Happy Holidays, everybody!
An update for Caught In A Riptide is also on it's way, so keep your eyes peeled for that.
Someone Else's Baby
April 3rd 2021
Brrrrrrrrring.
"All right, everyone. Have a great weekend and I'll see you after spring break!"
Bella smiles as her kids call out their distracted goodbyes, all eager to get home as they swipe their bags from their cubbies and file out of the classroom filled with their overlapping voices and the scraping of seats on linoleum.
While she organizes her desk, jotting on Post-Its so she'll remember the lesson plans she wants to prepare, Bella runs through her schedule for the weekend in her head. She looks up when she hears the clicking shoes of one of her more...challenging students.
Katie Denali pops a stick of gum in her mouth and narrows her piercing blue eyes. "Miss, do we really have to do that assignment?"
"Yes, Katie, you do," she tells the girl with a grin, knowing she heard James ask the same thing thirty seconds ago. "I'll look forward to reading your short story."
Katie flicks her long blonde hair over her shoulder as her twin, Irina, rolls her eyes and stuffs her binder into her backpack. Flashing their teacher a quick smile, Irina softly murmurs, "Have a good break, Miss Swan."
Filled with genuine affection, Bella's grin is bright. "Thank you, Irina. I'm really excited to see what you come up with."
The girl blushes as she stammers some unintelligible words, dragging a put-out Katie from the classroom. For twins, they're not so much alike. In fact, they're polar opposites. Over the last year, Bella's watched the growth of Irina's confidence stutter to a halt while Katie's attention-seeking has intensified. Next month, at the end of the semester, she'll be recommending that Katie and Irina are split up into two different ninth grade classrooms to give Irina, the quieter of the two and arguably one of Bella's favorite students, a chance to flourish like Bella knows she can.
Once her desk is all squared away, Bella heads over to the arts and crafts area to tidy it up before any paint splatters dry and become a pain in the ass to clean. Flipping the stereo on, she almost doesn't hear the classroom door squeak as it swings open, then shut, a few minutes later.
Spinning around, she smiles at her favorite student of all as he dumps his backpack and sports bag on the table by her desk. "Hey."
"Hey," Milo mumbles, taking his cap off so he can run a hand through his hair before putting the hat back on. His sad little frown and dejected, hunched frame stop Bella in her tracks.
With a pang in her chest, she shakes the wet paint brushes in her hand, slotting them into the rack to drip-dry as she rounds the desks. "What's wrong, baby? Talk to me."
"Just some jerk in class, Mom. Don't worry about it."
"You're my baby. I always worry." Bella waits him out. She knows her son, knows he can never keep his thoughts in for long, and it only takes a minute or so for his shoulders to droop.
"Mikey Newton likes to poke fun 'cause of my red hair, that's all. It's no big deal."
Bella's temper flares. This boy again. "If it's making you sad, it's a big deal to me, got it? I'll talk to Mrs. Reed."
Milo shakes his head, puppy-dog eyes pleading. "There's no point. Just let it go, please?"
As frustration and anger war in her gut, Bella decides to have a sneaky word with her colleague. Mrs. Reed is a fair woman and she trusts her to keep an eye on Milo and Mikey-freaking-Newton. There may only be two months of the semester left, but Bella won't watch her son go through this again. She won't let on to Milo that she's said anything, but she can't stand by and let Mikey Newton continue to torment him. They lucked out when the boys were put in separate classrooms this year, but then Mikey got transferred into Milo's class last month and it seems like he picked up right where he left off at the end of sixth grade.
He's one of the kids in Milo's grade she's hoping not to have in her classroom come August; like his three older brothers who all attended this school, he's a spoiled brat.
"I'll let it go if you promise to tell me if it keeps happening. Deal?"
Milo sighs, shaking his head as he flops into the chair behind her desk, twisting side to side. "Deal. Spit on it?"
Before he can spit into his hand, Bella snorts, arching an eyebrow. "Do I look like your uncle? No, I'm not spitting on it. Now, unless you've got homework to do, you can help me pack away these paints so we can get home faster."
Working together like they do every weekday except Thursdays—Thursdays are Jacob's, his day to take Milo to the park and play soccer before grabbing dinner at Chilis—Bella and Milo make short work of tidying up.
After waving goodbye to the janitor, they head to the grocery store to pick up the ingredients for Bella's favorite dinner and Milo's favorite dessert. Mexican food is their Friday night tradition.
"I'll get a cart!" Milo yells, apparently over his bout of melancholy as he jogs over to the cart bay.
Smiling after him, Bella locks the truck and calls out a reminder to check for cars as he pushes a cart toward the entrance. Meeting him there, she gently knocks the bill of his beloved, worn cap. "Do you have our list?"
"Uh-huh, right here." Milo rummages in his hoodie pocket, then waves the scrap of paper they wrote their list on back at Hillson Elementary in the air. "Usual route?"
"Of course, baby." With her arm around his shoulders, Bella leads Milo into the store where they start at their favorite spot; the tasting station. After snagging a couple of cubes of cheese and a bite size square of delicious roast ham, they head around the store together, teasing and laughing and smiling. Bella asks questions about his day at school and he asks her about hers.
They're unaware of the attention they garner, the smiles they inspire, too wrapped up in one another to notice or care.
