So I'm thinking I've written the surprise-dog scenario too many times. Y''all are adamant that EC has gotten the boys a dog LOL. I'll let you get to it.
Chapter Fifteen
Bella
When Edward said he'd brought us a housewarming gift, I figured it would be something small. A vase, something for the wall, I don't know. Something simple.
'Simple' doesn't come close to describing the huge trampoline currently in pieces leaning up against the side of a truck emblazoned with the Burger Co. logo. The trampoline mat is rolled up, but it looks to be at least fifteen feet across and I can see a net draped over the cargo bed. As the boys rush up to get a closer look, I step up beside Edward and elbow him in the side.
"Oomph...shit, Bella," he huffs, laughing even as he leans away from me. "What was that for?"
"This is way too much, Edward! Christ, this must have cost a fortune!"
"It didn't cost a thing," he insists, rubbing his side, apparently unable to look away from the boys hanging all over the trampoline and talking over each other in their excitement. From what I can see, it looks brand new. The net looks intact with no obvious rips and the metal legs laying on the grass are still shiny with no sign of rust.
There's no way he got this for free.
"This is so cool! Look, Momma!"
"That's great, baby," I call back distractedly, turning to face Edward. "You can't honestly expect me to believe this was free."
"It was," he says calmly, hesitating for a moment before looping an arm around my shoulders and leading me toward the boys. "An old buddy of mine was getting rid of it, his kids have outgrown it, and I figured your boys would love it. They were complainin' that they'd lose the pool when your mom brought them in for lunch the other day, so I just thought this might sweeten the deal a little."
Any annoyance I might have been feeling evaporates the moment I sigh and look up at his face, and I mean really look.
His eyes, so often dark and clouded with memories I can't even begin to imagine, are alight with pride that he's made my boys so happy with something he sees as simple. To most, it would be. Lots of people get their friends housewarming gifts, and if he's telling the truth about his friend giving this to him, it's not out of order for him to gift it to Jaxson, Finley, and Arlo.
It's the thought behind it that makes my eyes burn with unexpected tears.
The boys have many people who love them. It's still heartwarming to realize that they now have one more in Edward.
"Thank you," I finally breathe, wrapping an arm around his waist and leaning into him for a moment—just long enough that I get a strong whiff of his delicious woodsy aftershave and find myself battling the desire to wrap myself around him like a spider monkey and pepper his bashfully smiling face with kisses.
This man...he's a total dichotomy, a lesson in contrasts. He's light and dark. Crooked grins and steely stares. He's warm-hearted one moment, cold the next. Giving, and yet closed-off.
Edward Cullen is an enigma. A puzzle I'm desperate to solve.
"You're welcome, short stuff. Now, how about we get this thing in the backyard and get it assembled before the neighbors have a conniption fit thinking you're some kind of oddball?"
Between the two of us, we just about manage to get the trampoline and all the pieces through the gate and into the backyard. Edward informs me that it is fifteen feet across and is perfectly sound. Apparently, the guy who had it before was a total safety freak and barely let his daughters use it, hence the great condition it's still in.
It takes us a good couple of hours in the insane heat with the boys hurrying us along, but we eventually get the trampoline assembled and set up. As soon as Edward gives them the okay, Jaxson, Finley, and Arlo are clambering up the ladder to show off their 'tricks,' which mostly consist of awkward, lopsided flips and forward rolls. Edward and I pull out the camp chairs from the hall closet, the ones I only just packed away this morning, and get comfy in the shade of the porch. Reaching for the cooler at my feet, I grin and hold up a cold bottle of Coke.
"You want?"
"Please."
Watching Edward drink from the glass bottle is almost pornographic, but then...I could say the same about almost anything he does. The man is ridiculously attractive. His outward appearance is hot enough, but the man within is even more so.
It's terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure, but as we sit together on the back porch, the boys flinging themselves around the trampoline, and our new house at my back, I can't stifle the thought that now this place feels like a home.
~ oOo ~
A couple of hours later, the yard is significantly busier.
