her feet and toddled over to him, and he scooped her up.
"Good riddance, right?"
"A-widdance," she agreed.
"You want to help me carry some stuff to the car?"
"Uh-huh. A-hope you."
He picked up his bag of art supplies and handed it to her. "You carry that and I'll get the suitcase." He grabbed the whole pile of drycleaning and carried the lot of it to his suitcase. He had to kneel on the thing, but he managed to get the zipper closed. That would be good enough for the drive home.
As annoying as James had been, his visit had actually been pretty good for Edward. He and Alice had a common enemy now, which put them on the same side. She'd forgotten all the things that had made her sad, at least for the moment, and instead focused on pushing elevator buttons and "helping" him move shopping bags so he could load his suitcase into the car. She was so eager to participate that, when he went back for his chair, he had to grab an extra box of acrylic pens so she would have something to carry. He locked the door behind him, then hesitated before going back to the elevator.
He set the chair down. "Alice, let me have that box for a minute."
She surrendered it to him and he pulled out a nice bright red one. He moved to James's door and wrote in large letters, "He's going to answer the door naked."
"A-jwah?" Alice asked, making grabby hands at the box.
"You want to write something too?"
"Yes!"
He handed her a purple pen and let her scribble on the door for a few seconds.
"Awesome! High five." He held up his hand, not sure she would know what he meant, but she smacked his hand with a gleeful giggle.
He packed the pens in the box and handed it to her, and the two of them headed back to the car.
The drive home was easier. There were no diaper explosions or traumatizing department store visits, and Alice even had intermittent quiet spells while she watched her movie. Sometimes she chattered at him over the sound of it, but then something on the screen would distract her again and she'd get sucked into the story. It was better than Edward had expected after the awful drive down, and he was relieved to get some time to breathe.
But their arrival home played out much like the morning had. Alice searched the house, calling for her daddy, and when she couldn't find him she ended up in Edward's arms again, wailing disconsolately. Edward resigned himself to it, lying back on the sofa and letting her rest on his chest while she cried.
They had been like that for several minutes when there was a knock on the door. Alice popped up, immediately curious, and Edward hauled the two of them off the couch.
He checked the video camera and saw, behind a large vase of lilies, a face he'd become familiar with through photographs. The red-rimmed eyes and disheveled hair were something of a change from the perfectly put-together image he was used to, but it wasn't hard to recognize Carlisle Cullen.
"Tah-why!" Alice yelped, reaching for the door. Edward pulled it open and she practically threw herself out of his arms. He managed to catch her, if precariously, and Carlisle stepped in to help. Edward handed off the kid in exchange for the vase of flowers and Alice clapped her hands on the side of Carlisle's face.
"Ose Daddy?" she asked in earnest.
"Oh, honey," he said sadly. "This must be so hard for you."
Edward beckoned him in and closed the door behind him.
"Wan Daddy," Alice insisted.
"I know, sweetheart. He's gone to heaven now."
"Hang on," Edward interrupted. "I'm not so sure we're doing the heaven thing."
Carlisle was instantly contrite. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."
Which made Edward feel like an asshole. Maybe it would be best if he didn't piss off everyone in town before the memorial service.
"It sounds like a place he could come back from," he explained. "I think it might be confusing for her."
"Of course."
Edward set the flowers on the end table and gestured for him to take a seat.
"I'm so sorry for your loss," Carlisle said, and then swallowed hard. Edward suddenly felt like he was the one who should have been offering flowers.
"Thank you," he said, and he knew he should acknowledge Carlisle's grief but he couldn't seem to find the words.
"I'm Carlisle Cullen. I live next door."
"Oh—yeah. I know who you are. Dad talked about you all the time."
Carlisle allowed a gratified smile, though his eyes started to glisten. "He meant so much to me."
Edward wanted to say that the feeling had been mutual, that his father had praised Carlisle frequently and effusively, how he'd often talked about bringing him along on one of his visits to Olympia so he could introduce his son to the best friend he'd ever had. No words would come out, though. Edward's throat felt so thick that it ached, and he could barely force air through the too-narrow passage. He just nodded, an entirely insufficient response, but he thought he saw understanding in Carlisle's eyes.
Alice claimed Carlisle's attention again, pleading for her Daddy, and Edward wiped at his eyes. He tried to take a deep breath, did a bad job of it, and tried again. Carlisle murmured to Alice and then moved to the rocking chair and spoke softly to her while he rocked. She seemed relieved to be with him.
"Hassum wapes?" she asked.
"Sure, you can—" he stopped and looked up at Edward. "Do you mind if Alice has some grapes?"
"Um. I don't know if there are any in the house."
"Ted always keeps a bag—" he stopped, he and Edward both recognizing the present tense error at the same time, but then he continued without correcting himself, "in the refrigerator."
"Yeah. That's fine."
Carlisle carried Alice into the kitchen and Edward trailed after them, watching as Carlisle pulled a bowl from the cabinet and plucked a handful of grapes from their stems to put inside it. He took Alice back to the dining room, where he placed her in a tall chair, buckled a strap around her waist, and then pushed the chair up to the table. She held out her hands and let him remove her gloves.
"Do you want some water?" he asked her.
"Uh-huh."
He went back to the kitchen and pulled a sippy cup out of the cabinet. He poured what seemed like not enough water into it from a pitcher in the refrigerator and brought it to her.
