27

"Give it back!" Michael demanded from inside his and Tyler's bedroom. We'd only been home from school for ten minutes, and they'd had done nothing but fight with each other. Sighing, I turned my attention back to my laptop and returned to my task of searching for the grade on my last history test.

"No, you said I could have it," Tyler argued.

"No, I said you could look at it, not have it. It's mine, now give it back."

"You're lying!" Tyler cried and a moment later I heard the sound of someone getting hit, falling to the ground, followed by a loud scream of, "Mommy!"

I snorted as I climbed off my bed. I was only 'mommy' when they were hurt or whiny, and based on their behavior since I picked them up from school, I was banking on whininess.

"I swear to God, you two, if I come in there and someone is bleeding, I'm never making you cookies again." I pushed open the door to their bedroom and found Michael laying on the floor, his hand covering his nose as Tyler stood over him with a look of pure fear on his face. "What in the hell, dudes?"

"It was an accident!" Tyler swore, putting his hands up like I'd just caught him sneaking a cookie from the cookie jar.

"How do you accidently punch someone?" Michael cried, scrambling to his feet. He dropped his hands from his face. Luckily, there was no blood, but there were tears falling down his face. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting to get socked in the face by his younger brother.

"I don't know," he whined. "Please don't be mad at me, Mommy."

"Oh, I am," I said, kneeling in front of Michael and placing my hands on either side of his face. "You seem to be okay. No blood, at least."

"It just stung," he whimpered.

"I'm sure it did." I dropped my hands to my side as I shifted so that I was looking between both boys. "Which one of you is going to tell me what this was all about?"

The boys exchanged a look before Michael spoke. "He has my Giants hat, and he won't give it back."

"He said I could have it if I cleaned up his side of the room yesterday," Tyler added, huffing.

It was then that I saw the hat laying under Tyler's bed. The orange and black hat had been Michael's favorite ever since Peter took him to a game right after we left Forks months ago. Tyler had been sick, an upset tummy after eating too many sweets, so he and I vegged out on the sofa. Peter hadn't wanted Michael to be bored, so he took him to a game. He brought a T-shirt for Tyler, so I wasn't sure why the hat was suddenly such a big deal.

"Michael, is that true?" I asked.

"No," he said, quickly. "I told him he could wear it last night, but that I wanted it back today."

"Nu uh, you're lying," Tyler accused and tried to push Michael.

"Tyler!" I snapped, pulling the boy onto my lap. "We don't hit and we don't push."

"Sorry, but he's lying, Mommy!" Tyler cried.

"Why do you want Michael's hat so badly?" I asked.

"I just do," he muttered, curling his body around mine.

"Ty."

"He can't wear his shirt anymore," Michael explained, causing me to look over at him. "It's too small."

"Oh, I see." I stood up with Tyler in my arms and sat on the edge of his bed. "So, you want his hat because Grandpa gave it to him."

Tyler nodded.

"That's not fair to Michael, is it?"

"No," Tyler mumbled, and looked over at his brother. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

"Bring me your shirt, Ty," I said.

Tyler scrambled off my lap and hurried to his dresser, pulling the orange and black T-shirt out of his drawer. It wasn't hard to see that it was now too small. Tyler had to have grown two to three inches in the last six months, meaning the shirt would now only reach the top of his belly button. I took the shirt and held it in front of me.

"Maybe, and this isn't a promise, but maybe, I can make you something special with this. Would you like that?"

"Like what?" Tyler asked, his eyes widening.

"I don't know yet," I laughed. "But something. Do you trust me, Ty?"

He nodded his head frantically.

"Okay. I won't punish you for hitting your brother this time, but if it happens again, you and I are going to have a problem. Understand?"

"Yes, Mommy," he said, sweetly. "Will you still make us cookies? There wasn't any blood this time."

I smiled. "Yes, I'll still make you cookies. In fact, why don't we go make some right now? They can be your dessert while Edward and Jasper are with you tonight?"

The boys cheered and rushed out of the bedroom. I stood and held the now too small shirt in front of me. I'd find something special to make Tyler; I just wasn't sure what that would be.

