I could waffle up here all day, oooor I could just wish you all a happy, healthy New Year and let you get on with it ;)
Chapter Twenty-Two
Bella
"There you go, kiddo."
"Thanks, Momma," Arlo yells as he shoves the Gators cap Benjamin gave him onto his head, tugging his short ponytail through the hole in the back as he runs to join his brothers in the digger sand pit. Confident they're basted in sunscreen like Thanksgiving turkeys, I turn my attention to Edward.
My heart thumps harder when my searching gaze locates him over by the water, Max at his feet, Orlando his backdrop, and the willow branches his frame. If it weren't for the fact that I can see the tide of grief attempting to swallow him whole, I'd be tempted to take a picture. He's so beautiful, even fighting the demons that haunt him.
Glancing at my boys to make sure they're okay, I rise from my crouched position and sit on the bench behind me. I can't even begin to comprehend how it must feel to lose a child, and Edward was forced to watch the very accident that stole her from him. I was heavily pregnant when it happened, just days from delivering Jaxson and Finley though I didn't know it at the time, and I still remember Mom's voice when she called to tell me there had been an accident.
"Phew," I pant, sucking in a deep breath before snatching my phone from the table before it rings off. Being thirty-five weeks pregnant with twins is no damn joke. Only a shade taller than five feet, I'm more belly than Bella at this point. "Mom, hi. Sorry, it takes me a while to get anywhere and my cell was on the kitchen table."
Instead of her usual cheery greeting, I'm met with silence. Frowning, I check the screen to make sure the call hasn't dropped before raising it to my ear again. "Mom?"
"Honey…" She trails off, and I hear mumbling in the background. Dad, maybe. Fear starts to spread through my veins.
"Is everything okay? Are you all right? And Dad?" The names of my siblings stumble out of my mouth, followed by my grandparents. She assures me they're all fine before pausing and clearing her throat, obviously emotional. "Edward…"
It's obvious from her hesitation that I've hit the nail on the head.
"Mom, is Edward okay?"
"Bella, honey, remember to breathe and try not to panic, all right? Is Jude with you?"
"No, she's—" I hear keys in the door, then Jude appears in the doorway with pinched brows and a worried grimace. "She's right here," I admit shakily, my worry increasing. Mom must have called her. "Mom, Edward…"
"He's hurt, but he's going to be okay" she finally sighs. "There's been an accident."
I can still remember the icy fear that slithered through my veins when those words left her mouth. She stayed on the phone with me for almost an hour while Jude held me as I sobbed for Edward, Kate, and beautiful little Willow.
"The car was going almost sixty miles per hour when it hit the Jeep with Willow inside."
And Edward saw that. He was a front-row spectator. Then he spent two weeks by her bedside waiting for her to wake up. I know that part because I spoke to Mom often and she was so worried about him that she took to sitting with him at the hospital so he wouldn't be alone, Kate 'too distraught to see her daughter that way.' I still don't understand how she stayed away. If any of my boys were in hospital, the doctors would have to drag me away from them kicking and screaming.
A shudder ripples down my spine despite the steadily increasing heat. Taking a few mouthfuls of the water bottle in the bag at my feet, I blow out a breath and force myself to give Edward a few minutes to gather his thoughts. I said I'd wait for him to join us, but that doesn't feel right. He needs support, not distance. I often wonder if it's people's willingness to give him so much space to withdraw into himself that has allowed such a fundamental alteration of his personality. The once-vibrant life of the party is now a shell of the man I remember, though I have seen glimpses of the old Edward. Little moments where his crooked smile seems genuine, his laughter uninhibited and natural.
When he hasn't moved an inch after twenty minutes, I tell the boys to stay on the jungle gym nearest the fence, where I'll be able to see them, and jog out of the gated area, slowing when I near Edward. Max looks up at me, his tail thumping the grass a few times before his attention is diverted by a falling leaf. Edward's shoulders lift and fall in a deep, shaky breath just as my palm lands at the small of his back.