It surprised Edward to realize that he was jealous. Carlisle knew Alice. He knew her favorite snacks. He knew what was in the refrigerator and how the cabinets were arranged. He even understood her when she spoke. While Edward had been oblivious to her existence, Carlisle had been actively involved in her life.
But then it occurred to him that Carlisle knew things. He was exactly the right person to go to for answers. Before he could take the time to formulate a reasonable line of questioning, he found himself blurting out, "Is she my kid?"
Carlisle looked surprised. "Alice? No." Then his brow furrowed. "I don't think so. Do you think she's yours?"
"I—no. I'm careful. But other people seem to think that, and . . . I mean, why wouldn't he tell me about her if he wasn't trying to shield me from some stupid fuck-up?"
Carlisle glanced away, and Edward was certain he knew why Alice had been kept a secret. Carlisle was moving away from him, though, toward a bookcase in the den. He reached up to the top shelf and slid out a white book with "Baby's First Year" embossed in gold on the spine. On the front, two sections had been cut out to display a pair of images. The first was a photo of a tiny, copper-skinned infant with a crown of dark curls. The second held a tiny inked footprint. Carlisle flipped open the book and showed Edward a photograph that had been tucked into a plastic pocket on the first page. In it, his father grinned happily at the camera with one hand resting on the belly of a pregnant woman. She looked less happy and was arching an eyebrow at whoever had taken the picture, but she seemed comfortable enough in Edward Sr.'s embrace. Her bronze skin and straight dark hair indicated Native American heritage, and while it was hard to tell her age, Edward guessed that at least ten years separated her from his father.
"This is Morgan Fernall, Alice's mother. Do you recognize her?"
Edward let out a sigh of relief. He was pretty sure he'd never seen her before. "No."
Carlisle closed the book with a little smile. "I guess that settles the matter." He started to put the book away but Edward took it from him.
"So she was, what, Dad's girlfriend?"
He hesitated. "I don't think that was it, exactly. Obviously there was some sort of relationship, but I don't think either of them was very serious about it. From what I understand, they never intended to stay together after Alice was born."
"Did he . . . I mean . . . was it a planned pregnancy?"
"I don't think so."
Edward sat down at the table next to Alice, flipping through the book and examining the collection of pictures and mementos. After the first page, Morgan didn't appear again.
"Diss Awiss!" Alice said, pointing at a picture of her younger self splashing happily in a plastic wading pool.
"That's right," Carlisle agreed. "You've always loved the water."
"Do you know how I can get ahold of Morgan?" Edward asked.
Carlisle sat down, across from him. "I don't think she cares to be contacted. She surrendered her custody rights."
Edward's stomach gave a little dip, like he'd missed a step. He scrambled, trying to find a mental handhold "Yeah, but if Dad's not around, wouldn't she still . . . I don't know, be responsible?"
Carlisle shook his head. "She's not the healthiest person."
"What do you mean? She's sick?"
He nodded toward the book. "That picture was taken at Serenity Lodge Treatment Center."
Rehab. Huh.
"Habbit," Alice said, reaching for the book. Edward held it away from her sticky fingers.
"Did she surrender custody or did she lose it?"
"The courts weren't involved, if that's what you mean. I wasn't part of the conversation, but it's my understanding that the decision was mutual."
"Habbit," Alice insisted, straining toward the book.
"That's Daddy's book," Carlisle said. "We have to be very careful with it. But I can get you one of yours."
"Yes! Passy Nassy!"
Carlisle smiled and moved to her toddler desk, sliding a book from one of the pockets. He brought it back to Alice and she took it from him, nearly knocking her bowl off the table in her eagerness to read it. Edward noted that she had clearly been at this book already. There were crayon scribbles and the occasional torn page, and he saw a smear of something that looked like it had come out of her nose. Underneath Alice's additions to the book were illustrations of a little girl who clearly enjoyed dressing in childishly fancy dresses and an overabundance of accessories.
"This makes so much sense," Edward muttered, looking at the book. He set Alice's memory book aside and turned back to Carlisle, who had retaken his seat at the table. "So here's the million dollar question: why didn't he tell me?"
Carlisle sighed and sat back in his chair. "He was always going to."
When he didn't continue, Edward prompted, "But . . ."
"At first he intended to wait until she was born. Then she was premature and we weren't at all sure she would survive. He thought he'd hold off, just in case there wasn't really any news to tell."
Edward shook his head irritably. He didn't like the thought that his father had fretted over Alice's health and he hadn't been there to offer his support. He shouldn't be hearing this second hand.
"Then he was caught up in caring for a newborn and was tired all the time, and then . . . he just kept looking for the perfect moment. He thought he'd tell you on his next visit, or after your birthday, or when you took your annual New Year's trip. Of course, that was 2020 . . ."
"COVID," Edward muttered. He and his father typically rang in the new year abroad in some distant and interesting country, but they had skipped the trip for the last couple of years because of the pandemic. They hadn't seen each other at all at the end of 2020, and the next year, with anxiety over the new latest variant hanging over them, they had spent New Year's Eve together in Olympia and they hadn't left Edward's apartment.
It hadn't seemed so bad at the time. They'd missed their trip for a couple of years, but there would always be other trips. Only now there wouldn't be. Edward would never travel with his father again. They'd never try any favorite local cuisine together or count down to a new beginning.
"Inna potey!" Alice said brightly, throwing up her hands.
"That's right," Carlisle said. "Doesn't that look like a fun party?"
"Yes!"