—TW—

A few hours later, Carlisle and I were in the car and on the way to the restaurant to meet Marcus for dinner. He'd arrived home just after the boys and I took the cookies out of the oven. He looked tired and didn't offer too many details, just said that he'd had a busy day. I wondered if we shouldn't cancel dinner with his brother so he could go to bed early, but I knew that would look like I was running, so I didn't make the suggestion. Dinner with Marcus was important to Carlisle and he was important to me.

"Are Garrett and Kate here, too?" I asked.

"Um, no. Marcus said Garrett couldn't get away. He has a big case going to court this week, but that he and Kate were planning a trip down in a few weeks."

"Ah, okay."

"How was class?" he asked. "Did you find out your history grade yet?"

"No," I grumbled. "I'm pretty sure I bombed it."

"Doubt that," he scoffed.

"No, seriously. I didn't know half of what was on there."

"Liar," he chuckled. "You wait and see. You'll make an 'A' and then act all shocked and surprised."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I muttered.

The restaurant, a little seafood joint near the piers, was overflowing when we arrived. Carlisle held my hand and kept me behind him as we squeezed through the crowd and approached the hostess, who looked frazzled as she stood behind the large podium. She tilted her head back and I groaned. Lauren Mallory. She and I had gone to school together in Forks. She wasn't a horrible person, just not someone I hung out. She was a party girl, and her parents were loaded.

"Bella? Bella Swan? Is that really you?" she squealed as she rushed around the podium and threw herself against me. "Oh, my God, I had no idea that you were in San Francisco!"

"What are you doing here?" I asked, gently pushing her away. "I thought you were going to school in Seattle with Mike Newton."

Lauren rolled her eyes. "Hell no! I left town, and that loser, as soon as I could. Was planning on L.A., but then I got a full ride to San Francisco State University, so I said to hell with it and came here. What about you? I would have thought you were in New York or maybe Duke?"

"Oh, um, UC Berkeley, actually," I replied. "You really didn't know we moved here?"

"No," she said with wide eyes. "If I had, I would have Facebooked you, or something."

"Hmm," I hummed, tightening my hold on Carlisle's hand, which Lauren noticed.

She smiled wider as she looked from me to him. "Hello, Dr. Cullen."

"Lauren," he said with a nod. "We have a reservation."

"Oh, duh, of course." She let out one of those girlish giggles as she bounced back behind the podium. "Now why didn't I put together that you were the Cullen on my list?"

"I don't know; why didn't you?" he asked, and I squeezed his hand. "My brother should be meeting us."

"He's already here, actually," she chirped, gesturing toward the dining room. "Come on. Let's not keep him waiting."

Lauren turned and started leading us through the crowd. "I still can't believe that we both live here now, Bella. We're going to have to meet for lunch sometime. Or we could get our nails done. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Loads," I quipped.

She obviously missed my sarcasm because she laughed and nodded. This Lauren was different than the girl I had graduated with six months ago. She was perky and happy. Made me wonder just how many other people we had gone to school that shed their high school persona as soon as they could.

Marcus stood as we approached the table, reaching for Carlisle's hand before opening his arms to me. I gave him a quick hug, feeling my cheeks warm as Lauren stood there smiling the entire time.

"It's been so good to see you, Bella," she said again. "Stop by on the way out so we can exchange numbers. I was serious about that lunch."

"Okay, I will," I said, unsure I really would or not. Lauren turned and returned to the mass of people waiting for a table. I watched for a few moments as she smiled and tried to keep the peace.

"Well," Marcus spoke, drawing my attention back to him. "Shall we sit?"

"Of course," I said, quietly and slid into the chair Carlisle pulled out for me. They sat on either side of me. Our waitress came by with a bottle of wine for them and a glass of ice tea for me. I didn't question how Marcus knew to order me a glass of tea, or how grateful I was that I wasn't expected to drink, either. I was already nervous without adding alcohol to the mix.

"I hope you don't mind, Bella, but I took the intuitive and put our order in early. Carlisle said you liked oysters and clams, so I went with those as a starter, and then ordered a few pounds of crab legs for the table as a main dish. Is that okay?"