"Edward…" I whisper, suddenly unsure.
Without facing me, he lifts an arm to tug me into his side. His grip is almost bruising, but I hold him to me just as tight, hoping he can take comfort from me as he visibly struggles with his emotions. After checking on the boys again, I follow his glazed eyes out over the water in front of us, listening to the quiet lap of the water meeting the shore and the soft brush of the willow tree leaves clicking together overhead. Even with the children screaming and squealing at our backs, it's peaceful—until I hear Edward mumble a curse, his free hand angrily dashing tears from his cheeks before they can sneak down into his beard.
"I was sitting over there when Kate called to say she was pregnant."
Hesitating, I follow his nod to a wide willow tree trunk a few feet away. I can imagine a younger Edward sitting there, his handsome face made even more so by a crooked grin. God, he adored Willow. She was his world the same way the boys are mine. They were made to be together, made to be each other's sunshine.
"I'd had a horrendous day, that day. We were already behind with the construction on the house when a pipe burst, so I was having to sleep in a tent in the backyard. Your mom and dad made me come stay with you guys when they found out." Edward shakes his head, his gaze far-off, his thoughts clearly back in the past. I think I remember it, actually. Mom made up the den for him. "We'd been trying for nearly six years by then, had two rounds of IVF. Willow was our last shot."
IVF… "I didn't know that," I admit, realizing that it would have been odd if I had known. I was only fifteen when Willow was born, too young to have been privy to those kind of details about Edward and Kate's life.
"We didn't talk about it much." Quietly, he admits, "I didn't talk about it much. I was so ashamed that I couldn't do something I felt should be natural, easy. When we first got married, I wasn't a hundred percent onboard with rushing into having a baby. By the time Willow came along, I was so ready to be a dad."
This time, as tears drip over his cheeks, he ignores them. My heart aches for him, my arm squeezing tighter around his middle.
"I was here when I decided on her name, too."
My lips curl up slightly in a tiny smile. "That's beautiful. And 'Belle' after me…" I tease.
Chuckling tearfully, he looks down at me for the first time, the grassy green of his eyes brighter than usual. 'Beautiful' is a word I never would have associated with men if it weren't for him. "You wish, short stuff. Belle was Kate's grandma."
"Mmhmm, you keep telling yourself that, handsome."
Shaking his head with a small smile, he tilts his head to rest his cheek against the crown of my head.
As soon as the next words leave my mouth, I know I've hit a nerve, I just don't understand why he flinches and grits his teeth. "She was your little clone."
"So I've been told," he murmurs, his low tone gravelly.
"Momma!" The screech of the playground gate and Jaxson's nervous whine has us both spinning around. "Finley fell over, Momma," he pants, getting close enough for me to hear him before turning on his heel and sprinting back to his brothers, who I can see sitting on the floor through the bars of the playground.
With a quick glance at Edward's carefully neutral face, I take off after Jaxson, relaxing more when I get closer and see that Finley just has scraped knees and hurt pride.
"What happened, kiddo?" I soothe, kissing his sweaty head before scooping him up, sitting on the bench behind me, and setting him on my lap.
"I t-tripped," he stutters shakily, palming his red cheeks as he tries to stop himself from crying. My sweet, sensitive middle child. Pointing at his sneakers, he blows out a big breath. "My laces got loose and I tripped over them comin' to get you."
Guilt rushes through me. If I'd stayed right where I was, I would have been able to grab Finley and tie his laces before he fell over and hurt himself.
Edward swooping in saves me from falling too deep into my pit of mom-guilt. I glance behind him, spotting Max sitting patiently on the other side of the fence, his big eyes trained intently on us. He can't come in the playground, but I'm glad he can still be close enough that he isn't nervous. "Do you know how to tie your own laces, buddy?"
Finley shakes his head, watching Edward as he drops to a crouch in front of us. "Would you like me to show you how I learned? My dad taught me the bunny trick when I was about your age, and I think you'll get it, easy peasy."
