Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.

As always, my beta The Real Teacher worked her magic on this chapter and made it look pretty. I did makes some changes to this chapter after she was done, though, so any mistakes you might encounter are totally my fault.

Grace

~ Part seven ~

Apparently asking a woman to marry you in the middle of the night while she was growing your baby inside of her wasn't a good thing. Nor was showing up late for doctor's appointments, even if there was nothing I could do about it.

I'd both of those lessons the hard way.

In fact, they were only the first of the many hard lessons I learned over the next couple of months.

Take for instance peanut butter. It used to be the most normal thing in the world to have a PBJ sandwich in the morning, with my cup of coffee. As Bella's pregnancy advanced, however, the smell of it was enough to turn my sweet girl into a raving, green monster, threatening to puke all over me if I so much as thought of bringing the stuff into the house.

It was why I'd resorted to keeping a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter in the bottom drawer of my desk at work.

It was also why, on a Thursday night somewhere in the middle of the seventh month of Bella's pregnancy, I found myself knocking on my parents' door.

Mom smirked as she opened the door, already dressed for the night. "What did you do this time?"

I scowled. "What, I can't be visiting my mom and dad now, without you thinking I messed shit up?"

She crossed her arms in from of her chest, arching her brows as she stared me down. "Well?"

I sighed, admitting defeat. "I may have told her that work sometimes has to take prime over her."

"Again?" Mom's eyes grew huge and for a moment it looked like she was going to slap me right across the cheek. "Why on earth would you say that to that poor girl who is carrying your child right now? I thought you learned your lesson that first time!"

"I dunno," I shrugged, feeling pretty damn stupid. "It just….slipped out?"

She shook her head, motioning sharply for me to follow her into the apartment as she muttered on. "Sometimes I really don't understand the male species. Is it just that they completely lack any sort of sensitivity or are they just plain stupid?"

"She made me say it, though, when she tried to get me to give up my job!" I argued, suddenly feeling the need to defend myself and all of manhood.

"What?" mom cried unbelievingly. "She'd never do that!"

"Are you calling me a liar now?" I walked over to the drinks cabinet and poured myself a scotch before fixing my mom a glass of vermouth. "I swear, she actually spoke the words!"

"Then you must have done something to provoke her," mom countered.

On any other day I would have been ecstatic with the way she was championing Bella's cause. I mean, I'd heard horror stories of mother's in law who made the lives of their son's partner a living hell.

Right then, though, I kinda wished she'd take my side for once.

No matter how little I may have deserved it.

"I dunno," I shrugged, sagging down onto the sofa as I looked out across the bay. I took a sip from my drink, the burn as it scorched down my throat a welcome distraction from the weariness I felt. "You know how busy I've been, trying to wrap up the Fenton-case, right?"

I waited for her to nod before I went on. "So tonight I come back after another twelve hour workday to find Bella on the couch, crying her eyes out."

"Poor girl," mom muttered.

I sighed. I'd felt the same when I'd looked at my poor angel, huddled underneath a blanket, her eyes red from crying and her hands wrapped around her stomach as if to protect our baby from whatever harm may come for it. It had been heartbreaking. "I asked her what was going and she suddenly turned on me, getting all pissed off and emotional as she wanted to know if I actually planned on being around once the baby was born or if I was just going to move into my office full time."

It had been a recurring theme throughout the past couple of months.

"And that's when you told her work was more important than she was?" mom rounded on me.

"Of course not!" I growled. "Jeez mom? A little credit? I told her I was only working so much now so that I could be around more once the baby is here."

"Hmm." Mom's eyes remained narrowed in distrust as she looked at me. "How did she react to that?"

I chuckled darkly. "She called me a liar and threw a pillow at my head when I tried to console her. It's a good thing her aim leaves something to be desired or she might have broken my nose. Those pillows are pretty damn heavy."

Mom giggled. "She called you a liar?"

"She told me I was never going to ease up on work, not with the way my job went. There were always going to be cases demanding overtime and I was always going to leave her and the baby stranded when they needed me." I rubbed my tired face, recalling the horrible fight that had broken out when I'd wanted nothing more than to comfort Bella. "When I promised her that I was going to find a way to make things work she went completely batshit on me and demanded that I found a job that had me home more often."

"Ah," mom smirked. "And I guess that's when you told her."

I nodded, moving my hands through my hair and pulling at the roots. "I was only trying to explain to her that, yes, sometimes cases are so important that I had to put in some overtime but that I was working out a deal with the partners to keep my caseload relatively light. Just as we agreed the last time we had this conversation."