"Of course. That was very thoughtful of you."

Marcus smiled and leaned back in his seat. "I wasn't sure you'd come with Carlisle."

"I wasn't sure I should," I admitted. "But if I've learned anything in therapy, it's that I can't control the way people feel about me, or my relationship with Carlisle. I love him and he loves me and in the end, that's all that matters."

"I'm glad to hear that, because that makes what I'm about to tell you much easier. I hope, at least."

"Oh?" Carlisle asked, leaning forward. "And what's that?"

"I, um." Marcus paused and grabbed his wine glass, lifting it to his lips. Though, he hadn't poured himself a glass. "Shit, that's embarrassing."

I laughed as he grabbed the bottle of wine and filled his glass before gesturing for Carlisle's, who gave it over with caution. "I've never seen you so nervous, Marcus. It's cute."

"Glad you think so," he chuckled and blew out a deep breath before placing his glass on the table. "Okay, here goes nothing. I've never admitted this to anyone, but I'm tired of hiding who I am. Losing Dad the way we did has shown me that I need to live my life to the fullest and stop letting fear keep me back. So, I guess it's time you knew, little brother, that I'm gay."

Carlisle and I just sat there, neither of us surprised by the revelation. Carlisle had already shared with me months ago that his brother was gay, but hadn't come out of the closet, so to speak.

"Was that your big news?" Carlisle asked. "Because, bro, I mean, Garrett and I kind of already knew that."

"That's part of it, but how'd you know?" Marcus asked curiously.

"Um, the fact that you've never brought a girl home, like ever. Or how excited you used to get over the Backstreet Boys, the way you check out a guy's ass when we're out together. I mean, no offense, but it was kind of obvious."

"Okay," he laughed. "Um, anyway, I've met someone — someone special, and I'm moving my practice here to San Francisco, so that he and I can be together."

"Aw," I swooned. "That's so sweet. What's he like? Cute I'm sure, because look at you."

"Thanks?" he asked, laughing. "I think he's gorgeous. He's a doctor, too. He's sweet and funny, and sexy, and, well, he makes me happy, so . . ."

"I'm happy for you, Marcus," Carlisle said, reaching for his hand. "You deserve the same happiness that Isabella and I have, that Garrett and Kate have."

"I've waited a long time for him," Marcus said, his lips trembling. "Never thought I'd meet someone like him."

"When do we get to meet him?" I asked. "Gotta make sure he's a good as you're claiming, don't we?"

"Um, actually, you kind of already know him," Marcus murmured, his eyes shifting to Carlisle. "It's Phil Dwyer."

"As in my boss Phil Dwyer?" he asked, his eyes widening.

Marcus cringed, but nodded. "We met at Dad's Funeral, after you and Bella left. He was one of guys who threw that reporter out and then he came back to check on us. That night, I was at this bar, just needing to get away from everything when he came in. We got to talking and, well, things just kind of progressed from there." Marcus paused. "Are you mad?"

"Mad?" Carlisle asked, shaking his head. "No, not mad. Surprised, I guess. I didn't realize that you and Phil had met. Are you joining the co-op?"

"No, no, nothing like that. We talked about it, of course, but in the end, we agreed that a) his co-op and my plastics practice wouldn't really benefit each other, and b) for the sake of our new relationship, working together probably wouldn't be for the best. I've been looking at a few office buildings today. Figure I can split my time between here and L.A. for a while. Dr. Mendez has been talking about buying me out in L.A., so there's that, too."

"Sounds like you have everything worked out," I said, quietly and shifted my attention to Carlisle. "We're happy for you, right, babe?"

"Of course we are," Carlisle agreed with a smile and picked up his glass of wine. "To you and Phil. May your future be happy and full of love and joy."

"Thanks, Carlisle."

As we enjoyed the rest of our dinner, I couldn't help but smile. The boys had forgiven me for leaving them, mine and Carlisle's relationship, though we hadn't made love again yet, was solid, Marcus had found love. Even Lauren Mallory seemed happy. The only people missing from my family were Alice, Esme, Emmett, and Rose.