They would never get a chance to go with Alice, Edward realized. He knew his father well enough to know that he would very much have wanted to show Alice interesting new places. He had always been so enthusiastic about broadening horizons and experiencing other cultures. Edward was a little dubious about how fully they experienced other cultures when they slept at an expensive resort every night, but he was fussy enough about his creature comforts not to be overly concerned about authenticity.
Still, authentic or not, Alice would never travel with her father. The thought devastated Edward. He had a lifetime of holiday memories that he cherished—with both of his parents—and Alice would never have that. Her parents were gone.
"Okay, but why?" He said again. "Why was this such a hard thing to tell me?"
Carlisle cleared his throat, not looking up from the book. Edward waited, and when it was clear that he wasn't going to let Carlisle off the hook, the man sighed and sat back in his chair.
"I don't know exactly why," he said, but he was hedging. "Ted never talked about it, but I gather there was a time when the two of you were estranged?"
Edward had to put some effort into holding back a wince. "Yeah."
Carlisle waited, apparently expecting more information, so Edward gave it. Briefly. He didn't really like thinking about it.
"When my folks split up, Mom told me about Dad's affairs, and . . . well, some other things. Some stuff she lied about, mostly she exaggerated or spun the truth, and of course she never mentioned her part in their problems. And I didn't know, but she blocked him on my phone, my email, all my social media. So I'd try to talk to him and I thought he was ignoring me. It was rough."
Carlisle nodded, looking very sad, so he went on.
"Eventually I decided to do a foreign exchange program, so the school sent permission forms to my dad. He ended up flying to South Korea a couple of weeks after I got there and we worked things out."
"It makes sense," Carlisle said. "He always tried so hard to make sure you knew you were the most important person in his life."
Edward nodded. His father had gone absolutely over the top sometimes, but he'd always made sure that Edward had come first in everything.
"And then he had Alice, and there was someone else just as special to him as you were. I think he was afraid that you'd feel like you'd been replaced."
Edward wanted to protest, but he wasn't sure it would be entirely honest. It was probably self-centered and definitely stemmed from his spoiled childhood, but he did particularly like being his parents' favorite person. It was probably why it wounded him so deeply to be shut out of his father's confidence. He should have been the first person to hear the news, just like he was first in everything else. But if he had been, would he have resented Alice? He resented her a little now. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility.
His dad had known him well.
He swallowed back yet another lump in his throat and looked at the kid, who was turning the pages of her book with an enthusiasm that made him worry about the fiber strength of the paper.
"He should have told me. I should have been part of this."
"I agree with you," Carlisle said softly.
That somehow made him feel better, like his feelings weren't just those of a coddled child.
"Diss!" Alice said, pointing to a picture in her book.
"That's a teapot," Carlisle said, turning his attention to her.
"Peepot?"
"That's right."
"Diss?"
"That's a tiara."
"Yawa?"
"Doesn't Fancy Nancy have a nice tiara?"
"So pity!"
Alice started turning pages again and Carlisle turned back to Edward. "Listen, I'm taking a couple of weeks off work. When you're ready to start going through your father's financial papers, I'd like to talk to you about a project we were working on."
"Yawa!" Alice exclaimed, pointing to another picture of a crown on the little girl's head.
"The reading of the will is on Monday," Edward said, and Carlisle nodded like he already knew. He probably did. The lawyer would have contacted the beneficiaries and it was entirely likely that Edward Sr. had left something to his protegé. "I figure I'll go to that first and then I'll have some guidelines on what I'm supposed to do with it all." He sighed. He had asked that the lawyers wait to call his mother until the next day to give him a chance to break the news himself, but he still hadn't made the call. He could use Alice as an excuse for his preoccupation, but the truth was, he was avoiding it.
"Still," Carlisle said, interrupting his thoughts, "it might be best if you knew about the Pacific Northwest Revitalization Society before then."
"Okay."
Carlisle rose and moved back to the bookcase, plucking a key from the top of it, and then sat at the desk. Edward drifted over to him as he unlocked the bottom drawer.
"Up!" Alice said, stretching toward them from her chair. "Up! Tumishoo!"
Edward strode back over to her and released her from the chair, carrying her to the desk while Carlisle pulled out a green file folder.
"It started with the Clearwaters. They're some of our closest friends and they needed financial help for their daughter's medical care. Ted wanted to take care of it for them, but . . . it's hard. Even with close friends—maybe especially with close friends—it's difficult to just give money. It took weeks of persuasion to convince them to accept help, and they finally only did it because . . ." He trailed off. "Well. It was necessary. They were afraid they would lose their daughter. They took the money, but it's still an awkward thing to talk about."
Edward was shaking his head. "I don't get it. Why would it be such a big deal? I mean, I know medical care can be expensive, but do they have any idea how much money Dad has? It couldn't have made that much of a difference to him."
"I don't think they really understand his wealth, no, but that's not the issue. For people around here, the accusation that they need help to support their families is devastating. Accepting money, especially from a friend, is damaging to their pride."
Edward settled Alice on his hip and looked down at the first page in the folder. "So you started a charity to hide your charity behind?"
"Essentially. We saw so much need around us, especially in the first year of the pandemic. The area isn't exactly thriving economically, and when so many businesses shut down, many people we care a lot about could have lost their homes. We established the Society quietly and pitched it to people as a way to sustain and revitalize the area. We told them that Ted was on the board, but we didn't tell them that it was funded almost entirely by the two of us. It's easier for people to accept money from a program than from a friend."