Glancing at me, Finley waits for me to smile and nod encouragingly before facing Edward and saying "Yes, please" like the good, polite boy he is.
"All right. So you take both laces like this, see?"
Patient and slow, Edward walks Finley through the steps to get his laces looped together and tied in a neat bow. He does it the first time, then undoes them and coaches Finley as he gives it a ago. My smile borders on painful when Jaxson and Arlo drop down to their butts to try it, too; Edward lets Finley keep practicing while he shows his brothers how to do it with the same level of calm understanding and patience.
"Like this, Ed?" Arlo asks, shooting me an odd look when I snort and grin at Edward's wince. "What?"
"Edward doesn't like being called 'Ed,' kiddo," I laugh.
"Oh…"
"It's okay, buddy. You can call me whatever you like."
"You'll regret saying that."
Edward raises his eyebrows, glancing away to help Arlo with his tangled laces before returning his attention to me. "Why?"
"Because he'll probably come up with some ridiculous nickname now."
Arlo flashes us both a mischievous grin and nods. "Yep! I'm gonna think of somethin' good and funny."
"Good and funny sounds perfect to me," Edward tells him with a wink, tapping the peak of his hat before looking up at me. I'm pleased to see that some of the lightness from this morning, when he first picked us up, has returned. "Shall we go find a spot to eat our picnic?"
Stifling the urge to reach out and cup his face, I tighten my arms around Finley instead. "That sounds like a great idea."
~ oOo ~
"Come on, little face. Let's get you to bed."
"I'm not sleepy—yawn—though." Arlo offers me a sheepish smile when his words are completely contradicted by his loud yawn as I carry him toward his bedroom. "Okay, maybe I'm a tiny bit sleepy."
"Let's go, Lo."
As I tuck Arlo into bed with his stuffed tiger, Timothy the Second, I smile at Arlo's soft humming. "What tune is that?"
"I don't know," he admits with a slight shrug, wiggling around to get comfortable under his blanket. "Edward was hummin' it before." His eyelids are already drooping as I perch on the edge of the bed, running my fingers through his wild mane and brushing the soft locks away from his face. I know I'm biased, but he really is a beautiful child with his dark, dark eyes and almost honey blond hair. One day, this kid is going to be a serious heartbreaker and I'll have to beat girls, or boys, away from him with a stick. I've heard parents of girls threatening to wield shotguns when boys come knocking, but as a mom of three boys, I'll be fuming if any of my sons come home one day and tell me they had a gun anywhere near them. I'll kill any person who dares to pull a gun on my sons.
Blinking his obscenely long lashes, Arlo glances over my shoulder at the door and whispers hopefully, "Can Edward come say night, too?"
"I'm here, buddy."
Warmth spreads through my chest as I turn to peer over my shoulder, Edward arriving to lean hesitantly in the doorway. Releasing a girly sigh, I can't help but bask in my happiness. We've had such a lovely day.
We ate our picnic under the wide, swaying willow boughs with the boys chatting happily and Max chewing on a new bone. Edward's smile barely wavered, his earlier thoughts not forgotten, because he'll never forget Willow, but sidelined at least for the afternoon as he tossed the boys in the air after lunch and showed them how to fly the kite Dad gave them. With full bellies, we sprawled out on our plaid blanket and cloudgazed until the boys grew restless, then Edward somehow carried a sleepy, slightly over-walked Max back to the car where he snored for the entire drive back to Jackson Bay.
After walking us inside, Edward headed out to Burger Co. for a few hours, returning shortly before six with two big paper bags of all the boys' favorites from the restaurant. If they hadn't already worshipped the ground he walks on, they would have after he showed up with one of almost everything on the menu.
My smile almost hurt when he rubbed his neck, bashfully admitting that he'd memorized Jaxson's, Finley's, and Arlo's usual orders so he could bring them back with him.