Mom and Dad arrive first with Benjamin, Angela, and Danny in tow. Shortly afterward, Everly and Rosalie announce their presence by yelling "We brought wine!" over the fence. Dad has just gotten the grill started when Grandpa Freddie, Little Grandma, Carlie, and Bailee wade into the chaos bearing side dishes and bottles of their chosen beverages for after the kids crash. They all bring folding chairs or stools because I haven't had time to head into Jacksonville for any outdoor furniture yet, and I pre-warned them that they'd end up sitting on the grass if they didn't bring their own seats.
The kids don't particularly care. They're more than happy to sit on a blanket on the grass as they munch on Dad's BBQ ribs and demolish more than their fair share of the pad thai fries Edward picked up from the restaurant just before everybody started arriving.
He hangs out with us all afternoon, much to my combined surprise and delight. The boys take great pleasure in showing him their small selection of gymnastic moves before insisting I get on the trampoline to show them a real flip. My cheeks flame crimson when Edward gives me a nudge and admits he'd like to see my moves, way more than a mere hint of mischief in those insanely pretty green eyes of his. Needless to say, I make a show of stretching out right in front of him before executing a pretty stellar backflip.
After that, we stick to watching the boys from our seats on the porch, the sun beaming down and the faint, far-off whoosh of the sea soothing my soul.
By the time the sun begins to set on our first evening in the new house, my cheeks are sore from smiling so hard for so long and I'm looking forward to many more family cookouts here. Sipping my soda and gazing around at everybody enjoying themselves, I can't believe I'm this lucky. Finding this house, everything going so smoothly, everyone being so kind and helping us get all moved in...we're extraordinarily blessed to have such wonderful people around us.
But there's one missing.
Jude is rarely far from my thoughts, especially when we're gathered together like this. She's family. She belongs with us.
Sliding her arm through mine, Carlie offers me a bright smile. "This house is so beautiful, B," she sighs. "I'm just a teeny, tiny bit jealous."
Laughing, I lean my head against hers and watch her daughter running rings around my boys with a soccer ball. Danny crashed in his mom's arms an hour ago—I expect they'll head home soon. Benjamin keeps complaining that I killed him today, much to the amusement of our dad who insists he feels absolutely fine. They're all sitting in a circle over by the fire pit with Grandpa Freddie, Little Grandma, and Edward.
As if he can feel my eyes on him, Edward shoots me a wink and a crooked little smirk before hiding his face behind his Corona as he takes a long pull. I swallow hard, watching his Adam's apple bob and the muscles of his arm flex as he raises and lowers the bottle.
Sweet Jesus, it's hot out here.
Thankfully, it seems Carlie missed our little exchange. She definitely would have said something if she'd caught it. A brain-to-mouth filter is something she never quite mastered. It's one of my favorite things about her.
"Do you want a refill?" I ask, nodding at her empty glass.
"Actually, I just came over to say me and Bailee are going to have to head out." Her smile slips a little as she admits, "Her dad is coming to get her early tomorrow. He's taking her to New York for the week with Ashley's family."
Ashley is the new wife of Carlie's ex-husband, Bailee's dad. Daniel married Ashley less than two years after he and Carlie split. We covered the whole sordid story over a late-evening phone call last week. Something that's a lot different now, compared to when we were highschoolers, is that we can't just walk down the street to pig out on ice cream and put the world to rights in each other's bedrooms. We're parents now with jobs and houses that need taking care of, so we make do with phone calls when our kids are all in bed and coffee dates when they're elsewhere.
Honestly, having been friends with both Carlie and Daniel at Bay High, having seen how their friendship developed into the sort of storybook romance people dream about, it still doesn't make sense to me that they aren't together anymore. I, like everybody else who saw them together, wholeheartedly believed they'd be together forever and have a bunch of Bay babies.
Instead, Carlie is alone in her apartment half the week while her daughter stays with Daniel and Ashley in their high-rise penthouse in Miami.
"We'll still see you next Friday, though. She's back on Wednesday evening."
"All right." After setting my glass down on the railing, I pull her into a hard hug and remind her that she's absolutely welcome to come and hang out with me and my gang of crazy boys if she gets bored.