"You used this to save local businesses?"
Alice reached for Carlisle and Edward passed her over. She obviously wanted to play with the papers in the folder, but Carlisle pushed them out of her reach and found a fidget toy in a drawer to give her instead.
"Not with this. We did invest heavily in local businesses to keep them afloat, but mostly we bought shares in our own names and helped the owners restructure their operations to more sustainable models. The Revitalization Society has been more about personal expenses. We used it to purchase mortgages and medical debt mostly, and since Ted was a 'board member,' he was able to negotiate lower payments or temporary deferments until our clients were able to get back on their feet."
"Do any of these loans ever actually get paid back?"
Carlisle shook his head. "That's not the point. This is a philanthropic foundation. We put money into it periodically, and everything that gets paid back is reinvested into the loan-buying program. The goal of this project isn't to make money in interest. In fact, we only even charge interest because it looks too much like charity if we don't. We refinance at less than one percent."
Edward picked up the file and sat down on the edge of the desk, flipping through the list of loan contracts inside. None of the contracts themselves were there, though Edward suspected he would find them filed by name in the lower drawer. He dropped the folder on the desk and bent down, pulling open the drawer. Sure enough, filed neatly in alphabetical order, were dozens of files containing thick contracts. He opened one and skimmed the extremely generous terms of the loan.
"It's just you two doing this?"
"Mostly. Some of our out-of-town contacts have donated to the Society. It's as convenient a tax write-off as any other philanthropic endeavor."
"Dad didn't ask me to contribute."
Carlisle shook his head. "Honestly, he felt guilty giving away some of your inheritance."
Edward scoffed and shook his head. "It's his money." It was his money, he corrected silently.
"I know. Maybe you don't know how much he thought of you. He never made a decision until he'd considered how it would affect you and Alice. He loved you two so much."
Edward suddenly felt conspicuously inadequate. He had seen the desperate economic circumstances, the rise in homelessness, and he had felt righteous for donating some money to nearby shelters. He hadn't invested anything like this, either financially or emotionally.
But, to be fair, he didn't have anything like the money that his father did. His trust fund was enough to let him live very comfortably, and he had taken in a little more money working a few major electoral campaigns. But he hadn't done that in a while. He trusted his accounting firm to grow his personal wealth through investments while he earned considerably less than a living drawing cartoons.
Ted—Edward was starting to pick up the local nickname—had been in a whole different league. He'd had the kind of money that allowed a person to buy sports franchises. Or senators. He'd come from wealth and he'd multiplied his holdings at a staggering rate. His name had appeared in Forbes so many times that Edward had stopped noticing. But while he had always contributed generously to various charitable interests—and had taken the corresponding tax breaks—he had never done anything this personal. His beneficiaries had never had names before.
Edward stood up. "So you guys are saving the whole town from homelessness," he said drily, recognizing the defense mechanism in his tone and regretting it.
Carlisle didn't seem to mind. "I only wish we'd been so effective. This area was hit hard. But we've made a difference to a few people."
"Can you take over the management of the Society?" Edward asked.
Carlisle nodded.
"Okay. I haven't even looked at the will, so I don't know how everything will shake out, but I'm going to make this a priority. I'd like to keep it going."
Carlisle's eyes were suddenly wet. "I think Ted would have liked that."
Edward had noticed in the past how people tended to attribute their own feelings to the dead, but he kept his observation to himself.
"A-jwah?" Alice was apparently bored with the fidget toy. She wriggled off of Carlisle's lap and plopped herself down at her baby desk, producing some paper from one of the drawers. She grabbed a marker and started scribbling vigorously.
"I guess we'll revisit this on Monday," Edward said. "Until then, I wouldn't mind some help with the memorial service."
"What can I do?"
"I don't really know who to invite. I mean, it's a public service, but I don't know how to spread the word to his friends."
"We can post about it on social media," Carlisle said, "and we can have the details announced at the local churches this weekend. There are a few people who you should invite personally . . . and actually . . ." He trailed off and looked up at Edward. "I don't know if it's something you're interested in, but I wanted to invite you to a little get-together on Sunday."
Edward arched an eyebrow. Did the man really want him to go to a party?
"It's nothing very involved. Ted and I had dinner with some close friends every Sunday. I think you've already met a few of them, actually. The Swans and the Blacks?"
The Swans he remembered. The harpy and her father. "The Blacks?"
"Jacob Black is a police officer. He responded to your 911 call. And Billy Black, his father, lives with Bella and Charlie."
"Right." Edward tried to fix the connections in his brain. The rookie cop and the other man behind the curtain.
"And the Clearwaters," Carlisle said. "Harry and Sue, and their kids Leah and Seth."
Alice perked up. "Yee-ya? Yee-ya tummeen?"
He smiled at her. "Not today, sweetheart. On Sunday." To Edward he said, "Leah is Alice's favorite babysitter."
"Iss sunnay?" Alice asked. "Yee-ya tummeen?"
"It's Friday," Carlisle told her.
She gasped. "Danceen!" She leaped up from her chair and ran out of the room. Carlisle grimaced. "I probably shouldn't have said that."
"Why?"
"Alice has a regular schedule. She has different activities every day, and I assume she didn't make it to her dance class this morning?"
Edward shook his head. "I had no idea."
"No, of course. And she doesn't have much of a sense of timing. When she hears it's Friday, she'll expect to go to her class."