Then we had a glorious evening relaxing in the backyard. The boys begged to have the sprinkler switched on, so I got it set up on the grass while they changed into their board shorts. Edward and I sipped cold soda on the porch as Jaxson, Finley, Arlo, and Max cooled themselves off in the water as the sunlight slowly sunk beyond the horizon, painting the sky all the colors of the rainbow. Interspersed with the boys' squeals and Max's excited yips was the sea meeting the shore on the other side of the dunes and gulls squawking overhead as they headed to their sleeping spots for the night.
He wears a small smile as he steps into Arlo's bedroom now, his eyes asking my permission as he hikes up the fabric of his shorts over his thighs, crouching beside me so he's eye-level with Arlo. Nodding, I swallow the lump of emotion lodged in my throat and take a metaphorical step back.
"Will you tell me a story?"
"Sure, buddy." Instead of reaching for the books stacked on Arlo's nightstand, Edward purses his lips for a moment before nodding, seemingly to himself, and cocking his head slightly. "Can I make one up?"
"They're the best kind." Arlo's words are mumbled and closely followed by a yawn that leaves his eyes watering.
"I agree." Edward keeps his eyes on Arlo as he starts telling a story about a young knight, winking at my gleeful son when he tells him the knight's name is 'Arlo.' I can hear Max scratching the door down the hall, so I excuse myself and leave them to it, following Max out into the backyard. As he potters around the grass, sniffing and glancing at me periodically to make sure I haven't gone anywhere, I let myself feel the unexpected rush of grief that flowed through my veins as I watched Edward give my son the bedtime story he's never gotten from his own father, as I mourned the fact that Edward should be able to give that bedtime story to his daughter every single night, but he can't.
It's not fair that Arlo is missing out on a dad, that Edward is missing out on his little girl.
My heart hurts for them both, a choppy breath escaping my lungs just as Edward's boots hitting the porch alert me to his presence.
"Arlo's asleep," he whispers, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder. The rasp of his beard against my skin feels amazing, but my stomach still churns, my chest still aches, and I bet it's still nothing on how Edward feels each and every day he has to go on without Willow. Twisting in his embrace, I cling to Edward's chest, hot tears leaking from my squeezed-shut eyes.
"Hey," he breathes, gently tugging my face away from him with a thumb under my chin. "What's wrong?"
"I…" Looking into his eyes, his beautiful, grassy green gaze, I'm mortified to feel more tears tumbling over my cheeks. His worry is clear as day, his thumb soft as he brushes the moisture away. My pulse races under my skin as his brows furrow. The emotions rushing through me, this protectiveness, isn't unfamiliar. It's similar to the love I feel for my sons, the way I always want to look after them and keep them from hurting.
It terrifies me.
Two weeks ago, I admitted to myself that I could easily see myself falling for Edward. Standing here now, with the fading sunlight highlighting the copper in his hair and the gold flecks in his eyes, I know for sure that resisting my feelings for him would be pointless. This man, with all his complexities and baggage, has breached my barriers in spectacular fashion and made a mockery of my determination to swear off men upon my return to Florida. It hasn't even been two months, but the way I feel about him far surpasses friendship or a mere crush. Seeing him with the boys today, after listening to him talk about Willow and how much he enjoyed taking her to Lake Eola, has shown me that the Edward I used to know is still in there somewhere. The fun-loving, crooked-grinning Edward I harbored a crush on years ago is desperate to escape the hard-faced, closed-off Edward of today.
I see him in the moments when he thinks he isn't being watched. My mind is full of seemingly innocuous interactions between Edward and my sons; of expressions on his face when he believes nobody's paying attention; of the fantasies that he inspires when he looks at me like I'm someone he wants and when he holds me and coaxes pleasure from my body that I didn't know I was capable of feeling.
"What's going on in that beautiful head of yours, short stuff?" he finally whispers, lightly bumping his forehead against mine.
I'm scared to even acknowledge my own thoughts, let alone voice them into existence. I'm scared that he'll think I'm ridiculous and unloading all my crazy will be the thing that pushes him away.
But above all, I'm absolutely terrified that I'm falling in love with him and there's a very real chance that he doesn't, and won't ever, feel the same.