I sighed hanging my head. "I guess she took it the wrong way."

"And she threw you out." I nodded, though my mother's statement wasn't articulated to be a question.

"I don't know how I'm going to make this right again, mom," I groaned. "We keep having this conversation over and over again and each time I think she finally gets what I'm trying to say but then the next time I have to work a little late she starts all over again. She just doesn't want to see reason!"

"Edward." Mom sighed, squeezing her frame next to mine on the sofa. "You have to understand that right now, Bella's whole world is being turned upside down. Not only is her body changing to accommodate your child, making her hormones run rampant, she also knows it's just the beginning."

She smiled, brushing a few arrant locks of hair out of my face. "The moment she gives birth she's going to be a mother; a mother who is supposed to know how to raise the perfect, unspoiled little human being she's brought into this world and decided what's right for him or her while also trying to juggle being a journalist, a girlfriend as well as herself. She's probably scared stiff right now and looking for an assurance only you can give her."

"But I'm trying mom?" I groaned. "I'm really trying!"

"Then try harder," mom insisted. "Make her see that she's safe with her and that you're in this; as committed to the baby and to her as a person can be."

I sighed. "And how am I supposed to do that without quitting my job?"

Mom chuckled. "I'm sure you'll figure something out. You're smart enough to put two and two together."

"You mean marriage?" I frowned. "I don't think she wants that."

"Why not?" mom asked.

I shrugged. "I asked her when we found out she was pregnant and she said that she didn't want to get married for at least another year or so."

"Women change their minds, Edward," mom laughed, ruffling my hair. "If her behavior is anything to go by, I'd be very surprised if she says no when you ask her."

"Okay," I nodded. "I'll think about it."

"You do that." Mom rose from her chair and left the room, leaving me baffled as to her reasons why until she returned carrying a small, velvet box. "When you do," she spoke softly, molding my fingers around the box, "I would be honored if you presented Bella with this ring. It was the same one my father gave to my mother when he proposed to her and I believe it has been in the family for well over a century."

I opened the box, an awed smile breaking onto my face as I took in the plain silver band with the larger, perfect square cut diamond. It was simple, understated, beautiful and – what was even better – it was so….Bella.

"You don't have to use it," mom backpedaled, obviously mistaking my quiet attitude for reluctance. "If you had something else in mind, I'll understand."

"No!" I quickly put her mind at ease. "It's beautiful. I think Bella will love it."

She didn't say anything but the way she squeezed me when we hugged let me know how happy she was to be able to pass this on to me.

It felt good, knowing I could make my mom happy. God knew that with my dad still wandering through the house like a ghost, she had very little to be happy about.

I knew she was worried sick about him and, to be honest, so was I. After a string of failed attempts to get through to him, I was getting increasingly anxious about him; his whole demeanor communicating that he'd given up on life.

Lately there was only one person who had been able to get through to him: Bella.

It was unlikely how the cause and the victim had gotten so close but somehow, in the midst of all the crazy stuff going on in our lives, Bella had found the time to schedule regular chats with my dad. She never told me what they would talk about and, according to mom, neither would dad, but we were already starting to see a change in him.

Granted, the change was small, but it was progress none the less.

I knew mom was holding high hoped that once the baby was born, he or she (we'd opted not to know the sex of our baby, choosing instead to be surprised) the final shift that would bring about my dad's return to sanity but, as much as I wanted to hope it would happen, it felt wrong to put such pressure on our unborn child.

No, our kid would be free of all of that; I would make sure of it. He or she would grow up in a warm, relaxed environment knowing it was loved and cherished by people who loved and cherished themselves and each other.

I mulled over my mom's words as I drove back home, trying to piece everything together and come up with a solution that would make all three of us – Baby, Bella and I – happy.

In the end, the only conclusion that was left to me was that my mother had been right,

Marrying Bella….as much as we'd both agreed not to, felt right.

It felt good.

The only thing I remained completely stumped about, and would be for the next couple of weeks, was the how.

How would I propose to Bella in a way that would get her to say yes and not break out into a hysteric fit of giggles or get angry for my assaholic, unromantic ways.

Waking her up in the middle of the night was out of the question, that much I'd learned a couple of months ago.

So was anything that involved rose petals, serenades or other sappy romantic crap was out of the questions as well, since Bella had never been the one to enjoy the whole flowery vanilla bullshit.

Besides, it wasn't us.

So, it looks like Edward is going to propose…