"Do you know her whole schedule?" Edward asked. A dance class sounded great. Anything where someone else was tending Alice for a little while was welcome.
"I know what she does each day, but I'm not sure what time she does it all. Ted might have—there might be reminders in Ted's phone."
Edward whipped out his own phone, ready to take notes. "I'll see if I can find them. Meanwhile, what does she do on Saturdays?"
"Breakfast at the diner, and then a lot of the local parents take their kids to the park around ten."
"Sunday?"
"Dinner with friends."
"Right. Monday?"
"Swimming lessons."
Alice raced back into the room holding a pink leotard with a tutu-esque ruffle around the waist. "Danceen!" she said urgently. "Time-a doh! A-jwess!"
Carlisle rose. "We can't go to dance class today, but I'll tell you what? How about you and I dance together?"
"Tah-why danceen?"
"I've been known to cut a little rug. Let's get you dressed. Did you get your tights?"
"Sum tice!" Alice tossed her leotard aside and ran back out of the room.
Carlisle chuckled and followed her, plucking her leotard off the floor on his way, and Edward followed after them.
They caught up with her in the bedroom, where she was struggling to open a drawer that was too high for her. Carlisle swept her up onto the changing table and started to take off her dress.
"Is this a new dress?" he asked her.
"Poh-toey one!"
"It's very pretty."
"Popo wun inna dobij," she said, looking distressed.
"In the garbage? Why?"
Alice pointed at Edward.
"Hey." Edward narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you tattling on me?"
Carlisle glanced back at him. "Did you throw out one of her dresses?"
"In my defense, it was covered in poop."
Carlisle shook his head, grinning. "Poop washes out."
"Sometimes it's not worth it."
"Habba popo wun?" Alice asked.
"Don't worry," Carlisle told her soothingly. "You have lots of purple dresses. And look, now you have a new red one."
"Poh-toey!" she agreed. "Yite a-sooz!" She wiggled her feet happily.
"Yes, that's a very good match."
Carlisle decided she needed a diaper change, and Edward wasn't sure whether he should feel defensive over having neglected to change her already. Carlisle didn't seem to be sending him judgy hints, though. He just treated it like a routine chore. Edward was a little annoyed that there wasn't any poop in this diaper. Of course somebody else would get the cleaner ones. But Carlisle chatted with Alice while he changed her, and then Edward watched in fascination while he gathered the fabric of Alice's tights with his fingers and released it slowly as he pulled it up her legs.
"That's how you do it!"
Carlisle shot him a questioning look.
"Tights are hard," he said defensively.
Carlisle laughed and proceeded to help Alice into her leotard. Once she was properly attired in her tutu and a pair of ribboned slippers, he carried her back to the living room and set her down.
"Should we stretch first?" he asked her.
"Yes! Hattoo wetch!"
Carlisle stretched his hands high in the air, and Alice copied him.
"You want to join our dance class?" Carlisle asked when Edward didn't follow.
"Yes!" Alice said.
He shrugged. What could it hurt? He untied his shoes and tossed them aside, then raised his arms to mimic them.
Carlisle had them lean to the sides, touch their toes, and then run around with their arms out and make airplane noises, which Edward was pretty sure wasn't in the dance teacher's handbook. Alice ate it up. Once Carlisle deemed them limber enough, he opened a door to the entertainment system and punched a few buttons on the player inside.
"This list should give us some good dance music," he said, closing the door again.
The list didn't disappoint. The Kinks started singing "You Really Got Me" over the living room surround sound, and Carlisle started calling out instructions.
"Wave your hands in the air!" he said.
Alice and Edward obediently waved their hands above their heads for several bars.
"March in place!" he ordered, and the three of them took exaggerated, high-kneed steps.
After a couple more orders, he called out, "Alice, what should we do now?"
"Um. Um. Sayta booty!" She turned around, poked her little diapered butt into their circle, and wagged it.
Edward snickered but obediently shook his booty.
"Edward, pick a move!"
"Um." He scrambled to try to come up with something that Alice could keep up with. "High kicks?"
Alice loved high kicks. She nearly knocked herself over in her enthusiasm, but she thought it was great fun to kick her feet out in front of her, especially after Edward took her hands to help steady her.
Edward found himself grinning at Alice as she wiggled to the music. Her moves were uncoordinated and inelegant, but she performed them with such a wonderful lack of self-consciousness that it was impossible not to share in her joy.
It took them about two tracks to run out of toddler-accessible body movements, so when a third song started to play, Carlisle swept Alice up into his arms and danced her around the room, singing along with the music. She laughed and flung out her arms and thoroughly enjoyed herself while thoroughly exhausting Carlisle. When, by the end of the song, it looked like Carlisle was ready to tap out, Edward stepped in and took Alice from him. He set her down and knelt in front of her, holding her hands and guiding her into spins and dips that she wanted to repeat again and again.
The two of them traded off the heavy lifting for a while, until Carlisle finally changed the playlist to something that included some slower pieces. Edward picked Alice up and she collapsed against his chest, exaggerating her heavy breathing.
"A-zosted," she said between pants.
Edward chuckled at her dramatic declaration.
"I yite danceen."
"Yeah? Me too. It's pretty fun."
"Seen a sonn?"
"This one?"
"Uh huh."
Edward had grown up listening to Ted's music collection and was more familiar with it than he was with the Red Hot Chili Peppers. This was a much easier request.