"As nice as that offer is, and as grateful as I am, I think I'll just cram as much overtime in as I can while Bailee's with Dan. I feel guilty giving up my time with her to work now it's already limited, so at least her being away means I can earn us some extra dough to put away for Christmas." Rolling her eyes, Carlie sighs. "She's got her heart set on some fancy Barbie Dreamhouse set. It costs a freaking fortune, and I'll be damned if Dan gets to be the one who buys her the number one thing on her list two years in a row. I've already told him I've got it covered, so I have to get it now."
Not for the first time, it occurs to me that we've both ended up single-handedly raising little humans whose fathers turned out to be completely different than they first appeared.
"Let me know if I can help at all, okay?"
"Will do." I already know she won't ask for help. She's as stubborn and feisty now as she was when we were at Bay High together. It was one of the characteristics I admired most about Carlie, along with her confidence.
Once she's corralled Bailee and reminded her of the reason she doesn't get to continue whooping the boys' butts at soccer, Carlie plants a smacking kiss on my cheek before giving Jaxson, Finley, and Arlo the same treatment.
As it happens, Carlie and Bailee are the first to leave but not by much. Rosalie and Everly stumble down the street together, complaining that they've both got early starts tomorrow. Grandpa Freddie and Little Grandma head out next, followed by Benjamin, Angela, and Danny.
"Bye, Lil Grandma!" Arlo crows, launching himself into Little Grandma's arms.
"Careful, Lo," I warn gently, my smile probably negating it altogether, but I can't help but smile. Little Grandma is called 'Little' Grandma for a reason; she's barely five feet tall. My four-year-old will probably outgrow her by the time he's eight or nine and he's already closing in fast, so the sight of him wrapping his arms around her neck for a hug is just adorable.
"He's fine, Bella dear, don't worry. Now, Mister...what did we discuss earlier?"
Arlo pulls back to offer her a wide, cheeky grin that can only spell trouble—for me, most likely. "We're gonna have a sleepover soon and you're gonna teach me how to play proper Go Fish."
"That's right," Little Grandma agrees with a nod. "Proper Go Fish." The wink she tacks on the end doesn't instill much confidence in me.
Looking to Grandpa Freddie, I cock my head. "Should I be worried?"
"I'll keep a close eye on them, don't worry." Slightly mollified by his promise, I make plans to liaise with them so we can organize a date for the boys to have their sleepover before walking them out with my brother and his family.
"Thanks for all your help today, Ben."
"You're welcome."
Holy—"Ben!" I squeak as my feet leave the ground, my oaf of a brother lifting me into the air. It's possible he's had a beer or five and is more than a little merry as a result.
Angela snorts and shakes her head, motioning toward their car across the street. "I'd give you a hug, Bella, but it looks like we've both got our hands full. Thank you for having us, we'll see you at brunch." Grinning over her sleeping son's head, she adds, "You have a beautiful home. I can't wait for our first Mommy's Night In over here."
I can't wait, either. I tell her so, waving them off with a soft, satisfied sigh before heading back outside. The sight that greets me makes my smile stretch wide, my stomach flip-flopping.
Mom has abandoned her camp chair for Dad's lap. When I was a teenager, I would have groaned and called them 'gross' or something equally as childish. Looking at them now as both an adult and a single parent, it's nothing short of adorable. They're so in love, still, after thirty years together.
Thirty years annoying the love out of each other, as Dad always says before smacking a kiss to Mom's cheek.
The low light of the moon mixed with the dying glow of the fire pit creates beautiful patterns over their smiling faces as they whisper to each other, Mom's arm around his shoulders, her hand on his face. Their love is effortless, fathomless. I can't imagine it, but I can see it.
And then I look across the fire pit and my heart comes to a standstill. Edward has somehow managed to cram his considerable bulk into a folding camp chair with all three boys on top of him. Their heads are pillowed on his chest, their legs a tangled mess across and over his lap. The low rumble of his voice travels across the lawn and up the porch steps, their hushed giggles and murmurs of awe calling me closer.
But not without pausing to snap a photo on my phone.
Heart slamming against my chest, my stomach flipping around like a four-year-old on a trampoline, I save the picture to my favorites and cross the backyard. Jaxson is first to spot me.
"Hey, Momma," he murmurs with a sleepy smile.