"Is it just us this weekend?" Milo asks when they're halfway done, their cart getting full. Anticipating warm, spring-in-Vegas weather, they make sure to grab a box of popsicles and a puncture kit for their holey pool. Shooting his mom a curious glance as she adds a clearanced box of ice cream bars to their haul, Milo cocks his head.
Plastering a smile on her face, Bella nods. "It sure is, baby."
As he hums, pushing the cart ahead, Bella doesn't miss the smile that spreads across Milo's face.
It's no secret that he's not the biggest fan of Bella's new boyfriend—or any of the two other guys she's ever introduced him to. The first was when Milo was five and has since been dubbed Two-Timing Terry; she hadn't known about his other girlfriend until he murmured her name during a make-out session. The other guy was One-Night-Wonder William, who was sweet, patient, and rocked her world once and only once before ghosting her.
Needless to say, Bella is taking it slow with Riley. She hadn't meant for Milo to know anything about him, then Milo slipped away from a sleepover at his friend's apartment and found them eating a romantic dinner together. They've met a few times since and none of them have gone particularly well.
"Can we get some Cheetos, Mom?" Milo calls from the next aisle over.
Shaking away the memory, Bella smiles more genuinely and hurries to catch up, making a mental note to text Riley and see how his business trip is going. Tossing two bags of her son's favorite snack into the cart, she's rewarded with her favorite crooked smile.
~ oOo ~
Bella leans against the kitchen counter, her eyes on her son as he rummages through the paper bags looking for the Hershey's bar he just had to have.
"Aha," he mumbles, tossing it neatly in the air before catching it. His eyes find Bella's at the same time. "Uh, can I have this now?"
His eyes are wide and soft with hope as she laughs, reaching out to tap the bill of his cap so it flips over his head, revealing his thick mop of red hair. Hair that little asshole Mikey Newton thinks is reason enough to bully her sweet, loving boy.
"Please?"
Glancing at the clock, she sighs and shrugs, turning to continue putting away groceries—and hide the smirk growing on her face. "You know the rules on a weekday, Miles. It's either Hershey's now or churros later."
Just as she suspected it would, churros trump chocolate and Milo is all too happy to ditch his candy bar in favor of dessert. They spend a blissful evening cooking together, their favorite Latino singers booming through the docking station as they finally carry dishes of spicy beef and all the usual taco fixings out onto their small balcony.
Grinning at each other over the table, they raise their cold glasses and clink them together with a playful, celebratory "Horchata!"
Snorting a laugh through his nose, Milo downs half of his drink before setting his glass down with a satisfied hiss. "I love this stuff." His focus turns to the food then, eyes lighting up. "This looks great. We did good, Mami."
"We sure did, hijo."
Another tradition the Swans share—Mexican Fridays involve using as much Spanish as possible, which is why when the phone starts ringing just as they cheers their nacho boats, Bella mumbles, "Dios mio."
Smirking around a mouthful of food, Milo swears he'll save her some food. "I can't promise the guac will still be here, though," he adds, swiping his nacho boat through the bowl of fresh guacamole, chasing a big bite with a bunch of mumbled "Om nom nom's."
"Yeah, yeah. You've got eyes bigger than your belly, and you know it. I'll be right back."
Wiping her hands on a napkin, Bella hurries inside before the phone can ring off, finally locating it under Milo's cap on the kitchen counter. "This bloody hat," she sighs, twisting it in one hand as she answers the phone with the other. "Hello, Swan residence."
As the caller hesitates, she finds herself staring down at the Quileute tribe symbol embroidered on the front of Milo's cap. Jacob got it for him when they went on a fishing trip in La Push five years ago. They stayed with his sister, timing it just right to be there when she gave birth to her own son. Milo came home stinky, tired, and happy, this exact hat on his too-small head. He's since grown into it and always keeps it close.
"Uh, hello?" Pulling the phone away from her ear, Bella checks to make sure the call hasn't dropped. It hasn't. "Is anybody there?"
A gruff "I'm here" stops Bella from putting the phone down.
"Hi. Who's this?"
Hearing a sudden burst of laughter from the balcony, she shifts to see their neighbor's cat Walter walking along the balcony railing to join Milo. Smiling at the wily little furball's bravery, Bella is brought sharply back to her spot right there in the kitchen as the caller clears his throat and expels a long, shaky sigh.
"You don't know me, but I...I have something very difficult to tell you. You may want to sit down."
Ice cold fear slithers through Bella's veins. Jake. Sue. Harry. Seth. Alice.
"Oh God. What's happened, who's hurt?"
"Hurt?" The gravelly voice comes again. "Nobody's...nobody's hurt. Sorry, I'm going about this all wrong. I don't know how to do this. Fuck." Bella hears a dull thud, then nothing for just long enough that she considers hanging up. "Rip off the band-aid," he finally mutters, and then come the words that shatter Bella's peaceful, happy life into a thousand pieces.
"My name is Edward Cullen. We were at Forks Community Hospital the same day twelve years ago, and my son...I think I have your s-son and you have m-mine."
That's when Bella hangs up.
*eeeep*
So there we have it. A lot of you were wondering how she'd find out, and I guess Edward managed to track her down.
As always, all my love to every one of you for following along and sharing your love with me. And huuuuge hugs and massive amounts of gratitude to my wonderful dream team, annaharding, Maplestyle, and hotteaforme for being their awesome selves.
My plan is to update again before New Year, but just in case I don't, Happy Holidays and I'll see you in 2021! xo