"Just a small town girl," he sang quietly with the track, "living in a lonely world . . ."
The slower movements helped bring down Alice's energy levels and she cuddled into his chest. He sang a couple of verses, swaying with her, when he suddenly realized that Carlisle was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the sofa, with tears streaming down his face.
Edward stopped, and after a moment Carlisle noticed and looked up at him. He didn't know what to say. His impulse was to ask whether Carlisle was okay, but that obviously wasn't the case and he knew exactly why. He turned off the music and moved to sit beside him in what he hoped was a show of solidarity.
"I've seen him do that so many times," he explained. "Alice has always been difficult to put to bed. He used to turn on some music and dance with her until she fell asleep." He wiped his eyes. "You sound just like him."
"Tah-why sad?" Alice asked, pushing back from Edward's chest.
He nodded. "Yes, I'm very sad today."
"Why?"
"We lost someone very special to us. I miss him."
"Hudjoo?"
He smiled through his tears and reached for her. "I'd like that very much."
Alice let him take her and wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug. He hugged her back and stroked her wild, soft curls
"He used to do this thing," Edward said, because it seemed like the right time to reminisce. "I'd be making fun of a classmate or something, being the obnoxious kid I was, and he'd ask me what I didn't like about the person. That was usually pretty easy to answer, but then he'd ask me what admirable qualities that person had. And he didn't let me get away with being flip. I had to give him a real answer. And then he'd say, 'What are his interests? If you were negotiating a deal with him, what would you offer to convince him to accept?' And after that, it would be, 'What terms would you include to guard against any trouble you might have with him?' I always kind of assumed he was just grooming me to work with him eventually, but now I don't think that was it. I think he was just trying to get me to see people beyond my own interactions with them. To recognize them as whole people."
Carlisle nodded slowly. "He had this way of expecting the best from everyone. You'd see that and want to live up to it, and he'd be so pleased when you did."
Edward smiled. He'd never put that into words, but he knew exactly what Carlisle meant.
"Lemon lavender gelato."
Carlisle laughed out loud. "His favorite. He used to despair about not being able to get it here. He finally convinced the manager of the Thriftway to stock it, and for a while, everyone was eating it. It had a very good year here in Forks."
The doorbell rang and Alice's head popped up. "Owizzit?"
Edward hauled himself to his feet and Alice scrambled after him, eager to see who was at the door. Edward glanced at the security camera and didn't recognize the visitor, a heavy woman holding a foil pan. Carlisle apparently did, though. When Edward hesitated, Carlisle stepped past him and pulled the door open.
"June, hello!"
The woman on the other side was first to give them the look that Edward would become familiar with over the next few weeks. She tilted her head to the side, her eyes full of sympathy, and said, "Hi. I just heard about Ted. I'm so sorry."
"How thoughtful of you," Carlisle said. "Please, come in."
A small part of Edward was annoyed with Carlisle for being comfortable enough in Ted's home to invite people in, but a much larger part was glad to surrender the social niceties to someone else.
"Hi!" Alice said.
"Ohhh." June's head tilted even farther. "Hello, Alice." She pushed the pan into Edward's hands as she entered. Edward noticed that "350° for 30 min" was written on the lid in black marker. "I just wanted to do something to help out. I know this is all so exhausting."
"Yeah." Edward eyed the disposable pan, mildly curious about what was inside. "This is perfect, actually. Thank you." He had enough to be worrying about without adding meal planning to the list.
Carlisle made the introductions and June came in to chat. She'd just adored Ted, she said, and she was so glad to finally meet the famous Junior—"Edward, please,"—and she knew that he would love Forks, and if there was anything he needed he should give her a call. Edward sat and responded with gratitude through it all, until the doorbell rang again. This one was a bottle blonde named Karen, and she also did the head-tilt and brought him a disposable plastic dish with what looked like stir-fried vegetables inside. Edward accepted her pleasantries and chatted with her for a few minutes, and then Carlisle seized an opportunity.
"June, you're still running the Forks Facebook page, aren't you?"
"Oh, yes, I've already made an announcement. It's so sad. People here loved Ted so much."
"Would you put up a post about the memorial service? Edward, when is it?"
Edward tugged out his phone and read the details to June, who jotted them down with a pen and paper she pulled from her purse.
"I'll get this posted right away," she said. "He really was such a wonderful man. Everyone sure loved him. And he bragged about you all the time!"
The ladies stayed a few more minutes, and when Edward was showing them out the door, another couple was arriving bearing a foil pan with cooking instructions written on the top.
Alice had watched Carlisle make the last two introductions, and she jumped in this time.
"Diss Uh-wud!" she announced to the couple.
Edward grinned. "Hey, now you're catching on."
Carlisle stepped in to finish. "Edward, this is Angela and Ben Cheney."
"Yes," Alice agreed.
Edward invited them in, watched them do the head-tilt, and accepted their sympathies. Carlisle gave them details of the memorial service and encouraged them to share the information. Then they were gone, but Edward had only just found places in the refrigerator for the food when the doorbell was ringing again.
"What is happening?" he asked.
"It's almost dinner time," Carlisle said with a fond smile. "I think most people have heard by now, and they want to make sure you're taken care of."
Edward went back to the door, opening it this time to the police officer from the night before and a petite Korean woman. Both of them were holding big plastic tubs, including one whose contents looked brothy and familiar.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" the cop asked.