Edward looks up, the tips of his ears tinting pink. There are a million words on the tip of my tongue. A million things I want to say, a million more I want to ask.
I don't say anything, though. I silently sink into the chair beside them, my small smile encouraging him to continue. After a few moments, he does, and I join my boys being lulled into relaxation by the low cadence of Edward's voice as he tells stories of camping with his grandparents as a boy. My sons eat up his words even as their yawns cut their questions in half and their drooping eyes slide shut. The crackle of the embers in the fire pit a few feet away, combined with Edward's voice, the far-off whoosh of the sea, and a breeze rustling the leaves of the palm trees creates an ambience so calming I almost drift off.
"Honey," Mom's gentle whisper pulls me from my semi-conscious state. She smiles, brushing a lock of my hair away from my face. "Dad and I are heading out. Do you want some help putting the boys to bed?"
Eyeing Edward, who shakes his head just enough not to disturb Jaxson, Finley, and Arlo, I tell Mom we've got it covered.
"All right. We'll see you tomorrow, okay? I'll pick the boys up and drop you off to work."
"Sure. Thanks, Mom. I'll walk you out."
Once Mom and Dad have set off on foot, their car parked on the drive where mine will go—when I eventually get around to heading into Jacksonville to pick one out—I distract myself from the beyond heartwarming scene in my backyard by clearing up a little. Thanks to Mom's forethought, we used mostly recyclable plates and cutlery, so I won't be left with a year's worth of dishes.
Also, we currently only have six sets of each utensil in the house.
Once I've gathered all the dirty dishes that need washing and dumped them in the dishwasher, which I'll figure out tomorrow, I grab a trash bag from the cupboard and scoop everything that can't be recycled into it. Heading outside, I grin at Edward buried under sleeping boys.
"Give me a sec, and I'll come rescue you."
Even from across the yard, I see the way Edward's arms tighten slightly around the boys. "I'm good. No rescuing necessary."
Gazing at him for a beat, I decide that he wouldn't lie. If he says he's good, that's enough for me.
My mind wanders as I mosey around the yard, picking up as I go, and of course my eyes routinely flick over to Edward and the boys. Just as he said, he seems perfectly at ease with them all squished on his lap, his big arms wrapped protectively around them. Perhaps for the first time, I really take the time to think about how it must feel for him, being around them.
Arlo is almost the same age as—
"Bella?"
Spinning around, I find myself snorting to stifle my laughter. Finley has shifted over a little, and even the little amount of light out here is enough for me to see the big string of drool he's just wiped over Edward's shirt.
"Oh, jeez. One second, let me get a towel and then I'll grab him."
When I return with a towel, I hand it to Edward and scoop Finley carefully into my arms. He's the lighter out of him and Jaxson, but he still weighs more than I can comfortably carry, even at just six years old. Edward shoots me an amused smirk as I heave him up higher so his head rests over my shoulder and most of his weight is being supported by my back.
"You're not gonna be able to do that much longer, huh?"
"No," I sigh, regret clouding my tone. "I'd carry them all forever if they'd let me and my back could take it. As it is, it's a workout carrying Jax and Finn. Arlo isn't far behind."
Carefully, Edward manages to lift himself out of the chair without waking either of the boys in his arms. Finley and Arlo snooze on contentedly. I can't help but shake my head and share my admiration. Lifting one of the boys when they're a dead-weight and fast asleep is tricky. Lifting two, and out of a low chair, too…
"Very admirable, Edward."
He chuckles, his laughter cutting off suddenly as he grimaces and waits for the boys to stir. Of course, they don't. They're all deep sleepers. It's been incredibly helpful on the nights I've wanted to watch movies in bed but they've snuck in to sleep with me. I can watch whatever I like—action movie, thriller, musical...they'll sleep through them all.
"Come on, let's get these party animals to bed."
Carrying them down the hall to their new rooms, I can't help but think how surreal this feels. It's both comforting and unnerving having someone else help me with this. It's wrong, and yet right, having a set of heavy footsteps follow me through the house into the bigger boys' room, odd, but somehow not, to watch Edward gently lay Jaxson on his bed before tugging his shoes off with one hand and flipping on the nightlight plugged in by his nightstand.