~ oOo ~
The following morning, I'm not surprised when I wake up in an empty bed. Edward surprised me by staying over last night even after I used a timely knock on the front door to avoid having to tell him what was on my mind. Jane Samuels' interruption saved me; she wanted to invite me and the boys over for dinner next week. Thankfully, Edward is easily distracted—a few teasing kisses and a little nudge toward the hall led us to the bedroom, where we eventually fell asleep curled around each other. Waking up alone doesn't come as a shock, though. He always sneaks out before the boys can bust us.
Stretching out with a yawn that makes my eyes water and sends jolts of pleasure down my spine, I glance over at the clock and frown. It's way past the time Jaxson would usually have me out of bed, not to mention Max. The fact that it's quiet makes me nervous, so I don't pause to use the bathroom before slipping a long t-shirt over my head and hurrying out of my bedroom. Finding Jaxson and Finley's room empty, I figure the boys are congregating in Arlo's bedroom; they're all loving the bay window as a spot for playing with their extensive Lego collection. Only, when I push open the door, already smiling, my stomach lurches.
They aren't there, either.
"Boys?" I call, more than a hint of panic coloring my tone. When no answer comes, and no bear-like puppy comes running, I speed through the house, checking every room before finding myself throwing open the door to the backyard. It's only as it swings open and I'm seconds from a full-blown panic attack that I feel something stuck to my bare foot. The pink Post-It comes from the stack on the kitchen counter. The boys like to draw and write on them while I cook, sometimes. The writing on this one doesn't belong to any of my sons, though.
Short stuff, don't freak out. The boys were getting restless and hot so I offered up the pool. Come find us when you're up, we have breakfast. Edward and the boys.
Palming my racing heart, I tip my head back to the ceiling and close my eyes, sucking in a deep breath to try and calm myself down. Reminding myself that Edward thought he was doing a nice thing by taking the boys, I squash my anger and the fear blazing through my veins and quickly get myself ready, skipping a shower in favor of getting down the street sooner. Bypassing the front door, I head straight to the gate and let myself in.
Any residual annoyance I felt seconds ago pours from my body, my shoulders sagging and my heart taking off at a sprint.
Shirtless and dressed only in a pair of flamingo-print board shorts and his aviators, Edward has Jaxson under one arm, Finley under the other; Arlo is already in the water, lounging on an inflatable crocodile and giggling like a crazy thing. None of them have noticed me yet, so I get to watch with a ridiculous smile on my face as Edward counts down from three before tossing both boys into the pool to the sounds of their little brother's laughter. The uninhibited, sun-soaked smile on Edward's face as he guffaws at the put-out looks on my sons' faces when they break the surface fills me with hope and happiness.
He's magnificent in his joy, resplendent in his openness. There's no hiding when he's alone with the boys like this. No defenses. I can't bring myself to feel jealous of my sons because I get to see this and know that, with time, he can be this man all the time. I believe in him and I believe in the power of love to get him through the trials we'll face.
When Arlo spots me, tipping himself off his float in his excitement, Edward's head pops up and his smile-crinkled eyes find my beaming grin. I see the lightness in his gaze, the happiness in his lopsided smile, and I know.
I'm not the only one falling.
Okay, so normal posting service can resume. Yay! I'll return to the usual Wednesday/Sunday schedule now the holiday madness has died down. We're still looking at around 32/33 chapters, so there's a little way to go still.
If you want to see pictures of the Jackson Bay crew and snoop on my inspiration for the bay itself, I have a board called 'Under The Willows' and my account is under the same name as I am here.
As always, huge thanks to my wonderful team of ladies who call me on my bull and point out when I'm being too liberal with my 'it's fiction' excuse. annaharding, LizziePaige, ThatSoAlex, Anakinsmom, and LadyLoonie, I love you all dearly. And I love each and every one of you who reads, reviews, and recommends this little tale of mine. Come friend me on Facebook - Ciara Shayee Hill - to chit chat with me and see the visuals I create to go with each chapter.