Alice interposed herself between them. "Diss Uh-wud, diss Jaytub, diss Wace, diss Tah-why, diss Uh-wud, diss Awiss!"
"Thank you, Alice," Edward told her.
"Grace," the woman clarified for him, and he gave her a grateful smile. But his attention couldn't be diverted for long from the tubs. "Is this just wishful thinking or is that yukgaejang in there?"
She brightened. "Have you had it?"
"Are you kidding? It's my favorite."
"So you know what to do with the egg and the noodles and all?"
"Yep. I haven't had this in ages. Is there a good Korean place around here?"
"Sorry, no. I made it. It's my go-to comfort food."
Edward wrapped an arm around her, leading her to the sofa and intentionally leaving Jacob behind. "Listen. What are you doing with this asshole? Why don't you ditch him and come stay with me?" He flashed her his most charming smile.
She laughed and shrugged out from under his arm. "Maybe next time. We left the kids in the car, so we can't stay."
Edward accepted the bowls from Grace and Jacob, and then Grace turned and gave Carlisle a tight hug.
"I'm so sorry," he heard her whisper.
Carlisle held her for several long seconds before releasing her and wiping at his eyes. "Thank you. So much."
Grace was a little teary too, and Edward remembered that Jacob was supposed to be one of his father's closer friends. He guessed the friendship included Grace. He waited while Carlisle gave them the information about the memorial service, and then he cleared his throat.
"I had the funeral home prepare his body for a viewing," he said. "I'm not really sure whether I should take Alice. I don't know if it would help or make things worse. But, you know, if you guys are interested, they're setting up tomorrow night between six and eight."
"I think I'd like that," Jacob said. "You want us to tell anyone else about it? Or should it be private?"
"Maybe the Swans and the Clearwaters?" Carlisle asked, looking to Edward for permission.
"Yeah. I mean, I wouldn't want it to be big, but it seems like you have a pretty tight group, right? You all get together every week? That seems appropriate."
"I'll call Bella and Sue," Grace offered.
They said their goodbyes and Edward smiled down at the bowls in his hands. "Have you eaten yet?" he asked Carlisle.
He shook his head. No surprise, given how long he'd been there already.
"Stay for dinner. It seems like I'll have more than enough food to keep me supplied for a while."
"I'd love to."
Edward moved to the kitchen and started searching the cabinets until he found the necessary dishes. He heated the soup, poured in some beaten egg, and then set out three bowls. He placed noodles into two of them and ladled the soup over the top, but Carlisle intervened before he could fill the third.
"Let me show you a trick," he said. He found a sippy cup in a cabinet and then retrieved a small strainer and held it over the cup. He ladled in about half a scoop of yukgaejang and let the broth drain into the cup, then tipped the chunks of beef and vegetables into the last bowl.
"A lot more of it ends up in Alice's stomach this way," he explained.
"Nice."
Carlisle found a bib for Alice and got her set up in her chair again, and the three of them sat down to eat their dinner. They were silent for a few minutes, except for the thumping of Alice's feet kicking against her chair, but a nagging question resurfaced and Edward once again suspected that Carlisle might have the answers he needed.
"Do you know if they took my dad to the hospital last night? Or if he went straight to the morgue?"
"He was brought to the hospital."
Brought. Not taken. Carlisle was a doctor, Edward remembered.
"Were you there?"
He nodded, staring down at his bowl.
"Did you see him?"
He nodded again.
Edward waited, giving him a moment with his grief. When Carlisle looked ready, he continued. "Do you know the cause of death?"
"It was an aneurysm."
Edward's reaction to the answer surprised him. It felt like such an inadequate response. Aneurysms were so mundane, things that were mentioned in passing when you talked about other people. How could something so feeble have taken down a giant like his father?
"He didn't kill himself," he said, knowing that his eyes were begging for corroboration.
"No. Why?"
"He's been singing 'Under the Bridge' to Alice."
Carlisle smiled, but there was pain behind it. "I know. I don't know why he liked it, but he sang it to her all the time."
"And you weren't worried about that? That he might relate to it?"
"No. Not even a little bit. I think he was really happy."
"Yeah, but that song." Edward put his chopsticks down and ran a hand through his hair. "Why does anybody like that song if they haven't felt suicidal?"
"Maybe he has at some point."
Edward's chest tightened. He very much didn't want to hear Carlisle mention their period of estrangement again.
"Life can be really hard," was all he said. "I think a lot of people consider it one time or another. And if you do, you don't forget it. So a song like that can have meaning even after those feelings are gone, especially when it's about finding comfort."
"But he was good? You know, before yesterday?"
"He was good."
Edward sat back and pulled in a slow, deep breath. It felt like the first time he'd really breathed in the last twenty-four hours.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. There was a text message from James, and Edward smirked at the terse "Fuck you" on his screen. It seemed like his parting message had been discovered. The smile didn't last long, though, because looking at his phone only reminded him that he had a call to make.
"Is everything okay?" Carlisle asked.
"Yeah, I just . . . need to tell Mom."
He grimaced. "Do you need a minute? I can sit with Alice if you want to have some privacy."
"After dinner," he said, picking up his chopsticks again.
But the reprieve was too short, at least for him. He was spooning the last of his broth and rice into his mouth while Alice was still picking bits out of her bowl to place on her spoon and then push into her mouth. She would be at the table for a while yet. It was the right time to make the dreaded phone call, and Edward finally quit stalling. He nodded to Carlisle and wandered down the hall to the guest room where he'd left his suitcase. He dialed his mom's number and waited for her to answer.