He's done this before. Not with my boys, but with a partied-out little one too sleepy to take off her own shoes.
By the time I've gotten Finley situated and kissed both his and Jaxson's messy hairdos, Edward is across the hall tucking Arlo in. Leaning in the doorway, I'm treated to a sight that has my stomach flip-flopping and my heart slamming against my chest. Luckily, my breathy sigh is too quiet to interrupt the moment.
"Edward?" Arlo whispers, hanging onto the pocket of Edward's shorts.
"Yeah, buddy, I'm here. What's up?" My pulse races as he pauses before carefully sitting on the edge of Arlo's bed.
"Are you havin' a sleepover with me? S'late, right?"
"It is late," Edward chuckles. "But I'm not having a sleepover. I'm just helping your mom get you yahoos to bed and then I'm heading home."
Pity.
The thought crosses my mind before I can stop it. Now it's there, I can't erase it.
That new bed needs christening.
Shaking my head, I tune into the conversation in time to hear Arlo ask for a bedtime story. Even from my spot a few feet away, there's no missing the way Edward's shoulders tighten, his back ramrod straight. I don't know why a bedtime story is a trigger for him, but I can make an educated guess. Before he has to say 'no,' I make my presence known.
"It's late, kiddo." Edward twists just his head to face me. His desolate sigh and the way he hangs his head is gutting. "No story tonight, okay? You need to get lots of sleep."
Thankfully, Arlo picks a good night not to fight with me. He simply huffs, which loses all its petulance when it morphs into a loud yawn. "Night, Edward. Night, Momma. Love you."
"I love you, kiddo."
Edward doesn't move while I cross the room to plant a kiss on Arlo's forehead. As I straighten up, our eyes meet over my son and I hope he can see the willingness to support him and be the shoulder he can lean on in mine. God knows I can see the loss and confusion in his.
~ oOo ~
The log crackles and pops as I carefully drop it into the fire pit, watching to make sure it catches before breathing out a content sigh and settling myself in my seat. Edward flashes me a small grin as our eyes find each other.
"Does it sound weird if I say that I'm relieved today is over?"
"Not at all," he says with a snort, taking a big mouthful of his beer before adding, "I'm surprised you're still standing, to be honest. I was ready to kick your parents out and crawl into bed when my place was finally move-in ready and the big day arrived."
Nostalgia tugs my lips up into a smile. "I think I remember...it was really hot, like today."
"It was," Edward confirms. Like today, the day my family helped Edward move into his house was the hottest day so far that year.
"Didn't Ben fall in the pool?"
Edward chuckles, suddenly quieting and glancing toward the house.
"It's all right, they won't hear you." Arlo's bedroom is closest, but he's the heaviest sleeper of all.
Mollified, he takes another mouthful of his drink before speaking. "He did. Charlie was fuming because he'd had too much to drink to drive him home, so he had to walk Ben back to your place so he could get changed. Nobody thought to bring swimwear, apparently."
Smiling, I shake my head and tip my head back, gazing up at the stars.
I was twelve years old when Edward's house was finally complete. My memories of the day he moved in are hazy from lack of use, but clear enough that I can still picture my dad's exasperation when Benjamin hauled himself out of the pool after tripping in while showing off with Edward's younger brother, Jasper.
"You did an amazing job with that house," I finally breathe when a gentle breeze blows the cobwebs from my mind.
"Thanks." Edward's inability to accept praise of any sort makes me grin. He reaches up with his free hand to rub the back of his neck, his ears tinted pink.
Hesitating for a moment, I tell myself to take the chance and murmur, "It's still the same yellow, isn't it?"
If it weren't for the low glow of the fire in the pit, I would have missed the tension that ripples up his spine and the tick of his jaw, but I don't. I wait with baited breath, knowing it was risky, wondering if it'll push him—
"Yes," he whispers roughly, his shoulders visibly tense. "I don't...I can't change it."
When Edward completed the house, the exterior was painted a crisp, clean white. A handful of years later, Edward, Benjamin, and Dad spent an entire weekend painting it a cheerful, sunny yellow.
All because it would put a smile on the face of a little girl with her daddy's grass-green eyes.
Revelations are coming...
Next chapter: Sunday
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