"Bella, where's my laptop?" Mark called from the living room.
"I don't know!" I called back from the bathroom. "Have you seen my toothbrush?"
"Your toothbrush is already in your bag!" Mark called.
"Oh," I said, and then thought about his laptop. "Is your laptop in your computer bag already?"
"No! It's no-" he started, and then stopped. "Oh, wait, it is," he called back. "Thanks!"
December seventeenth. The day we were supposed to be back in Forks. The day we were supposed to leave at six in the morning, and at 10 we were still running around trying to figure out where all of our stuff was. The day that Mark was going to get to drive eight and a half hours while I laughed at him. And we weren't ready yet.
"Where's my MP3 player?!" Mark exclaimed.
"In the bedroom, on the nightstand," I answered.
"Did you pack your MP3 player?" He asked.
"What do you think I'm going to do for the eight and a half hours that you're driving?"
"Talk to me?" he asked as he poked his head in the door.
I laughed at him and gave him a quick kiss. "Not a chance. I'm sleeping and listening to music."
He pouted at me. "But I want to talk to my lovely wife while we're driving to HER town to see HER dad and HER old boyfriend's family."
"Have I ever told you you're cute when you pout?" I asked teasingly. I tried to slip out the door past him, but it was a narrow door, and he didn't move, so I ended up getting wedged there.
"I think you have…" he whispered and gave me a kiss while I was stuck inches in front of him. We stayed like that for a few seconds, both enjoying the calm in the middle of the chaos known as packing. I was the first to break away.
"Let me out," I laughed, and lightly smacked him upside the head. "I still have to pack my clothes."
"You know Alice will just buy you more when we're shopping. Don't bother packing more than a few outfits," he teased as he stepped out and let me go.
"I always hope that she'll stop spending so much money on me," I sighed, and walked into the bedroom.
"I think as long as Carlisle doesn't cut the funding to her credit card she'll continue to buy you things," Mark pointed out. "I don't mind, it just means I don't have to buy my needy wife quite as much."
"Hey!" I protested, sticking my head back out. "I'm not that needy!"
"Tell my credit card that," Mark retorted.
"Oh, you…" I fumed, unable to find an appropriate comeback, "Just… just go eat something so it doesn't spoil in the fridge while we're gone."
He grinned and obediently went into the kitchen, but not before sticking his tongue out at me.
I stuck mine right back out at him before going back in the bedroom to finish packing. I already knew this was going to be a long Christmas break, and it hadn't even started.