There was crowd noise in the background when she did. Edward was tempted to use it as an excuse to chicken out and break the news later, but he steeled his nerves.
"Hey, Mom," he said instead, feeling oddly weak. "Is there someplace private you can go?"
"I don't have a lot of time, sweetie. Should I call you back when I get home?"
"No. I really need to talk to you now. Can you step outside?"
"I can't. I'm at an auction and—there's my lot. I'll call you back."
She hung up the phone and Edward stared at it for a minute. He probably should have let her get away with it, but it hurt him to be blown off by her and his usual response was to dig in his heels. He typed "Dad died" into a text message and sent it. A few moments later, his phone rang and he answered it. There was no background noise this time. His mother had found a quieter place.
"Edward, honey," she said, her voice full of sympathy. "How terrible for you. How are you? Do you need to get away? We could go to Belize for a while."
Escape sounded nice.
"No, I've got a lot to deal with here. Including the reading of the will on Monday. The lawyers will be calling you tomorrow to ask you to come."
"Monday won't work for me. We'll have to reschedule."
Edward had been expecting this. A Rules girl to her very core, Elizabeth Masen made it a policy never to accept the first proposed date, especially for anything happening soon. Her power move was to make other people plan their schedules around her. But Edward could usually talk her around.
"I really don't want to reschedule. I'm stuck in Forks until I can get his papers settled, and I don't want to be here longer than I have to be. Please, Mom. I need you to be here on Monday."
"I'm supposed to let him control me even after he's dead?" she demanded.
"Don't do it for him. Do it for me. Please."
She sighed. "Of course. What wouldn't I do for my son?"
It was a short-lived victory because he knew the next part would be worse.
"There's one more thing you should know. Dad . . . had a kid."
There was a beat of silence. "What do you mean?"
"There's a kid. A daughter. Dad had a two-year-old daughter."
He heard pain in her voice when she spoke again. "And you didn't tell me?"
"I didn't know. I only just found out about her."
"Honey, there's some kind of mistake. Your dad was too old for all of that."
Edward sank down onto the bed. He knew exactly how she felt. This all seemed too ridiculous to actually be happening. "It's not a mistake. I just spent the day with her. I have a sister."
There was a long silence on her end of the phone. Edward was about to ask her if she was okay when she spat out, "That son of a bitch!"
He frowned. "What?"
"He knew—he knew that I always wanted another child—that son of a bitch!"
Edward blinked in surprise.
"He refused to have another one with me," she went on, the volume and pitch of her voice rising, "and now he has another one with some trashy whore?"
"Jesus Christ, Mom—"
"He did it on purpose!" she hissed, "Just to rub it in! He did it on purpose!"
A string of curses followed her outbreak and Edward took a deep breath, waiting for her to work through her outrage. If the insult in question had been anything other than a kid, Edward would have suspected that she was right. The animosity between his parents was legendary, and they'd been known to drive each other to apoplexy with smug pleasure. But the one thing Ted had staunchly refused to do was drag Edward into the fight with his ex-wife, despite the fact that Elizabeth hadn't shown him the same courtesy. Edward was certain that Alice's existence had nothing to do with Elizabeth.
"I know this hurts," Edward said quietly when she started to run out of steam. "I wish I didn't have to drag you into it. But I need you right now. I need you to help me through this. Please." He knew he could always count on his parents to love him more than they hated each other. It was his trump card and he played it shamelessly.
As he'd hoped, she started to settle down. She let out a couple more bitter expletives, but finally she agreed. "I'll be there. That jackass doesn't deserve it, but I'll come out on Monday. What time is the reading?"
Edward gave her the details she needed and promised to arrange a car for her, and then thanked her fervently. He was truly grateful that she hadn't made it any more difficult than she had. He got her car scheduled for her after she hung up and then moved back to the dining room to rejoin Alice and Carlisle. Carlisle was reading another book to Alice, though "reading" probably wasn't quite the right word for what they were doing. They took turns pointing out interesting things on the page, and then Carlisle would encourage Alice to take a bite of her food before he turned to the next page.
Edward stood and watched them for a minute. He thought about Carlisle's willingness to answer his questions and help with Alice. He thought of Sam and Emily offering him a free room in their Bed and Breakfast and his father's friends bringing him food to support him in his grief. Even Bella Swan, harpy though she may be, had made him tea and helped him figure out what was going on.
He flipped through his text messages, looking at the confirmation for the car he had booked for his mom and the "Fuck you" from James. He thought for a moment about the undercurrent of hostility that always ran through his get-togethers with Victoria and her entourage.
"Everything okay?" Carlisle asked.
He wasn't really sure how to express what he was feeling. There was a general wrongness and a general rightness, and he felt like he was on the unfortunate side of the line. But that seemed vague and a little self-pitying, so instead he said, "Dad has better friends than I do." Still self-pitying, but at least it was concrete.
Carlisle smiled down at Alice's book. "This place. It's something special. I know small towns aren't your thing, but the people here are the best I've ever known. There's a sense of community here that I've never found anywhere else."
Edward shoved his hands into his back pockets. "Not one Middle Eastern restaurant. In the whole town."
"There are trade-offs, I suppose," Carlisle said with a laugh.
Edward nodded. Still, he was starting to get the feeling that he was trading in the wrong currency.